After Spectating Gossip, the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Big Shot – CH87

Chapter 87

After the release of Fleeting Light, Shen Hanyuan became an overnight sensation.

Initially, many people noticed him because of the CP hype, but over time, they were drawn to his personality and talent, becoming genuine fans.

His unique “natural CP aura” soon led to an avalanche of new roles. His agent, Ji Sida, was busier than ever, juggling Shen Hanyuan’s packed schedule, overseeing new talent training, and even joining the senior agents to learn more advanced strategies.

Though hectic, Ji Sida felt deeply fulfilled. The positive, collaborative environment at LeShi, free from internal conflicts, gave him a strong sense of progress every day—a feeling he’d never imagined possible at his former company.

However, he wasn’t without concerns.

With Shen Hanyuan’s success, many others tried to replicate his “CP aura” path to fame. For a while, CP-marketed celebrities flooded the scene.

But Ji Sida wasn’t worried. If this approach were so easy, they wouldn’t have struggled with it so much before joining Leshi.

Sure enough, the imitators didn’t last long before facing backlash:

[OMG, my eyes! This is so cringey and forced! I feel sick!]

[CP fans don’t just eat up anything, alright? Gross.]

[LOL, two wannabe stars marketed as having a CP aura, but there’s zero chemistry in their photos. What’s the deal? Opposites repel? Just add a third for some ‘Candy Crush’ chaos?]

[Not even a Shen Hanyuan fan, but gotta say, the man just has ‘it’. If you don’t, just stick to your lane, please!]

[Shen Hanyuan’s stock is rising even higher, lol.]

When copying Shen Hanyuan’s unique vibe didn’t work, some began targeting Gu Xingshi himself. After all, since his discovery of Meng Yuansheng, Gu had never failed to launch stars into fame.

Instead of fumbling with fake stories, why not go directly to the source?

However, despite the countless hopefuls eager to sign with Gu, very few succeeded. Then, a rumor began circulating: supposedly, President Gu had a soft spot for “unlucky souls.”

Getting famous might be hard, but appearing down on your luck? That was easy.

Before long, Gu Xingshi began noticing a peculiar trend: the entertainment industry had suddenly become a sea of tragic backstories.

One day, during an event, Gu, feeling worn out, tried to find a quiet corner to rest. As he settled into his seat, he heard a faint, tearful voice behind the curtains:

“…My parents threw me out for my sickly sister. You took me in, promising to protect me. I thought I’d found true love, only to discover you loved ‘her!’ You even want me to give up a kidney for her…”

Gu’s ears perked up at the drama.

Yet his usually gossip-hungry system sighed, sounding unimpressed: [Don’t bother; it’s all fake!]

Gu: [What?]

System: [This comes from the same writer who did that ‘sold to a tycoon as a caged bird’ script we heard last week…]

Gu: [Quite a versatile writer, I see.]

Just then, the curtain’s sheer fabric lifted, revealing a woman’s tear-streaked, sorrowful face. A single teardrop slid dramatically down her cheek.

Though Gu knew it was fake, he had to admit the scene was beautifully framed.

The system, however, was merciless: [Oh, please. Her assistant is crouched under the table with a mini fan blowing the curtain, and the ‘tear’ is from eyedrops. Even the angle was set by her assistant…]

Gu: […Really?]

At that moment, the actress seemed to notice Gu, her eyes widening in surprise. “President Gu… You… you heard everything…”

Gu raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly. “Oh, I didn’t just hear it. I saw it too.”

The actress’s eyes widened with feigned embarrassment. “I didn’t mean for you to hear… please don’t mind…”

“I don’t mind,” Gu Xingshi replied earnestly. “But your assistant must be exhausted!”

The actress froze, eyes wide. “!!”

Realizing he wouldn’t get any peace in this corner, Gu decided to move elsewhere. But as he turned, he saw a male actor hobbling over to a chair on crutches, his steps shaky.

