WAM CH32

Mr. Zhou Weiping was in his fifties, though he didn’t look particularly aged. His graying sideburns were deliberately dyed jet-black, his gaze was deep, and his double eyelids were wide and large, sunken in a way that gave his entire face a three-dimensional sharpness.

The moment he walked in, Director Ou shifted his gaze away from the wall clock, checked the time, and said, “You always arrive right on the dot—not a minute early, not a minute late. You really refuse to take even the slightest loss.”

With his coat draped over his arm, Zhou Weiping smiled and said, “You’re still the same old you… pointlessly particular. As long as I didn’t arrive late, isn’t that enough?”

Director Ou joked, “That’s true. With a warm kang bed, a wife, and kids waiting at home, you wouldn’t care for an old fogey like me.”

Everyone present except Director Ou was unfamiliar with Old Mr. Zhou. Aside from collectively standing up to welcome him, for a moment they didn’t quite know what to say. Fortunately, Gu Yanzhou raised his wine glass, drank it down in a single gulp, shook the empty bottom of the glass at Zhou Weiping, and nodded. “Hello, Teacher Zhou. I’ve looked up to you for a long time.”

Shao Si had been searching Baidu for this Zhou Weiping for the past few minutes and had even asked in his WeChat Moments if this Teacher Zhou had any special hobbies, personality traits, or favorite foods.

Standing beside Gu Yanzhou, watching the Adam’s apple in Gu Yanzhou’s throat bob twice as he drank, Shao Si’s phone vibrated twice.

Calmly, Shao Si opened the comments on his Moments and glanced through them quickly. He saw a screenwriter older sister he had previously collaborated with reply like this: I only know that although Teacher Zhou’s ancestral home is in Yunan City, he actually grew up in Jiangbei. People over there drink pretty heavily.

After reading this, Shao Si backhanded his phone back into his pants pocket. At that exact moment, Gu Yanzhou set his wine glass down, his finger joints distinct and well-defined.

…

So treacherous.

This guy was simply unfathomable.

The positive reputation and public image Gu Yanzhou had built up so effortlessly in the circle were attributed by many to his high emotional intelligence.

Li Guangzong frequently used him to lecture Shao Si, teaching him how he should conduct himself and handle interactions with people.

At first, Shao Si didn’t care at all. Crossing his legs, he casually muttered, “…I have to pander to those idiots?”

“How can you call that pandering? It’s out of courtesy and respect. It doesn’t mean nodding and bowing to people is pandering, nor does it mean speaking nicely to someone you clearly dislike is pandering,” Li Guangzong had tried to popularize common sense in interpersonal relationships to Shao Si. “This is simply a means to avoid trouble while saving time.”

Yet Shao Si was too used to doing whatever he pleased. It went in one ear and out the other, his mouth offering perfunctory agreement, but whenever something actually happened, he still acted entirely based on his mood.

Take the incident with Chi Zijun, for instance. He had almost pinned Qi Ming—who had just recovered from a severe illness—back to the ground to beat him up again, and it was only thanks to the people around them pulling them apart that it didn’t happen.

That little rabbit Qi Ming crawled up from the floor, raised a hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, and pointed at Shao Si: “You just wait for me. I didn’t have the company blacklist you just so you could know that without me, you’re a nobody! Wanting to make it big in this circle? No way in hell! Don’t fucking fail to appreciate what’s good for you.”

Li Guangzong, who had just started managing Shao Si at the time, flusteredly pulled him back toward the side: “Don’t resort to violence, let’s talk things out properly…”

Shao Si genuinely wanted to shake off his hand and say, What are you panicking about? Count it on me if he gets beaten to death.

However, Qi Ming moved his finger away from Shao Si’s face and pointed straight at Li Guangzong instead, saying with a sarcastic sneer, “Shao Si, this person next to you—what’s his name again, Li something? Half-baked background, spent three years without a single artist under him getting popular. You might as well pack your things and get lost early on by sticking with a manager of this caliber!”

Things really should have turned out just as Qi Ming envisioned. A Shao Si without resources paired with a manager whose circle of connections wasn’t very broad could, at best, remain stuck in the “third-tier” category.

Yet perhaps it was precisely because Qi Ming was too confident that they managed to exploit a loophole.

After playing a few supporting roles, Shao Si unexpectedly received an invitation to a variety show.

That variety show was quite obscure, and the design of its game segments was unprecedented. The production team probably never imagined that it would blow up and become wildly popular overnight.

Shao Si became famous. No matter how far Qi Ming’s reach extended, he couldn’t do anything to someone who could “bring massive profits to the company.”

The company thus became Shao Si’s strongest backing.

However, the conflict between these two always made Li Guangzong deeply worried. He frequently lectured Shao Si: “Stop always resorting to fists. Let me tell you a story about my male god… A few years ago at a film festival banquet, when my male god went on stage to give a speech, some clueless young fresh meat rushed onto the stage drunk, splashed a whole face of water on him, and cursed him out with all sorts of ugly words. If this were you, what would you do?”

Shao Si answered without even thinking: “He’s done for. Don’t even think about walking off the stage alive.”

“This is the gap between you and the Best Actor!” Li Guangzong cradled his chest and said, “Do you know? Best Actor Gu didn’t even furrow his brow… Always so… gentle like a spring breeze…”

Spring breeze…

What the hell kind of spring breeze?

By the time Shao Si snapped back to reality from this past memory, everyone was already seated, some chatting, others drinking.

