After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After registering their marriage, Pei Ji rode back to the hotel in Chu Tinghan’s car.

As they parted ways, Chu Tinghan lowered his car window, raised an eyebrow at Pei Ji, and, in a rare display of good humor, said, “See you tomorrow.”

Pei Ji, however, remained unaffected by Chu Tinghan’s cheerful mood, his expression burdened with worry. He merely nodded slowly, his response lukewarm and delayed.

Chu Tinghan watched his solemn retreating figure, frowning slightly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Pei Ji was considering backing out.

Of course, backing out was impossible. Pei Ji was now only filled with regret.

It was strange. Before meeting Chu Tinghan, he had always been able to maintain a clear head. But ever since their encounter, events had spiraled out of control like a wild horse breaking free from its reins, completely beyond his control.

The marriage proposal had come from Chu Tinghan, and the suggestion of moving in together seemed to be his subtly manipulative suggestion as well.

The fact that he had agreed to cohabitate with a stranger after a whirlwind marriage still seemed utterly absurd to him.

Pei Ji unlocked his hotel room, casually tossed his coat aside, and tugged at his hair in frustration.

How could I have agreed to this?

He knew he had wronged someone by getting them pregnant, and marriage was his responsibility. But immediately moving in together? That was still too much to accept.

Just as Pei Ji was mired in gloom and frustration, his phone suddenly rang.

Pei Ji glanced at his phone. As fate would have it, the caller ID displayed the name of the very person causing him such distress: Chu Tinghan.

His mind was currently a tangled mess, making a conversation with Chu Tinghan entirely unsuitable.

Yet the ringing persisted relentlessly, only further muddling his thoughts.

Pei Ji stood up, paced around the bed, took a deep breath, and finally answered the call.

After answering, he didn’t immediately speak, hoping Chu Tinghan would speak first so he could carefully consider his response.

But after waiting for a long time, he still heard nothing.

Puzzled, Pei Ji checked the signal bar at the top of his screen.

Full bars. There should be no connection issues.

“…Hello?” Pei Ji ventured tentatively.

In an instant, Chu Tinghan’s voice came through the phone.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Chu Tinghan asked casually, his tone relaxed and even cheerful.

Why didn’t I say anything?

Because I didn’t know what to say, of course.

But Pei Ji lacked the courage to voice such honesty.

Glancing at the full signal bars, he replied smoothly, without a hint of nervousness, “I didn’t hear you. Must have been a bad connection.”

“Did you need something?”

Chu Tinghan seemed to believe him, not pressing the matter. “Can’t I call you for no reason?”

Pei Ji had never expected a counter-question.

For a moment, Pei Ji was at a loss for words, frozen in silence.

Before he could formulate a response, a faint chuckle drifted through the phone.

Then Chu Tinghan spoke again: “I’ll pick you up by car tomorrow afternoon. I called just to remind you to pack your luggage.”

And to hear my newlywed husband’s voice, he added silently.

Unfortunately, the man was as stingy with words as gold. In the ten-minute call, he uttered only three sentences.

As if each word risked his very life.

Still, Chu Tinghan was in a good mood today, and those three brief sentences were enough to savor all night long.

The call ended swiftly. After confirming the time, Pei Ji hung up smoothly.

The next morning, Pei Ji packed his luggage and sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating his life.

An arrow shot cannot be retrieved. He couldn’t retreat any further.

Having committed to taking responsibility, he had to see it through.

Marriage is marriage, regardless of who I marry. Living together is living together, no matter who I live with.

Besides, the other party was the legendary pop idol Chu Tinghan, rumored to be head-over-heels in love with him.

By any measure, I’m the one who hit the jackpot here.

Golden sunlight streamed through the window, bathing Pei Ji in warmth. He unconsciously reached out to touch the invisible rays.

There’s no magic potion for regret in this world. I can’t retreat; I must move forward.

Having convinced himself, Pei Ji felt a newfound sense of ease.

That afternoon, Chu Tinghan arrived half an hour earlier than scheduled.

He parked his car near the hotel and texted Pei Ji that he had arrived.

Upon receiving the message, Pei Ji walked to the window and looked down in surprise. Sure enough, he saw Chu Tinghan’s black car.

Even after their marriage, Pei Ji still couldn’t fathom Chu Tinghan’s mercurial temperament.

Afraid that his mercurial benefactor might change his mind, Pei Ji grabbed his coat with one hand and his suitcase with the other, rushing downstairs as fast as he could.

He was terrified that Chu Tinghan might suddenly abandon him again.

When he reached the hotel entrance, Pei Ji slung his coat over his arm and scanned the surroundings, but the black car had vanished without a trace.

It had been there just three minutes ago—how could it disappear so completely?

Chu Tinghan couldn’t have lost patience that quickly.

