Chapter 12#
[Chapter 012]#
Wei Di quickly paid the parking fee and silently steered the car back onto the normal road.
Jing Shun didn’t think much of this minor incident. He stared vacantly at the street scene outside the window, his fingertips continuously kneading the plush toy in his arms.
Suddenly, a voice came from beside him, “Where did that toy come from?”
Jing Shun glanced at the questioner, Chi Gui, and rarely showed a smile. “Doctor Wen gave it to me. It’s very soft.”
He held up his newly acquired little gift to show off, the tips of his rounded fingers tinged with pink.
Chi Gui’s gaze lingered for two extra seconds before he asked, “Did you get the test results? How do you feel?”
“Mm, it’s a bit of a psychological issue.” Jing Shun didn’t hide this established fact. “Doctor Wen is quite professional. We talked a lot today.”
In truth, Jing Shun had been hesitant at first and unwilling to reveal too much. Doctor Wen sensed his psychological guard, didn’t force him to answer, but used a highly professional yet gentle approach to gradually help him relax.
“…”
Chi Gui knew that such consultations mostly involved personal privacy, so he didn’t probe further.
Chen Yiming, sitting in the front row, was adept at reading the room and proactively brought up a new topic. “Young Master Jing, do you really like dogs? Before we left, Doctor Wen suggested you might consider getting one.”
Chi Gui caught the key point, his eyes slightly dimming. “Get a dog?”
Jing Shun hugged the little dog plush tighter, saying one thing while meaning another, “…It’s okay. I don’t plan to keep one.”
Actually, he had raised a white native dog when he was a child. It was a filming dog he met on set when he was six years old, and they grew attached over the course of filming.
After wrapping up, Jing Shun couldn’t bear to part with it. He cried for a long while holding the puppy. It was only because his father, Jing Guanhai, saw how much his son liked it that he stepped in to negotiate a purchase.
Jing Shun kept the dog’s name from the show—Nai Qiu (Milk Ball)—and raised it for twelve years.
The year he turned eighteen, Jing Shun not only suffered the blow of his parents having long since divorced and started new families, but also lost his canine companion who had been with him day and night.
The Jing Shun of the past had imagined that once his life and income were stable, he could get another dog for companionship.
Unfortunately, fate’s blow came too suddenly. In the following years, Jing Shun was busy rushing around treating his legs, and no longer had the extra energy.
After all, he could barely take care of himself—how could he afford to keep a dog?
Jing Shun took a shallow breath and asked back, “What about you, Mr. Chi? Do you like dogs?”
Chi Gui’s expression shifted slightly. He left some leeway. “It’s okay. No strong feelings.”
More than “it’s okay,” it was closer to “dislike.”
When he was a child, he had been bitten by a rabid dog in the countryside. He still bore an old scar on his left shoulder that wouldn’t fade.
Although Chi Gui had forgotten the pain of the bite, and the scar didn’t affect his normal life now, the shadow deep in his childhood memories lingered, giving him a negative impression of canines.
“Oh.”
Jing Shun responded, a faint, unwarranted disappointment seeping into his heart.
It seemed he would have to completely shelve the idea of getting a dog in the near future. After all, he was living under someone else’s roof—it would already be good enough not to cause any trouble.
Chi Gui caught the slight downturn in Jing Shun’s tone and was about to say something more when the other’s phone suddenly vibrated.
Jing Shun redirected his attention and took out his phone to check a WeChat message.
A few seconds later, he looked at Chi Gui with some hesitation. “Mr. Chi, can I go out again tomorrow afternoon?”
“Who’s looking for you?”
Chi Gui blurted out, but immediately realized he had overstepped. He added, “Nothing wrong, I hope?”
Jing Shun recalled the terms of their agreement and explained the reason. “It’s an agent I knew before, named Yu Xiuzhu. I had basically settled on an intention to sign with Brother Yu’s agency, planning to formalize the contract after the last film wrapped up.”
Unexpectedly, the sudden wrap-up led to an accident.
“After the incident, Brother Yu has been quite concerned about me. He even visited me in the hospital before, but I wasn’t in a good state then and didn’t get a chance to talk with him in detail.”
