After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Hearing the question, the smile on Pei Ji’s face nearly crumbled, his brow furrowing slightly.

He desperately wanted to ask Liang Wangqiu what his intentions were, but the man’s high status intimidated him. He didn’t dare risk offending him, so he swallowed all his questions and forced a stiff smile. “I don’t remember anything from my childhood.”

At these words, a hint of regret flashed across Liang Wangqiu’s expression. He silently straightened his posture and ended the conversation.

Pei Ji breathed a sigh of relief, yet his doubts only grew stronger.

Could Liang Wangqiu really suspect I’m his son? he wondered. If so, why doesn’t he just get a DNA test done? Why insist on circling around these vague, confusing questions?

A paternity test would be the quickest and most accurate method, yet Pei Ji sensed that Liang Wangqiu was afraid of something.

It seemed that neither outcome—whether Pei Ji was his son or not—was what Liang Wangqiu truly wanted.

Outside the window, the scenery shifted, while inside the car, an oppressive silence hung heavy as each man was lost in his own thoughts.

Pei Ji couldn’t know what Liang Wangqiu was thinking, but from the man’s hesitant actions, he could guess that at times, Liang Wangqiu had likely not wanted to find his son at all.

Given Liang Wangqiu’s capabilities, it’s impossible he would have waited this long. He only began to act once I, his supposed biological son, stood before him.

If he were truly anxious, he would have started searching years ago, or even earlier, as soon as he learned of my disappearance twenty years ago.

But that’s not what happened.

During all the years I lived with the Pei Family, I never heard a word about my birth parents, nor did anyone ever come looking for me.

A cold weight settled in my heart as these thoughts resurfaced.

Perhaps I truly was the one who was abandoned. If Liang Wangqiu really is my father, then he must have chosen something else over me all those years ago.

Sigh… Never mind. I stopped caring about all that a long time ago anyway.

First, I was abandoned by one family, then adopted by another only to be discarded again. Later, through a twist of fate, I stumbled into Chu Tinghan’s meticulously crafted deception, creating yet another fabricated family.

Family, family, family… The word had haunted me for too long.

As a child, driven by insecurity, I desperately sought a safe harbor to cling to. That longing later evolved into a yearning for warmth and beauty.

I chased after it for so long, only to end up alone anyway. Now my pursuit seems laughably futile.

Having weathered countless storms, he had long since come to terms with things.

Family had become utterly inconsequential to him. Its absence made no difference; if it existed, it would merely be icing on the cake.

He was no longer that lonely child who needed others’ so-called care, concern, and love to feel secure.

He was perfectly content living alone.

Aside from the occasional thought of that swindler, his life was remarkably free of attachments—unfettered and carefree.

“You…”

A raspy voice snapped him out of his reverie. Pei Ji turned his head slowly, a beat late. “Yes?”

Liang Wangqiu hesitated, his expression uncertain. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

Caught off guard by this sudden question about family, Pei Ji nearly thought Liang Wangqiu could read his mind. He froze for a moment, visibly startled.

Realizing his question had been too abrupt, Liang Wangqiu coughed awkwardly and added, “Your profile lists you as married.”

Only then did Pei Ji remember that although he planned to divorce Chu Tinghan, he hadn’t updated his marital status. It still listed him as married.

Pei Ji initially wanted to say bluntly, “I’m divorced.”

But he thought better of it. After all, he hadn’t received the divorce certificate yet. So, he simply replied with a flat, emotionless, “Mm.”

“You’re stronger than me,” Liang Wangqiu murmured after a moment of silence, his voice tinged with regret and desolation. He sighed heavily before adding, “You have more resolve.”

Pei Ji was utterly bewildered.

What does that even mean?

How am I stronger than him?

Unfortunately, after those words, Liang Wangqiu lapsed into a prolonged silence, as if retreating into some isolated, shadowy realm from which he never spoke again.

Before long, the car smoothly reached its destination.

Upon exiting the car, Liang Wangqiu excused himself, claiming private matters prevented him from accompanying Pei Ji further.

Only after Liang Wangqiu had walked away did the tension in Pei Ji’s heart finally ease.

Qiao He, who had been on edge the entire journey, let out a long breath, patting his chest as if calming his nerves, and exclaimed, “Are all big-shot directors like this? The questions he was asking were so profound—luck-turning beads, marriage… and that serious expression of his! He was a completely different person from when he invited you into the car.”

