Chapter 57 My Idol

Chapter 57: Daddy Dearest?

He Deye was stung by He Angxiao's words. Those words were truly harsh; a lump of anger stuck in his chest—couldn't swallow it or spit it out.

His face changed several times in an instant, going from pale to ashen, as if he had been punched in the face.

Shen Man saw things going south; she knew how to read the room. She tightened her hold on the child in her arms, who had already been fussing and crying. At her embrace, the kid suddenly started wailing like someone flipped a switch.

Shen Man scrambled to soothe him, one hand supporting the child's bottom as she bounced him, the other patting his back. Her eyes slightly lifted, and as she lowered her head to rub against the child's wet face, she shot a sidelong glance at He Angxiao: "Baby, don't cry, don't cry."

He Deye was getting really irritated by the little one's wailing. He glared at He Angxiao. After days of hitting dead ends and tossing and turning all night, this son of his, in front of his wife and younger son, had put it so bluntly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"How could you say something like that? I am your father! Is this how you talk to your old man?"

He knew damn well that this son of his had never been one for gentleness, respect, or harmony. He remembered He Angxiao hardly ever smiled as a kid. While other kids chased after adults for candy or hugs, he would sit quietly in a corner, his eyes dark and deep, looking at you as if he could see right through you.

He grew up sharp-tongued and unyielding—touch him and you'd get cut.

This son of his never said anything nice, nor could he maintain that false facade of fatherly kindness and filial piety.

But when it came down to it, being publicly humiliated like this by his own son still made him feel immensely humiliated.

He Angxiao stood in the center of the living room, tall and lean. The overhead light cast sharp shadows over the contours of his brow and nose. He wasn't the kind to keep up appearances and play nice.

He couldn't do it, and he didn't want to.

He looked at He Deye's blustering but cowardly face—familiar yet strange. A faint smile curled at the corner of He Angxiao's mouth, beautiful, but it sent chills.

"I've been showing you respect all along. Yes, you are my father—that will never change."

The only sound was the kid's hiccupping sobs.

He glanced at the simpering Shen Man beside him and spoke. "We used to keep up appearances. You would visit Grandma from time to time. For her sake, we could put on a show of peace. But the moment you sent me a picture of your son, I was completely done with your shit."

He Angxiao's tone was filled with genuine confusion: "What, did you send it specifically to show off? Show off that you've still got it? Or show off that you have a new precious son?"

What could He Deye say? Could he admit that, yes, he wanted to show this cold, uncontrollable son that even at his age, he could still enjoy the joys of family, that he still had a chubby little boy to dote on.

He didn't see anything wrong with that. His son had grown up, become an adult, his wings hardened. Maybe he'd forgotten how he was neglected as a kid. He Angxiao should learn to be tolerant and understanding—understand the difficulties of a middle-aged man starting a new family, understand that a father can also make mistakes.

"...I didn't think you still held a grudge against your father. You run such a big business now; you should have a broader mind. Why remember those irrelevant old things? Be the bigger person!"

He Angxiao let out a soft snort from his nose, full of mockery.

"No, I don't hold a grudge. I just think you're a real phony. Stop meddling in my life. Yeah, I'm petty. Whoever pisses me off, I piss them off. I've known that since I was a child."

He Deye: "At that time, I was a first-time father too. There were many things I didn't understand, and I handled them poorly..."

He Angxiao interrupted him: "And I am a first-time son too. So please be more understanding."

All of He Deye's excuses died in his throat.

Shen Man watched from the side, not daring to interrupt directly. The look He Angxiao had just given her was enough to let her know she had no say here.

She shot He Deye a pitiful, aggrieved look, opening her mouth as if to speak, then tugging at his clothes to hint that he should drop the old stories and get to the point.

Only then did He Deye swallow the anger boiling up from being humiliated by his own son: "...I'm not asking for free money. I just want to borrow some from you to tide over. Just one loan. Once I get through this crisis, I'll definitely pay you back."