Gu stopped in his tracks, watching as the man’s agent rushed over, looking at him with apparent concern. “Xiao Ye, you’re hurt so badly. Didn’t I tell you to rest at home?”

The actor, apparently named Xiao Ye, shook his head resolutely. “Brother Yang, I know you mean well, but I need to finish my work…”

A true picture of resilience.

After everything he’d witnessed, Gu wasn’t about to take this scene at face value. He cautiously asked the system, [So… is this legit?]

System: [The injury’s real, but not that serious.]

Gu: [Oh?]

System: [He bruised his knee yesterday when he got up to use the bathroom…]

Gu: […Alright then.]

Gu had taken on plenty of hard-luck cases, but not hopelessly clueless ones.

Deciding to leave, he made his way to the garden outside the banquet hall, only to overhear two young women whispering nearby.

One said, “Okay, sis, once President Gu comes out, give me a good push to the ground, and we’ll say the lines we rehearsed. Got it?”

The other seemed hesitant. “The lines are fine, but this ground is super hard! What if you actually get hurt? Maybe I should push you onto the grass?”

“Don’t worry! If getting a little bruised helps me sign with Gu, it’s worth it! Once I make it big, I’ll make sure you get to live the good life too!”

“Aw, sis, you’re the best!”

*

Gu: “…”

The world really has gone mad.

*

After this series of antics, Gu was fed up. If he couldn’t avoid the craziness, he could at least get away from it for a while.

Around this time, Qin Wen was set to fly overseas to shoot his new film—a second collaboration with Feng Tingyun. From a bit part in the previous film, Qin Wen had now been cast as the lead.

Seeing an opportunity, Gu decided to accompany him and handle some international business at the same time.

It had been a while since Gu had last seen Feng Tingyun, and after they wrapped up filming for the day, they shared a few drinks together.

Gu had first met Feng Tingyun not long after he acquired his gossip system.

When Gu was in high school, his parents passed away. Though many relatives offered to take him in, he declined them all. He balanced his studies with various part-time jobs. During one university break, he took up a job at a private horse ranch on a recommendation.

Feng Tingyun, a regular at the ranch, spotted him a few times and suggested that Gu would be perfect for the entertainment industry, even offering to introduce him to some companies.

Gu had turned him down, but Feng hadn’t taken offense. In fact, he even helped Gu out on a couple of occasions.

Hearing Gu mention it now, Feng laughed. “That little favor? You still remember that?”

He recalled how Gu had sworn he’d pay him back one day.

Feng Tingyun didn’t pay much attention to it back then.

For him, already an internationally renowned director, the idea that a temporary stable hand could ever repay him was laughable.

But in the end, it was this same stable hand who had helped him avoid a reputation-shattering scandal.

Hearing Feng’s reflections, Gu Xingshi raised an eyebrow. “Of course I remember. My best quality is that I repay my debts, for better or worse.”

Feng chuckled and shook his head. “After I sorted everything out back then, I tried to find you, but you’d vanished. I figured you didn’t want to join the entertainment industry, so this was your way of turning me down.”

He paused, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Turns out, you didn’t mind the industry—you just didn’t want to be an actor.”

Gu felt a bit embarrassed. “Ah…well, it was all just coincidence.”

Had it not been for his distant uncle’s will, he might never have come to the capital at all and would likely still be in his hometown, living a quiet life as a spectator of other people’s drama.

Just then, Feng Tingyun answered a call, and his expression shifted to something unusual.

Gu couldn’t help but ask, “What is it?”

Feng’s tone was loaded with meaning. “President Wen said he’ll be coming to visit the set.”

Gu froze for a second.

…Wen Yue?

Feng rolled his eyes. “If he’s coming, he could’ve just come. He didn’t need to call me about it. Can’t figure out you lovebirds sometimes…”

Gu immediately corrected him, “Come on, don’t start with that nonsense!”

