Chapter 26: Wants to Eat Liver
This time, Tao Ran’s father was really using force. The sound of his forehead slamming into the floor was loud and jarring.
“Jiang Yu, I beg you, please let us go. Please, I’m begging you.”
Jiang Yu felt Han Cheng, who had been pressing down on him, finally let out a long breath. Han Cheng got up. Jiang Yu suppressed the faint flutter in his chest and turned to ask Tao Ran’s father to stand up.
Before he could say anything, the other three adults rushed over in a panic and dropped to their knees as well, kowtowing with loud thuds.
The remaining two kids who had been involved stood there, lost and at a loss. Wang Qianqian clenched her teeth, looked at Jiang Yu as if she had made up her mind, then pulled Tao Ran down to kneel with her. Pressing down on the still-shocked Tao Ran, she made him kowtow again and again.
Looking at the people kneeling all over the floor, Jiang Yu felt as if, in just this short moment, he had shaved years off his lifespan.
Unable to stop the six frantic people, Jiang Yu could only look at Han Cheng. “Forget it. Let them go.”
Han Cheng smiled faintly. “I said it before—other than breaking their legs, I didn’t do anything else. You’re free to treat the injuries and talk to the school. I won’t interfere.”
“Y-you really won’t interfere?” Tao Ran’s mother suddenly lifted her head and asked excitedly for the first time.
“You’re not important enough for me to lie to you,” Han Cheng sneered, his arrogance unmistakable.
The six of them didn’t feel insulted. Instead, smiles spread across their faces. Even the previously numb Tao Ran had light return to his eyes.
Tao Ran’s father excitedly turned and, despite his bruised and purpling forehead, started banging his head on the floor in front of Han Cheng again. “Thank you, Mr. Han. Thank you, Mr. Han.”
“That’s enough. Leave now. And don’t ever come back to disturb Jiang Yu again. If you do, I won’t let you off so easily,” Han Cheng said. Deep down, he truly despised Tao Ran’s father—no sense of propriety, always taking the lead in doing unnecessary things.
The six of them were clearly terrified of Han Cheng. Supporting one another, they got to their feet, and five of them hurried to leave.
Only Tao Ran’s father failed to notice Han Cheng’s disdain. He lifted his head, his bruised forehead looking like Erlang Shen’s third eye had opened, and insisted on offering seafood.
“Thank you, thank you. Mr. Han, you’re really a good person. My family sells seafood. Whatever you want to eat, I’ll deliver it to you tomorrow.”
Han Cheng frowned in disgust. “No need.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Our seafood comes straight from fishing boats by the sea—guaranteed fresh and alive. If you have time, I’d like to invite you to my shop. I’ll personally make you a seafood feast as thanks.”
Han Cheng’s face went cold. He had completely lost patience with Tao Ran’s father’s pestering and barked, “Get lost.”
Tao Ran’s father finally realized Han Cheng was angry, though he still didn’t understand why. Startled, he shrank back, waving his hands as he retreated, still insisting on delivering seafood.
“Don’t be angry, I’m leaving right now. I’ll go pick out something good and bring it to you tomorrow.”
The more Han Cheng listened, the darker his expression became. Did he look like someone who loved seafood that much? Did he lack money to buy it himself? How had this guy even managed to keep a seafood shop from going under?
“Shut up and go,” Tao Ran’s mother finally snapped, unable to take her husband anymore. She grabbed Tao Ran’s father by the ear and dragged him away.
Aunt Chen moved to lock the door again when suddenly Wang Qianqian rushed back in, bowed a full 180 degrees to Jiang Yu, and shouted loudly, “I’m sorry.”
With that, the girl turned and ran off again. At last, the room was quiet.
Jiang Yu froze for a moment, then smiled faintly. At least something good had come out of today.
Seeing Han Cheng’s sour expression, Jiang Yu teased him mischievously. “You really like seafood that much?”
Han Cheng shot Jiang Yu a glare. “Get some proper rest and heal up quickly. You missed Wang Hao’s movie, but there are several films being prepared for the Spring Festival slot. I’ve saved a few likable roles for you.”
“I don’t want to make movies. My back needs rest. Filming is too exhausting—if I overdo it again, I’ll end up back in the hospital.
“You’d be better off finding me a few more slow variety shows like Leisure Life. I can stroll around, make money, and not wear myself out.”
“You still want to do variety shows? Want to get stabbed in the back again? I didn’t know you had a masochistic streak.”
