After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“Master, where are we headed?” Pei Ji asked, his mind still foggy from getting into the car. He’d forgotten to ask the destination earlier, only remembering after they’d been driving for over ten minutes.

The driver glanced at his phone’s navigation with a sidelong glance and announced the address with precise accuracy.

The place sounded vaguely familiar to Pei Ji, as if he’d been there before.

After a moment’s thought, he finally recalled where it was: Chu Tinghan’s house.

Pei Ji recalled Chu Tinghan’s indifferent demeanor and brooding profile, and his palms began to sweat involuntarily.

Is it too late to jump out of the car now?

Having just offended Chu Tinghan, he certainly didn’t dare go to his door to die.

But he had no say in the matter. The driver, under Chu Tinghan’s orders, refused to let Pei Ji out of the car.

Half an hour later, Pei Ji stood before Chu Tinghan’s house, utterly despondent.

He’d left just a few days ago, yet here he was, back again so soon.

With a grave expression, he approached the door step by step, like a condemned man walking to the guillotine.

Before he even reached the entrance, the door swung open automatically.

Aunt Zhang, as if expecting his arrival, stood waiting at the threshold, greeting him with a warm smile, “Little Pei, you’re back.”

Pei Ji forced a stiff, awkward smile and nodded politely to Aunt Zhang.

Aunt Zhang glanced at Director Chu’s gloomy figure inside and Pei Ji’s strained smile, as if sensing something amiss. Lowering her voice, she said to Pei Ji, “Little Pei, couples argue all the time. What starts at the head of the bed ends up reconciled by the foot.”

Pei Ji paused, his smile twisting into something even more unnatural.

He had no desire to engage in any bedroom-related activities with Chu Tinghan right now.

“Aunt Zhang… we’re not married.”

Aunt Zhang was taken aback. “Ah? This… Could you be having a tiff?”

Pei Ji considered this. “I suppose you could call it that,” he finally replied with a nod, offering no further explanation.

As an outsider, Aunt Zhang didn’t pry into their relationship. She simply said, “Director Chu has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Don’t take his words to heart.”

A sharp tongue but a soft heart?

Pei Ji pondered Chu Tinghan’s recent actions. The description seemed both apt and yet somehow… off.

When he received that bouquet of flowers labeled “Let’s part on good terms” upon leaving the hospital, he had naively believed Chu Tinghan to be a gentle and magnanimous patron.

But now, this moody, unpredictable man before him showed no trace of the “gentle” or “magnanimous” qualities he had imagined.

Pei Ji shrugged helplessly. Maybe all sugar daddies have such fragile tempers, he thought. One wrong word and they kick you out.

At least Chu Tinghan didn’t just dump me on the side of the road in this rain, he thought, I can tolerate it for now.

Chu Tinghan stood with his back to him, silent as if waiting for Pei Ji to yield first.

Pei Ji wasn’t one for putting on airs. He didn’t care who backed down first—as long as they could resolve the issue, he’d do whatever it took.

He took a step forward, about to coax his temperamental patron, Chu Tinghan, with some soothing words, when Chu Tinghan spoke first.

“I’m sorry,” Chu Tinghan said, his voice low and tinged with melancholy. “My attitude earlier was poor.”

Pei Ji froze for a moment, surprised that the mighty Director Chu would humble himself. After a beat, he replied, “It’s nothing. I don’t mind.”

Hearing this, Chu Tinghan finally turned to face him, his head bowed, his features obscured by strands of dark hair. Pei Ji couldn’t read his expression.

“Do you really not want to marry me?” Chu Tinghan asked.

“No,” Pei Ji answered.

“Then what did you mean by mentioning divorce in the car earlier?”

Perhaps it was his imagination, but Pei Ji thought Chu Tinghan looked incredibly fragile right now, each word seeming to drain the last of his strength.

Seeing Chu Tinghan’s vulnerability, Pei Ji’s tone softened unconsciously.

He explained gently, “It was just a hypothetical scenario. It doesn’t mean we’ll actually separate in the future.”

“I don’t like hypotheticals like that,” Chu Tinghan said flatly.

Pei Ji chuckled, suddenly realizing that Chu Tinghan wasn’t acting like a demanding sugar daddy at all, but more like a childish brat.

Hearing the laughter, Chu Tinghan lifted his gaze, genuinely puzzled. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.”

Pei Ji raised an eyebrow, took a few steps closer, and bent down to look intently into Chu Tinghan’s eyes, as if seeking his approval. “If you don’t like it, I won’t mention it again. Okay?”

