After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 8
Chapter 8
See him?
Pei Ji actually wanted to see the two-year-old “child.”
Chu Tinghan fell silent, gazing into Pei Ji’s deep, dark eyes.
The house was vast and silent, so still that a pin drop could be heard. Pei Ji stood by the door, while Chu Tinghan sat in the living room, staring at each other for a long moment without either speaking.
The forlorn expression Pei Ji had worn upon entering gradually transformed into something akin to longing.
In that moment, he truly wanted to see the child.
Chu Tinghan’s heart churned like tangled thread. He averted his gaze, looking away.
After a moment, he finally found the words he needed, his tone firm and uncompromising. “No.”
Pei Ji frowned, his expression utterly bewildered. “Why not?”
Can’t I even see my own child?
Even as Pei Ji’s question made his scalp tingle, Chu Tinghan maintained a calm, composed facade. “Because he doesn’t want to see you,” he said evenly.
Pei Ji’s frown deepened, disbelief etched across his face. “…He doesn’t want to see me?”
Chu Tinghan replied without hesitation, “You abandoned him at home, ignoring him completely. Your actions were utterly irresponsible.”
Completely ignored them???
He actually abandoned a toddler who had just learned to walk, leaving him to fend for himself?
A flicker of astonishment flashed through Pei Ji’s eyes. His tightly furrowed brow suddenly relaxed, his expression shifting from bewilderment to frantic helplessness.
I really am a heartless scumbag, he thought. Ignoring both my husband and my child.
How did I become like this?
Pei Ji was utterly baffled, yet a sudden sense of relief, almost like saving the world, surged through him.
Thank goodness I transmigrated here, he thought. Otherwise, who knows what other lawless atrocities I might have committed?
In an instant, Pei Ji’s despairing mood, which had plummeted to rock bottom, was overwhelmed by panic.
“Then… if I want to take responsibility now, can I see him?” Pei Ji’s voice trailed off, growing fainter with each word until it was barely audible.
Even he found the statement ridiculous.
What do you mean, ‘now’ you want to take responsibility?
It sounded exactly like the casual boast of a worthless philanderer…
I shouldn’t have said that, Pei Ji bitterly regretted, wishing he could crawl into a hole and disappear.
Though Pei Ji’s words came from the depths of his heart, they sounded utterly bizarre.
Feeling guilty, Pei Ji lowered his head, avoiding Chu Tinghan’s gaze.
Chu Tinghan didn’t reply, merely staring at him with an inscrutable expression.
After a moment, Pei Ji grew increasingly aware of the absurdity of his earlier statement and tried to salvage the situation. “Um… if you can’t see him, that’s okay too.”
I wouldn’t want to meet my own irresponsible father either, he thought, so I can totally understand why the child wouldn’t want to meet him.
No one wants to meet a father who’s both irresponsible and completely indifferent to them.
A father like that might as well not exist.
Faced with this onslaught, Chu Tinghan’s mind raced, unable to process the situation. He hesitated for a long time, struggling to find the right response.
If he flatly refused the meeting, he risked exposing his secret.
But if he agreed, how could he explain to Pei Ji that the “child” he spoke of was… that kind of child?
After careful consideration, Chu Tinghan calmly replied, “It’s not entirely impossible to meet.”
Hearing there was still a chance to salvage his image, Pei Ji couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he waited for Chu Tinghan to continue.
Chu Tinghan stared into Pei Ji’s glittering, obsidian-like eyes, forcing himself to say, “I’ve been swamped with work lately, and since you’re not responsible for him, he’s currently staying with my parents. Once my tour is over, I’ll take you to see him.”
After a pause, Chu Tinghan added, as if realizing something was missing, “But there’s one condition for seeing him.”
“What condition?”
Chu Tinghan pondered for a moment before replying, “You need to make something of yourself first. Only then will you be worthy of seeing him.”
Pei Ji considered this and realized Chu Tinghan was right.
If he wanted to raise a child, he first needed the financial means to do so.
Besides, he didn’t want to be speechless when his future child asked about his job.
He couldn’t very well tell his child he was the kept boy of his other father, could he?
Not only would that be humiliating, it would also set a terrible example for the child’s upbringing.
Pei Ji nodded. “Alright, I agree.”
With that, Pei Ji stopped asking questions and went straight back to his room.
Only when Pei Ji’s door had clicked shut did Chu Tinghan’s anxiety finally subside.