“Among the people around me, Meng Yi was about the only one I could call a friend. I won’t get stabbed in the back a second time.”
“Only one friend at twenty-six, and you’re proud of that? Attend more events—you’ll make more friends.”
“No thanks. Make more friends so they can frame me too?” Jiang Yu gave a bitter smile and shook his head. Relationships were exhausting. He really enjoyed his current lazy, laid-back days—he’d be even happier if Han Cheng didn’t stir things up every few days.
“You really don’t want to make movies?” Han Cheng asked again.
“Really don’t. I don’t like it,” Jiang Yu said firmly, shaking his head.
Han Cheng studied Jiang Yu for a while. That complicated look made Jiang Yu’s scalp tingle. He had no idea what Han Cheng was thinking, and that sense of uncertainty was uncomfortable.
After a long moment, Han Cheng finally spoke again. “Didn’t you used to love making movies? You even said you wanted to become China’s first Best Actor who directs and stars in his own films. I’ve kept your script ‘Flirting Scholar Tang’ all this time.
“You said that script had to be filmed by you. If you don’t want to act, you can be the director.”
The first actor to direct and star in his own film? Had he really said something like that?
Jiang Yu thought back, and vaguely remembered when those words had been spoken.
It was right after he had transmigrated. One song, Wind and Rain, had made him explode in popularity. Jiang Yu didn’t like singing—he liked movies and TV dramas, or rather, he liked being a director. Back then, he and Han Cheng were deeply in love.
With love and career both thriving, and bolstered by the resources of an entire Earth, he had been full of ambition and confidence to the extreme. Lying in Han Cheng’s arms, gazing at the starry sky, he had spoken that grand declaration.
Youthful recklessness.
Jiang Yu smiled, feeling a bit nostalgic for his former, passion-filled self. He shook his head and said, “You said it yourself—that was in the past. I don’t like making movies anymore, and directing is even more exhausting than acting. With President Han supporting me, I can make money just lying down. Why would I work myself to death running around outside?” Jiang Yu deliberately fluttered his eyelashes at Han Cheng in an affected, flirtatious way.
Han Cheng, however, remained expressionless—if anything, he looked a little angry. “What do you take yourself for?”
“Your lover, of course. Isn’t that what you said?” Jiang Yu blinked innocently.
For the past four years, he had kept that sentence firmly in mind and never crossed the line. The price of crossing it was too painful; he didn’t want to experience it a second time.
Han Cheng didn’t say anything, just kept staring at Jiang Yu.
Jiang Yu felt a little awkward. Han Cheng like this was somewhat frightening. Trying to ease the tension, Jiang Yu took the initiative to tug open his collar, revealing one shoulder, and teasingly flirted with him. “President Han, why so serious? Don’t tell me you’re tired of me and don’t feel anything anymore.”
Han Cheng continued to stare, expression unchanged.
Jiang Yu’s smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, but Han Cheng still didn’t react. Jiang Yu instantly turned serious, pulled his clothes back into place, and complained inwardly: This dog of a man really is a dog. Didn’t he like it best when I took the initiative before? What’s with pretending to be a gentleman now?
Then it hit him—now that he had a proper first love, a white moonlight in his heart, he naturally looked down on a shameless little vixen like him.
Tsk tsk. Men.
“Flirting Scholar Tang is a really good script. President Han could find someone else to shoot it—if it’s done well, it’ll definitely be a hit. If President Han is willing to give me some copyright fees or something, I’d be very grateful.” Since romance was off the table, Jiang Yu decided to talk money instead.
“Since I’m supporting you, what copyright fees do you need?” Han Cheng finally spoke. His tone was sharp. He stood up angrily and strode away.
“Aunt Chen, don’t you think he’s sick? Getting mad out of nowhere—such a bad temper. His liver must be the problem,” Jiang Yu said, flipping an internationally recognized friendly finger at Han Cheng’s retreating back. That rotten capitalist—always snatching other people’s things.
In a foul mood, Jiang Yu’s hands itched again. He suddenly felt like splurging Han Cheng’s money.
“Mr. Jiang, what would you like for lunch? I’ll go prepare it,” Aunt Chen said cheerfully, never involving herself in matters between him and Han Cheng, deliberately changing the subject.
“Liver. I want pig liver, chicken liver—any liver that can be eaten.”
“Alright. I’ll go buy it shortly.”