He Angxiao: "Then you should come to the company. The board at Xiaoheng has a process. You first need to provide your company's financial statements to prove that your company still has the ability to repay, that its assets are in good condition, and that it's not clearly insolvent. If it meets the risk control standards, then we can talk."

He spoke methodically, leaving no gaps.

If He Deye could swallow his pride and go through the proper channels, or beg the bank, he wouldn't have come crawling to He Angxiao's house. The reason he had bypassed the company, lawyers, and all normal business routes was precisely to use the father-son relationship to solve this crisis.

"Are you just going to let me drown? I am your biological father! You're just going to watch your father's company go bankrupt?"

He Angxiao's expression was cold and stern, his words deliberate: "Did I say I wouldn't help? I told you to go back and pull the company's financial statements, follow the process. If you don't know how, have your secretary look up the basic loan procedures for a company. Or are you just trying to score free money?"

Getting something for nothing, or taking a low-interest loan that doesn't need to be repaid, backed by a personal guarantee—his scheme was exposed.

He Deye's old face flushed crimson, turning from beet red to purple.

He had lived half his life relying on that face—the face of "Chairman He" that commanded respect.

He couldn't bring himself to beg like he would at a bank, to lay out his entire financial situation, all the bad debts and bad accounts, on the table for his son to scrutinize and assess.

Shen Man felt that if she didn't speak now, this last lifeline would slip through her fingers. She shoved the still-sobbing child into He Deye's arms. The child, suddenly handed over, twisted uncomfortably and cried even louder.

He Deye fumbled to take him, awkwardly patting the child's back.

Shen Man stepped forward, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"President He, we came to you because we're truly at our wit's end. I know you hate seeing me and Angze, that you see us as outsiders who destroyed the relationship between you and your father." Her eyes reddened as she spoke, though there were no real tears. "But he is still your father after all. Can you really watch your own father fall into trouble and not lift a finger to help?"

He Angxiao looked at the pair still putting on a show, his patience exhausted: "I hate this kind of beating around the bush and pretending to be dumb. What exactly do you want?"

Shen Man: "If you could lend us some money personally to tide us over, we'll pay it back. You're a He, after all—we're all one family."

A He. What a remarkable golden signboard.

He Angxiao: "...I could also take my mother's surname."

He Deye: "Ah Man, forget it! Let's go! From now on, I'll pretend I don't have this son!"

But Shen Man didn't move. If He Deye had any other solution, he would have thought of it long ago.

He Angxiao: "Sometimes, I really don't want to acknowledge you as my father. Why is it always the woman by your side who speaks for you?"

When He Angxiao's mother proposed a divorce, He Deye initially disagreed. Not because he loved her and couldn't bear to let go, but simply because he didn't want to divorce. He played the victim, needing someone else to push him into signing the papers. He Angxiao was also raised by his grandmother on behalf of He Deye.

Sometimes He Angxiao felt his father was like a useless scoundrel, hiding behind women, letting them clean up his mess.

And now it was the same again.

This Shen Man, in her high heels, holding the child, came here to beg for him, to make a fool of herself for him, to say the words he couldn't say himself.

He Deye would always need a woman to stand in front of him.

He Angxiao: "You want money? Sorry, but I have a family now. So how the household money is spent depends on someone else's opinion."

He slightly turned his head, waving toward Chi Luoxi: "Come here."

Chi Luoxi had been hiding by the stairs, listening, only half his head visible.

When Chi Luoxi saw He Angxiao wave him over, he shuffled reluctantly to stand by He Angxiao's side.

He Angxiao watched him sidle over and put an arm around Chi Luoxi's waist: "The money in our family—I don't manage it."

Upon hearing this, Chi Luoxi puffed out his chest and declared loudly: "All the money in our family is with me!"

He Deye had originally thought that no matter how cold his son was, he was still his flesh and blood—bone may break, but the sinews still connect. But he never imagined He Angxiao would already be married, and that another man held the purse strings.

