After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 60
Chapter 60
“What do you think?” Pei Ji countered softly.
Hearing this, Chu Tinghan fell silent, pretending he hadn’t asked the question.
That night, Pei Ji slept on the sofa while Chu Tinghan took the bed.
Chu Tinghan’s mind was still preoccupied with the divorce, and he barely managed to fall asleep just before dawn. When he woke up, the sofa by the bed was already empty.
Chu Tinghan paused, staring at the empty sofa and the neatly folded blanket lying on it. A sudden emptiness settled in his heart.
He left without even saying goodbye.
Chu Tinghan slowly got out of bed and changed, his spirits low as he went to wash up.
Just as he took his first step out of the room, his phone rang.
Thinking it was Pei Ji, he immediately rushed back to grab his phone. But the caller wasn’t Pei Ji—it was his manager, Wu Qian.
Chu Tinghan’s heart sank another notch. He took a deep breath and swiped right to answer the call. “Hello, Uncle Wu. Good morning. What can I do for you?”
After a few seconds of silence, Wu Qian asked in a deep voice, “What’s going on between you and Pei Ji? How did you end up in the same room with him?”
Hearing this, Chu Tinghan paused mid-pour, raised his cup, took a sip of warm water, and replied evenly, “Someone set a trap for us.”
“Who?”
Chu Tinghan considered carefully. Last night, Pei Ji had mentioned that Xu Wangxuan had deliberately orchestrated his presence here. Chu Tinghan had no quarrel with Xu Wangxuan, and even if Xu Wangxuan were daring, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to target someone of Chu Tinghan’s legendary status in the industry. Therefore, someone else must have lured him here.
Since both he and Pei Ji were in the same room, the mastermind likely intended to bring down both of them with a single scheme, suggesting a close connection to Xu Wangxuan.
If he remembered correctly, Xu Wangxuan’s manager was Liu Yang—an old nemesis from many years ago. Chu Tinghan still vividly recalled how Liu Yang had recklessly accepted endorsement deals that utterly ruined his reputation and eroded his public image. If not for Liu Yang’s disastrous actions, he wouldn’t have been forced to develop his career abroad.
What a small world, indeed.
Wu Qian, still waiting for an answer on the other end of the line, heard Chu Tinghan casually mention Liu Yang’s name.
Wu Qian sighed deeply. “Ah… it’s all my fault from back then…”
“No, how could I blame you?” Chu Tinghan interjected quickly, cutting him off. He knew perfectly well that Wu Qian had taken a half-year leave to care for his ailing mother back in his hometown—a perfectly reasonable request unrelated to those shady dealings.
If anyone was to blame, it was Liu Yang, whose greed blinded him to everything but profit.
Fortunately, Chu Tinghan had only signed a domestic management contract with his agency, leaving them no jurisdiction over his international affairs. So, after seeing through Liu Yang’s avarice early on, he had left the country to collaborate with foreign record labels, returning only after his contract expired.
All those endorsement deals for shoddy products had been signed unilaterally by Liu Yang while Chu Tinghan was overseas. With the artist unavailable, the collaborating companies could only seek compensation from Liu Yang himself.
That year, Liu Yang not only failed to profit from Chu Tinghan but also ended up paying a hefty sum in compensation.
Liu Yang harbored a deep-seated resentment toward him, constantly sabotaging him both openly and covertly. So Chu Tinghan wasn’t at all surprised by this latest incident.
“Xiao Chu, what do you plan to do now?”
Wu Qian’s sigh over the phone snapped him out of his thoughts. Chu Tinghan paused, momentarily disoriented. “Are you talking about Pei Ji or Liu Yang?”
The feud between Liu Yang and Chu Tinghan was inevitable, a matter of fate. Pei Ji, however, remained the sole enigma in Chu Tinghan’s life.
Wu Qian stated bluntly, “Of course, it’s Pei Ji.”
Chu Tinghan had no clear answer himself, responding only with silence.
Understanding his silence, Wu Qian changed the subject. “Regardless of your relationship, don’t let it disrupt the variety show filming.”
At this, Wu Qian couldn’t help but sigh. He had practically watched Chu Tinghan grow up, from his trainee days to becoming the unattainable Song God he was today. He knew better than anyone the hardships Chu Tinghan had endured. He pleaded earnestly, “Xiao Chu, after all these years, you’ve come so far. You fought tooth and nail to reclaim your future—you can’t let it be ruined again.”
Chu Tinghan remained silent for a moment before replying, “Uncle Wu, please rest assured. I know my limits.”
Even with Chu Tinghan’s promise, Wu Qian remained uneasy.
