After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 42

Chapter 42

When Chu Tinghan swept Pei Ji away, Pei Ji thought Chu Tinghan had lost his mind. Had he forgotten this was a rehearsal venue, teeming with prying eyes? If they were recognized, the consequences would be disastrous.

Chu Tinghan remained silent the entire time, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. His eyes held no warmth, radiating palpable displeasure.

Puzzled, Pei Ji hesitantly settled into the passenger seat.

In the next instant, Chu Tinghan slammed the door shut with a bang, the entire car shuddering from the force.

Pei Ji froze, baffled. Who had angered him this time? Where was all this rage coming from?

Staring at Chu Tinghan’s stern profile, Pei Ji cautiously ventured, “Are you… are you in a bad mood? Did someone upset you? Or is work just not going well?”

Chu Tinghan didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he drove in silence. It wasn’t until the nth red light that he finally gritted his teeth and spoke his first words.

“Which big shot is backing you?” Chu Tinghan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, his voice icy and tinged with irritation.

Pei Ji frowned slightly, taken aback. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Pei Ji desperately hoped Chu Tinghan would offer more clues, but Director Chu was as tight-lipped as gold, unwilling to utter a single unnecessary word.

What’s going on?

It couldn’t be that he suddenly remembered I’m a渣男 and wants to grill me about whether I’ve been seeing other presidents—President Zhang, President Wang, President Zhao—or if I’ve been secretly cozying up to other wealthy backers behind his back, right?

Pei Ji’s head swam with anxiety. After racking his brains for ages, he finally recalled that the term “big shot” sounded familiar. Isn’t that the topic everyone was discussing in the comments section under the Leaked Video?

Because of his expensive wireless microphone, netizens had been wildly speculating about which “big shot” was backing him. They had practically guessed every agency in the entertainment industry—except for Chu Tinghan’s name.

What exactly did that comment say again?

First, rule out Chu Tinghan Studio. Before that outdoor variety show, they looked like they had absolutely no connection whatsoever.

Pei Ji belatedly realized: So even the Song God himself descends to the mortal realm to browse the comments section.

“Hmm?” Chu Tinghan, noticing Pei Ji’s continued silence, glanced at him sideways and couldn’t resist asking again, “Tianfu Media? Huazhang Films? Or Fan Jin Entertainment?”

Pei Ji was stunned.

The company Chu Tinghan mentioned was exactly what the comment section had guessed. So he really was reading the comments? Could he be secretly sulking over those baseless rumors?

Pei Ji found this inexplicably amusing. He cleared his throat to suppress his rising grin and said with feigned seriousness, “None of those.”

Then he let out a hiss, stroking his chin thoughtfully, and said with mock exasperation, “What was the name of my big shot backer again?”

At this, he glanced at Chu Tinghan, adding pointedly, “Oh, right—wasn’t it some particularly amazing and utterly worship-worthy Big Song God?”

Chu Tinghan cleared his throat a few times, his expression remaining aloof as he continued driving.

Pei Ji was genuinely impressed. He refused to believe Chu Tinghan hadn’t understood his meaning. The Song God’s poker face is truly legendary, he thought.

Another red light ahead. Seizing the moment, Pei Ji leaned closer. “Hey, do you happen to know his name?”

Chu Tinghan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he replied tersely, “What was it?”

Pei Ji said with mock solemnity, “I think it was something like Chu Tinghan.”

Hearing this, Chu Tinghan could no longer suppress his smile. Even his eyes curved with amusement.

As expected, Pei Ji was somewhat surprised to realize that Chu Tinghan had publicly taken him away to create a scandal.

Next time netizens speculated about which big shot was backing him, Chu Tinghan’s name would undoubtedly be the first to surface.

Who would have thought? The mighty Director Chu actually harbored such petty schemes.

As they arrived home, they happened to meet Aunt Zhang on her way out. She explained that they were out of vinegar and she was going to buy some.

“No need to buy any. We have vinegar here,” Pei Ji suddenly called out, stopping her. Staring at Chu Tinghan’s retreating figure, he raised his voice slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “A whole jar of it.”

