After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Pei Ji had countless questions he wanted to ask Chu Tinghan, but the memory of those fluttering emotions, coupled with their current awkward situation—a kept man, a gigolo, and his sugar daddy—forced him to swallow the words before they could escape. Not a single syllable could form in his throat.

No matter what he asked, it wouldn’t change the undeniable truth.

Pei Ji tightened his arms slightly around Chu Tinghan’s waist, bracing himself for the inevitable accusations and recriminations.

But none came. Only the long, drawn-out sound of Chu Tinghan’s breathing, rising and falling with the night.

The man pressed against his shoulder suddenly went still, like the calm after a tempest, sending an inexplicable chill down Pei Ji’s spine.

Turning his head stiffly, Pei Ji reached out and tentatively patted the slightly arched back of the man he was holding. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, “Chu Tinghan… are you okay?”

Chu Tinghan remained motionless, his head buried in the hollow of Pei Ji’s neck, offering no response.

A faint, intermittent breath ghosted across Pei Ji’s neck, triggering an inexplicable itch. He instinctively wanted to push the man away slightly, create some distance, but before he could move, Chu Tinghan seemed to sense his intent. The arm wrapped around Pei Ji’s neck suddenly tightened, clinging like a tenacious vine that refused to yield an inch. Chu Tinghan’s head unconsciously nuzzled against Pei Ji’s neck.

Pei Ji’s mind went blank for a split second before deafening alarm bells erupted in his mind.

Shoving the man away would be heartless, but remaining pressed so close felt suffocating. His heart pounded in his chest, and his thoughts raced erratically.

This was not a good sign.

Pei Ji’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He mechanically turned his head toward Chu Tinghan, closing the distance sharply. In the dim moonlight, he could clearly see Chu Tinghan’s eyelashes glistening with a crystalline sheen, like the lingering shimmer of tears.

Chu Tinghan’s eyes were tightly closed, his brow furrowed with a faint trace of sorrow.

Pei Ji lowered his gaze for a long moment before realizing Chu Tinghan had fallen asleep.

Pei Ji tried to pry the man off him, but the arm around his neck was stubbornly unyielding.

How could he still be so strong even in his sleep?

Pei Ji couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle, shaking his head in resignation. Looks like separating them is impossible. He simply scooped Chu Tinghan up by the waist, carefully carried him to the bedroom, and gently laid him on the bed.

Perhaps deep in sleep, or perhaps numbed by alcohol, Chu Tinghan finally released his grip.

Pei Ji straightened up, twisting his neck to loosen his muscles. He glanced down at the curled-up figure on the bed. Chu Tinghan was still huddled tight, his brow furrowed deeply, lips twitching slightly, and eyelashes trembling, as if caught in a troubled dream.

Chu Tinghan’s words flashed through Pei Ji’s mind like frames from a fragmented memory reel, his thoughts tangled like an unravelable ball of yarn, growing more painful the harder he tried to sort them out.

Pei Ji stood there for a moment, an inexplicable pang of distress seizing his heart. He bent down to tuck the blanket around Chu Tinghan, about to leave and find a quiet place to gather his thoughts.

But as he turned, his wrist brushed against something icy cold. He froze, and that coldness pressed against him again, seizing his hand in a sudden, desperate grip.

“Don’t go…” Chu Tinghan murmured in his sleep, cold sweat beading on his forehead, a shadow of worry etched between his brows. His fingers clutched Pei Ji’s hand so tightly they were almost white, refusing to let go.

Pei Ji’s footsteps faltered abruptly, his legs feeling as heavy as lead, unable to take another step. His heart ached fiercely, yet he couldn’t bear to leave. He retreated and sat by Chu Tinghan’s bedside to keep watch.

His gaze drifted down to the hand Chu Tinghan clutched tightly. The skin was pinched white, the circulation nearly cut off. His arm gradually grew numb. He lifted his hand, intending to pry Chu Tinghan’s fingers loose, but at the last moment, his hand veered, gently brushing aside the sweat-dampened strands of hair clinging to Chu Tinghan’s forehead, as if to brush away the worry furrowing his brow.

After a moment, the grip on his hand suddenly relaxed. Chu Tinghan’s hand gradually slid loose, resting limply at the edge of the bed. His brow smoothed, and his expression softened into peaceful repose.

Pei Ji slowly tucked his hand back under the covers. As he leaned back in his chair, he let out a long, helpless sigh.

Ah…

He knew he was scum, but he never imagined he was this despicable.

Pei Ji had always believed Boss Chu had relentlessly pursued him first. He never imagined it was he who had fallen head over heels at first sight and then recklessly pursued Chu Tinghan.

He fell for him at first sight back in college, loved him so fiercely—how could that affection have simply faded away? And to top it off, he had cruelly discarded him with the callous words, “I’m bored of you.”