Pei Ji stared absently in the direction the car had gone, lost in thought.

Noticing his lack of response, Qiao He waved his hand in front of his face. “Hey, bro? Bro, bro, bro?”

Pei Ji snapped out of his reverie. “What is it?”

Qiao He pondered aloud, “Are you close to him?”

“Not at all.”

“Huh? Then… then why was he asking you all those questions?” Qiao He’s jaw dropped.

Pei Ji hesitated, unsure how to explain the possibility that Liang Wangqiu might be his father. After a few seconds, he replied, “Maybe we knew each other before, but I’ve forgotten.”

“…Oh,” Qiao He replied, nodding slowly, his expression suggesting skepticism mixed with faint belief.

Pei Ji, eager to change the subject, stepped further into the room, smoothly shifting the topic. “Let’s go in. We don’t want to be late.”

At this, the clouds of worry instantly vanished from Qiao He’s face, replaced by renewed energy. “Right, right, right! We absolutely can’t give anyone a chance to use your tardiness as an excuse to slander you!”

Most of the attendees had already arrived at the celebration banquet. Pei Ji took his assigned seat.

As Pei Ji’s assistant, Qiao He hadn’t been assigned a seat by the Program Group. He pointed toward the exit, feigning departure. “I’ll just wait outside for you, Brother. Call me if you need anything.”

With that, Qiao He ducked low and slipped out.

Pei Ji watched him dart nimbly to the exit, only to dawdle back moments later, a slightly ingratiating smile plastered on his face.

Qiao He grinned foolishly, as if his IQ had suddenly dropped.

Pei Ji instinctively leaned back a little. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

Did he accidentally hit his head on the way out and knock himself silly? No way.

Qiao He stared at the dazzling array of food on the table, swallowing involuntarily. He tentatively pointed at the cake. “Um… I didn’t have breakfast this morning. Could I have a piece of cake? Just a small one, please.”

Pei Ji: “……”

He’d thought something serious had happened, but it turned out Qiao He had simply been bewitched by the cake.

When Pei Ji remained silent, Qiao He assumed he was being refused. The light in his eyes dimmed, and he turned to slink away.

But just as he pivoted, Pei Ji nudged his back with an elbow. “Hey, where are you running off to? Don’t you want the cake?”

Qiao He glanced at the cake, then at Pei Ji, stars twinkling in his eyes. Feigning restraint, he rubbed his hands together like a fly. “Isn’t this… improper? It wasn’t meant for me. I should probably pass.”

Though his words conveyed refusal, his hands were already hovering over the cake plate, his mouth forming the word thank you, and his grin stretched to the horizon. “Aiya, well then… th-thank…”

Pei Ji chuckled, arching an amused eyebrow. How could he be such a drama queen?

Pei Ji was about to hand Qiao He the cake when, in the blink of an eye, the delight in Qiao He’s eyes transformed into stark terror. As if jolted by an electric shock, he shoved the cake back immediately. “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass. I suddenly remembered I have high blood sugar.”

“Huh?” Pei Ji couldn’t quite grasp the sudden shift.

One moment it’s a sweet, delicious cake, and the next it’s a ticking time bomb?

Though Qiao He was still swallowing hard, he actually took a step back, as if desperate to distance himself by a thousand miles. His peripheral vision kept darting toward another direction, glancing over and then recoiling as if burned. He practically had “terrified” written across his face.

What’s going on?

Is someone holding a knife to his throat over there?

Perplexed, Pei Ji followed Qiao He’s gaze and unexpectedly met a face as dark as the bottom of a wok.

Chu Tinghan stood nearby, his icy glare sweeping straight toward them. His expression was rigid, radiating a bone-chilling coldness, and a palpable aura of icy menace emanated from him.

Qiao He felt as if Chu Tinghan’s gaze could pierce right through him. Desperate to save himself, he flashed an awkward smile that was worse than a grimace.

Pei Ji: “……”

Back in the day, Chu Tinghan would have insisted he fire his assistant the moment they got home. Better yet, the assistant shouldn’t be human at all. He’d demand Pei Ji find a robot—no, wait, maybe not even something vaguely humanoid.