Pei Ji refused to give up. Dragging his suitcase, he circled the hotel.

As he rounded a corner, the familiar black car reappeared in his line of sight.

Pei Ji breathed a sigh of relief.

Good thing he didn’t leave, he thought. I wouldn’t be able to coax Big Boss Chu back this time if he abandoned me again.

Approaching the car, Pei Ji found it empty—Chu Tinghan was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe it’s too stuffy in the car, and he’s waiting for me somewhere else.

Pei Ji set his suitcase beside the car and prepared to go look for Chu Tinghan.

Just a few steps away, he suddenly heard an extremely faint meow.

Judging by the sound, it was a young kitten, probably a pitiful little stray.

Pei Ji froze in his tracks.

Ever since childhood, perhaps out of a sense of shared vulnerability, he had never been able to resist such frail, adorable creatures.

He wavered between searching for Chu Tinghan and feeding the kitten.

Finally, he glanced at the time, gritted his teeth, and turned toward the sound.

It’s not like I’m late for the meeting anyway, he reasoned. Taking a detour to save a kitten shouldn’t be too much to ask.

The sound was coming from behind the car.

Afraid of startling the kitten, Pei Ji slowed his pace and crept cautiously forward.

Rounding the back of the car, he froze in shock.

Instead of the kitten he expected, he saw a person.

It was Chu Tinghan.

Chu Tinghan was kneeling on one knee, his back to Pei Ji, head bowed as if studying something on the ground.

Then Pei Ji noticed Chu Tinghan pulling a cat treat from somewhere and preparing to tear it open.

Pei Ji shifted half a step to the side, tilting his head to get a better view.

Earlier, Chu Tinghan’s body had blocked his view of the kitten. Now, he clearly saw a small calico furball curled up beside Chu Tinghan’s foot.

The little calico nibbled slowly at the treat, taking tiny bites. Chu Tinghan didn’t rush it, simply lowering his head and bending down to match its pace, patiently waiting for it to finish eating.

Seeing this scene, Pei Ji’s mood suddenly became somewhat complicated.

In his imagination, Chu Tinghan was cold and aloof, utterly incapable of stopping for a trivial little animal.

But the reality was the opposite. Chu Tinghan not only stopped, but also showed an uncharacteristic patience in feeding the cat.

He was even kneeling on the lawn, a bit of dirt clinging to the hem of his clothes, without the slightest trace of a superstar’s haughtiness.

This isn’t the Director Chu I know.

Pei Ji raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised, and took two steps forward, calling out, “Chu Tinghan.”

His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but perhaps the kitten’s innate sensitivity made it drop the treat at once and dart away from Chu Tinghan. In moments, it had vanished from sight.

At that moment, Chu Tinghan, who had just earned the kitten’s trust, hadn’t even had time to stroke its fluffy head.

……

Pei Ji froze in place, feeling rather awkward.

Am I really that scary? Just one word and I frightened the kitten away?

Pei Ji scratched his head and blurted out, “I… I didn’t mean to scare it, you know? You believe me, right?”

Chu Tinghan stood up, brushed the dirt off his clothes, and reverted to his usual cold demeanor, as if the patient, gentle man who had been feeding the kitten moments ago was someone else entirely.

“So… uh…” Pei Ji wracked his brains for a way to ease the awkwardness. “Where’s the driver?”

Chu Tinghan glanced at him with mild surprise. “I am.”

Pei Ji choked on his words.

I shouldn’t have asked.

What merit did he possess that would warrant Big Boss Chu acting as his driver?

Avoiding Chu Tinghan’s gaze, Pei Ji stiffly shoved his suitcase into the trunk.

After closing the trunk, Pei Ji walked to the driver’s side and said meekly, “I should drive instead.”

“Can you even drive?” Chu Tinghan asked skeptically.

Hearing this, Pei Ji froze, his hand hovering over the car door.

Though he had obtained a driver’s license after the college entrance exams, passing the written test, he had only just learned parallel parking during his driving lessons the week before transmigrating.

His driving skills were limited to reversing into parking spaces.

He silently withdrew his hand, walked to the passenger seat, and forced a bitter smile. “You should drive.”

Thus, “The Great Scumbag” Pei Ji once again found himself in the passenger seat of Big Boss Chu’s car, letting his sugar daddy drive him.

On the road, Pei Ji stared out the window at the rapidly receding scenery, thinking with utter despair:

Being a kept man to this extent—isn’t that another kind of life’s peak?

After moving into Chu Tinghan’s home, Aunt Zhang was the first to beam with joy.

Perhaps it was simply the sentimentality of old age, a fondness for stories of star-crossed lovers finally finding their happy ending.

