After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“Tinghan, what did you think of the school’s anniversary celebration this year?” As the audience gradually dispersed after the gala, Professor Zheng strolled leisurely alongside Chu Tinghan, occasionally engaging him in small talk.

But Chu Tinghan seemed oblivious to his words, his gaze fixed ahead but unfocused, lost in thought.

Professor Zheng turned to look at him. “Tinghan?”

Chu Tinghan finally snapped out of his reverie, opening his mouth belatedly. “I’m listening. Please continue.”

Professor Zheng chuckled dryly, unable to resist calling him out. “You’ve been spacing out since earlier. What’s on your mind?”

Chu Tinghan evaded the question with a dismissive, “It’s nothing.”

Professor Zheng found his distraction mildly curious but had no intention of pressing the matter. Smiling, he resumed the earlier topic. “This anniversary gala was organized by our department. I’ve been working on it since the beginning of the year, and finally, I can say we’ve delivered a satisfactory result.”

Professor Zheng paused, then unconsciously began praising Pei Ji again: “The success of this evening’s gala is largely thanks to Little Pei’s help. He guided and refined nearly half of the performances.”

Intrigued, Chu Tinghan tilted his head and asked, “Is the Little Pei you’re referring to the current lead vocalist of Dreamcatcher?”

Mention of his prized student prompted Professor Zheng to exclaim with heartfelt pride, “That’s him! Little Pei is a student I mentored, and he’s also your direct junior. It’s such a shame he enrolled just as you graduated. If Dreamcatcher had both of you powerhouses at the same time, their momentum would be unstoppable!”

Professor Zheng sighed heavily and shook his head repeatedly, muttering endless regrets.

“…Not necessarily,” Chu Tinghan suddenly interjected, seemingly disagreeing with his professor’s assessment.

Professor Zheng froze, momentarily stunned to be challenged by his own student.

Was he disagreeing with Professor Zheng’s assessment that Dreamcatcher’s momentum was even stronger? Or did he disapprove of the professor’s suggestion that he had “just missed” his chance?

Professor Zheng turned to him, a questioning look in his eyes.

Chu Tinghan chuckled softly. “You overestimate me, Professor. I don’t have that kind of influence. Dreamcatcher’s success is entirely due to him—it has nothing to do with me.”

Ah, that’s what he meant, Professor Zheng thought, feeling truly muddled in his old age, even his thoughts going astray. He forced a dry laugh and changed the subject. “Are you still taking the early morning flight tomorrow?”

Normally, Chu Tinghan would answer this question without hesitation. But this time, he hesitated for a rare moment before replying with shocking composure: “No rush. I don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, so I’ll stay a few extra days to keep you company.”

Such sweet talk, Professor Zheng thought skeptically, not believing a word of it. He’s just using me as an excuse. He sighed helplessly. “You, my dear Tinghan, I suspect your true intentions lie elsewhere?”

Chu Tinghan’s lips curved into a sly smile, revealing nothing.

The Dreamcatcher practice room buzzed with energy the next day. The members were still riding the high from their electrifying performance the night before, unable to shake off the afterglow.

“Hey, did you guys know our school anniversary livestream had over ten thousand viewers? The peak reached nearly twenty thousand! And guess which performance hit that peak?”

Lü Yi, a lollipop dangling from his lips, spoke with swaggering confidence. “Need you even ask? Of course it was Dreamcatcher! A performance even Chu, the superstar, praised—it was bound to draw a crowd.”

With that, he strolled over to Pei Ji and clapped him on the back. “Right, Young Master?”

Fearlessly insolent, Lü Yi just had to call him “Young Master” out of spite. Pei Ji couldn’t kick him out, so he pretended not to hear, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. “Superstar this, superstar that… Stop blowing smoke, will you? I swear you’re about to float away.”

Lü Yi crunched down the last of his lollipop and swallowed it, his expression turning serious. “I’m not blowing smoke! Professor Zheng himself said so this morning when I passed by his office. He even mentioned that our senior, Chu Tinghan, praised you after watching the gala.”