But now that they were getting divorced, Chu Tinghan no longer had the chance to pester him with his absurd demands.

Of course, even if he tried, Pei Ji would no longer indulge in his childish games like some lovesick fool.

Love truly makes you stupid, he thought. Divorce is so much better.

Pei Ji retracted his gaze and calmly extended the cake toward Qiao He. “Take it.”

Qiao He clenched his hand into a fist and shook it vigorously, faster than a fan.

If I eat this cake today, Chu Tinghan will probably devour me whole.

Qiao He valued his life too much to court disaster. Before Pei Ji could react, he spun around and fled the scene without a backward glance, disappearing in a flash.

After witnessing Qiao He vanish into thin air in mere seconds, Pei Ji was momentarily speechless.

Is he really that terrifying? Why did he bolt like he was running for his life?

Anyone who didn’t know Chu Tinghan would think he was a demon escaped from hell…

Pei Ji acted as if the man didn’t exist, maintaining a composed demeanor as he socialized with newly seated colleagues.

The celebration banquet was painfully dull, consisting mostly of mutual flattery and obligatory toasts.

When the CEO across from him, already tipsy, began droning on about his grandiose business schemes again, Pei Ji couldn’t bear it any longer. He pulled out his phone to check the time and estimate how much longer he’d have to endure this.

As soon as he lit up the screen, a flood of unread messages instantly flooded the display.

Some were from An Zhu and Qiao He, while others were from Jiang Xuehua.

All three were contacting him simultaneously, likely because some work crisis had erupted.

Pei Ji remembered seeing Qiao He sneak in earlier to freeload. He glanced up to see if he was still around.

The moment he raised his gaze, he felt several glaring stares fix on him.

When their gazes met his, the heads dipped back down in unison.

Pei Ji’s heart sank. This doesn’t bode well… Could another major incident be brewing?

He ducked his head to text Qiao He, asking where he was.

A reply came instantly.

Qiao He: By the door.

Pei Ji glanced toward the entrance. Qiao He was indeed standing there, waving anxiously for him to come over.

Pei Ji immediately understood his body language and strode across the hall toward him.

The two walked to a secluded corner of the corridor. Only after confirming they were alone did Qiao He dare to speak.

Leaning in close, he lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper: “Bro, have you checked the trending topics?”

Although the celebration banquet wasn’t as formal as a press conference, it was still a major public event. Pei Ji wouldn’t dare openly goof off with his phone under everyone’s watchful eyes.

Pei Ji cut to the chase: “No, what’s up? Just tell me.”

Qiao He pursed his lips. “Do you remember Sun Qi?”

At first, the name only sounded vaguely familiar, but Pei Ji couldn’t place him.

Qiao He grew impatient. “Ugh, Sun Qi! He’s the one who falsely accused you of bullying him back then!”

Recognition finally dawned on Pei Ji. “Oh, right, him. What about him?”

Qiao He recalled the trending search topics and slowly explained, “Just now, less than ten minutes ago, an audio recording of Sun Qi suddenly surfaced online. In the recording, he claimed the Program Group forced him to do everything he did—all to boost ratings and clear obstacles for the Prince.”

“But he didn’t name anyone specifically in the recording, and his speech was slurred, like he was drunk. Now everyone online is trying to figure out what he meant.”

As he spoke, Qiao He reopened the trending search and showed it to Pei Ji. “Look at this—everyone’s got their own theories, and some are even dragging you into it.”

Wow, who knew we’d still be getting bombshell revelations from Youth Star Factory Season 1 after two years?!

What’s Sun Qi trying to say? He cuts off the beginning and end of the recording, leaving only the middle part. Does he expect us to guess what he’s talking about?!

I think it’s pretty clear. Sun Qi barely participated in any programs. The Program Group he’s talking about must be the Youth Star Factory team. I still remember how they rigged the votes to get the Prince his debut.

Could the thing the Program Group forced him to do be related to whatever happened with Pei Ji back then?

How could it be about that incident with Pei Ji? Sun Qi had such a massive bruise on his head back then, his whole head was swollen. There’s no way he could have faked that. Pei Ji’s team is way too desperate to clear his name if they came up with such a ridiculous scheme.