In his past life, Jing Shun, due to his own pathological negativity, had gradually drifted apart from friends like Yu Xiuzhu. Now, he wanted to change all that from the beginning.
“Brother Yu just messaged me, asking if I’m free in the next couple of days and wants to meet.”
Jing Shun finished speaking truthfully and waited quietly for four or five seconds.
When he saw that Chi Gui hadn’t said anything, he mumbled in a urge tone, “…I’ve reported it. Can I go out now?”
Chi Gui caught the low, grumbling tone at the end and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Mm, got it. I didn’t say you couldn’t go. But let Yi Ming and the others accompany you tomorrow. It’s inconvenient for you to go out alone.”
Jing Shun pinched the ear of the little dog plush and didn’t object. “Mm, alright.”
…
After a tiring afternoon, Jing Shun’s energy was completely drained. As soon as he got home, he went to his room to rest.
Chen Yiming, watching Jing Shun take the elevator upstairs, delayed asking, “Sir, do you want me to look into that agent’s background in advance?”
Chi Gui gave an almost inaudible affirmative. “As soon as possible.”
The background check didn’t need to touch on privacy—at least enough to know whether the agent named “Yu Xiuzhu” was reliable.
Chen Yiming was very efficient.
Before nine o’clock that evening, the dossier on “Yu Xiuzhu” was already placed before Chi Gui.
“Sir, Yu Xiuzhu is thirty-one years old, from the capital city. On paper, he is indeed a licensed agent. His father is the renowned director Yu Chuan, and his mother, Fang Kehui, is also a well-known producer in the industry.”
Other senior family members are involved in the arts, business, and even politics.
These were all public background details. One could say Yu Xiuzhu was a bona fide scion of the capital’s elite circle, from an excellent family.
Probably influenced by his parents, after graduating from university, Yu Xiuzhu co-founded Dingxing Studio with friends, specializing in artist management. He himself had managed several artists.
“Among them, the most famous is Xie Congjin, who has become a top-tier star in the industry in the last couple of years.”
Chi Gui turned another page of the electronic file and suddenly caught a keyword: “Money laundering?”
“Oh, yes.”
Chen Yiming emphasized. “Two years ago, Dingxing Studio was exposed for illegal money laundering through film investments. Around the same time, they terminated contracts with actors and artists, including Xie Congjin.”
“Later, police investigation revealed that these illegal activities were unrelated to Yu Xiuzhu; the problems lay with the other two partners in the studio.”
However, affected by the scandal, Yu Xiuzhu himself lay low in the industry for a while. It wasn’t until early last year that he re-established a new studio in Haishi, called Bamboo Forest Agency.
As Chen Yiming spoke, he remembered something else. “Around October last year, Young Master Jing did meet him in Hengcheng. But not long after, the accident happened on set.”
“I see.”
Chi Gui handed the tablet back. “Tomorrow, when they meet, just keep your distance and watch. Don’t get too close or disturb them. Just ensure safety.”
Chen Yiming nodded. “Understood.”
Chi Gui’s eyes flickered as he thought of another important matter. “Oh, and have Uncle Lin come up. I have something I need to ask him to handle as well.”
“Got it.”
…
The next afternoon, Bamboo Forest Agency.
The studio had only been established for a year, but its interior decoration style perfectly matched the studio’s name. Even the lounge was adorned with numerous “bamboo” elements, giving it an elegant and refined air.
“Xiao Shun, here—”
Yu Xiuzhu handed a cup of freshly brewed fruit tea to Jing Shun. “I know you don’t like coffee, so I made you some fruit tea. It’s sweet and sour. Try it.”
As his name suggested, Yu Xiuzhu’s gentlemanly demeanor radiated from within. He was always gentle, considerate, and meticulous in dealing with people. A pair of smiling eyes easily won anyone’s favor.
Jing Shun curled his lips and held the fruit tea to warm his hands. “Thanks, Brother Yu.”
Yu Xiuzhu sat down across from him. “Why be so polite with me?”
The two had actually known each other for a long time—
Back when Jing Shun had acted in a film directed by Yu Chuan, even though it was just a small supporting role with little screen time, he had unexpectedly met Yu Xiuzhu, who was visiting the set.