At these words, Chu Tinghan’s mood finally brightened. “So… we’re still getting married?” he asked.

Pei Ji straightened up. He wanted to say, “Whatever you want,” but such a response would sound indifferent and risk causing another misunderstanding.

Instead, he smiled faintly. “It’s all up to you.”

Just then, a sudden surge of brute force yanked his arm. Chu Tinghan had gripped his right arm tightly, pulling him toward the door.

Pei Ji stumbled, barely keeping his balance. “Wh-where are we going?”

Chu Tinghan dragged him along without a word, shoved him into the car, and only after slamming the door shut did he turn, a delighted expression spreading across his face. “Let’s get married.”

Pei Ji glanced sideways at the faint smile playing on Chu Tinghan’s lips, and a chill ran down his spine.

How can he change his mood so quickly?

Wasn’t he just looking so dejected moments ago? How can he be so happy so easily?

Taking advantage of Chu Tinghan’s distraction, Pei Ji couldn’t resist discreetly pulling out his phone to search for information about him online, especially regarding his personality.

The results largely matched what he had learned from Kong Chuan: aloof, cold-hearted, as if he never showed kindness to anyone. In recent years, Chu Tinghan had frequently been accused of being a diva due to his impassive demeanor.

However, these negative publicity articles seemed to have little impact on him. It was as if everyone had grown accustomed to his icy arrogance, and with his current status, few dared to provoke him.

After skimming through a few articles, Pei Ji turned off his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

To summarize what he had just learned: Chu Tinghan’s public persona was that of an “Ice-Cold Song God”—a singer as icy and aloof as frost.

Yet the man beside him now, with his subtly upturned lips and mercurial moods, made the term “ice-cold” utterly laughable.

Could it be that the “Ice-Cold Song God” is just a facade Chu Tinghan puts on for the entertainment industry?

And in reality, he’s a volatile, demanding, and domineering CEO?

Not only that, but he also seemed to be a CEO with a bit of a love-struck mind.

At this realization, Pei Ji couldn’t help but feel a surge of respect for his past self, while simultaneously sweating for his future self.

His instincts told him that his current self, still mentally an eighteen-year-old, might be no match for this old fox who had clawed his way through the social jungle for years.

At that moment, he desperately wanted to consult his past self, to ask how he had managed to make Chu Tinghan love him so madly, so obsessively.

Having ended up with a somewhat difficult but love-struck sugar daddy, Pei Ji didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Put these on.”

Pei Ji’s hand suddenly grew heavy, the unexpected weight snapping him out of his thoughts.

He looked down and saw a fisherman’s hat and sunglasses.

“And this too.” Chu Tinghan tossed him a face mask with brisk efficiency.

Pei Ji blinked, puzzled.

Chu Tinghan, in a rare moment of explanation, said, “I don’t want to be photographed.”

Pei Ji nodded and, following instructions, covered his entire face thoroughly.

As he put them on, he casually blurted out without thinking, “Why don’t you want to be photographed?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized how inappropriate they were, but it was too late to retract them.

Pei Ji closed his eyes in despair and began to mourn for himself.

Chu Tinghan didn’t object much this time, merely turning to give him a thoughtful look before asking, “Do you want to be photographed?”

Pei Ji pondered for a long moment before truthfully replying, “No.”

Chu Tinghan’s gaze suddenly turned icy, but it quickly returned to normal. He faced forward again, his voice cold and firm, “I just can’t be bothered dealing with endless media and reporters.”

The entertainment industry had been unusually quiet recently, with no major news breaking. The media outlets were ravenous for content. A top-tier celebrity like Chu Tinghan, who naturally drew paparazzi like moths to a flame, would undoubtedly dominate the trending topics for weeks if his marriage registration were exposed.

The feeling of being constantly surveilled made him intensely uncomfortable.

But even more than the trending topics, Chu Tinghan loathed the swarm of media and the cameras practically shoved in his face. The incessant flashes of shutters and the barrage of identical questions left him with a splitting headache. A man who couldn’t even be bothered to attend dinner parties certainly had no patience for journalists’ interrogations.

Pei Ji shared his sentiments, equally unwilling to let this disrupt their normal lives.

He pulled out his phone to use as a mirror, adjusted his mask slightly higher, and only lowered it with satisfaction once his entire face was completely concealed.

Before long, they arrived smoothly at the Civil Affairs Bureau.

On a weekday, few couples came to register their marriage. Guided by the staff, they obtained their marriage certificate in no time.