To think that such despicable behavior, the kind that would earn him universal scorn, was all his own doing—he was truly a piece of trash.

The ‘thank you’ he received now, with its starkly different tone, was unmistakable. Chu Tinghan likely knew he had amnesia from the moment he left the hospital, and her willingness to marry him probably stemmed from the hope that he could reform and turn over a new leaf.

Even after he had abandoned his husband and child with such callousness, Chu Tinghan was still willing to give him another chance, still willing to build a life with him.

He didn’t know whether to call Chu Tinghan lovestruck or himself fortunate to have found such a generous and devoted partner.

Since that was the case, he couldn’t let Chu Tinghan down again. He needed to reform, become faithful and dedicated, and strive for advancement. He couldn’t afford to remain idle, freeloading off her.

This wasn’t just for his own sake, nor merely to earn the right to see his child. It was truly for Chu Tinghan, who had loved him unconditionally and still believed in giving him another chance.

Pei Ji resolved to show Chu Tinghan through his actions that her choice was worth it, that he would never again be the washed-up idol who had left the industry in disgrace. Maintaining a relationship required mutual effort, and he was determined to provide for Chu Tinghan and prove himself worthy of her enduring affection.

The next morning, Chu Tinghan was awakened by the sunlight. Still groggy, he sat up against the headboard, taking a while to shake off his morning grumpiness.

He slowly got out of bed and was about to go wash up when he suddenly heard faint chopping sounds coming from the kitchen.

He was still wearing the clothes from the previous day, and he hadn’t told anyone where he was going, so logically, there shouldn’t have been anyone else in the room. Yet the sounds from the kitchen grew clearer, accompanied by faint footsteps, confirming that someone else was definitely in the house.

His mind still hazy from the hangover, he didn’t think much and walked straight toward the kitchen.

As the sun climbed higher, golden sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating a broad, tall figure.

Chu Tinghan’s eyes widened in shock, thinking he must be dreaming.

Why is Pei Ji here?

Chu Tinghan’s mind went blank as he stood rooted to the spot, silently watching Pei Ji’s busy figure in the kitchen for a long moment.

For some reason, this scene actually gave him the genuine feeling that they were living their lives together.

Pei Ji’s back was broad and sturdy, and his tall stature inexplicably gave Chu Tinghan a sense of security.

Chu Tinghan stared at him for a moment, suddenly seized by an overwhelming urge to hug him from behind. He took a few steps forward, but before he could close the distance, the person who had been facing away abruptly turned around, their eyes meeting unexpectedly.

Both men froze for a second.

Feeling as though his thoughts had been laid bare, Chu Tinghan awkwardly averted his gaze, rubbed his nose, cleared his throat with a few coughs, and asked casually, “What are you doing?”

Pei Ji, his hands still damp, wiped them on his apron, a gentle smile curving his lips. “You’re awake! The food isn’t quite ready yet. Why don’t you go wash up first? It should be done soon.”

Chu Tinghan remained rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed intently on Pei Ji, his thoughts unreadable.

Pei Ji frowned slightly. Was he still too drunk to understand? Or was his head still pounding?

Wherever Pei Ji moved, Chu Tinghan’s gaze followed him relentlessly. Feeling self-conscious under the unwavering stare, Pei Ji lowered the flame on the stove, stirred the noodles with chopsticks, and muttered, “Um… there wasn’t much in the house, just a few eggs left. So I made some egg noodles.”

Chu Tinghan remained silent, leaning against the wall and staring blankly at him.

Does his silence mean he wants to eat or not?

Pei Ji felt momentarily at a loss. After a moment’s thought, he added, “If you don’t want it, it’s still early enough to order takeout.” He reached for his phone.

“No need. I want it,” Chu Tinghan finally spoke, a hint of a smile hidden in his eyes.

Pei Ji paused for a beat before responding with a drawn-out “Oh,” pocketing his phone and resuming adding seasoning to the pot.

After a while, Chu Tinghan walked to the kitchen doorway and asked, “How did you end up here?”

Pei Ji shouldn’t remember this place. How had he found his way here, and why was it that he happened to run into him while he was drunk?

At this thought, Chu Tinghan’s mind froze, and a strange unease crept into his heart.

Could he have remembered something?

Did I say anything I shouldn’t have last night while I was drunk?

Due to his drunken blackout, Chu Tinghan had no recollection of the previous night’s events.

He pressed his lips together, trying to sound casual as he asked, “Did I… uh… do anything last night?”

He trailed off mid-sentence, unsure how to phrase the question without sounding suspicious. The question hung unfinished in the air, a strange, inexplicable silence.

Pei Ji was about to turn off the stove when Chu Tinghan’s question caught him off guard. His mind involuntarily flashed back to that sudden kiss, and his hand jerked, accidentally turning the burner up to high.

