Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Fu Xie: (No reply)

Li Junyuan: You finally replied! You need to fly to X City—the show starts filming tomorrow.

Fu Xie: When did I say I was going?

Li Junyuan: You’re making things hard for Yansheng? Yansheng is our brainchild. You know its origins better than anyone. Right now, the company can’t sustain itself with just you alone.

Li Junyuan: Besides, you’re nominally a longtime shareholder of the company. You’ll get what’s owed to you.

Reading Li Junyuan’s pie-in-the-sky talk, Fu Xie felt a wave of disgust. Did he really think Fu Xie hadn’t checked the original owner’s assets when investigating his background?

Aside from some savings from odd jobs, the original owner didn’t own a single share in Yansheng. Li Junyuan had pretended to offer them before, even going so far as planting a fake romantic rival to provoke the original owner, who then angrily declared he’d give up the shares.

But to maintain his generous persona, Li Junyuan still referred to the original owner as a “shareholder” in the company, dangling the promise that he’d hand over the shares “whenever he was ready.”

Touched, the original owner immediately took on several backbreaking gigs to boost the company’s revenue, cheerfully letting the company skim eighty percent.

Fu Xie found it baffling. That was real money! To throw it all away for a worthless playboy—what a total doormat.

He continued typing: Why call me a shareholder? Am I one? Give me half the company’s shares, and then I’ll consider it.

This was an outrageous demand, but Fu Xie didn’t actually expect to get even a cent out of the scumbag.

As expected, the other side fell silent. After a long pause, a message finally came through: You were the one who said you didn’t want them back then. But right now, the company’s books are tight. I can’t give them to you immediately. Just give me a little more time, okay? Little Xie.

The term “Little Xie” nearly made Fu Xie gag.

His fingers jabbed at the screen as he typed out the scathing “heh heh,” followed by a mocking yellow smiley emoji.

Li Junyuan, being young, obviously understood the implication. Used to being worshipped by the original owner, he finally showed signs of irritation.

Li Junyuan: Fu Xie, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. You still have a year left on your contract with me. If you don’t fulfill your obligations, you’ll have to pay the penalty—$10M.

Li Junyuan: Can you afford that? Oh, right. You could always beg Xi Wenlun. Let’s see if he’d give $10 million to someone he’s only known for a few days.

Now it was Fu Xie’s turn to fall silent.

How was a D-lister like him supposed to cough up that kind of cash? Thank goodness the original owner hadn’t signed a ten-year contract—otherwise, he’d be stuck working off debt for a decade while still young.

Not that he wasn’t already in debt.

Fu Xie started to get a headache. Did he really have to go? Just to be a punching bag for Main Bottom and his teammates?

And for someone with social anxiety like him, the entertainment industry—where he’d have to perform in front of strangers—was absolute torture.

Sensing Fu Xie’s hesitation, Li Junyuan gloated: Nothing to say now? Weren’t you so confident earlier?

Fu Xie sifted through the original owner’s files, searching for the signed contract.

Since it bore Li Junyuan’s handwriting, the original owner had kept it in a prominently filed folder. Fu Xie found it quickly and scrutinized every word.

Fu Xie: So if I don’t participate in any entertainment activities, I have to pay you $10M in penalties?

Li Junyuan: Is this your first time reading the contract?

Fu Xie had spent ten minutes carefully dissecting every clause and realized that when the contract was signed, Li Junyuan was still wet behind the ears. He’d been so focused on tricking Fu Xie into signing a predatory deal that he’d forgotten to specify this particular condition.

Judging by Li Junyuan's expression, he hadn't noticed this. Combined with the original host’s behavior that had made him let his guard down, Fu Xie saw an opportunity to take advantage.

Fu Xie: No big deal. I’ll go to the events.

Li Junyuan thought Fu Xie had given in. Seizing the moment, he sent over a bunch of PUA crap. Fu Xie didn’t even bother reading it—he just blocked him right away and unpinned the conversation.

He paused for a moment before opening the account of Xi Wenlun, the one he’d pestered for the contact info earlier that morning. The username was a string of English letters, and the profile picture was a plain white pic.

Thinking back to the brutal shutdown of his vacation idea last time, Fu Xie decided to check where Xi Wenlun stood first.

Fu Xie: President Xi, can I participate in entertainment industry activities?

After a long wait, Xi Wenlun finally replied: Yes.

Then he immediately forwarded a business card.

Xi Wenlun: Contact him for matters.

Fu Xie got the hint—*stop bugging me.*

Ugh, why so frosty? Your boy comes calling, and you won’t even answer.

But Fu Xie wasn’t about to get tangled up with some unfamiliar guy either, so he shrugged it off and shot a quick add to the recommended contact.

FH: Hello, are you Mr. Fu? I’m Fang Hou, an agent under the Xi Group.

Fu Xie: Yes, hello, Mr. Fang.

*Wait, does the Xi Group have an entertainment company too?* Fu Xie recalled from the novel that the Xi Group was a huge conglomerate dominating multiple industries, so naturally owning an entertainment company made sense.

Fang Hou was clearly an experienced agent, well-versed in film, TV, and music alike. He even offered to whip up a plan to make Fu Xie famous.

Fang Hou: I’ve reviewed your background, Mr. Fu. Your qualities are exceptional even by entertainment standards—if you’re game...

Fu Xie: Wait, does that mean I’ll be working all day and night?