Chu Tinghan’s body froze instantly. He tried to pretend he didn’t understand, but his face flushed crimson before he could react.

As he turned around, he met Pei Ji’s peach-blossom eyes, now curved into crescents with laughter. The man even dared to wink at him, as if courting death.

Chu Tinghan’s entire neck and ears turned scarlet. Struggling to maintain his composure, he ordered sternly, “No, we don’t. Go buy some.”

The moment Aunt Zhang left, Pei Ji burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly bending over double from the force of it.

Chu Tinghan glared at him, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, but no words came out. Finally, unable to endure it any longer, he stormed upstairs to his bedroom.

By the time Pei Ji realized what had happened and rushed after him, Chu Tinghan had already locked the door.

Pei Ji stood outside, knocking gently. “You’re not really mad, are you?” he asked anxiously.

The room remained eerily silent.

Surely not, Pei Ji thought. How can Chu Tinghan’s mood change faster than June weather? He was barely suppressing a smile in the car earlier, and now he’s sulking?

Fine, Pei Ji sighed helplessly. I made this mess, I’ll have to clean it up myself.

He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “So, uh… Destiny sent me two tickets to the premiere of the movie they’re sponsoring. Wanna come with me?”

Faint footsteps stirred inside, but Chu Tinghan remained silent, making no move to open the door.

This isn’t working. Pei Ji switched tactics, feigning disappointment. “Never mind then. I know you’re busy with work. I’ll just take Lü Yi. He’s been looking forward to this movie’s act—”

Before he could finish, the door swung open. Chu Tinghan stood there, his face expressionless, and snatched the tickets from Pei Ji’s hand without hesitation.

Across town, Lü Yi, who was hosting an event, sneezed violently without warning.

Lü Yi: Who’s badmouthing me?

The next day, Pei Ji visited Chu Tinghan’s studio again, ostensibly to treat everyone to coffee, but his real motive was to see if Chu Tinghan had calmed down.

Yesterday, he’d simply taken the tickets without saying whether he would accept them, leaving Pei Ji uncertain of Chu Tinghan’s true feelings. He decided to come and test the waters.

But to his surprise, the entire studio was deathly silent. Everyone had their heads bowed, afraid to even breathe, creating an oppressive atmosphere.

This can’t be right, Pei Ji thought. Even though Chu Tinghan’s temper fluctuates, he wouldn’t scare them this badly, would he? Besides, he didn’t seem genuinely angry yesterday.

Pei Ji stood there for a moment, pondering, when he noticed Guan Nan guarding the entrance to Chu Tinghan’s office. He approached, intending to ask what was going on.

Before he could speak, Guan Nan immediately made a “shush” gesture, signaling him to be quiet.

Seeing Guan Nan sweating nervously, Pei Ji pointed inside with his eyes, silently asking what was happening.

After a moment’s hesitation, Guan Nan leaned in close to Pei Ji’s ear and whispered in a voice only they could hear, “Director Chu’s younger brother is here.”

Pei Ji stared in astonishment. “…A younger brother?”

He had never once heard Chu Tinghan mention having a brother.

Shouldn’t a younger brother visiting his older brother be a heartwarming scene? Why does it feel like the end of the world here?

Seeing Pei Ji’s genuine ignorance, Guan Nan was equally taken aback. “You didn’t know Director Chu had a younger brother?”

Pei Ji forced an awkward smile.

It’s strange. We’ve been married for half a year, yet I’ve never met any of Chu Tinghan’s family, nor has he ever really talked about them.

Seeing Pei Ji’s expression, Guan Nan found the situation utterly bizarre. But then, considering it further, he thought, If I had such a troublesome younger brother and biased parents, I’d be desperate to avoid them too. Why would I ever mention them to anyone else?

He was about to suggest that Pei Ji leave and return later when Director Chu had finished his conversation, but suddenly, raised voices erupted from the office.

