After Spectating Gossip, the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Big Shot – CH94

Chapter 94

Wen Yue had rushed over as soon as he received Yan Zhiheng’s message.

After all, barely had #10086 exposed Bian Shicheng’s crimes when Zhuang Yuan invited Gu Xingshi and Yan Zhiheng to dinner. It didn’t seem like a friendly gesture.

Though LeShi Entertainment had gained a certain level of recognition in the industry, it was nothing compared to Zhuang Yuan’s power. If she decided to make things difficult for Gu, there would be little he could do to defend himself.

And so, the key was to address Zhuang Yuan’s concerns directly. Breaking ties was not an option; instead, he needed to elevate Gu’s status in her eyes, enough to make her tread carefully.

By openly introducing Gu as his fiancé, even someone like Zhuang Yuan would have to weigh her response carefully.

As expected, Zhuang’s gaze lingered on their intertwined hands before she finally spoke. “I’ve heard that Mr. Wen and Xingshi are quite close, and indeed, it seems… there is a deep bond between you two.”

Gu Xingshi: …Are you implying he’s got a love-brain?

Having focused solely on Gu’s well-being, Wen was only now taking in his surroundings. He noticed that Bian Shicheng was nowhere to be seen, and Zhuang seemed more warm than antagonistic toward Gu.

Seeing Wen’s confusion, Gu leaned over and briefly explained what had happened.

Wen Yue: “…”

Under Zhuang Yuan’s and Yan Zhiheng’s amused gazes, he showed no intention of letting go of Gu’s hand and calmly took a seat beside him. “I apologize if my concern led me to act hastily. I hope you won’t take offense, Minister Zhuang.”

Zhuang Yuan: “…”

Despite this minor interruption, the rest of the evening went smoothly, and everyone left satisfied.

After dinner, Wen unceremoniously ditched his uncle and took Gu home personally.

Yan Zhiheng: “…”

He should have seen this coming! That nephew of his was hopelessly devoted!

Gu, though, hadn’t completely forgotten his obligations. “It might be better if we drop brother Yan off first…”

Yan shot Wen a triumphant look—until he heard the rest of Gu’s sentence: “It’s on the way.”

Yan: “…”

Wen gave him a look of unbridled superiority. “Of course, after all, he’s already been waiting around for ages. A little longer won’t hurt.”

Yan: “…”

He should’ve known! No two people raised in the same family turn out any differently!

Once Wen had dropped off his uncle at the hotel, he didn’t waste a second saying goodbye before speeding off with Gu, leaving Yan to stew in frustration amidst the car exhaust.

When they finally reached Gu’s building, Wen shifted his gaze, his tone deepening as he said, “Today, I called you my fiancé. Actually…”

Understanding the implication, Gu reassured him, “I get it—it was a tactic for the situation.”

“It wasn’t just a tactic.” Wen met his eyes, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “What if that’s how I truly feel?”

Gu froze, momentarily taken aback.

They hadn’t been together for very long, and while he’d adapted to their relationship quickly, going from “boyfriend” to “fiancé” seemed like a big leap.

Sensing Gu’s hesitation, Wen added gently, “There’s no pressure. I won’t force you into anything you’re not ready for.”

Gu had long known that Wen had fallen for him first, and much deeper at that. Though there were no guarantees in love, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Wen. This Wen Yue—softened by love—was almost too endearing.

Seeing that Gu was warming to the idea, Wen leaned in close, his voice brushing against Gu’s ear. “Then… could you give me a little taste of what it might be like?”

Warm breath grazed Gu’s ear, making him shiver slightly, his voice softening. “What kind of taste?”

Wen rested his chin on Gu’s shoulder, his right arm wrapped securely around his waist. His tone dropped to a low murmur. “I want to see you every day.”

Gu, momentarily stunned, blinked.

That’s it?

Wen nuzzled into his neck, his voice barely a whisper, carrying a faint hint of grievance. “No uncle, no artists of yours to interrupt us, no work… just you and me, seeing each other every day.”

Gu felt a slight twinge of guilt. It’s true, we really haven’t spent much time together as new boyfriends.

He placed his hand on Wen’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt. Slowly, his hand drifted down, and he felt the muscles beneath his palm tense instantly.

A light sheen of sweat appeared on Wen’s brow, and he swallowed hard, his voice low and strained as he tried to catch Gu’s wandering hand. “Xingshi…”

But then, with a swift ‘click’, the seatbelt unlatched.

Before Wen could process what was happening, Gu slipped from his grasp like a fish, sliding out of his reach entirely.

With a swift move, Gu Xingshi opened the door and stepped out of the car, the entire motion smooth and seamless.

Wen Yue was left hanging, an intense look of desire mingling with the sharp lines of his features, giving him an almost uncontainable allure. But Gu remained unfazed, tilting Wen’s chin to plant a brief kiss on his lips before smiling slyly. “My dear boyfriend, what you’re asking for isn’t just a meeting.”

“It’s a date.”

Wen’s breath hitched. “Will you?”

Gu gave him another quick peck. “See you tomorrow.”