He exhaled deeply and slumped back against the sofa, relieved.
I finally managed to get through that.
A moment later, still slumped against the sofa, Chu Tinghan suddenly chuckled softly.
I have to admit, Pei Ji’s amnesiac self is actually quite interesting—even more endearing than he was in college. His mind is completely consumed with this ridiculous notion of taking responsibility for me.
After returning to his room, Pei Ji changed his clothes.
He’d crawled through several thickets searching for the Little Stray Cat, leaving his pant legs rimmed with dirt and his body dusted with grime.
Once changed, he sat down at his computer, intending to meticulously plan his future development.
Though riding the coattails of Big Boss Chu was tempting, he wasn’t fond of relying on it.
What if Big Boss Chu suddenly snapped out of his lovestruck daze, finally saw Pei Ji’s true scoundrel nature, and dumped him?
He had no desire to end up a miserable beggar on the streets.
Besides, he wanted to make a name for himself quickly so he could see his child sooner.
Pei Ji had studied music and had always been most passionate about it.
With his talent and striking looks, signing with an entertainment company and debuting shouldn’t have been a problem.
Unfortunately, he’d already tried that path—and failed spectacularly. Instead of fame and fortune, he’d been smeared with scandal.
The internet never forgets, and nearly every online comment about Pei Ji was scathing.
To the outside world, he was now a disgraced former entertainer, forced into retirement and burdened with a litany of scandals.
Silently scrolling through the venomous comments on his computer screen, Pei Ji felt his heart race with anxiety.
The internet offered no sympathy or kindness, only an overwhelming torrent of insults and malice.
Pei Ji couldn’t bear to watch any longer; his heart couldn’t withstand such a brutal assault.
He shut down his computer, closed his eyes, and took a moment to compose himself.
Once he’d regained his composure, he reopened the computer to search for information about himself.
Even though he knew most of what he’d find would be unbearable, vicious criticism, he needed to understand exactly why his career had collapsed back then if he wanted to clear his name and rebuild his reputation.
Unfortunately, despite searching from dawn till dusk, he couldn’t find a single shred of evidence online.
Frustrated, Pei Ji rubbed his face wearily. He felt like he was drowning in a vast ocean, with relentless waves crashing over him again and again, slamming him back into the depths, denying him any chance to surface and breathe.
Buzz— The sudden vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts.
Pei Ji finally escaped the endless torrent of abuse, gasping for air.
His mind still groggy, his movements were sluggish as he fumbled to unlock his phone.
When he finally read the message, his pupils dilated sharply. He rubbed his eyes, rereading the message in disbelief:
The owner of the phone repair shop says your phone is fixed. When will you come pick it up?
The message arrived like a celestial savior, reigniting Pei Ji’s flickering hope.
The next morning, as dawn barely broke, Pei Ji rushed through his morning routine and sped to the repair shop.
But in his haste, he’d forgotten the shop’s opening hours.
It was only 7:40 AM, nearly an hour and a half before the shop opened.
Rather than wait outside, Pei Ji found a nearby breakfast stall.
The stall kept a plump orange cat that lounged lazily on a stool, basking in the morning sun. Its fur gleamed brilliantly in the golden light.
Pei Ji watched it for a while, then suddenly remembered the little stray cat from that day—skin and bones, looking like it hadn’t had a proper meal in ages.
Glancing at his watch, he calculated the remaining time before the repair shop opened.
The little stray cat’s usual spot wasn’t far; it would only take about ten minutes to walk there.
Pei Ji made up his mind instantly. He quickly finished his soy milk and strode purposefully in that direction.
He still couldn’t shake his worry and prayed silently that he’d find it this time.
But once again, he failed to find the pitiful little stray.
Searching for the cat, Pei Ji had been wandering around the neighborhood, looking suspicious. The supermarket owner, who had been watching him for some time, thought he might be a thief casing the place and quickly stopped him.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” the owner shouted gruffly.
Pei Ji turned to him and explained, “Looking for something.”
The owner, cradling a teacup, took a sip and frowned. “Looking for what?”
“A kitten,” Pei Ji replied. Desperate, he decided to approach the owner directly. “Have you seen it?”
Hearing that he was looking for a cat, the owner’s expression softened slightly. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Was it a calico kitten with three colors?”
Pei Ji’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes! Do you know where it is?”
The owner rubbed his teacup thoughtfully. “It seems like someone adopted it. The person was well-dressed, looked wealthy.”