“Not nonsense, is it?” Feng raised an eyebrow skeptically. “The whole industry’s buzzing about you two. Back when you recommended him to me, I thought you were awfully well-acquainted with him…”

Gu was speechless.

That knowledge came from his gossip system, not personal familiarity!

It seemed every bit of Wen Yue’s “baggage” had come full circle, hitting him like a boomerang.

All he could do was half-heartedly protest, “We really don’t have anything going on…”

Feng crossed his arms, unconvinced. “Nothing at all? Are you saying you don’t feel even a bit of something for him?”

Gu hesitated.

In the past, he would’ve firmly denied it. But now, he found he couldn’t respond with the same confidence.

Seeing through him, Feng sighed. “Well, I guess when they grow up, they don’t stay put.”

“Hey!” Gu protested.

Finishing his drink, Feng stood up. “Alright, it’s clear Wen Yue’s not really coming for a set visit. I’ll just tell him to head over here directly. You’ve had a drink, so you shouldn’t be driving anyway. Let him give you a ride back.”

Gu scoffed. “I’m not a child. I can call a car myself, you know.”

“This isn’t like home,” Feng said, shaking his phone. “Getting a ride here isn’t that easy. Even if you manage to find one, who knows if the driver’s sober. It’s safer with someone you know.”

With that, he quickly sent Wen Yue the location. “So, that’s settled.”

Before Gu could say anything else, Feng darted off, leaving him standing there, momentarily speechless at his friend’s decisiveness.

Not long after Feng Tingyun left, Wen Yue arrived.

He wore a long overcoat, and even among the crowd of foreigners, he stood out. His presence was striking, his figure tall and composed. Bringing the cold night air with him, he stepped into the warmth of the room, his gaze immediately finding Gu Xingshi with uncanny precision.

“Xingshi,” he greeted, his icy demeanor softening as he smiled. His pale eyes glimmered like a lake fed by snowmelt—clear and pure, with a calm intensity.

Gu couldn’t deny that he felt drawn in by Wen’s presence.

Wen walked over and took in the empty bottle on the table. Knowing Gu’s tolerance well, he could roughly judge his level of intoxication based on how much he’d had. Judging by the bottle, Gu wasn’t overly drunk.

However, as Wen bent down, he froze for a moment.

Under the soft, dim lights, Gu’s light brown hair fell gently across his forehead and cheeks. His skin was smooth and pale, almost like flawless jade, with a faint blush spreading from his eyes to his earlobes, like the gentle hue of antique porcelain.

Instinctively, Wen reached out and lightly touched the rosy spot. His fingertips brushed Gu’s warm, soft skin, a sensation entirely different from the cold feel of jade.

A little dazed, Gu murmured, “President Wen?”

Wen snapped back to himself, withdrawing his hand with a slightly awkward air. He steadied Gu by the shoulder, his voice low and composed, “Let me take you home.”

Wen’s hand was warm, the heat coming through the fabric of Gu’s jacket, and Gu couldn’t help but shrink back slightly.

Wen quickly pulled away, fetching Gu’s coat for him. “My car’s parked a little far off. It’s cold outside, so bundle up.”

“Oh,” Gu nodded, zipping up his jacket.

The moment they stepped outside, a gust of wind hit Gu, making him wince. Wen moved in front of him, lifting his scarf to better shield him from the cold.

His touch was careful, his fingers never quite brushing Gu’s skin. But Gu could sense a faint, crisp scent around him, clean and refreshing without any trace of tobacco, perfectly matching Wen’s composed and slightly distant aura.

Then Wen extended his hand. “The ground’s slick from the snow. I’ll hold on to you.”

Gu was about to decline, but the moment he took a step, his foot slipped.

“…Alright.”

Wen’s hand was much larger than Gu’s, enveloping it completely. With no barrier between them, Wen’s warmth seeped into Gu’s skin, grounding him as they moved.

Gu tried to pull his hand away, feeling a bit self-conscious, but Wen only held on tighter.

