After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

A few days later, Pei Ji returned to Huanyu Media.

“Bro, I rushed here as soon as I heard. Weren’t you dead set against doing that variety show? What changed your mind?” Qiao He asked, trailing beside him.

Pei Ji glanced sideways, a hint of barely perceptible resignation in his voice. “Do you think I have better options right now?”

Qiao He pressed his lips into a tight line. He had to admit, there was no better way to gain exposure than participating in this variety show.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too risky. After all, Huanyu Media never did anything without a profit motive; their intentions couldn’t be good.

Anxiously, he urged, “Bro, shouldn’t you think this over again? General Xu is always driven by self-interest. If he’s the one initiating this, he’s definitely up to no good.”

“Besides, you’re no longer an artist under Huanyu Media. Even if you refuse, they can’t force you to do anything…”

Pei Ji stopped walking, patted his shoulder, and said, “I know all that. But I have my own reasons. I’m not stupid; don’t worry about me getting taken advantage of.”

Pei Ji had initially thought that after giving General Xu the cold shoulder and blacklisting his contact information, the matter would end there.

To his surprise, the company remained persistent. A few days later, they sent President Wu to invite him again, determined to get him on the variety show no matter what.

Something fishy is going on.

Pei Ji suspected Huanyu Media’s desperate desire to have him on the show meant they saw something valuable in him.

As a washed-up idol whose career had collapsed two years ago, he lacked both backing and popularity. His only remaining asset was his controversial reputation.

The variety show Huanyu Media was trying to get him on was Youth Star Factory 3, a nationally beloved talent competition. The first two seasons had been huge hits, but this season was struggling to gain traction, showing signs of decline.

After watching a few episodes, Pei Ji identified the show’s fatal flaw: its blandness. The contestants were mediocre and lacked distinct personalities, and the entire program was devoid of conflict or drama. For a show like this, that was a death sentence.

As the season’s biggest investor, Huanyu Media couldn’t afford to watch their efforts go down the drain. They were desperate to find a spark that would reignite interest in the show.

Thus, they turned to Pei Ji, whose career had crashed and burned in spectacular fashion two years prior.

A disgraced celebrity making a comeback naturally draws immense attention, requiring almost no marketing to capture the public’s gaze—precisely the kind of explosive element the show needed. Pei Ji surmised they intended to leverage his notoriety to boost the show’s visibility, resurrecting the soon-to-fail high-budget variety program and minimizing their losses.

Pei Ji was desperate to stage a comeback, eager for any opportunity to re-enter the spotlight. Although Huanyu Media clearly harbored ulterior motives, a barefoot man fears no shoes; having already hit rock bottom, he had nothing left to lose.

Huanyu Media, however, was in a different position. Thriving in the industry, the failure of this show would not only result in massive financial losses but, more critically, tarnish their hard-earned reputation, damage the company’s image, and jeopardize future high-value investments.

Strictly speaking, if Pei Ji stood his ground, Huanyu Media would be the one seeking his favor. The tables had turned, and he could try negotiating terms with them.

“Little Pei, being a substitute trainee is already a golden opportunity most would kill for! And you’re trying to negotiate terms with me?” President Wu exclaimed, his jaw dropping in disbelief in his office. As the show’s producer, he had heard Pei Ji was a tough nut to crack, but he hadn’t imagined the man would be this assertive.

Pei Ji barely reacted, a faint, almost disdainful smile playing on his lips. “I can’t accept the substitute trainee position. You’d be better off finding someone else.”

During the first season, he had been one step away from debuting, only to be sabotaged at the last minute and plummet to rock bottom. Substitute trainees were typically cannon fodder who got eliminated in the first round, a status far beneath his dignity. He would never stoop so low.

After a pause, he added with a sardonic smile, “I’ve heard your company’s variety show is nearly halfway through its run, yet its popularity still lags behind another low-budget program on the same platform…”

“What are you implying?” President Wu snapped, his voice icy as if Pei Ji had struck a nerve.