First, let me defend myself: am I the only one who thinks Pei Ji was framed back then? I remember before the bullying scandal broke, everyone praised him to high heaven. The entire internet was unanimous in its praise—no negative comments whatsoever. Everyone said he was capable and had a great temper. Even his academic record that got leaked showed him to be a model student. I just can’t believe he’d do something like that.

Pei Ji was my senior by three years at Communication University. I heard rumors about him from the moment I enrolled—teachers and students alike only had praise for him. Plus, he founded Dreamcatcher, now the university’s most prestigious club.

Didn’t Sun Qi retire from the entertainment industry? Why is he still stirring up trouble? If you’re going to release a recording, release the whole thing! What’s the point of a half-minute clip?

The comments swirled around him, making Pei Ji dizzy. He stopped scrolling, deciding to let his brain rest for a while.

After a moment, he asked calmly, “Where did this recording come from?”

Qiao He shook his head. “I don’t know. All of a sudden, a bunch of marketing accounts posted it at the same time. The source is unclear.”

Just as he finished speaking, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Pei Ji immediately raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

Qiao He fell silent instantly, barely daring to breathe.

Pei Ji took a few steps forward and peered around the corner to see who was coming.

His eyes widened when he realized it was An Zhu.

He cleared his throat to get her attention.

An Zhu instinctively looked toward the sound, and when she saw Pei Ji, she ran over to him.

“I just took one day off, and now this happens!” An Zhu gasped, out of breath.

She had planned to take a newly signed artist to a film set for an audition today, but instead, a scandal from two years ago had resurfaced and was dominating public discussion.

After catching her breath, she added, “Don’t worry, President Jiang already knows about it and is probably investigating right now.”

Seeing how winded she was, Pei Ji thought he should be the one telling her not to rush.

“Brother, what are you planning to do now? What exactly does Sun Qi want? Even after retiring from the industry, he’s still stirring up trouble. Has his conscience suddenly awakened, prompting him to clear your name, or is he just trying to use your fame to make a comeback?” Qiao He asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Pei Ji pondered for a moment. “It’s likely neither.”

Sun Qi had framed him years ago for personal gain, proving he was never a good person to begin with. There was no chance he’d suddenly develop a conscience and want to clear Pei Ji’s name. A comeback was even less likely. If he’d wanted to remain in the industry, he wouldn’t have announced his retirement in the first place. Newcomers flood the entertainment scene every year, and even a slight dip in public exposure can lead to oblivion.

Neither of these paths seemed like one Sun Qi would choose.

Then why had Sun Qi suddenly released this recording? Could he really just be bored and trying to stir up trouble in the otherwise peaceful entertainment world?

After a moment’s thought, a bold idea struck Pei Ji. He turned to An Zhu, his expression grave. “Does Sun Qi have any debts, or has some major crisis occurred in his family?”

An Zhu’s expression froze for a split second before she replied, her voice confused, “What… what do you mean?”

Pei Ji clarified his thoughts and laid out his reasoning: “That audio clip was most likely leaked to a marketing account by Sun Qi himself. He’d edited it down to a vague half-minute, just enough to split public opinion down the middle. Half would side with the Program Group—or rather, Huanyu Media, the company pulling the strings behind the scenes—while the other half would support me.”

“Sun Qi is the one manipulating public sentiment. Whoever gets their hands on the full recording first will seize control and win this conflict.”

“If Huanyu Media buys it, they’ll likely spin the recording as Sun Qi rambling drunkenly, not to be taken seriously. But if we acquire it, we can release the full recording and completely clear my name.”

An Zhu roughly understood his plan. “So… we need to find him quickly and buy the recording before anyone else?” she asked uncertainly.

As soon as the words left her mouth, An Zhu was already mentally calculating the costs. But Pei Ji shook his head gravely. “No.”

An Zhu blinked in confusion, completely baffled by his intentions.

Qiao He was equally perplexed, frowning deeply as he stared at Pei Ji with worried eyes.

Their expressions were so grave, as if the world might end any second.

Pei Ji leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and said casually, “Right now, we just need to calm down and wait to see how things unfold.”

Qiao He gasped in shock, worried about his approach. “But didn’t you just say that getting the recording first was our only chance to turn things around?”

Pei Ji realized he hadn’t explained himself clearly. “Those were just Sun Qi’s assumptions about what we’d do,” he explained hastily.