Chu Tinghan’s office was usually soundproof, so normal conversations couldn’t be heard outside. Now, however, the person inside was clearly losing patience, and the shouting threatened to lift the roof off.

“Hey, Big Brother, Director Chu, is it really that hard to recommend me to the production team? I’m not even asking for the lead role—just a supporting part to get my face out there. You have that friend, Zhou Yingjie, the Best Actor, right? He has connections everywhere. Just put in a good word for me.”

“Yeah, I admit I lack the qualifications and fame. But I’ve got you—the universally acclaimed Song God Chu Tinghan—as my big brother! Being the younger brother of the Song God, Chu Tinghan, automatically makes me half a star’s heir, right? Think how good that would sound! We could even hype up our brotherly bond—a win-win situation!”

“Chu Tinghan, everyone keeps their own resources within the family. I’m your actual brother—why won’t you help me? It’s just a few kind words, it won’t cost you anything. Stop always favoring outsiders!”

“Fine, I get it. You’ll help that pretty-boy boyfriend of yours land a role on a hit variety show to boost his profile, but you won’t…”

“…Get the hell out!” Chu Tinghan, at his breaking point, grabbed a stack of files and hurled them at the man’s face. The crisp thwack of paper against skin echoed sharply before the documents scattered across the floor, creating a chaotic mess.

Chu Hao was clearly stunned by the impact, remaining frozen for several moments before belatedly touching his stinging cheek. Chu Tinghan’s strike had been swift and brutal, like a slap that left his face burning.

“Fine!” Chu Hao snapped out of his daze, jabbing a finger at Chu Tinghan’s nose in a fit of fury. “Fine, Chu Tinghan! You’re just an ungrateful bastard. I’m done arguing with you.”

As he stormed toward the door, a sharp pain shot through his jaw. He hissed and muttered like a broken record, “How could Mom and Dad raise such a good-for-nothing son like you?”

But when he tried to move forward, he found his legs wouldn’t budge. Someone had seized his collar from behind, the tight grip choking him and cutting off his air.

In the next instant, his collar was yanked backward with such force that he couldn’t resist. He stumbled backward, slamming against the edge of the desk behind him. The blunt corner dug into his lower back, sending a wave of agony through him.

“What did you say?” Pei Ji’s dark eyes locked onto him, piercing and intense.

The voice that whispered in his ear was icy and terrifying, causing Chu Hao to tremble involuntarily.

By now, Pei Ji had closed the distance between them, his eyes radiating undisguised loathing.

Chu Hao swallowed nervously, yet recklessly persisted with his taunts: “You’re just his kept boy, his little whi—Ah!”

Pei Ji considered it beneath him to even dirty his hands on such a person. Instead, he kicked Chu Hao squarely in the knee with moderate force—enough to shut him up without causing serious injury.

Pei Ji prided himself on his composure and generally mild temper, rarely resorting to physical violence. He believed that fighting was detrimental and preferred peaceful resolutions whenever possible.

But this reckless fool had crossed a line by insulting the wrong person with such vile words.

A sharp pain shot through Chu Hao’s knee, nearly dropping him to the ground. A muddy footprint now marred his jeans.

Pei Ji glared down at him coldly. “Get lost. I won’t say it again.”

Chu Hao seethed inwardly, but knew better than to provoke this man further. He didn’t want to crawl away in disgrace, so he limped away reluctantly.

The office lay in disarray, littered with paper scraps Chu Tinghan had thrown. Pei Ji stepped inside, gathering the scattered pieces one by one, neatly stacking them back on the desk.

After Chu Tinghan had calmed down and composed himself, Pei Ji leaned in, wrapping his large, well-defined hand around Chu Tinghan’s trembling one. He didn’t mention what had just happened, instead softening his voice as he asked, “I saw a new dessert shop downstairs on my way here. Would you like to join me for afternoon tea?”

What Pei Ji really wanted to say was that sweets could lift his mood, but he refrained from using the word “depressed,” which felt too blunt. Since Chu Tinghan had never mentioned his troublesome younger brother, Pei Ji assumed he preferred to keep these matters private. So, he played along, pretending ignorance.