Twice now, both times consumed by love. He clearly lacks any sense of restraint, his heart utterly possessed by Pei Ji alone.
Knowing further nagging would only annoy Chu Tinghan, Wu Qian hesitated before giving a reluctant hmph.
Three days later, halfway through filming an outdoor variety show, a sudden downpour struck. The torrential rain arrived swiftly and fiercely, instantly demolishing the hastily erected set. To ensure everyone’s safety, the Program Group had no choice but to temporarily halt filming.
By unfortunate coincidence, the shoot location had been chosen in the mountains. The relentless rain left the entire area in disarray.
Pei Ji stood under shelter, watching the crew scramble to move the filming equipment. He felt compelled to help.
As he approached and helped lift a camera, he suddenly noticed someone running toward them from afar. The person looked frantic and anxious, rushing straight to the Director. “D-Director! This is bad! Something’s happened! There’s no signal in the mountains—we can’t reach Teacher Chu and the others!”
“What did you say?” Before the Director could respond, Pei Ji dropped the camera and stepped forward, his voice booming with urgency.
Seeing Pei Ji, the man suddenly remembered the official announcement that had dominated the trending topics just days before. Realizing belatedly that Pei Ji and Chu Tinghan were married, he repeated urgently, “The rain’s too heavy! Teacher Chu seems to be trapped in the mountains!”
The Director finally snapped out of his daze, struggling to maintain composure. “Have you contacted everyone in the group that went with him? No one’s answering?”
“N…no.”
When designing the game segments, the Program Group hadn’t considered the weather. For dramatic effect, they’d deliberately chosen a remote location deep in the mountains for one group’s challenge. Even on clear days, the signal there was weak, and with the torrential rain, communication was impossible.
The Director was frantic, his mind racing in a chaotic frenzy.
Pei Ji knew he couldn’t afford to panic. Forcing his mind to stay clear, he asked, “Did they have walkie-talkies? Have you tried contacting them through those?”
“Yes, we contacted them once before the rain started. They said Teacher Chu had injured his leg and they were heading back. After that, we lost contact. The walkie-talkies probably ran out of battery.”
Pei Ji stood motionless for a moment, deep in thought. Then he abruptly reached out to a nearby staff member, his expression grave. “Do you have any walkie-talkies left? Give me one.”
The Director gasped, horrified. “What are you planning to do?”
Not wanting to waste time, Pei Ji answered tersely, “I’m going to find him.”
The Director immediately stopped him. “Absolutely not! You’re an artist. We can’t risk losing another one. I’ll send someone else to look for him.”
Something in that sentence struck a nerve with Pei Ji. His expression darkened, and he gritted his teeth, each word deliberate: “He’s not lost. I’m going to find him.”
The Director stood in front of him, blocking his path. “You really can’t go! If you get lost too, how am I supposed to explain that to President Jiang?”
Pei Ji moved right, and the Director mirrored him; Pei Ji moved left, and the Director mirrored him again. The Program Group had him completely hemmed in from all sides.
“I’ll send someone to find Teacher Chu right away. Can you please wait here? I’ll notify you the moment I have any news. Our crew is all over this mountain—we’re bound to find him,” the Director pleaded, almost begging with clasped hands.
Pei Ji wasn’t willing to entrust the search to anyone else. With the last shred of his patience, he asked, “What if you can’t find him?”
The Director floundered for an answer, his mind racing for the right words to reassure him. After a long pause, he came up empty.
Seeing this, Pei Ji made to break through the crowd surrounding him without another word.
Zzzzzzz—static crackled from the walkie-talkie.
Pei Ji froze, his attention riveted to the crackling static. He strained to catch any scrap of information about Chu Tinghan, fearing he might miss a crucial detail.
After a tense ten seconds, a familiar voice finally broke through the static: “Hello, hello, can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?”
It was Guan Nan. Pei Ji immediately grabbed the walkie-talkie and asked, “Where are you now? How’s Chu Tinghan?”
The reply came immediately, though the transmission was choppy: “We’ve reached an area with signal, about a thousand meters from your location. But Director Chu’s leg is injured—a deep gash from some prop. He can barely walk now. Could you send a stretcher to carry him down?”
A stretcher?
Pei Ji scanned his surroundings. He saw only a wheelchair, no stretcher in sight. But the mountain paths were rough, uneven dirt trails, carved out by foot traffic. A wheelchair would be useless here.
While the Program Group scurried around under their umbrellas searching for a stretcher, Pei Ji seized the moment. Taking advantage of their distraction, he immediately headed deeper into the woods toward the coordinates Guan Nan had just sent.