When Pei Ji received the small red booklet, he felt momentarily disoriented, unable to distinguish between reality and a dream.

Just a few days ago, he had walked out of the college entrance exam hall, and now he was already standing in the Civil Affairs Bureau, marrying his future benefactor.

The surrealness was on par with a horror film.

A newlywed couple passed by, their faces beaming with happiness as they clutched their marriage certificates like precious treasures.

Pei Ji, on the other hand, barely dared touch the certificate, gripping only a corner of the crimson cover. To him, this symbol of harmonious and fulfilling happiness felt like a hot potato.

He had been the one who insisted on taking responsibility and making a good life with Chu Tinghan. Yet, now that the marriage certificate was in hand, he was the one trembling with anxiety.

After calming down for a moment, Pei Ji diagnosed himself with post-marital anxiety.

The deed is done, he thought. Regretting it now would only be melodramatic.

He glanced sideways, subtly observing Chu Tinghan’s reaction.

He had expected Chu Tinghan to be even more flustered than himself, but instead, Chu Tinghan appeared utterly composed, carefully putting away the marriage certificate with a barely perceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips.

If even the “victim” of marrying a jerk could be this happy, then the “perpetrator” had no reason to feel anxious.

Pei Ji suddenly felt much better.

Still, to be safe, there were a few things he needed to clarify with Chu Tinghan.

Pei Ji spoke softly, “Chu Tinghan—”

The moment he called Chu Tinghan’s name, Chu Tinghan immediately looked up, his eyes sparkling with faint amusement. When their gazes met, Pei Ji was momentarily dazzled by that radiant smile, his mind going blank.

Chu Tinghan suppressed his smile slightly and asked, “What is it?”

Perhaps because he was in such a good mood after getting their marriage certificate, Chu Tinghan’s voice actually carried a hint of warmth.

Recovering his composure, Pei Ji continued, “The things I did in the past might not have been very reliable, and I probably wronged you quite a bit, but I’ve changed.”

Chu Tinghan stared at him intently.

For some reason, Pei Ji thought he detected a faint flicker of anticipation in Chu Tinghan’s otherwise cool gaze.

He wanted to say, “I’ll do my best to make you happy,” but the words caught in his throat.

The word “happiness” felt neither grand nor trivial. Pei Ji wasn’t sure if what he could offer in the future would meet Chu Tinghan’s unspoken standards.

So he rephrased, saying slowly, “From now on, I will take full responsibility for you. I will treat you well.”

At the end, he pressed his lips together, lowered his gaze to the floor for a moment, then cautiously lifted his eyes to steal a glance at Chu Tinghan, asking softly, “Can you trust me?”

Chu Tinghan froze, his usually icy face seeming to thaw slightly.

When Chu Tinghan didn’t reply immediately, Pei Ji felt his confidence waver. He took another half-step forward. “Can you?”

Chu Tinghan’s eyelashes fluttered. He lowered his head, suppressing the corners of his lips that threatened to curl upward, and after a long pause, he replied lightly, “I’ll see how you do.”

Neither an outright yes nor a clear no.

Unsatisfied with the ambiguous response, Pei Ji felt a mix of frustration and reluctance to press further.

By the time he snapped out of his thoughts, Chu Tinghan had already walked away.

Watching his elegant retreating figure, Pei Ji thought dejectedly, He probably still doesn’t trust me, which is why he wouldn’t give a straight answer.

But no matter, who told him to be such a world-class scumbag, causing a life to be lost?

If he were Chu Tinghan, he wouldn’t believe it either.

Pei Ji hurried to catch up, walking behind Chu Tinghan.

Just as he closed the distance, Chu Tinghan suddenly spoke, “Move back in.”

“What?”

Chu Tinghan stopped, waiting for Pei Ji to reach his side. Once they made eye contact, he said with utmost seriousness, “Now that we’re married, shouldn’t we live together?”

Before Pei Ji could answer, Chu Tinghan narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him. “Or… do you only want to maintain a facade of a married couple?”

The question sounded less like a genuine inquiry and more like an answer to his previous question: he didn’t believe him.

“Of course not!” Pei Ji blurted out.

His brows furrowed slightly, his anxious emotions betraying themselves despite his attempts to conceal them.

“Oh—” Chu Tinghan couldn’t help but chuckle softly, looking utterly at ease. “So, that means you’ll move back in?”

Pei Ji blinked, bewildered.

That’s what it sounds like… but something feels off.

That familiar sense of being tricked resurfaced inexplicably in his mind.