“Senior Chu Tinghan, our direct senior?” Pei Ji visibly froze for a moment, his brows furrowing involuntarily. “Who did you say was in the audience last night?” he asked incredulously.

“Chu Tinghan, of course,” Lü Yi replied casually. “He’s a senior from a few classes ahead of us, one of the founders of Dreamcatcher, I think. He’s been a moderately successful singer in the entertainment industry for years.”

After a pause, Lü Yi clicked his tongue. “Hey, didn’t you used to say you were a big fan of his? Why don’t you ask Professor Zheng to introduce you?”

At this, Pei Ji set down his task and gave Lü Yi a look that spoke volumes.

Why did that sound so… awkward?

An introduction? Does he think I’m the god of matchmaking?

Lü Yi had managed to twist Pei Ji’s innocent admiration into something resembling romantic infatuation.

Pei Ji, thoroughly exasperated, shot him a cold glare.

Lü Yi pretended not to notice, remaining stubbornly unrepentant. “Seriously, you should seize this opportunity. Big stars like him are always busy. If you miss this chance, who knows when you’ll get another?”

Pei Ji didn’t have the patience to argue with him. He brushed him off with a perfunctory, “Alright, I get it. Can you just wait until I finish editing this video?”

“Editing what video?” Lü Yi leaned closer, peering at the complex tracks in the editing software. “Isn’t this supposed to be New Media’s job? Why are you doing it?”

“Come on, Mr. Club President, you don’t have to take on everything yourself, you know.”

The college needed it urgently, and Pei Ji didn’t want to be distracted. He had no time for idle chatter. “The Vice Dean asked me to do it for the college’s promotional video,” he said curtly.

“Pfft, why bother with all this? School New Media already has a version ready. Just ask them for a copy. They edited and posted the video from last night’s gala this morning—talk about efficiency!”

As Lü Yi spoke, he tapped open a short video app. Half a minute later, his eyes widened abruptly. He blinked repeatedly, as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, before exclaiming in disbelief, “Holy moly… Dude, stop editing! Come look at this—are these stats even real?” He patted Pei Ji’s shoulder, urging him to come see.

This slap caused Pei Ji to hit the wrong key. Taking a deep breath to suppress his anger, he gritted his teeth and snapped, “Just do me a favor and stop messing around, okay?”

Lü Yi, still lost in his own world, kept slapping Pei Ji’s shoulder, growing more enthusiastic with each strike. “No way, man! You—you’re gonna blow up, aren’t you?!”

His anger was indeed about to ignite.

Pei Ji stood up and, without another word, shoved Lü Yi toward the door, eager to get rid of this troublesome “big Buddha.”

Lü Yi resisted, desperately shoving his phone in Pei Ji’s face. “Wait, hold on! I’m serious—you’re going viral! The video was posted this morning, and it’s already got a million likes by noon!”

Pei Ji glanced at the screen. The video showed footage of Dreamcatcher’s performance at last night’s school anniversary celebration, with him perfectly centered in the frame.

He froze, abandoning his attempts to push Lü Yi away. Instead, he snatched the phone, his expression shifting to disbelief.

Posted five hours earlier, the video had already surpassed a million likes and garnered hundreds of thousands of shares. Clueless netizens, mistaking him for a performer at some music festival, flooded the comments section with inquiries about his identity.

Is this some kind of music festival? Who’s the lead singer of this band? I’ve never seen them before. Are they rookies?

Their stage presence is amazing! They’re way more polished than most of the new boy groups debuting these days, especially the lead singer. His live vocals are flawless. How have I never heard of this band before? With this level of talent, it’s a crime they’re not famous!

Oh my god! I just noticed the uploader’s username—it’s the official account of Communication University! This isn’t a music festival at all; it’s the university’s anniversary gala?!

Damn, I was about to stan them! But you’re telling me they’re just college students who haven’t even graduated yet?!

The lead singer is so handsome—he looks like a video game character rendered to perfection!

Is this what the essence of youth feels like? After graduating so many years ago, I’d almost forgotten the carefree spirit of college life.

