Chapter 142: Transmigrated as a Scumbag in a Boy Group Survival Show (24)
The friend glanced at Mu Fengyin’s phone screen—
“Did he eat poisonous mushrooms? Why is he so completely incoherent?”
Mu Fengyin continued carving his ice block. Rather than immediately adding Cen Yu’s WeChat, he spoke to his friend with an air of absolute indifference, “His manager probably caught him.”
Old Gao stared at the message Cen Yu had sent out, his face a mask of bitter grief.
When He Ci informed him about this matter earlier, his heart had been filled with a mix of shock and delight, prompting him to urge Cen Yu to hurry up and add Mu Fengyin’s contact info to see if he could latch onto the top-tier A-lister’s thigh.
Who would have guessed that Cen Yu would simply nod, unlock his phone, and finish sending the message in under half a minute flat? “All done.”
Old Gao nodded with gratification, still lacking a concrete understanding of just how wildly willful Cen Yu could be.
It wasn’t until he reported back to He Ci that He Ci fell silent for a moment before asking—
“Did you watch him send the message with your own eyes?”
“…” Old Gao failed to catch He Ci’s drift. He thought to himself that He Ci must really be growing senile in his old age; Cen Yu wasn’t a three-year-old child, could he not even send a message?
Did he really need someone hovering over him?
Though he cursed He Ci in his head, he maintained a respectful tone on the surface. “No.” After a second’s thought, he added, “Cen Yu sent it himself.”
“…Then go check what he sent.”
“Never mind, I’ll check it myself.”
He Ci hung up the phone right after saying this.
Naturally, the company held the account handles and passwords for all the artists’ Weibo accounts. Seeing He Ci’s reaction, Old Gao suddenly felt a flicker of uncertainty well up inside.
He sauntered over to Cen Yu’s side—
“How about you show me what you sent?”
He was terrified that Cen Yu might think he was meddling in his personal freedom (even though they checked this sort of thing all the time).
Cen Yu didn’t mind in the slightest, aiming his phone screen straight at Old Gao. “Look.”
Old Gao took one glance and nearly spat out a mouthful of old blood!
He finally understood why He Ci had looked as though he were confronting a deadly enemy, trembling in fear.
He instinctively threw a glance at Cen Yu, only to catch a “What’s wrong, is there a problem?” look on Cen Yu’s face.
And right as the two exchanged glances, a brand-new reply refreshed inside the inbox—
Looking at that sycophantic, flattering tone, and realizing who had sent that message, both Old Gao and Cen Yu lapsed into a dead silence.
After a long moment, Old Gao finally regained his composure—
“Mu Fengyin is a senior in the industry,” he advised earnestly, pouring his heart out. “And his popularity is sky-high.”
Naturally, the sky-high popularity was the main point. After all, for seniors with low popularity, regardless of how much lip service was paid to respecting one’s elders, sucking up to the powerful while stepping on the weak was an inevitable reality.
Cen Yu sat on the sofa, propping his head on one hand as he looked at Old Gao. “I already sent my contact info. How come he hasn’t added me yet?”
“…Do you think you’re Mu Fengyin’s crush or something? Is he supposed to hold his phone and wait for your message?!” Old Gao couldn’t resist complaining.
The hour had plunged deep into the night. Since Old Gao needed to take his leave as well, he offered a few more instructions to Cen Yu to be polite toward Mu Fengyin and not act too casual.
He looked for all the world like a painstaking livestream anchor manager, wishing he could chat with the number-one top donor, Mu Fengyin, on Cen Yu’s behalf.
Right before leaving, Old Gao spotted Xie Jinshen, who had walked out wearing a plaid shirt to pour some water—
“I heard that recently some sasaeng fans managed to hunt down this dorm’s address.”
“If anything seems out of the ordinary, make sure to report it to the company.”
Although the security in this complex was pretty solid, there were always fans with money and influence. Once someone bought a unit and became a homeowner, how could you possibly stop them from entering the neighborhood?
Moreover, due to the excellent environment and the fact that all units were luxury flats, this complex was not only a favorite among celebrities, but many internet influencers loved renting places here as well.
What Old Gao actually wanted to convey to Xie Jinshen was:
Keep a close watch, and under no circumstances let any scandal erupt within the group.
Once Old Gao shut the door and took his leave, Xie Jinshen finally turned his gaze toward Cen Yu, who was seated on the sofa.
Perhaps because both He Ci and Old Gao had been talking with Cen Yu just now, none of the other members in the dorm showed any intention of leaving their rooms.
Xie Jinshen slowly took a seat beside Cen Yu. “Little Yu.”
Leaning back against the sofa, Cen Yu made a “shh” gesture with his fingers. “Don’t forget what I said backstage.”
He spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as though being selfish, self-serving, and callous toward feelings were his inherent nature. Or perhaps sensing that those words sounded a bit too cold and harsh, Cen Yu added to soothe Xie Jinshen, “…You know this team only has a lifespan of a year and a half.”
Coaxing Xie Jinshen, he said, “Once I make a bit more money and the group disbands after a year and a half, I’ll retire from the circle. We’ll live together then.”
He uttered promises he had no intention of ever fulfilling.
The perfunctoriness in his tone was something not a single high school graduate would ever buy.
Yet the Xie Jinshen of the original work was an honest, gullible soul. He trusted Cen Yu blindly; no matter how absurd the promises the boy made, or how clumsy the excuses he cooked up, he firmly believed Cen Yu was doing all of it to forge a good future for the two of them.
Xie Jinshen took off the glasses resting on his nose, slipping them into his shirt chest pocket.
“Little Yu.” Propping his arm on the sofa, he drew close to Cen Yu at a measured pace. “But I haven’t hugged you in a very, very long time.”
He touched his own arm. “Can you give me a hug?”
Lowering his eyes, Xie Jinshen murmured, “You said joining the survival show was only to make money, for the sake of our future.”
Looking at Xie Jinshen, Cen Yu suddenly recalled a detail: the Xie Jinshen in the original work carried an additional setting—a mild case of skin hunger.
This was precisely why he depended on Cen Yu to an extreme degree, believing him through thick and thin even when Cen Yu’s lies were utterly clumsy.
“…But if my future doesn’t have you in it,”
Xie Jinshen offered Cen Yu a faint smile, “then does that future hold any meaning at all?”
Cen Yu looked at Xie Jinshen. “So what do you want to do?”
Perhaps because Cen Yu’s demeanor was overly flat, Xie Jinshen—who had slightly bared his claws to test the waters earlier—retracted his momentum once more. Standing less than 10 centimeters away from Cen Yu, a simple reach of his hand would allow him to touch Cen Yu’s arm.
Yet he acted like a well-trained dog. As long as he lacked a command from his master, even if food sat right before his eyes and saliva was already secreting in his mouth, he wouldn’t make a reckless move.
He stared at Cen Yu. “…I’m very easy to coax.”
“Little Yu.”
“I’m really easy to coax.”
Repeating these words, he kept his eyes glued to Cen Yu. “Even the cheapest piece of candy is enough to satisfy me.”
Meanwhile, Cen Yu merely sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. He looked at Xie Jinshen for a moment, then lowered his head to check the time on his phone—
“Half an hour.”
He stated to Xie Jinshen.
He could only vanish for half an hour; otherwise, if he remained MIA for too long, his teammates would inevitably grow suspicious.
A flicker of a smile instantly washed over Xie Jinshen’s expression.
“You’re the absolute best, Little Yu.”
“I love you the very, very most.”
Cen Yu maintained his “shh” gesture as before. “Quiet.”