Dead air.

Fang Hou: If you want to become a top-tier star with both talent and popularity, it’s unavoidable.

Fu Xie, a total introvert and lazy bum, wasn’t about to deal with cameras and flashing lights everywhere. He just wanted to slack off: Then forget it.

Fang Hou: ...

Fu Xie: I’ve got my eye on a variety show. Just squeeze me in—no need to replace anyone. I’ll show my face and dip.

From his prior research, he found a slow-paced lifestyle reality show. It basically involved guests eating and drinking in a scenic location, yet it totally blew up as soon as it aired, becoming an S+ hit.

The main cast included household names, while guest appearances ranged from seasoned actors to current heartthrobs.

Fang Hou: That’s easy. A product from a Xi Group subsidiary is a sponsor. There’s a top-tier guest coming in next episode—you can piggyback on the buzz and get some camera love.

Fang Hou: But first, you’ll need to shoot an endorsement. Should I tell the subsidiary to schedule it based on your availability? Tomorrow?

Fu Xie wanted to get things done fast so he could go home and sleep. He groaned as he typed: The earlier, the better. Tomorrow or the day after works.

Fang Hou replied after a short delay: Then the day after tomorrow. The shoot’s in City A.

After confirming the details with Fang Hou, Fu Xie hadn’t even started working yet but already felt completely drained. He tossed his phone aside and opened a game to zone out.

*

By the time the shoot day arrived, Fu Xie still looked completely drained.

Fang Hou, a man who seemed warm and approachable, came to pick him up. Fu Xie knew this man was definitely not as easygoing as he seemed—otherwise, how could he have climbed the ranks in the ruthless entertainment biz?

Under Fang Hou’s guidance, Fu Xie smoothly entered the subsidiary to film this installment’s ad campaign.

Frozen under the spotlight, Fu Xie remained stiff despite his mental preparation. Facing so many unfamiliar staff members, his social anxiety kicked in hard.

The photographer across from him coaxed Fu Xie in a soothing voice, asking him to hold the product and pose. But Fu Xie’s mind went totally blank—he couldn’t process anything, just clutched the item and shrank back.

The photographer glanced helplessly at Fang Hou, who frowned and said, “Just roll with it.”

“Huh? But—”

“The CEO handpicked him,” Fang Hou shot him a sidelong look.

Left with no choice, the photographer bit the bullet and took a few frames of Fu Xie as he was.

The blinding strobe lights pulsed before Fu Xie’s eyes—he had never been exposed to such prolonged flashes before. Instinctively, he raised a hand to shield his face.

This only made the photographer’s headache worse. How were they supposed to shoot anything if his face was covered? But given Fu Xie’s connections, he couldn’t lose his temper on the spot. “Mr. Fu, thank you for your hard work. We’ll wrap up here for today.”

Fu Xie let out a shaky breath, then immediately turned and dashed to the green room before Fang Hou could catch up.

The staff sighed in resignation—finally, they’d managed to serve this diva. A photography assistant huddled close to the photographer and whispered, “What do we do? These are all duds. What are we supposed to submit to the higher-ups?”

The photographer silently flipped through the images on his camera, and the assistant leaned in to see just how bad they were.

After just one glance, the assistant froze in place.

The product being promoted was bedding, so the backdrop featured a large, upright bed. Fu Xie had been leaning against it while posing for the shoot.

In the frame, the ethereal youth hunched inward, hugging a fluffy pillow to his chest. He wore loose sleepwear, his slender, pale legs draped over the pillow, one slightly in front of the other.

His slight turn had accidentally hiked up his shirt, revealing a teasing sliver of his toned waist.

The bent-knee posture accentuated the lush swell of his backside, while the soft flesh of his inner thighs pressed against the already-short sleep shorts, stretching them taut.

One could almost imagine sinking teeth into that yielding skin—how it would tremble, how tongue would drag over teeth, leaving faint marks behind.

And that wasn’t even mentioning Fu Xie’s heart-stoppingly gorgeous face. His bedroom eyes gazed vaguely at the camera, cheeks flushed with discomfort, lips a kissable pink that invited fantasies of a stolen kiss.

Even the shots where he covered his eyes with his hand were mesmerizing—they didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest. Instead, they created a teasing allure, like a veiled mystery.

The assistant stared at the photos, nearly entranced. He swallowed hard and murmured, “This is… next-level.”

The other staff members exchanged odd looks. Given the circumstances, shouldn’t these all be unusable rejects? In the past, whenever a nepo hire came through, they’d put on a polite front, only to curse them out the moment they left.

So why weren’t these two complaining today? Why were they praising him instead?

Curious, the others gathered around to look.

“Holy shit, this is incredible! Absolutely flawless!”

“I never expected him to be so photogenic! Even when we direct supermodels, it’s hard to get results this good!”

“Wow, this could easily rank among our team’s best work this year!”

The photographer was thrilled. He’d been stuck in a slump for a long time, barely scraping by on technical skill alone to keep the studio afloat.

He’d assumed shooting the CEO’s golden boy would be a nightmare, with the agent breathing down his neck and the results inevitably mediocre. But reality had surpassed all expectations!

He felt as if he’d broken through his block, reaching new heights!

As the photographer happily adjusted the photos, a sudden worry struck him. The subsidiary’s boss was a middle-aged man—what if he deemed the artistic shots too unconventional and demanded a reshoot?