Qiao He’s brain froze. “What do you mean?”

Pei Ji clicked his tongue, raised an eyebrow, and pondered how to explain it clearly. “Basically, we can’t let him pull our strings, fall into his trap, and let him manipulate us.”

Qiao He’s face clearly screamed “Completely lost.”

“In short, the fact that he suddenly released this video after two years shows he’s trying to extort us. Moreover, the recording he released now is even more damaging to Huanyu Media.”

Growing anxious again, Qiao He interrupted, “Exactly! Then shouldn’t we act quickly? If they get the recording first, we’ll never be able to turn things around!”

Qiao He bounced on the spot like an anxious rabbit, but Pei Ji pressed down on his shoulder, urging him to calm down. “It won’t come to that. The fact that they dared to release this video damaging to Huanyu Media means negotiations have broken down. They’ve burned their bridges. Right now, they’re probably more interested in shaking us down for cash.”

“Th-then we should go find them right away! Ask what their demands are!”

“They’re going to negotiate with us?” Pei Ji raised an eyebrow.

Qiao He instinctively nodded, but something about Pei Ji’s tone made him uneasy.

Sure enough, Pei Ji said, each word measured, “More likely, we’ll be negotiating with them.”

“I’ve been dragged through the mud for over two years. What’s a few more days? Just wait. They’re more desperate than we are. If we don’t come to them, they’ll find a way to come to us.”

Stammering, Qiao He blurted out another question: “B-but what if… what if they’re not desperate?”

Pei Ji had already considered that possibility. He shrugged. “Then it’ll be just like it is now. We won’t be able to clear my name. But I’m still living just fine, aren’t I?”

Hearing this, Qiao He froze, struck by the undeniable logic of Pei Ji’s words.

Pei Ji remained calm, but some others, upon hearing the news, were already losing their composure.

When Pei Ji returned to the celebratory banquet, he discovered someone had tampered with his wine glass.

Xu Wangxuan, seated at the adjacent table, was engaged in conversation with a male actor, but his expression was strained, his gaze frequently darting in Pei Ji’s direction.

Pei Ji subtly curled the corner of his lips.

No wonder Huanyu Media, Xu Wangxuan’s backers, had severed ties with Sun Qi. They’d clearly devised another strategy.

Bullying, after all, was a risky game built on flimsy accusations. To truly crush someone beyond recovery, they needed concrete evidence.

But Pei Ji lived a clean life, his character and capabilities beyond reproach. There was simply no genuine dirt to dig up.

Pei Ji lowered his gaze to the likely drugged wine, realizing this was probably a custom-made fabrication—artificial “dirt” tailored just for him.

He initially considered dumping it, but upon reflection, he realized that if this attempt failed, they’d simply try again, and again, and again, until he fell into their trap.

Too much hassle. I don’t have time for their games.

So, Pei Ji cleverly maneuvered to feign drinking the wine right under Xu Wangxuan’s nose.

Ten minutes later, he acted out the plan, pretending to feel dizzy and unwell.

The nearby staff immediately rushed to his side, helping him upstairs to his hotel room.

Pei Ji feigned unsteadiness and mental disorientation, all the while inwardly scoffing at the hackneyedness of the scheme.

Sure enough, there’d be someone lying in that room’s bed any minute now, and tomorrow he and that person would be trending on the hot search lists.

How utterly unimaginative! Why couldn’t they try a different tactic?

Pei Ji figured he’d drop the act once he reached the door. But as soon as he got there, the door swung open automatically from the inside.

Pitch-black darkness filled the room. Before he could react, someone yanked him inside.

Okay, things got a little out of hand, he thought. No problem. I can still get out of here right now.

The room was pitch-black. Even paparazzi peering through the windows wouldn’t be able to see anything.

But before he could turn around, someone pressed against him from behind.

A soft, boneless body leaned heavily against his back, the person’s head nestled against his neck, nuzzling him.

At such close proximity, Pei Ji immediately recognized the familiar scent of pine clinging to the person’s skin.

Their head was burning hot, and as it rubbed against his neck in jerky movements, their breath seared his skin like flickering flames.

Pei Ji’s entire body tensed, instinctively shrinking back. His mind short-circuited for a moment, and his first instinct was to push the person away.

Wait, why is he here?