After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 64
Chapter 64
When the scheduled livestream time arrived, the grand opening ribbon-cutting livestream had not only failed to commence on schedule but had been further postponed by another hour.
With the event repeatedly postponed, Pei Ji sensed something was amiss and sent Qiao He out to probe for information.
Minutes later, Qiao He rushed back in like a wisp of smoke, repeatedly checking the lounge door to ensure it was tightly locked. His secretive demeanor suggested he had uncovered a major development.
“What did you find out?” Pei Ji asked.
Qiao He locked the door, approached Pei Ji, and whispered in a voice only they could hear, “I overheard people saying that a shocking scandal has broken about one of the celebrities scheduled to attend today’s event. The brand is currently assessing the risks and may decide to withdraw their invitation.”
Pei Ji was stunned. “Which celebrity?”
He had been so swamped with work these past few days that he hadn’t paid much attention to which celebrities besides himself and Chu Tinghan were supposed to attend the event.
Uncertain and wary of implicating the wrong person, Qiao He pulled up the brand’s official account, located the promotional materials for the ribbon-cutting ceremony, and precisely pinpointed the section listing the celebrities.
He began counting them off on his fingers, reading each name aloud in turn. Halfway through the list, he abruptly paused.
Pei Ji noticed Qiao He’s wide-eyed stare, as if the unmentioned name on the list had struck him with disbelief.
“Why did you stop reading?” Pei Ji asked, puzzled.
Qiao He blinked, brought his phone closer to his face for another look, and exclaimed in disbelief, “They actually invited Xu Wangxuan to this event?”
Pei Ji froze, caught off guard. Before he could even formulate a retort, Qiao He had already voiced his thoughts.
“Xu Wangxuan is like a persistent ghost—he’s everywhere!” Qiao He grumbled, his face twisting with disdain. He couldn’t even bear to glance at Xu Wangxuan’s photo on the promotional poster and hastily shut his phone. “I saw on some marketing blogs that Xu Wangxuan is going to be a brand ambassador! What kind of judgment does this brand have? How could they pick such a disaster?”
Qiao He’s words spilled out impulsively, without a second thought. But Pei Ji immediately realized he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
They were on the brand’s turf, after all. How could they openly badmouth them like this? Unless he never wanted to collaborate with this brand again.
Pei Ji cleared his throat deliberately, signaling Qiao He to shut up.
But the mere mention of Xu Wangxuan ignited Qiao He’s temper. Consumed by anger, he completely missed Pei Ji’s hint and continued his tirade: “Didn’t they do background checks when selecting the artists? Why pick Xu Wangxuan, the ticking time bomb? He’s going to get canceled sooner or later!”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a knock echoed through the break room.
Startled awake from his reverie, Qiao He quickly clamped his mouth shut and began pacing nervously around the room, avoiding the door with each circuit.
Who could be outside? What terrible timing!
Trembling, Qiao He thought, Serves me right for badmouthing someone behind their back. Is it too late to take it all back?
He spun around and around like a top, making Pei Ji dizzy. With a helpless sigh, Pei Ji said, “Stop spinning and just open the door.”
Qiao He shuffled behind him, his voice a mix of helplessness and fear, “I… I’m too scared…”
Pei Ji chuckled dryly. Weren’t you all bold and impassioned when you were complaining earlier? What happened to your courage now?
The break room’s soundproofing was decent, and Qiao He’s earlier tirade hadn’t been loud—only the final “his career will collapse” had any real conviction. The rest was barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz.
With an air of calm composure, Pei Ji walked to the door and opened it.
Qiao He peeked out from behind him. As soon as he recognized the person outside, his fear instantly vanished.
It wasn’t someone seeking revenge; it was An Zhu.
An Zhu frowned slightly as she knocked for five minutes before someone finally opened the door. “What happened? Why did it take so long to open the door?” she asked.
Before Pei Ji could answer, Qiao He cut in, pretending nothing was amiss. “Oh, nothing, nothing! The soundproofing is just really good; we didn’t hear you knock earlier.”
