WAM CH11

Li Guangzong truly thought Shao Si had seen the light, actually knowing to add someone on WeChat.

Little did he know, Shao Si had just been in the interrogation room, taking advantage of the moment Gu Yanzhou walked out to secretly ask Officer Wang what that phone call was all about.

“What do you mean what was it about?” Officer Wang didn’t react at first, then shifted his tone. “You mean the call Yang Yinyin made to Gu Yanzhou before she died? … I can’t tell you that. We respect the wishes of the parties involved.”

Shao Si kept his hands in his pockets and didn’t ask further.

Then he would just have to take the troublesome route and pry it out of Gu Yanzhou’s mouth.

Gu Yanzhou actually had two phone numbers: one for work and one private number. The one listed on the business card was the dedicated work number.

He rarely used this work number normally. Even when he did communicate through it, it was via text message, and the contacts were mostly just nodding acquaintances in the industry. If it was a director or investor, he would directly hand the matter over to Chen Yang to contact them.

Therefore, over all these years, if Shao Si hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even realized that no one had ever added the WeChat associated with this number.

[Your Daddy Shao] requests to add you as a friend. Accept or Decline.

Just as Gu Yanzhou switched WeChat accounts, this message popped up with a ‘ding’.

…

Your Daddy Shao.

Gu Yanzhou lifted his eyelids, staring at those three words with no expression on his face.

Shao Si walked slowly and leisurely, only wandering down to the underground garage after Gu Yanzhou’s car had driven away. Pulling open the car door and slipping inside, he held his phone in one hand and took off his hat with the other, shook out his hair, and expertly laid down in the backseat.

Li Guangzong was genuinely impressed by his lying-down skills. Because Shao Si wasn’t short—standing close to 1.8 meters tall—yet every time, he managed to curl up into the most comfortable posture in such a cramped space.

“Where’s my blanket?” Shao Si felt something was missing after lying down. Propping up his upper body, he rubbed his head and asked, “… What did you do with it?”

Blanket, blanket! I was almost scared into a heart attack by you, yet you’re still so carefree!

Annoyed, Li Guangzong got out of the car, walked around to the back, and pulled the blanket out of the trunk: “Here, Your Majesty’s dragon blanket.”

Shao Si took it, shook it open in a few swift motions, and then started waiting for a certain someone to accept his friend request.

Getting bored of waiting, he went to scroll through his Moments, looking at the various bowls of Malatang Chi Zijun posted every day, as well as that idiot Qi Ming taking his fresh meat idol around and showing off with passive-aggressive remarks.

Oh, and his lovely manager, who asked every day what to drink to reduce internal heat.

“Little Son, turn around and let Daddy look,” Shao Si put down his phone, sized Li Guangzong up for a moment, and came to a conclusion, “…You really have grown a few blisters on your mouth.”

Li Guangzong: “This is all thanks to you. Thanks a lot.”

Shao Si touched his nose: “You should drink some chrysanthemum tea when you have time.”

Li Guangzong: “Just cause less trouble for me, and I’ll be fine.”

At first, Shao Si was still thinking about WeChat, but later, after throwing himself into his work, he forgot about Gu Yanzhou completely.

By the time he finished all his work and got home, it was already past 1:00 AM.

After taking a shower, Shao Si tied a bath towel around his waist and collapsed onto the bed without even blow-drying his hair.

Closing his eyes, just as he was about to fall asleep, he groggily remembered he seemed to have forgotten something.

So he stuck a hand out from under the covers to feel for the phone on the table. His fingers swiped left and right repeatedly, but still couldn’t touch it.

Only then did he poke his head out to look. With his hair half-wet, it took him a long time just to pry his eyes open.

Opening WeChat, a notification message instantly dispelled more than half of his drowsiness.

You have added [Gu Yanzhou] as a friend.

Shao Si immediately yanked the phone under the covers, his head shrinking back in along with it. The fluorescent light from the screen brightened the inside of the blanket a few degrees.

His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen, sending an emoji over.

— [/Smile] — Senior Brother Gu, are you there?

After sending these two messages, Shao Si backed out, preparing to observe what kind of things Best Actor Gu usually posted on his WeChat Moments.

As a result, when he clicked into his personal photo album, he found there wasn’t a single post inside.

It was completely empty.

So Shao Si retreated back to the chat interface. Only then did he notice that Gu Yanzhou hadn’t even set a profile picture.

…It looked like a fake WeChat account.

Waiting for Gu Yanzhou to reply was truly physical labor; one needed to have sufficient patience.

It wasn’t until Shao Si was almost asleep that the other side replied with a single, highly aloof word: Here.

Shao Si pondered over what this ‘Here’ was supposed to mean.

[That word is quite friendly,] the system popped out from god knows where, [It shows the other party has quite a strong desire to keep chatting with you.]

Shao Si: [Is that so? Why don’t I think it looks like it?]

Regardless of whether Gu Yanzhou actually had the desire to keep chatting with him, this chat had to happen.

[What should I reply with?] Shao Si rolled over under the covers and mumbled, [… ‘What are you doing?’, ‘Are you busy?’]

System: [So cliché.]

[Can’t help if it’s cliché, otherwise there’s nothing to chat about.] Shao Si quickly typed out a line of text: Have you had late-night supper yet?

[He’s definitely going to think you’re crazy.]

[Actually… I also feel like an idiot.]

About ten minutes passed.

Gu Yanzhou replied with six dots: ……

Shao Si pressed his advantage.

