After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

By the time Pei Ji returned from the hospital, night had already fallen.

He had barely stepped into the residential complex when he spotted a familiar figure in the distance—Zhou Yingjie, the friend who had visited Chu Tinghan a few days earlier.

The streetlights in the complex were broken, leaving the road in a hazy, pitch-black darkness. Pei Ji couldn’t make out Zhou Yingjie’s features clearly, so he hesitated to confirm his identity and took a few more steps closer.

He saw Zhou Yingjie holding a circular object, resembling a frisbee. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the air. A moment later, the frisbee soared back into his hand.

Pei Ji narrowed his eyes and crept closer, his footsteps light as a feather.

Zhou Yingjie remained completely unaware of the figure approaching from behind, still stroking his Alaskan’s head affectionately and praising it.

“Woof!” The Alaskan, which had been wagging its tail just moments before, suddenly stood up, its gaze fixed warily on the suspicious figure behind its owner.

Startled by the sudden bark, Zhou Yingjie paused for a moment before chiding the dog, “Quiet down! If someone reports us for disturbing the peace, we’ll be in big trouble.”

“Woof! Woof woof!” The Alaskan seemed not to understand, its eyes locked firmly on the figure behind its master, coiled and ready to pounce.

“Aiya, I just don’t get it. Why is he being so disobedient today?” Zhou Yingjie grumbled, turning to look behind him. A tall figure suddenly materialized in his field of vision, and he saw the man standing a few meters away, awkwardly scratching his nose.

Pei Ji had been trying to sneak up unnoticed. Zhou Yingjie hadn’t noticed him at all, but the big dog crouching beside him had spotted him and, mistaking him for a bad guy, barked fiercely several times.

Frozen in place, Pei Ji couldn’t decide whether to stay or leave.

After a moment’s hesitation, Pei Ji figured that since the man was Chu Tinghan’s friend, he should at least be friendly and polite.

He waved at Zhou Yingjie, a handsome smile spreading across his face. “Zhou-ge, what a coincidence to run into you again!”

“What a coincidence indeed! No need to call me ‘ge,’ you’re being too polite. Just call me Xiao Zhou or Yingjie.” Meeting Pei Ji while walking his dog had Zhou Yingjie so flustered that cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Thank goodness I only brought one dog out today, he thought, or the consequences would have been unthinkable.

After a pause, as if recalling something unpleasant, Zhou Yingjie quickly corrected himself. “Actually, just call me Xiao Zhou, please.”

Zhou Yingjie had never even heard Pei Ji call Chu Tinghan “Tinghan.” If Chu Tinghan ever found out his husband was calling him “Yingjie,” such an intimate nickname, he’d tear Zhou Yingjie to shreds.

Zhou Yingjie saw no need to take such a risk.

Pei Ji frowned in confusion. Zhou Yingjie was, after all, a Best Actor. Even if he was Chu Tinghan’s friend, calling him “Little Zhou” seemed terribly tactless, almost insulting.

Deciding to skip the formalities altogether, Pei Ji asked directly, “What are you doing here? It’s pitch-black out—can you even see?”

Zhou Yingjie thought to himself, I wish the streetlights would break every day. Then I could walk Lucky in the dark without anyone noticing. He even considered finding a plant-based dye to darken Lucky’s fur, blending him seamlessly into the night so no one would ever catch him on his midnight strolls again.

“People have needs, and so do dogs,” Zhou Yingjie offered casually.

Pei Ji fell silent, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on the Alaskan beside Zhou Yingjie.

Zhou Yingjie swallowed nervously, sensing the situation was about to take a turn for the worse.

He desperately hoped the Alaskan would bark again, giving him a convenient excuse to rush home under the pretext that large dogs can easily injure people.

At that moment, however, the Alaskan showed no wariness whatsoever. Its tongue lolled out as it tilted its head back, gazing curiously at Pei Ji with strikingly clear eyes, its tail wagging gently.

Zhou Yingjie conceded defeat. How could he have forgotten that his dog was apparently a sucker for good looks? At this point, not only wouldn’t it bark, but his idiot son was probably already fantasizing about playing frisbee with Pei Ji.

Fine, if my idiot son can’t be relied upon, I’ll have to handle this myself.

“Oh no! I’m in trouble!” Zhou Yingjie exclaimed, his face feigning panic. “The congee on the stove is about to boil over!”

Pei Ji’s lips twitched slightly, unsure what act Zhou Yingjie was putting on.

Before he could respond, Zhou Yingjie grabbed the leash and dragged the Alaskan away at a run. They vanished in seconds, their retreat swift and without a trace of hesitation.

Only the Alaskan kept glancing back as it ran, as if still eager to make friends with Pei Ji.

“Yuanbao, stop looking! Let’s go home.”

“Hurry up! We’ll give you something tasty when we get back.”

From the distance, Pei Ji could vaguely hear these words. The Alaskan, apparently a gluttonous hound, bolted even faster than Zhou Yingjie at the mention of food, dragging him along until they disappeared completely.