An Zhu nodded skeptically.
Afraid she might press further, Qiao He swiftly changed the subject. “President An, why are you here so late? Did you close a major deal?”
At this, An Zhu suddenly sighed. She walked into the lounge, poured herself a glass of water, and sank into the nearest chair, looking weary. “Sun Qi sent me an email this morning. I went to see him at the hospital earlier.”
Hearing this, Pei Ji’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to ask something.
But before he could speak, An Zhu raised a hand to stop him.
With so many people around, there was no telling who might be listening. The conversation she’d had with Sun Qi concerned Pei Ji’s reputation and future—a matter too critical to discuss in a public space. They needed a secure, private place to talk it over.
Pei Ji immediately understood her meaning and clamped his mouth shut, leaving the matter unspoken for now.
After finishing her water and resting, An Zhu suddenly realized something. “Wait, shouldn’t the livestream have started already? Why are you still in the dressing room?”
Pei Ji explained, “They said an artist participating in the event had some scandal exposed. The brand is assessing the risk, so they’ve postponed it by another hour.”
An Xin froze. “Who is it?”
Qiao He’s eyes lit up. “Could it be Xu Wangxuan?”
Have my prayers finally been answered?
Qiao He, ever proactive, immediately grabbed his phone and checked the trending searches, but Xu Wangxuan’s name was nowhere to be found.
Greatly disappointed, Qiao He put his phone down for a while. Unwilling to give up completely, he later checked the recent posts of several famous gossip accounts.
A few minutes later, he let out an excited yell. Pei Ji, standing nearby, nearly had his eardrums blown out.
“Heaven rewards those who persevere!”
Hearing this, Pei Ji gave him a look that was hard to describe—as if he were observing a patient with a sudden, severe illness.
After celebrating by himself for a while, Qiao He finally noticed the simultaneous gazes fixed on him. He scratched his head awkwardly, managing to regain some composure. “Someone leaked a video online showing Xu Wangxuan throwing his weight around. I’ve shared it in the group chat—you guys have to see this!”
The next second, Pei Ji’s notification tone rang. The video was short—just over thirty seconds—but its content was explosive.
The camera angle was awkward, the left side of the frame obscured by green ivy leaves, suggesting it was filmed covertly. Four figures occupied the center of the frame, but only one was seated; the others were either kneeling or hunched over, their postures conveying abject humility. The seated figure at the center was Xu Wangxuan, the video’s protagonist.
Though the audio was muddled, fragments of their conversation could be faintly discerned.
The kneeling figure was a frail young man, presumably Xu Wangxuan’s assistant, who seemed to be prostrate on the ground, his hands trembling as he tied Xu Wangxuan’s shoelaces.
The person bending over beside Xu Wangxuan appeared to be a stylist, repeatedly bowing and apologizing, his expression utterly humiliated.
Xu Wangxuan, however, simply scrolled through his phone with a look of disdain, accepting his assistant’s kneeling service as a matter of course. He completely ignored the stylist’s apologies.
Midway through the clip, a kind-hearted staff member entered to offer water. Xu Wangxuan didn’t even acknowledge the gesture. Instead, he barked, “Get lost!”
In the lower right corner of the video, a stylishly dressed, beautiful young woman was hunched over her phone, seemingly unfazed by the scene unfolding around her.
Pei Ji paused the video at this point.
He scrutinized the phone case in the woman’s hand, repeatedly comparing it to the one Xu Wangxuan was holding.
Could these be a matching pair for couples?
He zoomed in on the screen and called Qiao He over. “Do you recognize her?”
Qiao He stared at the woman for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he wracked his brain. He let out a hiss, his eyes suddenly widening. “Wait a minute… isn’t she the actress Huanyu Media signed last year? I saw her around the office before I quit.”