"Are you living with a man? Does your mother know? Look at you—clearly he's just after your money."

Chi Luoxi: "Uncle, He Angxiao is an adult. Why should he tell his mother who he's with? That's his choice."

Shen Man: "Old He, calm down. Angxiao, don't mind us butting in—this one's obviously after the He family fortune. I've seen plenty like him."

Chi Luoxi looked at the old-young couple of He Deye and Shen Man, and said to Shen Man very sincerely: "But didn't you marry Uncle for his money? Why else would you marry someone so much older? And... Uncle doesn't seem to have much money."

He Deye and Shen Man were totally stunned.

Damn, that was brutal.

He Angxiao really wanted to laugh at that, but he held it in.

He Deye, holding the kid, said to Shen Man, "Let's get out of here." The two of them scurried off with the kid.

After they left, He Angxiao finally noticed the gifts He Deye had brought. He told Su Yi to toss them or keep them.

He Angxiao undid his top button with his fingers, walked to the sofa, and sat down, sinking into the soft leather. The more he thought about it, the funnier it seemed: "Baby, you're even more savage with your tongue than I am."

Chi Luoxi looked at He Angxiao's expression, sat close to him, and leaned in: "I was just getting back at them for you, babe. Is your dad gonna come back?"

He was afraid He Deye, pissed off even more, might come back and pull something even nastier.

He Angxiao: "Whatever. Next time, don't let him in."

Chi Luoxi: "I let them in today because I was afraid he'd start talking nonsense outside, badmouthing you. That would hurt your reputation. And the kid they were holding was crying the whole time."

He was genuinely afraid that if He Deye was turned away, he'd start spreading rumors at the door about how unfilial and heartless He Angxiao was, which would damage his reputation.

He Angxiao pulled Chi Luoxi closer, letting him lean more comfortably against his chest, and said in a low voice: "I know him—his pride is sky-high. Today I gave him a choice. Either borrow money from Xiaoheng according to the rules, with transparency and company risk control. Or go back and keep dreaming. I won't lend him money personally. I can support him, out of that half-blood bond, for his old age and funeral. But I will never support his son or his woman. If he's old and incapable, he should stay put and not stir up trouble. If he insists on stirring up trouble..."

"I'm not his cleanup crew."

Chi Luoxi nodded.

He Angxiao lowered his head and kissed Chi Luoxi's forehead: "You've gotten so fierce now. I don't dare to mess with you anymore."

Chi Luoxi smiled smugly: "Honey, I'll protect you."

"Good boy."

He Angxiao pressed his forehead against Chi Luoxi's, their breaths mingling: "I used to think nothing in this world truly belonged to me. If Grandma left someday, I'd be alone. But now there's you, Chi Luoxi. Just you belong to me."

He tightened his arms, pulling Chi Luoxi even closer, as if to meld him into his own flesh and blood, making him a part of himself.

Chi Luoxi blinked: "Was I being a bad little radish just now?"

He felt kinda bad about not being nicer.

He Angxiao reached out with his thumb and forefinger, gently pinched his cheeks, squishing his excessively pretty face slightly, making his lips pout.

He let out a low laugh, full of affection: "You look bad and beautiful at the same time."

Arrogant.

"But honestly, you're a little dumb."

Chi Luoxi: "...??"

Eventually He Deye did go to Xiaoheng, only about four or five days later. He'd probably gone back and begged everyone he knew, exhausted every option, only to find that besides the path He Angxiao had laid out for him, he had no other way.

That path might lack human warmth, but at least it was a path. So he swallowed his pride and humbled himself.

Even father and son settle accounts—common in business, no big deal.

Whenever money was involved, biological relatives tearing at each other was not unusual. Put a ledger between family, and that thin bond of affection turns as flimsy as tissue paper—one poke and it tears.

On the day he came to sign the contract, the weather wasn't great. He Angxiao's office was on the top floor of the Xiaoheng building, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over half of Jiangzhou's skyline—a testament to the empire He Angxiao had built himself.