Pei Ji watched the shrinking figures of Zhou Yingjie and his dog until they vanished. After a moment’s thought, he concluded that Zhou Yingjie seemed to be avoiding him, especially not wanting him to see the Alaskan.

He recalled the scene from earlier.

As the Alaskan ran, its fluffy body bounced, its long fur billowing with each stride, like a running, excited… fur ball.

A running fur ball?!

A flash of insight struck Pei Ji. He suddenly realized that the mysterious white fur ball that had been haunting his thoughts for days might not be a hallucination after all, but a real creature.

Could the blurry fur ball that had once raced toward him in his memories have been… a puppy?

But there was no sign of a puppy in his current life. Where could it be?

Freeing himself from one question only trapped him in another.

From the moment he woke up after the car accident until now, there had been no sign of a puppy in his life, nor any evidence that one had ever lived near him.

The puppy that should have been by his side had vanished inexplicably.

A cloud of suspicion settled over Pei Ji’s mind.

He decided he needed to find another plausible reason to meet Zhou Yingjie again.

That evening at the dinner table, Chu Tinghan noticed Pei Ji acting unusually attentive, repeatedly putting food on his plate and pouring him water.

Chu Tinghan stared at him for a moment, suspecting he wanted something.

He set down his chopsticks and said flatly, “Just tell me what you want. You don’t need to keep putting food on my plate.”

Pei Ji followed suit, setting his chopsticks aside and adopting a serious tone. “Alright, I’ll be direct. We’ve been married for so long, and I haven’t even introduced myself to your friends yet. I was thinking of inviting them for a casual meal.”

Chu Tinghan lowered his gaze as if pondering the suggestion.

The topic seemed forced. Pei Ji probably didn’t genuinely want to dine with his friends; he likely had ulterior motives, using the meal as an excuse.

Which friend does he want to invite? Zhou Yingjie?

The moment that name surfaced in his mind, alarm bells rang in Chu Tinghan’s heart.

He neither nodded nor shook his head, merely kept his eyes fixed on the table, silent and looking displeased.

Unable to decipher Chu Tinghan’s thoughts, Pei Ji didn’t dare press further.

Big Boss Chu’s temperament was notoriously unpredictable, as changeable as the weather. If he could abandon Pei Ji on the road halfway through their wedding, who knew what fate awaited him if he angered the Big Boss this time?

After a moment of hesitation, Pei Ji decided that Chu Tinghan’s personality might not be as harsh as he had imagined. He decided to try one last tactic, explaining gently, “I just wanted to make a promise to your friends, to show them I’ve turned over a new leaf and would never betray you again. I wanted to reassure them.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw Chu Tinghan slightly lift his gaze, a flicker of emotion crossing his beautiful eyes.

Pei Ji mulled this over and realized: Chu Tinghan responds better to soft tactics than hard ones.

Switching tactics, he adopted a tone tinged with regret and feigned grievance. “Actually, I just wanted to meet your friends. If you don’t want me to, that’s fine. I’ll defer to your decision.”

As he had anticipated, after a few seconds of silence, Chu Tinghan opened his mouth, hesitated briefly, then asked, “Which friend do you want to meet?”

Having clawed his way through life for years, Chu Tinghan had actually found few genuine friends. Most people had drifted away, with Zhou Yingjie being his closest confidant.

Pei Ji didn’t want to seem too eager, so he tried to sound casual, his tone indifferent. “Just the one who came to see you earlier. You two seem pretty close. As your partner, I think it’s important for me to get along with your friends.”

His words were perfectly plausible, and the term “partner” inexplicably lifted Chu Tinghan’s spirits, dissolving his lingering unease.

With no logical reason to refuse, Chu Tinghan could only nod in agreement, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“What?!” Zhou Yingjie’s head was spinning when he received the invitation. He had finally found some time to relax, only to be roped into another one of Chu Tinghan’s charades.

It was only now that he realized accepting this arduous task in the first place had been a monumental mistake.

He’d simply adored Lucky Little Bao and desperately wanted to “kidnap” the boy and bring him home. He never imagined he’d end up getting caught in this mess himself.

Chu Tinghan was slightly exasperated. “It’s just a dinner invitation. Can you not overreact?”

Zhou Yingjie remained suspicious. “Why would he specifically invite me to dinner?”

Chu Tinghan frowned slightly, correcting him. “Not you. My friend.”

The unspoken implication was clear: Pei Ji wouldn’t have invited Zhou Yingjie at all if it weren’t for Chu Tinghan.

It took Zhou Yingjie a moment to grasp his meaning. He’d never realized Chu Tinghan was so possessive. Gritting his teeth, he retorted, “Fine, fine, fine! He’s inviting your friend—specifically inviting your friend, Chu Tinghan’s friend!”

Only then did Chu Tinghan appear satisfied, his tone softening. “I’ve already reserved a private room nearby. If you don’t want to drive, I can pick you up.”