Flames shot up with a whoosh, growing fiercer, and the water in the pot began to boil vigorously, gurgling loudly. Flustered, he quickly turned off the stove and replied awkwardly, “No, nothing happened.”

Sensing something was off about Pei Ji’s reaction, Chu Tinghan pressed further after a moment’s thought, “Are you sure nothing happened?”

Pei Ji stared into his eyes, hesitating for a long moment before finally shaking his head.

What was he supposed to say? ‘You forced a kiss on me last night?’

Even if he dared to say it, Chu Tinghan wouldn’t believe him anyway.

So he shook his head again, pretending nothing had occurred.

The egg noodles were done. Pei Ji ladled them into a bowl and set it on the table, smoothly changing the subject. “Let’s eat before they get soggy.”

He picked at the noodles with his chopsticks, his mind still replaying those memories. Their connection had begun at Communication University, and this very apartment had once been part of the university’s faculty housing. Could it be that traces of their past lives lingered within these walls?

If this place didn’t hold special significance, Pei Ji doubted Chu Tinghan would have come here alone to drown his sorrows.

Trying to sound casual, Pei Ji asked, “Does this house have any connection to me?”

“Hmm?” Chu Tinghan looked up, puzzled. He couldn’t understand why Pei Ji was asking such a sudden question.

Pei Ji lowered his head to eat his noodles, thinking he might have sounded too deliberate. A bit embarrassed, he said, “Just curious. No big deal.”

Chu Tinghan set down his chopsticks, paused thoughtfully, and then curled his lips into a meaningful smile. “You could say it’s the place where I started to fall for you.”

Pei Ji’s hand holding the chopsticks jerked violently, snapping the noodles in half. The noodles he hadn’t swallowed yet suddenly caught in his throat, choking him speechless.

He hadn’t expected such a direct answer—it felt almost like a confession.

Should I not have asked this so early in the morning? His face burned hot.

Seeing him cough until his face turned red, Chu Tinghan quickly poured a glass of water and handed it over, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

Pei Ji waved him off between coughs, raising his arm to shield his flushed face as he did so.

His coughing was so violent that Chu Tinghan grew worried and leaned in to check on him. But before he could rise, Pei Ji suddenly grabbed his bowl and fled without warning.

Pei Ji coughed intermittently as he spoke, “Cough… I’m full. I’ll do the dishes first.”

Soon, the sound of water echoed from the kitchen.

Chu Tinghan remained concerned, fearing Pei Ji might have choked for real. He set down his chopsticks and walked over, arriving just as Pei Ji finished washing up and turned around.

The redness on Pei Ji’s face had faded slightly, but damp strands of hair clung inexplicably to his forehead, suggesting he might have splashed his face with water.

I just spoke a little plainly. How did that make him so flustered?

Pei Ji was exactly the same as he’d been in college—no, even more innocent and adorable than before.

Back then, he’d dared to stage “chance encounters” and boldly pursue Chu Tinghan. Now, all that remained was a frantic retreat.

Chu Tinghan couldn’t help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow at him as he stepped closer with amusement. “How did you know I was here?”

The kitchen was small, and the two men’s proximity made it feel even more cramped. Pei Ji retreated a few steps. “I had something to ask you yesterday. I texted, but you didn’t reply. I went to the company, but you weren’t there. Guan Nan mentioned you might be here, so I came over.”

“Something to ask me?” Chu Tinghan pondered briefly before recalling a message on his phone.

Oh right, he wanted to know how to sing love songs.

Chu Tinghan took a few more steps forward, closing the distance between them to a single breath. He asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “What did you want to talk about?”

He clearly saw the message, yet he’s pretending not to know? Pei Ji suspected Chu Tinghan was doing this deliberately, but the question was too embarrassing to voice. Without thinking, he blurted out, “Never mind.”

Chu Tinghan acted as if he hadn’t heard him. He leaned closer, his upper body pressing forward until they were so close Pei Ji could feel his breath. Pei Ji’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as his entire body tensed. He instinctively backed away, only to bump into the washbasin behind him.

Cornered, Pei Ji straightened his posture, his lips pressed into a tight line as his heart rate surged.

A rare warmth flickered in Chu Tinghan’s usually icy eyes. “Do you need me to teach you how to sing love songs?”

“It’s a pity my love songs have always been criticized,” he added, feigning a slight frown that made him look almost troubled.

Then his brow smoothed, a hint of spring in his beautiful eyes. “Or… shall we learn together?”

With their faces only inches apart, Pei Ji’s entire field of vision was filled by Chu Tinghan. The man’s smile was more dazzling than any flower, and Pei Ji could smell the faint scent of pine on him. His thoughts slowed, his mind stalled, leaving only the frantic drumming of his heart.

Though he hated to admit it, his racing heart betrayed everything. Shamefully, he had fallen for him again.