[Your Daddy Shao]: What does dot dot dot dot dot dot mean?

System: [You even have to ask about an ellipsis, you are so boring.]

Shao Si: […What else am I supposed to say?]

[Let’s not talk about that for now. Isn’t your WeChat name a bit too arrogant?]

Shao Si didn’t remember what his WeChat name was at all. He had just picked one casually back then. It wasn’t until the system reminded him that he specifically went to check his account profile.

…

[When did I pick such an idiotic name?]

Shao Si couldn’t believe he had just chatted with Gu Yanzhou for so long under the name “Your Daddy Shao”.

Then he squinted his eyes and savored it for a moment, saying to the system: […Actually, it felt kind of satisfying.]

System: […]

After getting his satisfaction, Shao Si changed his nickname from “Your Daddy Shao” to “Your Son Shao”.

[That’s enough, right? Is that low-key enough? He should be satisfied this time.]

Shao Si had both the AC on and the blanket covering him, so before long he felt a bit hot. As he spoke, he stuck half a leg outside the covers to cool off.

The system was merciless: [Enough, it just makes you look even more idiotic.]

When Gu Yanzhou finished his shower and stepped out of the bathroom, he heard his phone continuously buzzing.

[Your Son Shao]: Have you had late-night supper yet?[Your Son Shao]: Senior Brother Gu, I have a scene tomorrow, but there’s a line I just can’t figure out. Could I ask for your guidance?[Gu Yanzhou]: What line?

Yeah, what line.

Shao Si, who had been waiting for a reply since the dawn of time, was also pondering this question.

Shao Si threw off the covers, got out of bed barefoot, and flipped through things at his computer desk over and over.

For the next month, he was going to be fully dedicated to a shockingly terrible TV drama. He could act in that trashy show without even looking at the script.

…Something about The Demon Prince’s Runaway Sweetheart.

The general plot was an extraordinary story between a wickedly charming, arrogant rich young master and an ordinary girl in a noble academy. It was sprinkled with the “cancer killer”, the “family feud killer”, the “amnesia killer”, and all sorts of melodramatic tropes.

Shao Si agonized over it for a long time, ultimately taking a picture of a certain monologue for the male lead on page thirty-one.

—“I fucking don’t even know what I love about you, you damn woman. What part of your entire body is worth this young master liking?! What kind of woman can’t this young master have? Why, why did it have to be you that I can’t extricate myself from? Is this heaven’s retribution upon me?!”

This time, Gu Yanzhou replied very quickly.

[Gu Yanzhou]: ……[Gu Yanzhou]: There’s nothing hard to figure out.

Shao Si thought to himself: As expected of a Best Actor, he can actually find a way to interpret such an idiotic line.

But then he saw Gu Yanzhou send him another message: — Just imagine yourself as a brain-dead child and it will be fine.

[System, I can’t keep chatting, and I’m so sleepy.] Shao Si stared at the words ‘brain-dead child’, not daring to imagine what kind of impression he had left on Gu Yanzhou during tonight’s conversation. […I’m going to sleep. I’ll fight again another day.]

At six o’clock the next morning, Shao Si was dragged out of bed by Li Guangzong.

“The Demon Prince’s Runaway Sweetheart‘s opening ceremony is at 9 AM today. Hurry up and get up, you can’t be late. The makeup artist is already waiting for you in the nanny van, let’s save some time.” Like a seasoned pro, Li Guangzong dragged Shao Si into the bathroom and even squeezed the toothpaste for him. “You can change your clothes in the car later.”

“That trashy drama, even your male god called it brain-dead.” Shao Si leaned against the wall brushing his teeth, using the wall to support himself from falling backward.

“What about my male god…” When Li Guangzong was busy, his brain just looped through the things he had to do; at this moment, even his male god couldn’t wedge his way in. “Hurry up, you’ve been brushing for two minutes already. Can you be faster?”

Shao Si answered him in an extremely lazy voice, “Teeth need to be brushed for a full three minutes.”

Li Guangzong patiently waited for Shao Si to finish brushing his teeth and washing his face. Then, ignoring the fact that he was still wearing his loungewear and slippers, he dragged him and sprinted downstairs.

The company had accepted the drama The Demon Prince’s Runaway Sweetheart for Shao Si. Although the script was terrible, the pay was absurdly high, and the investors had specifically requested Shao Si to act in it.

When he first heard the news, Shao Si had said, “Wouldn’t it be better to have them find that guy, Yang Ze, under Qi Ming? One is willing to throw money around, and the other is willing to act in trashy dramas.”

Talk was just talk. Both Shao Si and Li Guangzong knew that they didn’t have the power to go against the company yet.

Even though Shao Si had won Best Actor, his qualifications were still very shallow and didn’t count for much. The title of Best Actor was currently more like a gimmick, a sharp weapon used by the company to package him.

“How many years did I sign with the company? Ten years?” Shao Si said while opening WeChat. “So annoying, let it expire sooner.”

[Your Son Shao]: Senior Brother Gu, morning.

This WeChat message, as always, sank into the ocean like a stone.

Shao Si originally had a bit of morning crankiness, though it wasn’t severe; he just felt subconsciously a bit irritable.

But as he stared at that system default avatar that hadn’t shown any activity for ages, staring at the three words ‘Gu Yanzhou’, he also felt his temper rising.

…This person is also so annoying.

Really hard to get close to.

Does he not like this kind of well-behaved, cute, diligent, and eager-to-learn junior brother persona?