The moment the lead singer opened his mouth, the world seemed to brighten.

His voice is so unique—a bright, metallic tone that sounds both clear and warm.

One minute! I need all the information about the lead singer, stat!

The comment section stretched endlessly. Though most netizens were praising Pei Ji, Lü Yi, as a member of Dreamcatcher, felt his vanity swell with immense satisfaction.

“Ah, so this is what it feels like to be a star! It’s amazing!” Lü Yi grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. “Look, there’s even an entertainment company down here offering you a contract! Don’t miss this golden opportunity—opportunities like this don’t come twice. Why don’t you consider it?”

Pei Ji, currently focused on his studies and eager to graduate smoothly, had no interest in debuting at the moment. He replied calmly, “Let’s talk about it later.”

“Ah…” Lü Yi looked as crestfallen as if he’d just lost a million yuan.

Lü Yi dragged a chair over and sat beside Pei Ji, occasionally reciting glowing comments from the thread in an attempt to sway him. Yet Pei Ji remained unmoved, completely ignoring him as if he were air.

After a while, Pei Ji finally finished editing the school anniversary performance video. Just as he was about to send it to the Vice Dean, a friend request suddenly popped up on his messaging app.

The sender had discovered Dreamcatcher through the short video and believed their style perfectly aligned with the mall’s anniversary celebration. Their purpose was clear: they wanted to invite Dreamcatcher to perform at the commercial event, offering a handsome fee—a substantial sum for ordinary college students.

As fate would have it, Pei Ji had been planning a small music festival on campus, but the External Relations Department had been struggling to secure sponsorships, leaving the festival’s fate hanging in the balance.

If they could successfully land this commercial gig, not only would they raise enough funds for the festival, but they’d also have some left over to upgrade the club’s equipment.

After careful consideration, Pei Ji concluded that the benefits far outweighed the risks. He had no reason to refuse, and ultimately accepted the commercial performance offer.

The client was straightforward. Upon hearing his acceptance, they immediately sent over the requirements. Most of the terms were reasonable and acceptable to Pei Ji. The only catch was that the song selection was theirs to decide. The chosen song was the well-known love song “Flutter,” a tune that captured the nervous excitement of love at first sight.

Pei Ji had always had a peculiar flaw: he had never been in love nor felt any romantic stirrings for anyone. As a result, his love song performances often lacked emotional depth, yet emotional depth was precisely what love songs needed most. For him, this seemingly minor flaw could prove fatal to his performance.

He holed himself up in the practice room, repeatedly listening to his own recordings, yet each version still fell short.

At noon, Lü Yi came to deliver his lunch. Pushing open the door, he found Pei Ji had switched his practice method again, now sitting at the piano, singing along as he played.

“Hey, stop practicing,” Lü Yi called out, inviting him to eat. “You’ve been singing for days. Can your voice even handle it? Take a break.”

Pei Ji sat at the piano, his hands resting limply on the keys. He pressed a few keys at random, without any rhyme or reason.

Lü Yi reassured him, “Honestly, you’re being too hard on yourself. I think your singing already sounds great.”

Pei Ji frowned deeply, muttering, “It’s still not good enough.”

Lü Yi couldn’t understand why he was so fixated on perfection for a simple commercial gig.

During the meal, Pei Ji picked at his food slowly, taking only a few bites before setting down his chopsticks, his mind still preoccupied with the love song.

“Why don’t you get some coaching?” Lü Yi suggested after a moment’s thought. “I heard Senior Chu Tinghan, our star alumnus, is still around. Why not ask him for advice? He debuted early and has tons of experience—he might actually have a solution to your problem.”

Hearing this, Pei Ji pondered for a moment, realizing Lü Yi’s suggestion might actually be viable.

Asking Senior Chu for guidance was indeed the best option he could think of right now. The only problem was… how to bring it up?

Is it really okay to ask someone to teach me how to sing a love song on our first meeting?

Pei Ji spent an entire day mentally preparing to ask Chu Tinghan for advice on singing love songs.