“But I heard she only graduated last year. Her roles have all been minor, barely noticeable background parts—so obscure she doesn’t even have fans. No one in the industry knows her. Plus, I heard her character isn’t great either—just like Xu Wangxuan, treating people like they’re nothing.”
After a pause, Qiao He asked, puzzled, “Why are you suddenly asking about her?”
Pei Ji: “Look at her phone case. Doesn’t it look like a matching set with Xu Wangxuan’s?”
Qiao He froze for a moment, then exclaimed in amazement, “Holy crap, you’re right! They’re a couple’s set, aren’t they? How did you even notice such a tiny detail? Bro, are you Sherlock Holmes reincarnated?”
Pei Ji didn’t acknowledge the compliment, much less admit why he’d noticed it.
He’d never paid much attention to matching couple items before meeting Chu Tinghan. But since their relationship began, many of their daily necessities had become matching sets, sparking a newfound interest in such things.
Fortunately, Qiao He was oblivious to such matters. He clicked his tongue twice and remarked, “Abusing his assistant, acting like a diva, and dating behind his fans’ backs? One video could bury him three times over!”
“Thank God someone’s finally going after him! When I was his assistant, I cursed his downfall every damn day. Even emperors in ancient palaces didn’t throw their weight around like he did. Kneeling to tie his shoelaces was bad enough, but he also had me running from the city’s east end to the west before dawn to buy him some viral snack. If I was even two minutes late, he’d complain it was cold and dock my pay!”
“Six hours round trip! Of course it’d be cold! Not only did he refuse to reimburse my expenses, but he’d dock my pay too! He has the ego of a top-tier star but none of the talent. Even actual top stars don’t treat their assistants like pack mules.”
“You used to be Xu Wangxuan’s assistant?” Pei Ji asked.
Qiao He froze instantly, desperate to deny it, but reluctantly nodded.
He’d taken the job out of desperation for money. Xu Wangxuan was notoriously difficult to work with, but the assistant’s salary was high. Qiao He had boarded this sinking ship, only to have a quarter of his first month’s pay docked by the madman. From then on, he’d rather take odd jobs than endure such torment for a pittance.
Pei Ji instantly understood from Qiao He’s expression, which was a thousand times more bitter than Chinese medicine.
He’d previously assumed Qiao He hated Xu Wangxuan because he felt wronged on Pei Ji’s behalf. Now he realized Qiao He himself had been exploited by the man.
Pei Ji had never gotten along with Xu Wangxuan anyway. Xu Wangxuan had not only stolen his debut spot but also claimed all his original songs as his own.
In that case, Pei Ji wouldn’t mind gifting him one more grand surprise.
Moments later, Xu Wangxuan dominated the top trending searches:
#XuWangxuanActingLikeABigShot
#XuWangxuanBullyingHisAssistant
#XuWangxuanRelationship
#XuWangxuanRiggingTalentShow
#XuWangxuanCarAccident
Xu Wangxuan’s scandals dominated the trending topics, drawing a swarm of gossip-hungry netizens. His social media square became a frenzied spectacle.
There were disillusioned fans turning on him, former assistants pouring fuel on the fire, and even a past girlfriend—apparently the umpteenth—released a lengthy post demanding an explanation. The netizens were overwhelmed, barely digesting one bombshell before the next one dropped.
What a juicy scandal! Xu Wangxuan played the virtuous act perfectly in front of the cameras, but who knew he was such a scoundrel in private?
I’ve always hated him. Good riddance to his downfall.
He’s not just morally bankrupt—his talent is abysmal too. How did he even debut? Huanyu Media must be sweating bullets.
He’s never even dared to sing live since his debut. Is he mute or something?
Insiders claim Xu Wangxuan has been dating countless women, including sasaeng fans.
??? How many girlfriends does he have? More than an emperor’s harem?
Isn’t he supposed to have an event today? I remember he still has several endorsement deals to announce.
The event’s been postponed by an hour. I bet the brands are dropping him like hot potatoes. No sane company would dare associate with him after this avalanche of scandals.
