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 Xingshi, 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 Xingshi’s status in her eyes, enough to make her tread carefully.

By openly introducing Gu Xingshi 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 Xingshi’s well-being, Wen Yue 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 Xingshi.

Seeing Wen Yue’s confusion, Gu Xingshi 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 Xingshi’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 Yue unceremoniously ditched his uncle and took Gu Xingshi home personally.

Yan Zhiheng: “…”

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

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

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

Yan Zhiheng: “…”

Wen Yue 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 Zhiheng: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Xingshi had long known that Wen Yue 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 Yue. This Wen Yue—softened by love—was almost too endearing.

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

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

Wen Yue rested his chin on Gu Xingshi’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 Xingshi, momentarily stunned, blinked.

That’s it?

Wen Yue 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 Xingshi 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 Yue’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 Yue’s brow, and he swallowed hard, his voice low and strained as he tried to catch Gu Xingshi’s wandering hand. “Xingshi…”

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

Before Wen Yue could process what was happening, Gu Xingshi 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 Xingshi remained unfazed, tilting Wen Yue’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 Yue’s breath hitched. “Will you?”

Gu Xingshi 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 Xingshi 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 Xingshi 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 Zhiheng 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 Zhiheng’s voice.

Despite the arguments, Yan Zhiheng 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 Xingshi 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 Xingshi to carry on.

After that, Gu Xingshi 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 Xingshi 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 Xingshi turned to Yan Zhiheng. “Brother Yan, let’s head back.”

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

Gu Xingshi and Wen Yue 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 Xingshi gave his hand a slight tug. “Let’s walk a little.”

Wen Yue, 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 Yue walked silently beside him.

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

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

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

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

In Wen Yue’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 Yue’s own family. He could hear the happiness Gu Xingshi once had in his voice, cut tragically short in high school.

Gu Xingshi 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 Yue’s voice softened. “They raised you well.”

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

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

Yes, ‘this’ was Gu Xingshi.

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

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

Wen Yue: “…”