“Go ahead, I’ll wait for you here.” As they reached the first-floor lobby, Lü Yi, who had promised to accompany him to Professor Zheng’s office to get Chu Tinghan’s contact information, suddenly changed his mind and refused to go any further.

“Teacher Zheng knows you well, but not me,” Lü Yi said, acutely aware of his own reputation. “If you’re the professor’s right-hand man, I’m his biggest headache. I skipped his class the day before yesterday, and I’m feeling guilty…”

Pei Ji hadn’t expected him to be useful anyway. He strode forward alone; Professor Zheng’s office was on the first floor, barely a dozen meters from the lobby.

He stopped at the door, took a deep breath to compose himself, cleared his throat, and knocked.

Muffled voices drifted from inside, suggesting someone else was with Professor Zheng. For some reason, Pei Ji had a hunch it might be Senior Chu.

The knock brought sudden silence inside, followed by Professor Zheng’s shout: “Come in!”

Pei Ji’s grip on the doorknob tightened. After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed the door open and entered, forcing a nonchalant smile to mask his nervousness.

“Teacher Zheng, I came to see you about—”

His words froze mid-sentence as his gaze collided with another pair of eyes—cold and clear, yet holding a hint of amusement. Slender, slightly arched eyebrows framed eyes as exquisitely crafted as if sculpted by the gods themselves. His nose was high and straight, his entire face nearly flawless, devoid of any imperfection.

The warm, bright sunlight filtered through the window like a thin veil, casting him in an ethereal glow, making him appear even more sacred and aloof, like a distant, unattainable celestial body.

The office window was open, revealing the burst of spring outside: newly green grass, budding flowers, and a gentle breeze that drifted in, caressing his face and stirring something deep within his heart. An indescribable emotion began to sprout and grow in the depths of his soul.

Pei Ji froze for a moment, stunned. It was the first time in his life he had ever seen someone so breathtakingly beautiful.

Not the soft, alluring kind of beauty, but a cold, proud beauty, like the bright moon in the heavens—distant yet utterly captivating.

“Tinghan,” Teacher Zheng said, “this is Pei Ji, the current lead singer and captain of Dreamcatcher. He’s also that exceptionally talented student I’ve often mentioned to you.”

“Little Pei, this is your direct senior, Chu Tinghan. He founded Dreamcatcher, and all the songs you heard when you first joined the band were written by him. I remember you used to praise them so much, saying how brilliant they were and how much you loved them…”

Professor Zheng calmly introduced them, but Pei Ji heard none of it.

At that moment, all he could hear was his own heart pounding faster and faster.

Thump, thump, thump…

In romance dramas, when destined lovers meet, a beautiful melody always plays to signal the protagonists’ racing hearts.

Though Pei Ji didn’t hear any soaring music, he felt the arrival of that rhythmic pulse, each beat clearer and more intense than the last, playing a joyful, giddy melody.

After a long moment, he finally composed himself, suppressing his burgeoning excitement and shy embarrassment. He pursed his lips and said, “Hello, Senior Chu.”

This was Chu Tinghan’s second time seeing him. He was somewhat surprised by the young man’s outfit, which blended maturity with a hint of boyishness. On stage, Pei Ji had been rebellious and flamboyant, leading Chu Tinghan to assume he’d be the cool, aloof type in real life. Instead, he found a clean-cut, refreshing, model student.

His voice, poised between boyishness and manhood, brushed across Chu Tinghan like a feather, leaving him inexplicably restless.

The stark contrast between Pei Ji’s stage presence and his current demeanor only piqued Chu Tinghan’s interest further, his gaze fixed squarely on the younger man.

Professor Zheng, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between the two, turned to Pei Ji. “Little Pei, didn’t you say you had some questions for your senior? I brought him here. Ask away.”

Pei Ji felt the intense heat of Chu Tinghan’s gaze burning into him, making him self-conscious. He lowered his eyes, avoiding the other man’s stare, and hesitated before taking a half-step forward.