By the time the Director realized what was happening and tried to give chase, it was already too late.
On the path, Pei Ji encountered a cameraman walking downhill, carrying his camera. The man looked familiar, as if he were specifically assigned to film Chu Tinghan. Pei Ji stopped him and asked, “Have you seen Chu Tinghan?”
The cameraman twisted his head and pointed back. “Teacher Chu hurt his leg and is walking slowly. He told us to go ahead. He’s still back there; he’ll catch up soon.”
Hearing this news, Pei Ji instantly relaxed. He continued deeper into the woods, glancing back to thank the cameraman.
More than ten minutes later, Pei Ji finally found Chu Tinghan, who had been out of contact for so long.
Chu Tinghan was leaning against a tree trunk, his brow tightly furrowed, his expression pained. Streaks of blood, washed down by the heavy rain, covered his right leg.
As soon as he looked up, he saw Pei Ji running toward him.
“What happened to your leg?” Pei Ji asked anxiously. “Does it hurt? Can you still walk?”
Chu Tinghan stared at him blankly for a moment, then parted his lips and asked in disbelief, “Didn’t I ask for a stretcher? Why are you here?”
Pei Ji crouched down to examine the wound on Chu Tinghan’s right leg. “You didn’t want me to come?”
As Pei Ji inspected the wound, Chu Tinghan leaned down to study Pei Ji’s face, his brow furrowed with concern.
He was so engrossed in his observation that he forgot to answer.
Noticing the silence, Pei Ji glanced up at Chu Tinghan. Their eyes met, jolting Chu Tinghan back to awareness. He reluctantly averted his gaze.
“What does your silence mean? Do you really not want to see me?” Pei Ji thought to himself, Has his conscience been eaten by a dog?
“No,” Chu Tinghan replied slowly. “Why did you come?”
“There’s no reason,” Pei Ji replied dryly.
He knew that if they kept talking, Chu Tinghan would bring up divorce, love, and all those tiresome questions. Pei Ji had no patience for that now. He just wanted to get him back quickly and tend to that gruesome leg wound.
Ignoring Chu Tinghan’s blatant stare, Pei Ji struggled to regain his detached tone. “Can you still walk?”
Given Chu Tinghan’s behavior at the hotel a few days prior, Pei Ji expected him to immediately say no and demand to be carried back.
But reality proved quite the opposite. The instant Pei Ji finished speaking, Chu Tinghan, gritting his teeth against the pain, forced himself forward with unsteady steps.
He limped along, his shoulders tilting unevenly with each awkward stride.
Pei Ji couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He circled around to block Chu Tinghan’s path, then bent down into a half-crouch. “Get on my back,” he offered. “I’ll carry you.”
Chu Tinghan didn’t budge. “You’ll carry me?”
“What else would I do?” Pei Ji found it amusing. Why is he still pretending to be reserved at a time like this? he wondered. He wasn’t so shy in that hotel room the other day.
“If you want to keep standing here in the rain, go ahead,” Pei Ji said, making to rise.
The next moment, a sudden weight settled on his back. Chu Tinghan had wrapped his arms around Pei Ji’s neck, his head close to his ear. “Thank you,” he murmured, still clinging to his reserved demeanor.
Pei Ji carried him back through the rain, Chu Tinghan holding the umbrella to shield them both. Halfway there, Chu Tinghan gazed at Pei Ji’s handsome profile and circled back to his original question. “It’s pouring so hard. Why did you come looking for me?”
Pei Ji finally gave up, utterly bewildered by Chu Tinghan’s obsession with this question.
What answer was he expecting?
Pei Ji took a few steps before finally settling on his words. He said with a straight face, his voice calm and deliberate, “If something happened to you, Lucky would be terribly sad.”
Chu Tinghan, like a diligent student eager to learn, pressed further. “Only Lucky would be sad?”
After a pause, he added meaningfully, “Would Lucky’s owner be sad too?”
Hearing this, Pei Ji couldn’t help the corners of his lips twitching upward, though he suppressed a full-blown smile. Chu Tinghan’s thoughts are practically written all over his face, he thought. Doesn’t he realize how obvious he’s being?
He slowed his pace, feigning deep contemplation, and after a long pause replied, “Lucky’s owner would probably be pretty sad. After all, that’s quite a gash on his leg. Just looking at it makes me wince.”
Chu Tinghan: “……”
Wait, why is he twisting the question? I was clearly asking about…
“Alright, are you the ‘Hundred Thousand Whys’ or something? What’s with all the questions? Let’s just say he’d be upset, okay?”
At these words, Chu Tinghan’s heart skipped a beat, and he finally fell silent.