From the crack of dawn, Aunt Zhang had been busy preparing dishes, creating a lavish feast that filled the entire table. She declared it the first family reunion dinner the household had enjoyed in months.

Family reunion dinner?

Upon hearing those words, Pei Ji choked violently on his water, coughing for a long time before he recovered.

The concept of “reunion” seemed like a distant memory, almost nonexistent in his life. The number of reunion dinners he’d experienced could be counted on one hand.

He never imagined he’d hear this long-forgotten term again, especially not after a whirlwind marriage in his sugar daddy’s mansion.

It felt surreal.

Moreover, considering his current relationship with Chu Tinghan, claiming they were a family felt strained, and calling this a reunion dinner seemed entirely out of place.

Still, Pei Ji wasn’t one to spoil the mood. He simply smiled in response to Aunt Zhang’s words.

Chu Tinghan, however, visibly brightened at the remark, his expression softening with delight. He even ate half a bowl more than usual.

Pei Ji, lacking appetite, picked listlessly at his food.

“Doesn’t it suit your taste?” Chu Tinghan set down his chopsticks and glanced at the spread.

A veritable Manchu-Han Imperial Feast—how could anyone not be satisfied?

Pei Ji explained, “No, I’m just not very hungry.”

Chu Tinghan stared at the lavish spread on the table, his mind still preoccupied. After a moment, he reached out with his chopsticks to pick up a dish, making a show of placing it in Pei Ji’s bowl.

Pei Ji panicked at the sight.

It was one thing to let my sugar daddy drive me around, but having him serve me food? That’s practically courting death!

Reacting swiftly, Pei Ji grabbed a shrimp and placed it in Chu Tinghan’s bowl, forcing a strained smile to mask his unease.

“Chu Tinghan, how exactly did we… interact before?”

Chu Tinghan’s expression froze. He studied Pei Ji thoughtfully.

Coupled with Pei Ji’s actions and demeanor, Chu Tinghan felt like Pei Ji was asking: How exactly did I mooch off you before?

Before he could answer, Pei Ji piled an enormous mound of food into Chu Tinghan’s bowl, nearly creating a miniature mountain.

“…Huh?” Pei Ji’s chopsticks paused as he plucked a long, white hair from the food.

Seeing this, Chu Tinghan’s expression flickered, his elegant eyebrows furrowing almost imperceptibly.

“What’s this?” Pei Ji wondered aloud, examining the thin, mid-length white hair.

Chu Tinghan maintained his composure. “It’s probably just a white hair that Aunt Zhang accidentally dropped in while cooking.”

Pei Ji still felt something was off. “Is that so?”

Chu Tinghan murmured a noncommittal “Hmm,” as if this were a commonplace occurrence.

Pei Ji remained skeptical, but unable to imagine anything else it could be besides a hair, he reluctantly accepted Chu Tinghan’s explanation.

Yet even after dinner, the white strand lingered in his mind, stubbornly refusing to fade. He felt an inexplicable sense that this thing was deeply significant to him.

Had he forgotten something important?

Pei Ji pondered deeply, racking his brain until a sudden spark of insight flashed through his mind.

It didn’t resemble a white hair at all. Rather, it looked like fur from some small animal.

This realization immediately brought to mind the stray cat he’d seen earlier that day.

A fluffy little ball, so small and utterly pitiful.

Unable to bear the thought of it continuing to starve and freeze outside, Pei Ji hesitated for a moment before asking, “About that cat today—”

“I don’t have time to care for it,” Chu Tinghan interrupted coldly.

Yet despite Chu Tinghan’s rejection, Pei Ji secretly slipped out later, determined to find the lonely little stray cat again.

Sadly, he searched the entire area all afternoon without finding a trace of the cat.

Unbidden, gloomy thoughts crept into Pei Ji’s mind.

It hasn’t been long since I arrived. Surely nothing could have happened to the poor little thing already?

As the evening sun gradually sank, its fading yellow light left Pei Ji feeling utterly drained, enveloped by a heavy, melancholy mood.

He stumbled back home, lost in a haze of despondency.

Besides his lingering concern for the little cat, a tiny human figure inexplicably surfaced in his mind.

The two-year-old child he had never met—Chu Tinghan’s child.

I wonder how the little one is doing.

Having a deadbeat dad like me must be pretty miserable for the kid…

When Pei Ji returned home, he stood at the doorway, gazing at Chu Tinghan with an impassive expression. His voice was low and heavy: “Chu Tinghan, do we have a two-year-old child?”

Chu Tinghan set aside his work and unconsciously straightened up on the sofa, a flicker of barely perceptible panic flashing in his eyes.

But that fleeting panic vanished in an instant, and Chu Tinghan swiftly regained his composure, his face once again serene.

Before he could reply, Pei Ji continued, his voice soft and wistful: “Can I… see him?”