Until this moment, he had always dismissed love at first sight as a shallow lie rooted in lust. Only when his own heart began to pound for another did he understand that genuine instant connection could exist.

Perhaps Flutter had captured this very feeling—the deep, hidden heartbeat fluttering like a butterfly’s wings in spring, its subtle tremors hinting at profound change.

The question that had plagued him for so long suddenly dissolved like morning mist. Pei Ji looked up, the corners of his lips curling into a smile, and blurted out, “Never mind. I don’t have any questions anymore.”

He hastily bid farewell and retreated from the office, fleeing as much as running.

Lü Yi, who had been eavesdropping at the door, was caught completely off guard when Pei Ji emerged, his face beaming with joy and his eyes sparkling like stars. Stunned, Lü Yi trailed after him.

“Wait, how did you come out so quickly?!”

Pei Ji’s eyes, brimming with amusement, murmured to himself, “I understand now… I finally get it…”

Seeing the man before him radiating the joy of a father who had finally had a child in his old age, Lü Yi was completely baffled. “What the hell do you ‘get’? What do you understand?!”

Only when they were eighty feet from the office did Pei Ji stop. “Flutter… I know what that feeling is now.”

“……?” Lü Yi stared at him as if he were a lunatic.

This is terrifying. Has he gone completely mad?

Ignoring him as if he weren’t there, Pei Ji raced back to the practice room.

The moment he pressed the first piano key, he felt like he was immersed in a sea of flowers, drowning in a tidal wave of nectar-sweet tenderness.

A love song… I think I can finally sing one now.

“Are you in love?”

Pei Ji nearly flipped the piano in shock. He awkwardly pressed a fist to his lips, cleared his throat, and finally stammered, “N-no, I’m not.”

Lü Yi, still savoring the aftertaste of the love song, hissed in admiration. “So, seeing Senior is this effective?”

Though it was still the same singer, the impact was utterly different.

The previous version had sounded like forced labor, but this one felt like a genuine outpouring of emotion.

Is this the gap between a genius and an ordinary person? Lü Yi wondered. Someone like Pei Ji grasps things instantly.

That evening, over half the club members turned out, all eager to hear Pei Ji sing love songs.

After his performance, the practice room erupted in thunderous applause. Everyone praised his singing to the skies.

He had poured every ounce of emotion and skill into his performance, perfectly capturing the feeling of being struck by love at first sight.

At that point, Lü Yi assumed the connection between Dreamcatcher and Senior Chu had reached its end. But he never imagined things would develop in the exact opposite direction.

Thanks to a certain someone, Chu Tinghan had permeated every aspect of his life, especially his playlists.

God knows what devilry possessed their esteemed Club President, but he’d replaced all the trending online songs in the sound system with Chu Tinghan’s singles from throughout his career.

It was hard to imagine that, under someone’s influence, he now even knew Chu Tinghan’s obscure songs from his early years by heart, and could recite his recent hits backwards.

“Hey, be honest with me, bro. Do you have a thing for him?” Lü Yi finally couldn’t hold back the question he’d been itching to ask.

Pei Ji stood in front of the full-length mirror, meticulously adjusting his hair strand by strand. “Who?” he asked nonchalantly.

“You know, our Senior.”

As soon as he said it, Pei Ji awkwardly moved to the other side of the dorm, deliberately putting distance between them. He lowered his gaze and began fussing with his shirt sleeves. “No way. Stop making stuff up.”

Since waking up, Lü Yi had already seen Pei Ji fidget with his sleeves at least eight hundred times, practically wearing his nervousness on his face.

Strange. Is this old iron tree finally about to bloom?

Just as Lü Yi was about to press further, Pei Ji snatched a music score and slapped it over his mouth, physically silencing him. “Enough with the questions! Let’s get going or we’ll be late. Missing a performance means paying a penalty.”

Hearing about the penalty, Lü Yi immediately lost his gossip-fueled enthusiasm. He sprinted out faster than Pei Ji, already having hailed a cab by the time they left the dorm.

The performance went even better than expected. Pei Ji’s voice was beautifully captivating, drawing passersby to stop and listen. By the midpoint of the show, the stage was surrounded by a packed crowd.