They were almost nine or ten years apart in age, but they got along well and had stayed in touch all these years.
“Xiao Shun, I can see you’re in much better shape than before.”
After hearing about the accident on set, Yu Xiuzhu had rushed to the hospital to visit Jing Shun, and he would check in on him via WeChat every now and then.
Jing Shun didn’t hold back. “Someone hired Professor Song’s team for me. I saw him last week for a diagnosis. There’s still hope for my legs.”
The medical team was currently discussing and formulating a surgical plan based on his specific condition.
Jing Shun had just gone for a second check-up that morning. “If things progress quickly, I might be able to have the first round of surgery by mid-next month.”
“Really? That’s great!”
Yu Xiuzhu was genuinely happy to hear this news. “If you need any help with anything later, just say the word.”
Jing Shun smiled. “Thanks, Brother Yu.”
Yu Xiuzhu took a sip of coffee, hesitating as if he had some concern.
Jing Shun noticed his hesitation. “Brother Yu, if you have something to say, just ask. You didn’t call me here today just for a casual chat, did you?”
Yu Xiuzhu smiled. “There is something I want to ask you.”
“Mm, go ahead?”
“Xiao Shun, when did you meet the chairman of Chi Group? I heard from others that you two…”
Yu Xiuzhu had a wide network and was himself a wealthy scion, so he had vaguely caught some rumors.
However, the spread of these rumors was limited. Probably because of Chi Gui’s status and position, no one dared to discuss his private affairs openly.
Jing Shun was stunned and didn’t answer for a moment.
Yu Xiuzhu saw his silence. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into your privacy.”
“Brother Yu, I am living with Chi Gui now, but it’s not convenient for me to talk about it in detail. But rest assured, I know exactly what I want and what I’m doing.”
“For me, nothing is more important than standing up again.”
Jing Shun said no more than necessary.
Yu Xiuzhu understood the boundary and changed the subject. “Mm, so what are your plans next?”
If not for that accident, Jing Shun would now be a contracted artist under his studio, led personally by him to act and strive in the industry.
Yu Xiuzhu had grown up around his renowned director father and had absorbed a lot by osmosis—
Clearly, Jing Shun had talent in performance.
Even though he had taken on so many film and television works over the years, with scripts of varying quality, Jing Shun’s spark had never been extinguished. Instead, his fundamentals had become more solid, his acting skills honed!
Their eyes met, and Jing Shun saw the regret in the other’s gaze. “Brother Yu, I’m not giving up acting.”
He had never given up on his film dreams. He loved performance, unwavering for over a decade. “If I get the chance, I want to live in front of the camera forever, to complete every role that belongs to me.”
Of course, Jing Shun also knew that until his legs fully recovered, such work opportunities would be very scarce.
Yu Xiuzhu heard his stance and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “As long as you want to, my studio’s door is always open to you. That letter of intent is still valid.”
Jing Shun felt a warmth in his heart and gathered the courage to ask, “Brother Yu, I really do want to ask for your help. Do you have any work that might suit me?”
“You want to find work?”
“Mm!”
Jing Shun answered earnestly. “Even if it’s not in front of the camera, just working behind the scenes is fine. I can do post-production editing, write scripts and storyboards, subtitle translation, and such…”
Although Chi Gui’s contractual help meant he didn’t have to worry about treatment costs or living expenses for now, the agreement would eventually expire.
Jing Shun had long passed the age of naivety. With past lessons learned, he never wanted to entrust his future to others again.
He understood that sooner or later, he would have to leave the Chi residence. When that time came, he would not only have to repay Chi Gui but also face all kinds of expenses.
Since he was alive, he needed to plan for the long term.
“Brother Yu, I want to save up some money within my means.” Jing Shun took a sip of the fruit tea, trying to suppress his lack of confidence. “If, if it could still be connected to the entertainment industry, that would be best.”
“Xiao Jing, I understand what you mean. As an actor, you really can’t go without exposure and topics for too long.” Yu Xiuzhu genuinely regarded Jing Shun as a younger brother and naturally wanted to help.
He racked his brain for a moment, and then a spark of inspiration came. “Now that you mention it, I actually do think of a show!”