So it’s been adopted, Pei Ji thought.
Realizing Pei Ji was worried about the kitten, the owner added, “That person seemed to have plenty of money. The kitten’s probably living the good life with them now. Don’t worry about it.”
Hearing this, Pei Ji let out a sigh of relief, feeling strangely conflicted.
Two conflicting thoughts warred in his mind.
On one hand, Pei Ji felt relieved that the kitten had found a reliable owner and would never have to suffer from hunger or cold again. On the other hand, his heart ached with self-pity.
Given his current circumstances, he couldn’t even support himself without Chu Tinghan’s assistance. He’d likely be lying on some street, let alone caring for a cat.
Sigh…
Pei Ji sighed inwardly, a bitter taste rising in his throat.
If I can’t even afford a kitten, how could I ever raise a child?
No wonder Chu Tinghan won’t let me see the boy yet.
If I were Chu Tinghan, I’d probably have severed all ties between the child and myself by now.
From this perspective, Chu Tinghan’s willingness to give him a chance to see the boy was remarkably generous.
At nine o’clock sharp, Pei Ji arrived at the phone repair shop and retrieved his old phone.
Unable to wait until he got home, he powered it on right there on the street, eager to piece together the seven years he’d missed through the messages and photos stored within.
He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and immediately opened the major social media platforms.
His first move was to open his chat log with Chu Tinghan.
He was desperately curious about how his former self had interacted with Chu Tinghan.
But what he saw in the chat log stunned him.
He’d expected to find plenty of useful conversation data.
Instead, all that met his eyes was screen after screen filled with transaction records and video call logs.
The video calls occurred once a day, always at the same time, so regularly they seemed like scheduled tasks.
The transaction records showed Chu Tinghan transferring money to him exclusively.
While each individual amount wasn’t large, the cumulative total was substantial.
If he’d previously harbored doubts about being a scumbag, these transfer records now shattered any lingering illusions. They cemented his identity as a heartless gigolo, a freeloader living off a woman’s generosity.
So… all those times he’d eaten Chu Tinghan’s food and drunk Chu Tinghan’s drinks… could those video calls have been just a ploy to coax her into giving him more?
The realization struck Pei Ji like a thunderbolt, igniting a pang of guilt in his heart.
He mentally cursed himself as a heartless bastard a thousand times, barely easing the sting of guilt.
He clicked on the call history, hoping to find some non-financial connection with Chu Tinghan.
Another thunderbolt crashed down, leaving him scorched inside and out.
At the top of the call history blazed a crimson number: 16.
Sixteen missed calls from Chu Tinghan.
A full sixteen, and he hadn’t answered a single one.
Pei Ji: …Am I seriously giving her the silent treatment???
Pei Ji felt like he’d lost his mind. How dare he ignore calls from Big Boss Chu, his sugar daddy?
He’d only ever heard of sugar daddies ghosting their gigolos—this was the first time he’d seen a gigolo ignoring his sugar daddy.
Was this what it meant to take affection for granted?
Pei Ji slapped his cheeks, forcing himself to focus and stop dwelling on absurd thoughts.
The rest of the chat history left him utterly confused. Fortunately, he managed to track down his former assistant.
The assistant’s name was Qiao He. Based on the chat logs, their relationship seemed quite amicable; Qiao He would even send Pei Ji punctual holiday greetings.
However, the chat history only preserved messages from the past year, with all older records having been deleted.
Assistants handle every aspect of an artist’s life, practically shadowing them everywhere.
After a moment’s contemplation, Pei Ji realized Qiao He might know the truth about what happened back then.
To uncover the truth, he might need to meet with Qiao He and have a proper discussion.
He couldn’t think of a better approach.
Besides, he was desperate to clear his name and turn things around. He had no choice but to grasp at straws.
With his mind made up, Pei Ji promptly sent Qiao He a message.
Pei Ji: Hi, would you be free to meet?
The last message in their chat was from six months ago. He wasn’t sure if Qiao He would even reply.
Pei Ji waited anxiously by the chat window for a long time until finally, the line at the top displayed “The other party is typing…”
It seemed his intuition was correct. Qiao He had been on good terms with him and could be temporarily trusted.
Perhaps he could actually learn the truth from him.
Seizing the opportunity, Pei Ji quickly followed up with another message.
Pei Ji: There’s something I need to ask you about.