As flower petals rained down from the sky, Dreamcatcher successfully completed their first commercial performance.

The first thing Pei Ji did after stepping off the stage was find the photographer and review the performance footage.

He gave the photographer a friendly smile. “Could you send me a copy?”

Without a second thought, the photographer added Pei Ji as a friend and sent him the video.

“Don’t tell me the Vice Dean’s roped you into editing videos again,” Lü Yi suddenly popped up, squinting suspiciously. “Our commercial performance footage shouldn’t be used for the academy’s promotional materials, right? You’re hiding something…”

“Spill it! Who are you planning to send it to? Tell me the truth!”

Pei Ji didn’t even look up. “Teacher Zheng,” he replied casually. “He’s been guiding me with my vocals. I want to send it to him for feedback, see if there’s anything I can improve.”

Only after saving the video file did he finally look up, arching an eyebrow in a teasing retort. “Who did you think it was?”

A row of ellipses floated over Lü Yi’s head, his disappointment palpable. “…Never mind. Boring.”

He had assumed Pei Ji was sending it to that senior, but Pei Ji’s demeanor was too transparent for him to suspect any hidden motives.

Watching Lü Yi stalk off with a sour expression, Pei Ji chuckled softly and promptly forwarded the video to Senior Chu.

He wasn’t sure why he wanted to send it, or what he’d say, but he felt an inexplicable urge to share the video with Chu Tinghan.

After a few seconds, Pei Ji realized that sending the video alone might seem odd, even a bit dry.

So, what should I say?

Thank you for your guidance, Senior. I’ve finally learned how to sing love songs.

No, this one-sided infatuation can’t be considered “guidance,” and the line sounds too formal anyway.

Pei Ji deleted the line and started over.

Dreamcatcher’s first commercial performance—thought you might like to see it.

…Like emotionless business partners running the same company.

The petals they used onstage were actually real! Senior, do you use real petals for stage effects during your concerts too?

…Like a flower shop owner desperately pushing petals when rose sales are down.

I never imagined so many people would show up for our first commercial performance!

…Meaningless drivel.

After much deliberation, Pei Ji decided to take the most direct approach: ask for Chu Tinghan’s feedback and request some pointers.

What had Chu Tinghan replied back then?

The memory abruptly halted. A faint, desolate voice echoed in his mind, overlapping with his recollection.

Pretty good.

It’s pretty good that you left me…

Chu Tinghan clung to Pei Ji’s neck, his consciousness blurring as he murmured, “You were the one who started this… What right do you have to let go…?”

His words sounded like an accusation, a plea, and a reproach all at once.

Chu Tinghan’s warm breath, tinged with the faint scent of alcohol, brushed against Pei Ji’s neck. The close proximity, the ambiguous atmosphere, and the other man’s limp weight pressing against him made Pei Ji’s head swim.

Every place Chu Tinghan had touched burned with a tingling numbness, like an electric shock.

Pei Ji froze, rooted to the spot like a wooden post, his hands repeatedly lifting and falling. He couldn’t decide whether to embrace Chu Tinghan or not, and finally left his arms suspended in mid-air, his forearms supporting Chu Tinghan’s nearly collapsed back. He listened silently to Chu Tinghan’s “accusations.”

Chu Tinghan’s voice grew weaker and weaker. Pei Ji could only faintly hear the final words:

“You’re just like them… an irresponsible person.”

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed through Pei Ji’s heart. His suspended hands finally found their place, gently stroking Chu Tinghan’s back in a careful attempt to soothe him. He didn’t know what to say.

The memory cut off abruptly, incomplete.

Pei Ji began to suspect that he hadn’t transmigrated at all, but had simply lost his memories.

The charismatic band leader had been him. The junior harboring a crush had been him. The idol whose career collapsed after scandal had been him. The gold-digging, freeloading scumbag had also been him.

Past and present were the same body, the same soul.

So he was the one who had pursued Chu Tinghan first, only to cruelly abandon him later, right?