Chapter 20: A Happy Day
“Take Ji Xu, for example. That so-called white-moonlight first love—President Han hasn’t paid him any real attention at all. Aside from when he first came back, when President Han welcomed him, hosted a few meals, that was it. Lately, President Han hasn’t bothered with him at all.
Good grief, just those few meals, and Ji Xu hired paid trolls to hype it up as ‘old flames rekindled.’ In reality, President Han had no such intentions. The reason he didn’t clarify his relationship with Ji Xu was simply to give him a hand, let him ride a bit of the hype.
Ji Xu keeps clinging to President Han, and President Han only found him a few songs. But what President Han has given you all these years has been nothing but big-budget projects.
Take Director Wang’s second male lead—that role was reserved for you. If you hadn’t turned it down, it wouldn’t have gone to Meng Yi.
Didn’t you see? A few days ago, Ji Xu himself clarified his relationship with President Han. At first, President Han thought Ji Xu was the one smearing you and even went to confront him. Later, I don’t know how he found out it was Meng Yi behind it. But I can guarantee you—President Han will never be with Ji Xu.” Sister Bai said this with absolute conviction.
“I think I saw them eating together on the trending topics yesterday,” Jiang Yu scoffed.
Sister Bai was always good at sweet-talking him. Four years ago, if he hadn’t listened to her and mistakenly thought Han Cheng loved him too, he wouldn’t have fallen out with Han Cheng so badly and gotten himself harshly “taught a lesson.”
Her words didn’t make Jiang Yu happy at all. In fact, they made him worry—if even Ji Xu couldn’t lure Han Cheng away, then when would Han Cheng finally dump him?
“Eating together is just eating together—it’s not like they were caught in bed. Ji Xu is signed to Han’s Entertainment, after all. If he gets popular, the company makes money. And then you get to spend the money Ji Xu earns—wouldn’t that feel great?” Sister Bai said with a mischievous grin.
Jiang Yu looked at Sister Bai, who was even more confident than he was, and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Han Cheng cared about him? He really hadn’t felt it.
“Brother Yu, I’ve brought the wheelchair back.” Just as Sister Bai was about to continue persuading him, Sun Haoxuan came rushing in, pushing the wheelchair and panting.
“Thanks.” With the help of the two of them, Jiang Yu was seated in the wheelchair and taken into the bathroom to take care of his needs.
When he came back out, Sister Bai was holding her phone, apparently looking at something, grinning so broadly that her half-swollen face looked a little lewd.
Seeing Jiang Yu come out, Sun Haoxuan hurried over to help push the wheelchair, then supported Jiang Yu back onto the bed and even covered him with a thin summer blanket.
There was air-conditioning in the room, and Jiang Yu really was a bit cold—this kid truly knew how to read the situation.
Sister Bai finally put down her phone, tugged at her swollen mouth, and said with a sly smile, “Take a look at the trending topics. And people say President Han doesn’t care about you—at this rate, I think President Han is ready to fight his way through the entire entertainment industry for your sake.
I still have to take Haoxuan to work, so I won’t keep you company. Sister Chen said she’s already at the hospital and will be up soon.”
Sister Bai left with Sun Haoxuan. Jiang Yu picked up his phone and opened the trending topics.
[Han’s Entertainment wins the lawsuit; thirteen media outlets publicly apologize to Jiang Yu.]
[Fines imposed on the thirteen media outlets revealed.]
[The internet is not beyond the law; media should be even more cautious with their words and actions.]
[“Leisure Life” apologizes to Jiang Yu.]
[“Leisure Life” announces a temporary suspension of broadcasting.]
Jiang Yu went through the accounts of all the media outlets that had apologized to him one by one. Each apology was written very earnestly—though who knew how much sincerity there really was behind them.
The comments below were all defending Jiang Yu as well. Many of the usernames were ones Jiang Yu had seen just days earlier; when they’d been cursing him, their words had been just as fierce.
