After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Five years ago, backstage at Communication University’s centennial celebration.

“Oh my god, you brought an acoustic guitar? Can this thing even be plugged in? I needed an electric guitar! We’re up next! How is Pei Ji supposed to perform with this?” Lü Yi paced frantically. But the new club member stood with his head bowed, and Lü Yi didn’t have the heart to scold him further. He could only send someone else to fetch the electric guitar.

Kong Chuan had come to take photos for them, traveling all the way from Medical University. He never expected to encounter such a disaster. “Lü Yi, calm down,” he said soothingly. “Pei Ji has already gone back for his own guitar. He should be here any minute. Just wait a little longer.”

“How can I not panic? All the university leaders are sitting right in front of the stage!” Lü Yi was sweating bullets. “I heard there’s even some celebrity in the audience—a Senior named Chu from a few years ago.”

He carefully dabbed his forehead with a tissue, terrified of smudging his foundation.

A moment later, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed behind him.

In the deepening twilight, Pei Ji’s figure gradually came into view. To Lü Yi, he seemed like a savior descending from the heavens, deserving of a spotlight.

Pei Ji, the star of the show, finally arrived with his electric guitar. He pulled it from its case, still panting slightly from his mad dash. “Had to switch guitars at the last minute,” he explained. “The color might clash with the stage design, but it’ll have to do.”

The moment he finished speaking, the electric guitar in Pei Ji’s hands instantly drew everyone’s attention.

The instrument was stunningly beautiful, its blue-and-white color scheme evoking a sense of crisp, clean freshness. The white shimmered like pure moonlight, while the pale blue surface was adorned with unique patterns resembling rippling ocean waves, layered in shimmering, iridescent layers.

From the moment Pei Ji revealed the guitar, Lü Yi’s gaze remained fixed on it, his eyes practically glowing gold. “Holy crap, when did you get this? Weren’t you using that black-and-red one before? Where did you find this gem? Got a link?” He even reached out to touch it.

Pei Ji deftly moved the guitar aside, dodging Lü Yi’s outstretched hand. “She bought it for me,” he explained casually. “I was planning to return it, but guess it came in handy today.”

“Hold up! This guitar must be hard to get, right? Wait a minute…” Lü Yi’s eyes darted around, clicking his tongue in amazement. “Who’s ‘she’ you’re talking about? Not some girl chasing after you, is it? Nice! You really went all out, didn’t you? This thing doesn’t look cheap.”

Pei Ji shot him a sidelong glance, worried about his friend’s intelligence. Too lazy to argue, he tersely replied, “My mom.”

“Your mom… Your mom?!” Lü Yi exclaimed, losing control of his voice in shock.

In the next instant, a wave of strange, disdainful stares washed over him.

Lü Yi froze, then abruptly realized they might think he’d just sworn. He frantically waved his hands in all directions. “I didn’t curse! It’s just a term—ouch!” A sharp slap landed on the back of his head.

Pei Ji had truly had enough. He bitterly regretted having such a scatterbrained childhood friend. Grabbing Lü Yi by the neck, he shoved him forward and ran.

Once they were a safe distance from the crowd, Lü Yi rubbed the back of his head and hissed, “Damn, that was a hard one. Hey, didn’t you say your parents stopped caring about you after the divorce? How come your mom bought you an electric guitar?”

Pei Ji didn’t want to talk about it, his face practically screaming indifference. “My finger slipped. Wrong button.”

“……” Lü Yi’s face said it all: speechless.

Kong Chuan, accustomed to their usual banter, ignored Lü Yi’s melodramatic performance of self-imposed isolation. He stared thoughtfully at the electric guitar in Pei Ji’s hand. “Is that the one with the Larimar finish?”

Pei Ji nodded.

Kong Chuan spoke earnestly, “It really suits you. Why don’t you keep it? After four years, your mom might have had a change of—”

“I don’t need it,” Pei Ji cut him off coldly. Straightening his clothes, he went to rally the club members. “Everyone, get ready. We’re going on stage soon.”

This year marked the centennial anniversary of Communication University’s founding. The school administration had placed immense importance on the centennial celebrations, spending nearly a month on rehearsals alone. The evening’s program featured only the most outstanding performances, selected from the university’s elite student organizations, and Pei Ji’s club was among them.

The club, Dreamcatcher, was less a club and more a large band, with Pei Ji serving as both lead vocalist and captain. Under his leadership, Dreamcatcher had become the most renowned club at Communication University. Any school event, big or small, would inevitably be packed with spectators whenever Dreamcatcher took the stage. During this year’s recruitment, the stack of application forms they received was taller than a person.

For the university’s centennial celebration gala, Dreamcatcher had been specifically selected by the school administrators as the headlining performers, and the school had extremely high expectations for their performance.

Because it was the university’s centennial, the audience included not only faculty and students but also distinguished alumni from previous graduating classes and leaders from major corporations affiliated with the university.