Zhou Yingjie: “……”

So even the cold, ruthless Director Chu has his moments of eagerness, he thought. Before, he would have just warned me to take it or leave it. He never would have offered to pick me up personally.

Could this be the power of love?

Zhou Yingjie, who had sealed his heart against romance for years and devoted himself entirely to his career, naturally couldn’t understand the mindset of someone in love. He asked, puzzled, “Do you really like him that much? Does it absolutely have to be him? Can’t you just find someone else?”

The entertainment industry was teeming with countless types of people—why did Chu Tinghan have to fixate on Pei Ji?

Chu Tinghan’s voice was cold. “There’s no other option. It has to be him. Only him.”

Zhou Yingjie muttered a few complaints under his breath on the other end of the line, unable to comprehend why Chu Tinghan was determined to “hang himself from a single tree.”

But the phone’s microphone was too sensitive, and though the voice was soft, Chu Tinghan still heard it.

After a long silence, Zhou Yingjie realized the other man was angry. He regretted his harsh words and scrambled for a way to defuse the tension. “Anyway… as a humanitarian, I still need to advise you that your previous plan to use a stand-in actor was too risky. If the truth comes out…”

“Have you found the stand-in actors?” Chu Tinghan interrupted coldly.

Zhou Yingjie paused, sighed silently, and replied, “Yes, I’ve found three. Whenever you have time, I’ll bring them to meet you. You can pick one.”

Pei Ji hadn’t expected Chu Tinghan to secure a meeting with Zhou Yingjie so quickly.

Zhou Yingjie remained remarkably composed throughout their conversation, maintaining a steady smile and never letting slip a single word.

No matter what Pei Ji asked, Zhou Yingjie had a seamless answer. Even when sensitive topics about Pei Ji and Chu Tinghan arose, he would laugh it off with a joke, smoothly diverting the conversation.

Zhou Yingjie was like an impenetrable shield, rendering Pei Ji’s probing attacks utterly ineffective.

Unable to directly ask the questions he wanted, Pei Ji’s indirect approaches were met with Zhou Yingjie’s smiling evasions, and any sensitive topics were expertly diverted.

When sparring with the Best Actor, Pei Ji was clearly outmatched.

A sense of powerlessness washed over Pei Ji. By the end of the meal, he hadn’t gleaned a single useful piece of information.

The hotel was right at the entrance of the residential complex, and the evening was quiet with few people around. Zhou Yingjie planned to walk home, using the stroll to digest his meal.

As he reached for his coat, Pei Ji suddenly said, “Brother Zhou, let me drive you home.”

Zhou Yingjie nearly dropped his coat in shock.

Are you kidding me? You’re not offering to drive Chu Tinghan, but you want to drive me?

Zhou Yingjie, wanting to live a few more days, refused without a second thought.

But Pei Ji insisted that as a guest, he ought to see Zhou Yingjie home.

Zhou Yingjie stalled by dressing slowly, all the while glancing at Chu Tinghan’s expression. Just then, he saw Chu Tinghan part his lips and say, “Let him take you home.”

Well, now I understand what they mean by ‘the wife follows the husband’s tune.’ This time, he truly had no reason to refuse.

On the way back, Pei Ji kept up a stream of casual conversation, no matter the topic, always circling back to that idiot dog of Zhou Yingjie’s.

Zhou Yingjie sensed an ulterior motive in Pei Ji’s words. He managed to parry the first few questions, but as the inquiries mounted, he grew wary.

If I slip up and reveal something, I’m done for.

Zhou Yingjie suddenly stopped. “Don’t bother taking me any further,” he said. “The streetlights in the neighborhood still haven’t been fixed, and Tinghan’s afraid of the dark. You should go back and keep him company.”

Before Pei Ji could react, Zhou Yingjie had vanished into the night.

Staring down the pitch-black, deserted road, Pei Ji stood motionless, his brow furrowed in thought.

Pei Ji could tell that Zhou Yingjie was deliberately avoiding his questions, but he couldn’t understand why Zhou Yingjie would hide something from him.

What kind of secret was so great that the Best Actor himself would play along with him?

Pei Ji figured that cracking Zhou Yingjie might be the first step to uncovering the truth, so just a few days later, he personally went to Zhou Yingjie’s house again.

But as he approached the door, he saw a moving truck parked outside. Workers in work uniforms were carrying furniture out of the house, one piece at a time, as if they were moving.

Pei Ji rushed forward, anxious. “Are they moving out?”

One of the movers glanced at him. “Yeah, we should be done by tomorrow.”

Pei Ji frowned, looking at the empty living room. “Where are they moving to?”

The mover hesitated for a moment, looking uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.”

Pei Ji watched as piece after piece of furniture was loaded onto the truck, an indescribable frustration churning inside him.

Why would they move out now?

Why specifically at this critical juncture?

The implications sent a chill down his spine.