Pei Ji shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing in particular. Just thinking I might need more time to consider this carefully. Wouldn’t want to end up on a show less buzzworthy than the news of my downfall.”

Though the second half of his statement sounded like self-deprecation, President Wu knew it was a veiled barb.

How dare he! President Wu’s hand, hidden beneath the desk, clenched into a fist. He seethed with anger but couldn’t afford to sever ties entirely due to business interests.

The office fell silent for a long moment, broken only by President Wu’s labored breathing, as if he were about to burst from anger.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave. Goodbye,” Pei Ji said, rising to his feet with long strides, as if to leave immediately.

“Wait,” President Wu finally spoke, gritting his teeth and forcing out the words, “State your terms.”

Pei Ji glanced at him sidelong, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll consider joining the show, but only as a guest star. Otherwise, forget it.”

President Wu slammed his hand on the desk, leaping to his feet. One hand pressed against his chest, while the other shook uncontrollably as he pointed at Pei Ji and roared, “A guest star? What kind of status is that? What kind of status do you have? Don’t push your luck!”

Pei Ji remained utterly unfazed by the furious outburst. He merely smirked, his voice flat and indifferent. “I heard your company’s project has stalled. The rating dropped from S to A, right? And the female lead you were about to sign got scared off? If you still can’t secure investment—”

“You dare threaten me?” President Wu felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, his blood turning icy cold. He couldn’t fathom where this small-time actor, with no connections to speak of, found the audacity to challenge him.

While Pei Ji might seem to have nothing to lose, this very lack of resources was now his greatest advantage. Having already hit rock bottom, there was nowhere further for him to fall. Huanyu Media, on the other hand, couldn’t afford the failure of their program.

Compared to Pei Ji, Huanyu Media desperately needed his star power to revive the show. Yet Pei Ji remained aloof, as if indifferent to making a comeback.

President Wu weighed his options for what felt like an eternity before hardening his resolve. “A guest appearance, you say? Fine, I agree.”

He slid the contract across the desk to Pei Ji, a barely perceptible glint of malice flickering in his eyes. “If there are no further issues, sign here.”

Pei Ji calmly walked back, picked up the contract, and meticulously reviewed it from beginning to end. After confirming there were no predatory clauses, he picked up a pen and signed with a flourish.

As he turned to leave, he gave President Wu a half-hearted smile and said, “Pleasure doing business with you,” nearly giving the man a heart attack with fury.

Who said Pei Ji had grown weak and pliable over the past few years? This man, who refuses to yield an inch, is anything but easy to handle!

When Pei Ji pushed open the office door, he noticed it felt unusually heavy. With a stronger shove, he saw a crowd of people huddled outside.

Their faces flushed with embarrassment as they saw him emerge, and they scurried away like startled mice.

Only Qiao He remained, standing there blankly as if he hadn’t fully woken up.

Pei Ji waved a hand in front of Qiao He’s face. “What’s wrong? Lost your mind?”

Qiao He’s thoughts tangled like a knotted string. He opened his mouth and whispered, “How… how did you know about the company’s new project being downgraded?”

Even he had only heard rumors, yet Pei Ji seemed to know more than he did.

Pei Ji strode forward, casually tossing out two words: “Just a guess.”

Qiao He’s eyes widened, and he let out a bewildered “Huh?”

Pei Ji chuckled. “I overheard someone talking on the phone while we were waiting for the elevator earlier. The conversation gave me the gist of it.”

Bringing it up to President Wu had been a gamble, a way to increase his leverage. If he lost, he could handle the consequences.

He wasn’t desperate for Huanyu Media’s show anyway. There was no need to act overly deferential from the start.

As he’d predicted, he’d managed to turn the tables with this move.

Looking back now, even he found it somewhat unbelievable.

After a moment, Pei Ji suddenly asked, “By the way, do you know anyone in marketing? Huanyu Media has always relied on underhanded tactics, and this time he absolutely couldn’t repeat his past mistakes. He needed to prepare early.”