“Leisure Life” had apologized to him too. He clicked over to read the official apology statement—it really was an apology, but somehow it still carried a faint sense of grievance.
[We apologize. Due to our lack of rigor, we released a statement that misled the public and caused Jiang Yu to suffer online harassment.
In the future, we will promptly understand the physical conditions of our guests and provide them with proper care. We also ask guests participating in Leisure Life to proactively inform us of their physical conditions.
At present, we are reviewing the health conditions of guests we plan to invite in the future. Leisure Life will be suspended for a period of time, and the time of resumption will be announced separately.]
Was this blaming him for not proactively disclosing his back injury? During filming, he had been holding his lower back the whole time—what, did they think he was pregnant? If he’d been even a little more “big-name,” someone would have noticed he had a back injury. Yet not a single person asked him about it.
Jiang Yu scrolled through the comments under the apology statement and saw several familiar IDs—the same ones that had just been standing up for him under the thirteen media outlets’ apologies—now here again, calling him overly dramatic.
Originally, Jiang Yu wasn’t in a great mood, but seeing those familiar usernames suddenly made it less irritating, even a bit laughable. There really were plenty of idle people online, so lazy they couldn’t even be bothered to hide it.
Thinking it over, Jiang Yu felt that hiding his back injury wasn’t entirely right either. He shook his head and felt even less angry.
Today was a good day. Han Cheng had finally shown a bit of conscience, and Jiang Yu couldn’t help but mull over Sister Bai’s words—was Han Cheng really doing all this because he cared about him?
“Mr. Jiang, you seem to be in a great mood. Are you hungry? I’ve already wrapped the soup dumplings—just waiting for you to wake up so I can steam them,” Aunt Chen said with a smile as she came in carrying several bags, seeing Jiang Yu smiling up at the ceiling.
“I’m hungry. Make more—I’m in a good mood today. I want two big bowls.”
“That won’t do. Your back isn’t convenient for moving around—eat less, or you’ll be running to the bathroom too often.”
“Oh.”
…
“Damn Han Cheng—he actually dared to threaten me.” In the TV station’s lounge, Su Ming slammed his hand on the table, his face red with rage.
“I told you from the start not to drag Jiang Yu into hype like that. That kid’s been with Han Cheng for six years—he’s obviously different from the others. Look at Han Cheng’s moves these past few days; he’s clearly taken Jiang Yu to heart.
“If the show has to stop, then let it stop. Recently, people have constantly been trying to stuff guests into our program—mostly acquaintances, and I couldn’t bring myself to refuse them all. Those small-time nobodies only drag down the show’s quality anyway. This suspension is the perfect excuse to turn them away.
“What you should really be worried about now is Han Cheng tracing that exposé back to the Anle account you used. If he finds out, you might even be in danger yourself.” Jiang Shiran smoked anxiously as he tried to persuade Su Ming; the ashtray in front of him was already piled full of cigarette butts.
“He’s not a god. I already deactivated the account—how could he possibly trace it back to me?” Su Ming shouted, still seething.
No sooner had he finished speaking than the phone rang, startling both of them.
Su Ming picked up his phone. When he saw the name “Han Cheng” on the screen, his whole body shuddered.
Had Han Cheng really found out?
Su Ming and Jiang Shiran exchanged a look. With trembling fingers, Su Ming answered the call. Even though Han Cheng couldn’t see him, Su Ming instantly forced an angry smile into a polite one. “Hello, President Han. Is there something you need?”
“Su Ming, well done. I’m just calling to inform you that Leisure Life doesn’t need to air anymore—it’s permanently suspended. As for you, I have a big gift prepared for you.” Han Cheng spoke coldly and hung up decisively.
“Wait, President Han—” Su Ming didn’t even finish before the line went dead.
In an instant, Su Ming felt all the blood in his body turn ice-cold. In the height of summer, it felt as if he’d fallen into an ice cellar.
