Chapter 71

Chapter 71

After class, Gu Yubai headed to the academic affairs office before it closed.

Just as Lin Xuyan had mentioned, all other entrepreneurial center studios were operating smoothly. Only Gu Yubai’s studio, along with those of a few seniors, faced relentless bureaucratic hurdles. Previously submitted documents were rejected outright, with no grace period given. The office staff repeatedly cited that the school leadership’s review deadline had passed, telling Gu Yubai and the others to accept their misfortune and try again next semester.

It was clear they had offended someone.

Fortunately, Gu Yubai had never heavily relied on the school’s support. His reasons for setting up in the school’s entrepreneurial center were twofold: first, to leverage the school’s supportive policies, and second, to benefit from the convenient location and the significant savings on rent, utilities, and other miscellaneous expenses.

The inheritance from his adoptive father, Gu Mingliang, was sufficient to cover several years of medical and living expenses. Gu Yubai had initially planned to use a portion of these funds to support the studio, expecting that once it began to turn a steady profit, any initial losses would naturally be recouped.

Now, with the school blocking their path, while it was an unforeseen setback, it didn’t result in substantial losses.

With Old Master Su’s sudden early distribution of assets, Gu Yubai promptly instructed an agent to purchase an entire commercial floor in a nearby business district.

The seniors from the studio relocated there, effectively starting their internships ahead of schedule.

Gu Yubai then established two additional teams to focus on different game projects, transforming the studio into a small, albeit not yet profitable, company, thus officially embarking on its commercialization journey.

During this period, the overseas specialists promised by Old Master Su arrived as scheduled. Gu Yubai and Gu Yihong accompanied them to the military hospital. Later, acting on their advice, they arranged for his adoptive father to be transferred to a more convenient and accessible specialized rehabilitation center overseas.

Gu Yihong assumed the overseas experts were introduced by Yu Li and raised no objections. However, he did frown when he informed Gu Yubai that he had taken on a part-time role as a consultant for an established internet company.

Gu Yihong was quite proud: “I applied online myself. The moment I started eloquently discussing the future development of domestic enterprises over the next decade, they treated me like a god, as if they had found a rare treasure!”

As a result, his part-time earnings were substantial.

Gu Yihong immediately transferred his first week’s consultant salary to Gu Yubai—a staggering 100,000 yuan.

Gu Yihong said, “I’ll give all the money to you later, brother.”

Gu Mingliang’s overseas rehabilitation was costly. Even though Gu Yihong knew their family had considerable savings, valuable properties, cars, and other investments, he still felt Gu Yubai might be stretching his finances.

His brother’s studio had yet to turn a profit, and even the current office space was likely rented or funded by his boyfriend, Yu Li.

Gu Yihong couldn’t bear to see his older brother struggle alone and wanted to contribute in whatever way he could while balancing his studies.

Given his past life’s experience, working part-time at a milk tea shop or as a tutor would be a waste of his talents. Instead, Gu Yihong strategically targeted several companies and successfully landed consulting roles by leveraging the knowledge and business insights from his previous life.

Gu Yubai smiled faintly, but didn’t tell Gu Yihong that he wasn’t actually struggling financially. He accepted the money and left 20,000 yuan for Gu Yihong.

He said, “Alright, consider this your investment in my company. I’ll give you dividends later.”

Yu Li had long known about Old Master Su’s approach and hadn’t breathed a word of it to Gu Yihong. He smirked mysteriously at his future brother-in-law, who had always been competitive with him.

He thought to himself, *I’ll give you a real scare one day.*

Though Gu Yihong didn’t know about Yu Li’s scheming, he also didn’t pay much attention to his brother’s relationship with Yu Li.

He only occasionally complained that since the semester started, he’d been so busy with classes and his part-time job that he rarely had time to spend alone with his older brother outside of Sundays. Even when they did go out together, there was always an unwanted third wheel around.

Yu Li: “...”

Funny, he felt the same way—Gu Yihong was the unwanted third wheel.

Before they knew it, half the semester had passed.

During this time, Su Shengli participated in Director Zhang’s new film. For a few days, social media was flooded with promotional content praising Su Shengli’s “innate talent.” Unfortunately, despite the hefty marketing budget and the hype generated by armies of paid commentators, the film crashed and burned spectacularly upon release.

Online opinions shifted multiple times—from confusion over why a film with so many popular and skilled actors failed to meet expectations, to doubts about whether Director Zhang had lost his touch, to speculation about entertainment companies pulling strings to insert unqualified actors. Soon, a cryptic remark from a male actor redirected public attention to the film’s only newcomer—Su Shengli.

