Chapter 35#

Consolation

Su Mo drove Lu Yan to a scenic hilltop nearby.

The winding mountain road was well-paved. Although it was summer break, it wasn’t the weekend, so there weren’t many cars at this hour.

Su Mo parked at the summit. The altitude wasn’t very high, but it was still a few degrees cooler than down below. The mountain breeze tousled their hair and clothes, yet it gradually lightened the heavy heart.

Su Mo turned off the engine. They both leaned against the still-warm hood, gazing into the distance at the lush green trees lining the road.

Su Mo pressed down on his windblown jacket and said slowly, “Whenever I have worries or encounter difficult problems, I like to come here. The immense power of nature makes one realize how insignificant humans are, and those worries and problems become mere drops in the ocean, hardly worth mentioning.”

Lu Yan asked, “So does President Su come here often?”

Su Mo smiled. “Not very often.”

“Because President Su rarely encounters worries or difficulties?”

“You could say that,” Su Mo replied with his usual confidence. “Most problems can be solved, and many worries are just self-inflicted troubles.”

Lu Yan sighed softly and murmured, “Since I’m an ordinary person, how can I escape self-inflicted troubles?”

Su Mo turned his head to look at him seriously. “Mr. Lu has never been an ordinary person.”

Lu Yan smiled and lowered his head. After a long pause, he asked in a deep voice, “President Su, have you ever been betrayed by someone close to you?”

“What do you think?” Su Mo countered, then continued without waiting for Lu Yan’s answer. “Of course I have. Back when I first took over Su Corporation, no one accepted me, especially my uncles and cousins. To oust me, one of my cousins bribed the company’s creative director to sell an important design to a rival firm. At that time, Su Corporation was in turmoil due to the shift in power—one wrong move could have been catastrophic, a matter of life and death. And at such a critical moment, I was stabbed in the back by my own people.”

“What happened afterward?” Lu Yan asked. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard Su Mo mention his entrepreneurial history; they’d talked about it before at the café near the university. Su Mo’s tone then had been just as calm, his voice just as steady. Yet Lu Yan could still imagine how difficult it must have been for a young Su Mo to single-handedly hold up an entire company. And back then, when Su Mo faced betrayal from his own family, was there someone who consoled him the way he was consoling Lu Yan today?

“Afterward, I resolved the crisis and proved my ability. Though things weren’t completely smooth sailing from then on, the voices of opposition gradually faded. That crisis was not just a danger but also an opportunity.” Su Mo spoke lightly, then added with a hint of sarcasm, “Most of the time, what is family compared to profit?”

“What about that cousin?” Lu Yan listened quietly, then asked. “What happened to him? Did you forgive him?”

“How could I forgive him?” Su Mo lifted his head, his gaze sharp. “He betrayed not only me but the entire family. Still, he carried Su blood, so I couldn’t wipe him out completely. I exiled him abroad. Unless it was for birth or death ceremonies, he was never allowed to set foot in the country again or participate in any Su Corporation business. Otherwise, he would lose all support from Su Corporation.”

Harsh! Lu Yan thought to himself.

As Su Mo spoke these words, an air of ruthless determination emanated from him, a commanding presence that looked down on the world, like a true king.

Lu Yan gave a faint smile. “Compared to President Su, my troubles are nothing.”

“How can you say that?” Su Mo turned to him, the murderous aura instantly dissipating, his eyes softening. “What happens to each person is the most serious to them. The important thing is not to punish yourself for someone else’s mistakes. The more the other person wants to see you suffer, the less you should let it happen. If others don’t want you to have a good life, you must live even better. Often, ignoring them is the greatest retaliation.”

Lu Yan was silent for a moment, then said, “President Su must know about my situation with Xu Yongzhou.”

Su Mo didn’t deny it. “I know. Su Jue told me everything.”

“President Su seems quite dissatisfied with me,” Lu Yan remarked casually.

“That’s because of me. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with our current relationship, but he apparently doesn’t see it that way.” Su Mo smiled apologetically. “He probably said some unpleasant things. I hope Mr. Lu won’t take it to heart.”

“If I said I did mind, would that make me petty?” Lu Yan deliberately asked.

“Not at all,” Su Mo laughed. “Taking it to heart is only human; not minding shows your magnanimity.”

Lu Yan genuinely smiled. “President Su really knows how to talk. Then it seems I have to be a magnanimous person after all.”

Yes, there’s no need to punish yourself for others’ mistakes. Being reborn once isn’t for the sake of dwelling on things. Since things are destined to happen, isn’t it better to resolve them sooner? Since heaven has given him a second chance, he should seize it. For the rest of this life, he still had that grand goal, and he must strive unceasingly for it.

With this thought, Lu Yan felt completely relieved. The heavy stone that had been pressing on his chest was finally lifted.