Finally, they reached the car, and Wen let go. Gu could still feel the lingering warmth on his hand, as if it had been seared into his skin.

Once they were both in the car, they chatted lightly. Gu noticed Wen seemed unusually knowledgeable about the area, even recommending places to eat and visit. Curiosity piqued, he couldn’t help but ask about it.

After all, Wen didn’t seem like the type to know these kinds of details—back in the capital, it was always his assistant, Tang Ling, who handled such arrangements.

Wen Yue began to explain, “I’ve been here a few times before, actually—”

Before he could finish, his expression changed suddenly. “Watch out!”

A car swerved erratically toward them, driven by someone whose face was flushed red and who was still holding a bottle in one hand, clearly unaware of the danger he posed. Wen reacted instantly, steering to avoid the collision, but the car lost traction on the snowy road, skidding uncontrollably toward the median strip.

Without a second thought, Wen yanked the wheel sharply, positioning his side of the car to shield Gu Xingshi from the impact.

There was a loud crash as glass shattered and the airbags deployed.

Gu felt a sudden force slam into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Dizzy for a moment, he quickly regained his senses, his first instinct being to check on Wen. He unbuckled his seatbelt in a hurry, only to see Wen looking dazed, blood trickling from a gash on his cheek where a shard of glass had grazed him.

While fumbling to unfasten Wen’s seatbelt, Gu asked anxiously, “Are you okay?”

Wen coughed slightly, trying to focus. “I’m…fine…”

Wen’s side of the car had taken the brunt of the impact, having struck the median, but thankfully, the vehicle was well-built, and the structure hadn’t deformed. However, the door on Wen’s side was completely jammed.

Gu opened his own door and, without a second thought, leaned over to half-carry, half-drag Wen out of the car. Wen’s head fell against Gu’s shoulder, and he let out a faint groan, his warm breath tickling Gu’s ear.

The dim light made it hard to gauge the severity of Wen’s injuries, filling Gu with a sense of helpless urgency. He wanted to hail a cab to get Wen to the hospital, but Wen stopped him, reciting a phone number.

Gu called the number, gave their location, and within minutes, an ambulance arrived.

The medics were swift and efficient, assessing Wen’s condition and then transferring him onto a stretcher. Gu got into the ambulance with him, his heart pounding the entire way.

At the hospital, after a series of examinations, the doctor informed them that Wen had only suffered a mild concussion along with some superficial cuts. Only then did Gu feel the tension in his chest ease slightly.

Even so, his emotions were a turbulent mix. He himself had barely a scratch, protected entirely by Wen’s quick actions. In that split-second, he had witnessed Wen turn the wheel with no hesitation to shield him from harm. The memory of it, the raw instinctive sacrifice, lingered, stirring something deeply unsettled within him.

Wen, now lying on the hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his head, looked pale but was as strikingly handsome as ever.

He noticed Gu’s silence and, concerned, reached out and took his hand. “Are you alright?”

Gu opened his mouth to respond, but found himself at a loss for words.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.

“Pardon the interruption,” said a voice, rich and smooth as a violin’s strings.

Both Gu and Wen looked over in surprise.

A man stood in the doorway, his features chiseled and striking, a blend of sharp elegance and flawless symmetry that seemed almost otherworldly. His tall frame radiated poise and nobility, every movement exuding a quiet, restrained charisma.

The man’s mere presence at the doorway seemed to illuminate the entire room.

Gu Xingshi felt a flicker of recognition, and then the system’s voice chimed in: [That’s Yan Zhiheng!]

It clicked for Gu instantly. No wonder the man looked familiar—this was the former powerhouse behind LeShi, the legendary Yan Zhiheng himself. Gu had even name-dropped him a few times to pull rank. The man truly hadn’t aged a day; he looked exactly like he did in his old photos.

But…what was he doing here?

Before Gu could puzzle it out further, Wen Yue’s calm voice broke the silence. “Uncle.”

Gu Xingshi: “?!!”