Before long, the private room was hazy with cigarette smoke.

Ye Xuan was also there tonight. Shao Si secretly observed her for a long time without spotting any anomalies.

From start to finish, this girl only picked up a few mouthfuls of greens with her chopsticks and drank plain water.

Eventually, unable to stand the increasingly suffocating smell of smoke in the room any longer, Shao Si stood up and headed out, planning to get some fresh air outside.

He took a stroll around and ultimately chose a secluded spot near the restroom, leaning against the wall to WeChat Chi Zijun.

Who would have thought that by hiding here, he would witness a good show.

First, Gu Yanzhou slowly appeared within his line of sight.

He saw Gu Yanzhou with his collar turned up, a cigarette pinched between his fingertips, chatting for a moment with a middle-aged man whose face wasn’t very clear.

After finishing the chat, Gu Yanzhou pulled a stack of something out and handed it to the man.

The man accepted it, glanced around in all directions a few times, and then hurried into the men’s restroom with brisk steps.

…That stack just now was money, right?

Shao Si narrowed his eyes, and four out-of-place characters untimely floated up in his mind: PY Transaction.

From Shao Si’s angle, whatever happened over there was completely unobstructed.

However, the other party couldn’t see him because a giant potted plant in the corner where Shao Si was squatting blocked him, forming a natural barrier.

A few minutes later, Shao Si clearly heard a sound resembling a pig squealing come from the restroom—a sharp “Oof”—startling anyone who heard it.

Outside the door, Gu Yanzhou spat out the final puff of smoke, then snuffed out the cigarette butt with a couple of twists.

“…”

The sounds inside the restroom became more and more hallucinogenic. First it shouted ‘Help’, and later it directly cried out things like ‘I was wrong, spare me’.

Hearing this, Shao Si’s hand shook, and he accidentally tapped a voice message Chi Zijun had sent over. To make matters worse, his phone was still on speaker…

That idiot Chi Zijun had a voice that was extremely loud to begin with:

—“Bro Si (Shao)! My Mala Tang franchise is open, hahahahaha! Come show some support when you have time~”

…

Shao Si wondered whether he should run away immediately or boldly stick his head out to greet him if Gu Yanzhou followed the sound over.

While Shao Si was hesitating, Gu Yanzhou had already walked over. He used one hand to brush aside the branches and leaves of the tree-like potted plant in the corner, revealing Shao Si sitting comfortably by the window ledge with his legs half-bent and his phone still sprawled across his lap.

Shao Si blinked: “What a coincidence, you’re out getting fresh air too?”

“No.” A faint scent of smoke drifted over as Gu Yanzhou walked closer, though it differed from the smoke in the private room, likely because it was mixed with his cologne.

Hearing Gu Yanzhou say: “I came out to deal with someone.”

Shao Si: “…Ah?”

“There’s a drunk in the restroom who was harassing a waiter just now. I went over to stop him and got a face full of his spit.”

After finishing in an understated tone, Gu Yanzhou coldly curled the corner of his lips: “Asking for a beating.”

While he was speaking these two sentences, the shrieks inside the restroom hadn’t stopped yet, mixed with two desolate cries of “Ah—”.

For some unknown reason, Li Guangzong’s frequently muttered phrase echoed in Shao Si’s mind: My male god, as gentle as a spring breeze…

…

Spring breeze my foot, more like an arctic gale, right?

And thinking carefully about it, that young fresh meat who had splashed water all over Gu Yanzhou’s face at the film festival back then seemed to have been blacklisted long ago, with no news of him for many years.

Gu Yanzhou pulled another cigarette out of his cigarette case. Just as he rolled it between his fingers and thought about lighting it, he remembered that the person in front of him had come outside precisely because he wanted fresh air. His fingers paused, and he stuffed it back in, asking by the way, “Don’t like the smell of smoke?”

“No,” Shao Si said. “I smoke occasionally too… I just don’t like breathing in other people’s secondhand smoke.”

The two chatted for a bit until the restroom finally quieted down. The middle-aged man whose features were hard to make out came and went in a hurry, leaving after finishing his job as a muscle-for-hire. Only the beaten man remained, clutching his face, hunched over, stumbling out from inside after a long, long while.

The drunk looked around twice and, making sure no one was there, viciously spat on the ground to vent his anger.

“It’s about time we head back in,” Gu Yanzhou raised his wrist to check his watch. “Another half hour.”

Shao Si was just about to say he was ready to head back too, when from afar he caught sight of Old Mr. Zhou Weiping walking out of the private room.

…And following right behind him was Ye Xuan.

Thus, the words on the tip of Shao Si’s tongue took a sharp turn: “I’ll stay out a bit longer, it’s too stuffy inside.”

He watched as Ye Xuan jogged all the way to catch up: “Teacher Zhou, could I borrow ten minutes of your time? There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

At this moment, the system suddenly came online: [There should be a prompt here, but I’ve been a bit overdrawn these past two days and detected nothing. Handle this yourself.]

[……] Shao Si said, [Since that’s the case, there’s really no need for you to make an appearance at all.]

The system: [I just wanted to let you know, in places you can’t see, do you know how hard I’ve been trying.]

[Give me a break.]

Ignoring the system, Shao Si kept his complete, undivided attention locked onto the commotion over there.

Zhou Weiping came to a halt, his expression still relatively gentle: “Young lady, is there something you need?”

Staring right at him, Ye Xuan bit out every word: “Did you used to… use the name Zhou Jianguo?”