*

Zhuang Yuan’s swift and decisive actions left no room for doubt. Within a short time, news broke that Bian Shicheng was under investigation. Without Zhuang Yuan’s protection, his future seemed destined for a long stay behind bars.

As for Gu Xingshi, he returned to the steady rhythm of his work, occasionally breaking away to meet Wen Yue for dates. Life settled into a pleasant pattern.

Several months later, Bian Shicheng’s sentence was officially handed down. Zhuang Yuan had shown no leniency, and Bian was sentenced to fifteen years in prison.

When Gu saw the judgment, he let out a long, quiet sigh. At last, he had fulfilled his duty to his uncle.

On the anniversary of Gu Jinyu’s passing, Gu brought offerings and the court verdict to his uncle’s grave. Yan Zhiheng and Wen Yue joined him.

They set out the offerings, then burned the verdict beside the grave.

As Yan placed the paper offerings on the fire, he muttered, “I never thought Bian Shicheng would turn out like this. You put all your faith in him, poured your heart into his career… Only for it to come to this. At least he’s getting what he deserves. Now you can finally rest in peace and reincarnate peacefully…”

“Oh, and don’t worry about LeShi Entertainment. Despite your questionable taste in people, you did good by leaving it to Xingshi. LeShi is doing way better now than when you left it.”

There was a tinge of sorrow in Yan’s voice.

Despite the arguments, Yan and Gu Jinyu had fought their battles together. Their friendship had always been there, unspoken yet unbroken.

Gu Xingshi, however, remained silent, deep in thought.

He hadn’t known his uncle well. The only clear memory he had was from when he’d visited him in Beijing as a child, and even that was hazy. He vaguely remembered a gentle and patient man.

He never could have imagined that their next meeting would be at his uncle’s grave.

According to the lawyer, before his passing, Gu Jinyu had cleared all of LeShi’s debts, leaving Gu a company free from financial burdens. Perhaps he hadn’t been ready to let go, which was why he’d left those last instructions for Gu to carry on.

After that, Gu had spent countless hours studying his uncle’s notes left on his computer—records of the ups and downs of managing artists, mistakes made, and lessons learned. Gu Jinyu had believed in his artists, giving them opportunities to shine, but he’d also encouraged them to focus on honing their skills rather than seeking instant fame.

Sadly, those values seemed almost naïve in an industry driven by superficial success.

Toward the end, his uncle had written in his journal, uncertain, questioning himself. Was I doing the right thing?

Gu looked at the photo of the gentle man on the tombstone and said quietly, “Uncle, you were right.”

This version of LeShi, he thought, was likely what his uncle had hoped it could become.

Sensing his sadness, Wen Yue reached out, gently squeezing his hand in silent support.

When the last of the offerings had burned, Gu turned to Yan. “Brother Yan, let’s head back.”

But Yan shook his head. “You two go on ahead. I’d like to talk to him a little longer.”

Gu and Wen exchanged a glance and then nodded. “Alright.”

The two walked slowly toward the cemetery gate.

Before leaving, Gu Xingshi glanced back.

A soft drizzle fell from the sky, landing on them, yet Yan Zhiheng—usually so conscious of his image—seemed unconcerned. He had even crouched down by the grave, as if having a quiet conversation with his old friend.

Wen Yue offered to take him home, but Gu gave his hand a slight tug. “Let’s walk a little.”

Wen, ever accommodating, nodded. “Alright.”

The cemetery was tucked away in a remote area. Though desolate, it had a serene beauty to it, and with hardly anyone else around, it was remarkably peaceful.

Holding the umbrella to shield them from the drizzle, Wen walked silently beside him.

After a moment, Gu spoke softly, “The day my parents passed away… the weather was like this.”

Wen’s grip on Gu’s hand tightened reflexively.

Gu rarely talked about himself, always bright and lively like a little sun radiating warmth to those around him. Yet Wen knew that, deep inside, there was a hidden corner of Gu’s heart where he kept his pain, unvisited by anyone.

But rather than dwell on his sorrow, Gu instead began to talk about the happy memories he shared with his parents when he was young.

In Wen’s mind, he could almost see that blissful family of three—a gentle mother, an elegant father, and a playful Gu Xingshi.

Such warmth and closeness were so different from Wen’s own family. He could hear the happiness Gu once had in his voice, cut tragically short in high school.

Gu smiled, reminiscing. “My parents never asked much of me. It didn’t matter if my grades were good or bad, if I was obedient or mischievous. They’d always say, ‘Nothing in life is really that serious. Whatever happens, it’ll work out.’”

That simple motto had since become his own guiding principle.

Wen’s voice softened. “They raised you well.”

Gu tilted his head up, grinning. “Right? I think so too!”

Whatever heaviness had lingered in Wen’s heart instantly lifted.

Yes, ‘this’ was Gu Xingshi.

Wen’s fingers tightened around his hand, and he said, “Next year, for Qingming, let me come with you to visit them.”

Gu jabbed him playfully. “Don’t think that saying things like this will make me forget you’re sneakily changing your title for yourself!”

Wen: “…”