As soon as the emcee announced their performance, the crowd erupted into a frenzy.

“Dreamcatcher? I remember back when we graduated, this band was on the verge of disbanding. Has it somehow been resurrected?”

“Isn’t Dreamcatcher the club that the school administration had that Chu-surname senior set up during our freshman year? They wanted to use his celebrity status to create some buzz around a star-studded campus group, but he was always too busy to manage it. I thought the club had disbanded ages ago—I never expected to see them performing at the centennial gala!”

“I heard the administration actually tried to shut Dreamcatcher down back then. But then a junior took over, and rumor has it he’s incredibly talented—he not only revived the club but revitalized it completely, sending its popularity soaring. Even students from other universities sneak in to watch their performances!”

“Hey, do you think the senior who founded Dreamcatcher is here for such an important occasion as the centennial celebration? I wonder how he’d feel seeing the club he created thriving under someone else’s leadership.”

“Wait, is that the senior you’re talking about?” One of the girls pointed toward the front row of the audience, where the school principal had just risen to greet an extraordinarily dignified and refined man. “I saw his nameplate on the seat—it said… Chu Tinghan.”

Following her gaze, the crowd turned to see the distinguished man already seated, leaving them only a glimpse of his captivating silhouette.

Moments later, he tilted his head slightly toward the school administrator beside him, the light catching his profile perfectly. The soft glow outlined his flawless features: a high, straight nose; deep-set eyes; a sharply defined jawline; and thin lips curved into a measured smile, his face like a masterpiece sculpted by the Creator’s own hand.

“I apologize for the late arrival,” Chu Tinghan said with a hint of regret, his voice distinctively magnetic, yet tinged with a cool reserve. “My flight was delayed.”

Having just released his new album, he was in the midst of a hectic promotional tour, his schedule packed to the brim.

The school administrator nodded understandingly. “We know how busy you are,” he said politely. “We’re deeply grateful you could make it.”

Seated beside the administrator was Professor Zheng, dean of the music conservatory and Chu Tinghan’s mentor. Turning toward his former student, he gestured to the stage. “Tinghan, do you remember the band you founded back then? The one adjusting the microphone at center stage is the current bandleader—your direct junior, no less.”

Chu Tinghan felt a pang of guilt at the mention. “Yes, I remember. Back then, I…” But Professor Zheng cut him off mid-sentence.

Professor Zheng used to grumble about Chu Tinghan neglecting the band, causing it to plummet in quality. But now, having discovered a gem like Pei Ji through the band, he was too overjoyed to dwell on the past. He waved dismissively, “Ah, what’s past is past. The band’s doing great now! Dreamcatcher has practically become our school’s flagship! Without you, this band wouldn’t even exist. You deserve a share of the credit for Dreamcatcher’s success today.”

Chu Tinghan didn’t dare take credit, but he also didn’t want to dampen Professor Zheng’s enthusiasm. He could only offer a polite smile in response.

Soon after, the performance instruments were set up one by one. The stage lights dimmed, and the audience held their breath in anticipation.

Boom! A heavy drumbeat shattered the silence, building from slow to rapid with a flurry of intense rhythms. Spotlights, synchronized with the drumming, focused one by one on the center of the stage.

Under the spotlight’s glare stood a striking figure: Pei Ji, clad in a black leather jacket over a white shirt. Though a simple combination, it looked exceptionally striking on him. He gripped the microphone, chuckled softly, and spoke the simplest words to ignite the crowd’s excitement. Applause and cheers surged in waves, each louder than the last.

Clash! The cymbals rang out crisply as the converging spotlights gradually dispersed, bathing the entire stage in light. The other instruments joined in, weaving their melodies with the shifting rhythms of the music.

This song was an adapted version of the school anthem. The original was too solemn for the celebratory atmosphere of the school anniversary, so Pei Ji infused it with modern pop elements, quickening the tempo and making it more catchy.

The audience below the stage erupted in praise. Professor Zheng’s eyes shone with admiration as he chuckled and exclaimed, “Tinghan, he’s that exceptionally talented student I mentioned earlier—even more gifted than you were in your day!”

Remembering Professor Zheng’s notoriously strict demeanor, Chu Tinghan had never heard him express such unreserved praise for anyone before. Thinking the young man might be related to the professor, he ventured, “Is he your… son?”

Professor Zheng paused, then chuckled even more heartily. “If only I had such a gifted son! He’s my student—your direct junior. He’s only twenty years old this year.”

The unspoken implication hung in the air: at such a young age, he already possessed dazzling talent and achievements, his future brimming with limitless potential.

Hearing this, Chu Tinghan turned his gaze back to the stage. By now, the song was nearing its end. The singer’s voice flowed like a clear stream, nourishing the heart.

As Pei Ji sang, he effortlessly engaged with the audience, exuding an air of effortless mastery.