Once he felt lighter, curiosity followed. He couldn’t help asking, “President Su, how did you know I was there?”

Su Mo smiled. “I guessed.”

“…” Lu Yan clearly wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Didn’t you say I’m good at reading people? Actually, I’m also quite good at guessing what’s on someone’s mind. It’s just that not many people are worth my effort to figure out.”

Su Mo’s gaze was intense, and Lu Yan almost couldn’t handle it.

It was Su Mo who looked away first. “When I called Qin Feng, you had already left. I figured you probably weren’t in the mood to answer the phone, and after analyzing the situation, I thought that place was the most likely spot for you to go. I assumed you might need to unwind afterward, so I went there to wait.”

“And if you guessed wrong?” Lu Yan felt an indescribable emotion—something between shock and gratitude.

“But I was right, wasn’t I?” Su Mo said with a faint smile.

Lu Yan was speechless.

Su Mo stood up, walked a few steps into the mountain breeze, then turned back to Lu Yan. “Lu Yan, on the surface you seem indifferent, but you’re actually a person of deep attachments. However, the path you’ve chosen inevitably requires you to let go of certain things along the way. The day you achieve your goal, you might truly understand what it means to feel cold at the top. The higher you stand, the lonelier it gets.”

That first sentence sounded familiar; Lu Yan remembered He Shao once saying the same about Su Mo. So, in fact, were they the same kind of person?

“Then, President Su, are you lonely?” Lu Yan asked.

“I’m very fortunate,” Su Mo smiled. “Because I have good brothers and good friends.”

Lu Yan thought of Su Jue, Li Ran, and He Shao, and couldn’t help saying, “Because President Su treats people sincerely.”

Su Mo didn’t reply. He slowly walked a few steps closer and said softly, “No matter what happens, Lu Yan, I’ll be here waiting for you. Waiting for you to come closer, or to walk away.”

They were now very close. Lu Yan lowered his eyes slightly and saw Su Mo’s pale lips. Unlike Lu Yan’s thin ones, Su Mo’s were fuller, slightly moist as they parted and closed.

These lips always spoke such considerate and touching words. Lu Yan couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to kiss them.

A gust of mountain wind blew past, dispelling the fleeting romantic thoughts that had suddenly arisen in Lu Yan’s mind.

Lu Yan subtly stepped aside. If he acted on impulse, it would be disrespectful to both of them.

That day, they stayed on the mountaintop until evening. Like every other time, they didn’t talk much, but it was pleasant.

By the time they returned to the city, Lu Yan had completely let go of his depression and sorrow.

After all, tomorrow was what mattered most.

Gao Xizhe’s new film was called The Trap—a rather suspenseful title.

After carefully reading the script, Lu Yan grew excited. For a mystery enthusiast, nothing was more thrilling than clever schemes and intricate plots. More importantly, with this type of suspense drama, the script was never the final word. During filming, if the director or even the actors came up with better ideas, the entire story’s tone could change. This time, he wouldn’t just be a spectator but would participate in the process—it couldn’t be more perfect.

That was the charm of acting: you could experience different roles and different lives, as if your own life had countless possibilities and you had unlimited chances to start over.

Soon, Lu Yan packed up and brought Song Hui to join the crew.

Compared to Zhou Yingcai, Gao Xizhe was much easier to get along with. This avant-garde director, influenced by European and American culture, was open-minded, quick-witted, humorous, and informal. The most amusing thing was his full beard, which made him look like a reincarnation of Zhang Fei. Who would have thought that under such a rugged exterior lay an extremely meticulous and rigorous mind?

Gao Xizhe was delighted to see Lu Yan. He apologized for the screen test incident and praised Lu Yan’s performance highly. Patting Lu Yan’s shoulder, he laughed and said, “When Li Ran told me I was looking for you to act, he couldn’t stop singing your praises. He said you have great instincts for acting and get into character quickly—he was shocked the first day of your screen test. I didn’t believe him, thinking he was exaggerating. But after watching your audition, it was simply brilliant. The other young man was good too, but I preferred you.”

Lu Yan smiled. “Industry rules, I understand. Director Gao doesn’t need to worry about it. Actually, I’m a big fan of yours. I really love your movies. Having the chance to work together is an incredible honor.”

Gao Xizhe’s impression of this talented and humble young actor improved even more. When Li Ran had recommended him, he’d thought highly of him—Li Ran wasn’t one to praise easily, and his professional judgment was impeccable. The little hiccup afterward had bothered Gao Xizhe a bit, but the investors had the final say, so there was nothing he could do. Fortunately, in the end, they chose Lu Yan, so he didn’t have to fret. He was also very satisfied with Lu Yan’s attitude. It was rare to find such a composed young person in this industry.

Once filming actually began, Gao Xizhe deeply appreciated how important and hassle-free an excellent actor was to a director.