Su Shengli, who had previously purchased hashtags for mundane activities like eating hotpot with classmates, now suffered blowback.

“I knew it—what kind of acting skills could a freshman just admitted to film school possibly have? I didn’t think his performance was anything special when I watched the movie, but seeing all the exaggerated praise online almost made me doubt my own judgment.”

“Ugh, why is this guy always trending? If he’s a student, shouldn’t he be focusing on learning how to act from his professors? How did such amateurish performance even make it to the big screen?”

“I’ve heard about this guy—he’s some rich young master who’ll inherit a fortune if he doesn’t make it as an actor. Maybe he doesn’t care about acting but just wants that sweet celebrity paycheck!” (Note: "208" is Chinese internet slang referring to the high daily earnings of celebrities.)

....

Whether it was because the Su Group was new to the entertainment industry or because there were internal issues in the agency specifically created for Su Shengli, the damage control was delayed. It wasn’t until the next day that they took action, heavy-handedly purging all negative comments about Su Shengli’s acting.

Su Shengli himself didn’t issue a single public statement.

This heavy-handed approach only fueled the rumors, giving credence to the speculation.

It felt like the box office failure was pinned solely on this privileged newcomer who had landed the role through connections.

Unlike other industries, no amount of capital in the entertainment world can muzzle public discourse.

However, soon after, a heartfelt apology video from Su Shengli regarding the film’s performance was released online, and public sentiment quickly shifted. Many praised him for owning up to mistakes and showing accountability, rather than shifting blame.

The online narrative soon unified around giving newcomers more chances and not being too harsh on them.

Su Linyuan only learned about the online public spectacle surrounding Su Shengli days after it had settled. With numerous projects under his responsibility at the company headquarters, the fact that he noticed the public opinion at all showed how much he doted on his younger brother.

He immediately had his secretary order the latest sneakers and anime figurines for Su Shengli and instructed the secretary to hand-deliver them personally to Su Shengli’s apartment off-campus.

Yes, although all universities in Ming City required freshmen to live on campus during their first semester, Su Shengli had taken leave after less than two months to film the movie. After returning for finals, he moved off-campus directly.

The film school’s advisor, after being 'persuaded' with gifts, approved his off-campus living request under the pretext of avoiding paparazzi disrupting campus life due to Su Shengli’s fame.

Unconsciously, Su Shengli’s public image had evolved from a shallow socialite image to that of a familiar celebrity in the eyes of netizens.

----

When Su Linyuan’s secretary arrived at Su Shengli’s off-campus residence with gifts from overseas, he rang the doorbell repeatedly—but it wasn’t Su Shengli who answered. Instead, it was Zhou Jiarou, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Zhou Jiarou’s hair hung loose, and her face was oddly flushed. She was apron-clad, and the sound of a roaring exhaust fan came from the kitchen, along with the smell of soy-braised chicken wings.

Su Linyuan’s secretary froze for a moment before recovering. Craning his neck to look inside, he asked politely,

“Mrs. Zhou, is Young Master Shengli home? These are gifts from the eldest son, which he asked me to hand-deliver to Young Master Shengli.”

The secretary smiled courteously while scanning the visible area of the apartment.

Zhou Jiarou instinctively blocked the doorway, looking guilty.

Noticing her discomfort, the secretary’s lips curled slightly.

Just then, an unfamiliar middle-aged man’s gruff voice came from inside:

“Who is it? If it’s a delivery, just sign for it and close the door! The food’s about to burn!”

The slap of house slippers against the floor followed, and Zhou Jiarou’s smile became forced.

A stocky and tan middle-aged man appeared at the door. When he saw the secretary, he recoiled instinctively, his face betraying panic.

“Wh-who are you looking for?”

Su Linyuan's secretary shot him a thoughtful look, keeping a faint smile on his face.

"I'm here to deliver a gift."

Liao Anyang immediately relaxed.

The guy looked too young—probably had no ties to the Su family's inner circle.

Collecting himself, he glared fiercely at Zhou Jiarou before grinning and reaching out to take the gift from Su Linyuan's secretary.

"This is for my neph... The Su family sure is wealthy, huh?"

Liao Anyang mumbled through the familial term, glancing up to see the young man seemingly oblivious to anything amiss. He then brusquely gestured for Zhou Jiarou to close the door.

Zhou Jiarou mustered a weak smile at Su Linyuan's secretary before shutting the door, cutting off all contact between inside and out.