Chu Tinghan noticed, however, that the electric guitar slung across his back remained unused, surmising the real performance had yet to begin.

As the song ended, the audience lingered, seemingly lost in the music, unwilling to break the spell.

Just when everyone assumed Dreamcatcher was about to leave the stage, Pei Ji suddenly strummed the electric guitar. Its metallic tone, laced with a faint electrical hum, instantly commanded the crowd’s attention once more.

As countless eyes locked onto him, he merely smirked, pressed a hand to his chest, and in the next instant, a powerful heartbeat pulsed through the speakers, signaling the true performance had begun.

Dynamic rock music instantly ignited the crowd’s fervor. At its peak, it roared like storm-tossed waves; at its ebb, it prowled like a wild beast’s low growl.

The wind billowed through, whipping at the hem of his clothes, showcasing the unbridled exuberance of youth to its fullest.

Carried on the wind came the raw, untamed spirit of adolescence.

Chu Tinghan stared fixedly at the young man on stage, suddenly feeling his long-dormant heart begin to beat again, each pulse stronger than the last. A nascent emotion began to stir within him.

When Pei Ji stepped down from the stage, Chu Tinghan’s gaze unconsciously followed him until a sudden, jarring voice crackled through the sound system, pulling him back to reality.

“Nice one, Young Master Pei, static—” The voice cut off mid-sentence, leaving only static, but the teasing tone was unmistakable, like the good-natured ribbing between close friends.

Hearing this booming across the hall, Pei Ji’s vision went black, and he wanted to die right then and there. Gritting his teeth, he snapped, “Can you think for once before you speak? Consider my well-being, for God’s sake!”

Lü Yi internally wailed, An accident is an accident! I didn’t know the mic was still on!

Ignoring him, Pei Ji brushed past his shoulder and strode away.

Lü Yi trotted after him, desperate to salvage the situation. “…Maybe no one heard it?”

Pei Ji crossed the stage and glanced at the audience, their voices buzzing with chatter. He didn’t need to guess what they were discussing.

“Thanks a lot,” he muttered sarcastically. Thanks to Lü Yi, his “Young Master Pei” title had finally become famous worldwide.

The nickname “Young Master Pei” had been Lü Yi’s spontaneous creation. Back in their freshman year, to boost his comprehensive assessment score, Pei Ji reluctantly joined the drama club and performed in a play. He played a young master from the Republican era, and somehow the title “Young Master” migrated from the stage to the audience. Coupled with his habit of coolly declaring “I’ll handle it” whenever the club faced an intractable problem, it created an image of effortless elegance.

The club members, unsure how else to address him, simply followed Lü Yi’s lead and started calling him “Young Master Pei,” much to Pei Ji’s initial annoyance.

By the time he tried to put a stop to it, the moniker had already spread like wildfire throughout the club.

This time was even worse—the nickname had now permeated the entire school. Pei Ji, furious, decided to give Lü Yi a taste of his own medicine: “Lü Yi, if you keep this up, I’m going to start calling you ‘Iron Pillar’ from now on.”

“Wait, what are you even talking about? It’s been years since I played that lackey role in our freshman-year play! How do you still remember?” Iron Pillar lacked the dignified flair of Young Master Pei, and Lü Yi vehemently protested.

He hurried to catch up with Pei Ji, protesting, “Seriously, I was talking so fast just now, the microphone probably didn’t pick up properly, and with all the noise in the crowd, hardly anyone could have heard it anyway.”

Unfortunately for him, reality defied his hopes. Not only had the audience heard him, they’d heard him perfectly clearly—especially those in the front row closest to the speakers.

Hearing the title “Young Master Pei,” Professor Zheng’s pleased smile faltered. Realizing who was being addressed, a hint of indulgence softened his expression. “They’re just young and foolish, fooling around.”

Pei Ji merely raised an eyebrow, his expression enigmatic, somewhere between a smile and a smirk as he hummed noncommittally.

Young Master Pei? That’s a rare title. It sounds like some kind of underworld organization.

The title “Young Master Pei” felt utterly detached from reality, absurd yet immaturely comical, like children playing house.

In the past, hearing such a title would have immediately landed both the person and the appellation on Chu Tinghan’s blacklist. Yet now, applied to this particular individual, it seemed to possess a certain allure.

Far from finding it ridiculous, Chu Tinghan was surprised to discover that it perfectly suited the man’s radiant and flamboyant stage presence, igniting an irresistible urge to approach and explore.

Now, whenever he thought of “Young Master Pei,” he felt a thrilling surge of energy.

Realizing the direction of his thoughts, Chu Tinghan lowered his head, suppressing the corners of his lips that threatened to curl upward, attempting to extinguish these inappropriate flames.

But his runaway thoughts defied control. The more he tried to douse the flames, the more fiercely they roared, a wildfire erupting in his chest, igniting a fervent desire for conquest.