Qiao He gave an awkward smile. “Everyone I know is just like me—a wage earner…”

He paused, then suddenly remembered someone. After a moment’s hesitation, he stammered, “But I do have a few connections. I’m good friends with President An of Xinzhu Entertainment.”

He deliberately emphasized the words “President An” and subtly glanced up to observe Pei Ji’s reaction.

But Pei Ji showed little reaction to the name, as if he didn’t recognize it at all.

Qiao He couldn’t tell if Pei Ji genuinely didn’t care about what had happened back then, or if he had completely cut ties with that person and was pretending not to know her. After another moment’s hesitation, he asked cautiously, “You know President An too, right? She’s actually been wanting to see you for a while now, but she doesn’t know how to bring it up.”

Pei Ji froze, startled. “I know her?”

Who is President An? Right now, he only knew one Director Chu. Could it be he was two-timing? Or even more…

No way…

Pei Ji’s thoughts raced, praying his past self hadn’t been such a scumbag. Please don’t let me have been cheating on Director Chu with another President An.

Seeing Pei Ji’s bewildered expression, a string of question marks appeared above Qiao He’s head. “She… she was your former manager,” he said, surprised.

“Ma-manager,” Pei Ji breathed, relief washing over him. False alarm.

Qiao He frowned. “Brother, you haven’t forgotten even that, have you?”

“I’m not fully recovered yet, so I don’t remember some things,” Pei Ji said, eager to change the subject. “You said she’s been wanting to see me?”

Qiao He pursed his lips, unsure. “Do you want to see her?”

Pei Ji caught the underlying meaning in his words, guessing there might have been some unpleasantness between him and President An. Dismissing it as trivial, he said nonchalantly, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Qiao He’s eyes lit up. He pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to someone, then exclaimed excitedly, “Great! I’ll take you to see her right now. Sister An has been looking forward to this for ages!”

Ten minutes later, Pei Ji stared at the familiar office building, bewildered. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Isn’t this where Chu Tinghan’s studio is located?

Qiao He nodded emphatically. “No mistake. Sister An’s company is located here. She did mention the rented space is rather small and might not look very impressive…”

Qiao He chattered endlessly about Xinzhu Entertainment, but Pei Ji barely registered a word.

Right now, Pei Ji couldn’t help but think it was fortunate Chu Tinghan was at home recovering from his injuries. If he’d found out I was meeting with some “President An,” who knows what kind of possessive stunt that love-struck boss would pull?

Inside, Qiao He confidently led Pei Ji through the familiar corridors to Sister An’s company.

A small pile of construction debris still lay outside Xinzhu Entertainment’s entrance, a clear sign of a newly established company.

Pei Ji had always imagined that someone capable of independently founding a company would be a seasoned corporate veteran, especially since Qiao He referred to her as “Sister An” and “President An.” He had expected a decisive, career-driven businesswoman.

Instead, the person before him looked remarkably young, about his age, and carried none of the airs of a CEO. The moment they met, she bowed formally to him, and her words left him utterly bewildered.

“Pei Ji, I owe you an apology. Two years ago, I failed to protect you,” President An said with sincere earnestness, though she looked no older than her early twenties.

Pei Ji was dumbfounded, wondering if the world had somehow flipped on its head. Why would a president apologize to him—her subordinate—and claim she hadn’t protected him?

A strapping man nearing six-foot-three needs protection from a young woman?

Pei Ji quickly helped her up. “Please rise. Let’s discuss this calmly.”

After chatting for over half an hour, Pei Ji learned that President An’s real name was An Zhu. Two years prior, she had been his manager at Huanyu Media. Back then, he was a trainee, while An Zhu was a fresh-faced intern just starting her career.

An Zhu had always felt responsible for Pei Ji’s forced withdrawal from the industry years ago, the result of a deliberate frame-up. Her inexperience had failed to protect her artist, leaving Pei Ji to endure unwarranted slander for far too long.