He expected Chu Tinghan to agree, given his subtle approach, but instead, Chu Tinghan lowered his head, took a few deep breaths, and said weakly, “Maybe another time. I need some time alone to quiet my mind.”

Chu Tinghan looked utterly worn out. Pei Ji worried about his state. After a long hesitation, he squeezed Chu Tinghan’s hand and said, “Alright, I’ll wait for you at home.”

When Pei Ji went downstairs, Guan Nan accompanied him to see him off.

As the street bustled with traffic, Pei Ji stopped abruptly and asked, “How do his family treat him?”

Guan Nan’s lips twitched, facing the greatest dilemma of his life.

Should he tell the truth, or a lie?

Director Chu had always been reluctant to mention his family to Pei Ji, which made it clear he didn’t want Pei Ji involved with them.

But lying went against Guan Nan’s conscience. After a moment’s hesitation, he stammered, “They’re… just so-so, I guess.”

Seeing the complicated expression on Guan Nan’s face, Pei Ji immediately understood.

He had always assumed Chu Tinghan kept him away from his family because he felt Pei Ji wasn’t worthy or because he was too busy with work. Now it seemed more likely that Chu Tinghan simply wanted to avoid getting too entangled with them.

Pei Ji couldn’t help but turn and glance in the direction of Chu Tinghan’s office, a faint sense of unease rising in his heart.

That evening, Pei Ji waited late into the night for Chu Tinghan to come home. Recalling the director’s troublesome younger brother from earlier that day, he felt a growing sense of foreboding. He immediately called Guan Nan to ask for the address of Chu Tinghan’s parents’ house.

After much stammering and hemming and hawing, Guan Nan finally reluctantly gave him the location.

Pei Ji rushed there without delay.

If Chu Tinghan’s younger brother could act so brazenly, his parents must be supporting him behind the scenes.

He was deeply worried about Chu Tinghan’s current situation, wondering if he was enduring another round of scolding and abuse at his parents’ house.

As Pei Ji approached the villa, he could already hear the hysterical accusations inside, punctuated by the shattering of glass and porcelain.

Smashing, crashing—the cacophony never ceased.

Pei Ji knew without a doubt that the scene inside must be utter pandemonium.

But the villa’s front door was locked, preventing him from barging in. He could only peek through the windows, catching the shadows projected onto the curtains.

Chu Tinghan stood alone on one side, facing the other three figures across from him.

Pei Ji felt a sudden surge of empathy, realizing how utterly isolated and helpless Chu Tinghan must feel in that moment.

No one wants to clash with their family; everyone yearns for a harmonious, happy, and fulfilling home.

Pei Ji finally understood why Chu Tinghan’s moods were so volatile, why he had such a short temper. Growing up in such a dysfunctional family, it was a miracle he hadn’t completely lost his mind. How could he possibly have developed a gentle and easygoing temperament?

Just as Pei Ji was about to scale the wall to break in, Chu Tinghan emerged from the villa.

Chu Tinghan stood outside the door, arms crossed, facing into the room. He narrowed his eyes and said coldly, “Since you don’t think I’m worthy to be your son, get out of my house.”

Father Chu was helped outside, clutching his chest. He pointed at Chu Tinghan, stammering “You…” repeatedly without managing to form a coherent sentence.

Chu Hao fanned the flames from the side. “Brother, after Mom and Dad raised you all these years, how can you not show any gratitude?”

Chu Tinghan let out a cold laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You all know better than I do who’s been supporting this family all these years.”

“Chu Hao, I paid for your studies abroad. How dare you question me?”

Chu Hao’s face turned livid, and he fell silent.

Chu Tinghan didn’t realize Pei Ji was standing just a few meters away. When he turned and saw him, his eyes widened in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

Pei Ji’s heart churned with conflicting emotions—pity and anger intertwined. He hadn’t imagined Chu Tinghan’s family could be even worse than he’d thought. Taking two steps forward, he gripped Chu Tinghan’s hand. “I’m here to take you home.”