Just as Pei Ji scrolled past this comment, a heated argument erupted outside.
“What right do you have to keep him from participating in the event? The contract was signed last month! Are you planning to breach it?!”
“We’re just following orders from our superiors. Arguing with us won’t solve anything.”
“Because of those online rumors, right? I’ve already told you we’ll handle this! It won’t damage the brand’s image…”
The argument grew louder. An Zhu recognized the voice and went to open the door to see who it was.
But just as she cracked it open, someone outside blocked her view.
Chu Tinghan stood outside with a cold expression, his voice low: “Enjoying the show, huh? Don’t you have enough trouble already?”
Before An Zhu could react, he pushed her back inside and strode in himself, closing the door behind him.
Pei Ji stared in surprise. Wait, why did he just barge in uninvited?
The more An Zhu listened, the more familiar the voice became. She pointed outside and asked Chu Tinghan, “Hey, Brother, do you know that guy out there? His voice sounds suspiciously like your bastard ex-manager, Liu Yang.”
Pei Ji noticed her choice of words and glanced at Chu Tinghan. “You have a conflict with him?”
Chu Tinghan paused for a few seconds before nodding.
An Zhu bristled at the mention of Liu Yang. “It’s not just a conflict—it’s a blood feud! If it weren’t for that treacherous Liu Yang, my brother wouldn’t have been forced to develop his career abroad.”
Chu Tinghan cast her a cool glance. Though his expression remained impassive, An Zhu promptly fell silent.
Pei Ji, however, seemed to grasp her meaning. He gave Chu Tinghan a deep, appraising look, as if plotting something.
An hour later, the ribbon-cutting ceremony finally began. Xu Wangxuan was conspicuously absent, and the brand’s official accounts had purged all traces of him.
Netizens, ever hungry for gossip, seized the opportunity, igniting another wave of heated online discussions.
Holy crap, they actually dropped him! This must be serious.
The negative headlines just keep piling up. The heat’s only rising, not cooling. Xu Wangxuan’s finished this time.
Doesn’t Huanyu Media have a top-tier PR team? Why haven’t they killed the headlines or issued a statement yet? That’s not their usual style.
Maybe this is after they’ve already tried to suppress the heat? Half the threads on the neighboring forums have been deleted, but the number of new posts keeps outpacing the deletions. Xu Wangxuan burned too many bridges—now everyone’s ganging up on him.
I heard he’s still trying to snatch a big role from some actor—someone who actually worked their way up from being an extra, step by step. Xu Wangxuan didn’t even go to film school, yet he’s managed to steal the part. Being a “resources kid” really gives you an edge.
He’s burned so many bridges. I bet there are plenty of people fueling the fire behind the scenes right now.
After the event, Pei Ji scrolled through these comments in the car, unsurprised. After all, he’d played a part in stirring the pot himself.
Seeing the situation gradually stabilizing, Pei Ji remembered what An Zhu had said earlier that afternoon. He turned off his phone and asked, “You said you met with Sun Qi. What conditions did he propose this time?”
An Zhu frowned, a hint of worry in her expression. “He sent me a short video clip. I’ll forward it to you.”
A few seconds later, Pei Ji opened the video An Zhu had sent.
The clip was only five seconds long, ending almost as soon as it started. Pei Ji barely caught a glimpse of its contents.
“This is footage from the bullying recording incident. He only sent me this tiny snippet, but even with so little information, I’m almost certain what he claims—that he has a video that can clear your name—is true. The clip is clearly time-stamped and location-tagged. If we can get the original file from him, you’ll finally be vindicated.”
She paused, then continued, “He heard you’ve been getting close to President Jiang lately and assumed you were planning to jump ship to Huazhang Films behind my back. He even tried to get me to join him in taking you down.”
“He’s drowning in high-interest debt now, with loan sharks hounding him at the hospital every day. He’s desperately short on cash, and the reason his mother’s hospitalized isn’t for treatment, but rather…”
“To hide from his creditors,” Pei Ji finished for her.