“I’m truly sorry,” An Zhu said, her face etched with guilt. “Back then, I lacked the authority within the company and the experience to protect you. That’s why you were dragged into that mess.” She looked like she might drop to her knees right there.

Hearing this, Pei Ji could only sigh helplessly. He knew An Zhu wasn’t entirely to blame; the real culprit was Huanyu Media, who had discarded him like a spent pawn after using him to elevate their favored “royalty.”

“I’ve spent the past two years studying and gaining experience. If you’re willing to give me a chance to make amends, I’ll pour every resource I have into making you a star, even if it bankrupts me,” An Zhu said with unwavering resolve, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

The proposal came too suddenly. Pei Ji hadn’t yet sorted through his thoughts, neither nodding nor shaking his head.

“I understand your reservations,” An Zhu said. “Although our company is new, you’d be our only artist. I promise to focus all my energy on you, pouring every resource I can secure into your success.”

She paused, then added, “Other companies require contracts starting at five years. I’m not demanding that. You can renew every six months. If you’re not satisfied, you can terminate the contract at any time without penalty.”

These words sounded like a scam—a pie falling from the sky—but they were An Zhu’s sincere feelings. She had never stopped dwelling on what had happened years ago and desperately wanted Pei Ji’s forgiveness.

Pei Ji sighed helplessly. Ultimately, An Zhu wasn’t to blame. The entertainment industry was full of discarded pawns, and as a mere manager, she wasn’t obligated to take full responsibility for her artists.

He said calmly, “You don’t need to do this. It’s just work. No one owes anyone anything.”

After a moment of silence, as if she hadn’t heard him, An Zhu remained stubborn, her voice earnest. “Please give me a chance to make amends.”

Seeing her determination, Pei Ji felt conflicted. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to give her a chance, but he couldn’t afford to waste any time.

Six months might not seem long to others, but for a growing child, it was crucial—enough time for him to go from babbling to fluently calling out “Daddy.”

Following Chu Tinghan’s lead, Pei Ji had never been involved in his child’s life since birth. Pei Ji wasn’t even sure if his child still recognized him as his deadbeat father.

The other party remained silent for a long time, and An Zhu likely understood his reservations but refused to give up. Recalling the message Qiao He had sent him, she decided to try anything, desperate for a chance. “Then how about this… at least give me a trial period? You’re not signed with a company right now and lack a professional team. I can’t promise anything else, but I swear I’ll do everything in my power to help you during the audition show. I absolutely won’t let Huanyu Media sabotage you again.”

As a manager and company founder, An Zhu had already humbled herself considerably. After a moment of deep thought, Pei Ji finally agreed.

Rehabilitating a scandal-ridden artist would require an immense investment. Pei Ji knew that given his current reputation, few companies would be willing to sign him, let alone offer the kind of support An Zhu promised.

Objectively speaking, An Zhu’s offer far exceeded his expectations. Pei Ji had no reason to refuse.

After much deliberation, he decided to take another gamble—not just to give An Zhu a chance, but also to give himself a boost for a fresh start.

With a team behind him, Pei Ji’s career finally began to take shape.

“Bro, you’re gonna blow up this time!” Qiao He exclaimed, thrilled about Pei Ji’s return to the entertainment industry. Pei Ji merely hummed in response, his mind occupied with other matters.

With his own career finally taking off, he could finally shed the label of a kept man. If Boss Chu was willing, he’d gladly return the favor and support him instead.

No, perhaps he shouldn’t call him “Boss Chu” anymore. He should call him… his other half.

In the past, he’d recoiled at the thought of settling down with a wife and children, even harboring a deep-seated fear of such a life. But now, he found himself yearning for it, however faintly.

What a joke, Pei Ji thought, a touch of self-mockery creeping into his thoughts.

Though he hated to admit it, he could still feel the deep-rooted obsession hidden within his heart. No matter how carefree he pretended to be, he still yearned for a warm, loving home.

The home his foster parents had created had been a shattered, false dream. But perhaps this time… it could be real.