Su Linyuan's secretary turned away slowly, catching a glimpse of someone peering through the peephole as he did. He immediately played it cool and walked away from the door.

Inside, Liao Anyang slapped Zhou Jiarou hard across the face.

"You useless bitch! Keeping you around as a maid to cook for me is already mercy! How could you be so sloppy—you nearly exposed me!"

Zhou Jiarou's eyes welled with tears as she pitifully covered her face in shame, not daring to make a sound.

Still uneasy, Liao Anyang called Su Shengli to report the visitor. Upon learning it was only Su Linyuan's secretary and not Su Linyuan or another Su family member, Su Shengli waved it off.

"No issue. Su Linyuan's secretary often brings me gifts. He doesn’t pay attention to anything else and won’t gossip to others."

But this time, Su Shengli was wrong.

After leaving the neighborhood, Su Linyuan's secretary waited several hours before another group arrived with equipment.

As Su Linyuan's secretary, how could he not smell something fishy?

Zhou Jiarou was one thing—he knew she was Su Shengli's mother in name only, so her living there to care for her son made sense.

But that arrogant, rough-mannered middle-aged man clearly didn't give a damn about Zhou Jiarou.

The way he acted suggested the man believed himself closer to Su Shengli than Zhou Jiarou was.

He couldn’t be Zhou Jiarou’s husband—Su Linyuan's secretary didn't know all the Su family's dirty laundry, but he knew Zhou Jiarou’s husband was imprisoned for gambling.

So... who was he?

The secretary reported the incident and his suspicions to Su Linyuan. Coincidentally, the Su family’s old butler overheard and his eyes gleamed.

The butler immediately relayed the news to Old Master Su.

"Old Master, the gardener who fled the Su estate years ago may have resurfaced."

"I’ve arranged for someone to approach Young Master Shengli’s residence. Once photos confirm his identity, we can alert the authorities!"

Old Master Su shot to his feet, his eyes burning with intensity as if reigniting the last embers of his life.

"Good!"

His chest heaved violently, his body trembling uncontrollably. The butler swiftly administered medicine, fitted him with an oxygen tube, and laid him on the sofa.

Wheezing, Old Master Su fixed his gaze at the ornate ceiling, tears silently cutting tracks through his wrinkles.

Exhausted, he closed his eyes, taking a long while to steady himself.

When he rose again, he discarded his cane, standing straight as if years had fallen away.

"My dear... your justice comes at last."

The wail of police sirens split the night like a thunderclap. News of a murderer, missing for over a decade, resurfacing shocked Mingcheng’s political circles.

----

Su Shengli jolted awake as his phone rang.

He answered to a panicked voice:

"Get Liao Anyang out now! The Su family knows he’s with you!"

The call ended abruptly.

Frozen for a heartbeat, Su Shengli shot up and rushed to Liao Anyang’s room, pounding on the door.

"Who is it?"

A sleep-thick voice answered after what felt like forever. Out of patience, Su Shengli slammed his foot against the door.

"Someone reported seeing you here! Get out before the police come—I can’t explain this!"

In blind panic, Liao Anyang fumbled into clothes, not even tying his shoes before flinging open the door and leaping out the window.

A howl of pain rang out from below—clearly, the fall hadn’t been pretty.

Su Shengli peered into the darkness, watching Liao Anyang vanish before frantically ripping out the surveillance footage and flushing it down the toilet.

Only then did some tension leave his shoulders.

Returning to the living room, he noticed Zhou Jiarou sitting stunned on the rumpled sheets, hand pressed to her heart as if confused by the sudden absence.

Su Shengli's eyes burned with contempt. "Shut your mouth. You'd better know exactly what to say—and what to keep to yourself."

Spotting Liao Anyang’s clothes, he balled them up and shoved them into a storage room.

Soon, sirens wailed as cop cars screeched up.

Su Shengli, puffing a cigarette on the sixth-floor terrace, waited as officers worked their way up.

Ten minutes later, a knock came. He pasted on an annoyed expression and opened the door.

"What kind of asshole knocks at this hour—?"

The cold muzzles of guns met him. His heart pounded; despite his preparations, pure terror gripped him.

"The hell is this?"

The lead officer was stern. "We got a call that you’re harboring a murderer."

Before Su Shengli could get a word out, he was slammed face-first into the floorboards.

Zhou Jiarou was yanked out, shaking like a leaf. When police found a man's phone on the bed, she screamed like a banshee.

"I confess! A murderer was hiding here! He forced me to cook and warm his bed—he hit me! I’m innocent—!"

Under the weight of all those eyes, she fainted.