An Zhu was stunned. “How did you know?”
He had suspected as much from his first encounter with Sun Qi. If Sun Qi truly cared about his mother, who suffered from an incurable illness, he would have taken her to a major hospital in the city center for proper care, not kept her clinging to life in a small clinic at the foot of the mountains.
If Sun Qi had no real intention of treating his mother, then the only reason he was hiding in the hospital was because the surveillance cameras and security guards would make it too risky for the loan sharks to cause a scene.
“Take me to see him,” Pei Ji said calmly.
Since Sun Qi desperately needed money to save his life, Pei Ji would give him some upfront.
As for how to deliver the money, Pei Ji had already devised a plan.
It wasn’t until nightfall that Pei Ji arrived at the hospital where Sun Qi was hiding from his creditors.
As luck would have it, the other patient in Sun Qi’s mother’s room had been discharged that morning, leaving the room completely empty of outsiders. This saved Pei Ji the trouble of finding a private place to talk.
Pei Ji immediately slashed the price from 2.8 million to 1.5 million. Sun Qi initially refused, but Pei Ji ignored him and continued to lower the price. Sun Qi couldn’t hold out any longer, gritting his teeth and finally agreeing, “Fine, 1.5 million it is.”
Pei Ji nonchalantly countered with an even lower figure, “One million.”
Sun Qi nearly slammed his fist on the table and stood up. “One… one million?”
“That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.” Pei Ji made as if to leave, rising from his chair.
He had reached the door, one foot nearly out the door, when Sun Qi finally relented. “Alright, one million it is.”
Pei Ji returned to his seat across from Sun Qi and handed him a rectangular slip of paper.
Sun Qi, assuming it was a check, snatched it eagerly, his eyes gleaming with greed. But when he saw what was written on it, his face instantly darkened.
This wasn’t a check; it was an IOU for 900,000 yuan.
“What’s the meaning of this? We agreed on a million! What’s this IOU? And why is there interest?!” Sun Qi’s face burned with fury.
Pei Ji sipped his tea, his voice calm as he explained, “I’ll deposit 100,000 yuan directly into your mother’s medical card to cover her outstanding medical bills and future expenses. The remaining 900,000 yuan will be a loan. I’ll lend you 150,000 yuan per year, to be fully repaid over six years, with interest matching bank rates.”
After a pause, Pei Ji added casually, “Given your current financial situation, you wouldn’t be able to secure a single yuan from any bank, would you?”
The unspoken implication hung in the air: his willingness to lend him money was already an act of charity.
“This measly sum? Are you trying to brush me off like a beggar? I could earn more than this working a minimum wage job!” Sun Qi’s face flushed crimson, then paled with anger as he stormed to his feet, ready to leave.
Pei Ji wasn’t surprised, nor did he make any move to stop him.
Pei Ji had checked Sun Qi’s background. The man had little formal education, his only asset being his looks. Not only was he drowning in high-interest debt, but he had also ruined his reputation through various scandals. The entertainment industry was never short on talent, especially when it came to anonymous bit players like Sun Qi. These days, finding work in the industry was nearly impossible for him.
In the real world, with his limited education, securing a legitimate job that paid over ten thousand yuan a month was a pipe dream. His only options were grueling manual labor jobs, but Sun Qi was notoriously lazy and self-indulgent. He’d rather starve than work himself to death. How could he possibly bring himself to toil for meager wages?
That’s why Pei Ji’s offer was more than enough for Sun Qi.
The problem was, the man was too greedy, always demanding more.
But that was fine. Pei Ji wasn’t in a hurry. It was simply a matter of who would outlast whom.
Sun Qi’s footsteps faltered, his gaze darting back at Pei Ji every few steps.
Just as he was about to dawdle out the door, Pei Ji let out a cold laugh and finally spoke: “Think carefully. If you walk out that door today, you’ll owe more than just this paltry interest.”