He Deye couldn't help feeling like he was really getting old.

He Deye sat on that big leather sofa with two copies of the contract in front of him, a thick stack. He Angxiao sat across from him in a relaxed posture.

The contract was signed—it was time to leave.

But He Deye didn't get up right away. He sat there, hands on his knees, lips moving then pressing together, looking at He Angxiao: "That... person of yours..."

He couldn't bring himself to say "boyfriend," too improper. "Live-in" was too formal. Just a kept man.

He Deye glossed over it and went straight to his point: "...I really don't know if you've been bewitched. That one... he came from a hostess club, not a good person. CEO Wang told me he has a violent streak. You'll regret it when he's cleaned you out. Finding a girlfriend and starting a family is what's important."

He said it in a tone he thought was for his son's own good.

He Angxiao's voice was flat: "CEO Wang? Wang Ye said that?"

He remembered that guy well. Back then, Wang Ye's dirty deeds, his shady secrets—it was He Angxiao who had them leaked to his wife. The wife had caused a huge uproar, and Wang Ye's life had been miserable for a while. He'd settled down since—at least on the surface.

Seems like this Wang Ye's life was still too easy, too much leisure to gossip. He Angxiao made a mental note.

He Angxiao leaned back in his chair and tilted his head slightly: "Ah, I really owe some people a thank-you. Otherwise, how would I have met my true love?"

He Deye stared at him. He saw that expression on He Angxiao's face—unmoved, unyielding, not even bothering to argue. Talking to He Angxiao was like throwing eggs at a rubber wall—either they bounced back and hit him in the face, or they splattered everywhere.

He finally got it—this son of his was a lost cause.

But He Angxiao wasn't done. As He Deye stood up, he added calmly: "I am going to get married. But my baby's still in school, so it'll be a few years. Don't worry—since you're my father, I'll make sure to invite you."

After getting shown up by his son, He Deye went home, seething with a nameless anger. So he went to his old buddies—decades-long friends.

After a few drinks, he started venting. He said Angxiao had been bewitched by some demon, some little fiend that had crawled out of nowhere, stolen his soul. He said the guy was a gold-digger from a hostess bar, crafty, climbing up by stepping on people, and had already wormed his way into Xiaoheng and even controlled the family's money.

Word eventually got back to He Angxiao through the grapevine. Meng Xuan told him, sounding like he was enjoying the gossip.

He Angxiao figured these people were a weird mix of old-fashioned and degenerate. Those uncles and elders were all wild in private but acted holier-than-thou in public. Sometimes they'd even scold He Angxiao, asking how he could be so open with that kind of person.

So He Angxiao threw a lavish birthday bash for Chi Luoxi.

The scale was insane. He booked a whole hotel estate, lined the path with flowers—air-freighted—white, pink, and champagne—and piled high with Ecuadorian roses.

At the entrance stood a floral wall two stories high, with Chi Luoxi's initials spelled out in roses of different reds. The guests were all big names in Jiangzhou—business leaders and some faces he almost recognized.

Gifts piled up like a small mountain by the entrance, beautifully wrapped, designer logos glinting under the lights like a mini luxury expo.

Chi Luoxi had been dolled up from head to toe by a stylist, wearing a white silk button-up. Standing in the middle of that sea of flowers and lights, he looked stunning. When it came time to cut the cake, He Angxiao stood beside him, a hand on the small of his back. The cake was half as tall as a person, covered in carrot shapes of all sizes, pure white fondant with gold leaf. When the knife cut in, the cream parted smoothly to reveal the layered cake inside.

Cameras clicked and popped in rapid succession, flashes merging into a continuous glow, illuminating Chi Luoxi’s slightly flushed face.

And so, Chi Luoxi did become a bit of a minor sensation, turning into gossip in He Angxiao’s tight-knit private circle.

After a while, He Angxiao took him out to play golf.

Chi Luoxi was sipping his drink when someone hesitantly approached.

It was a young man, fashionably dressed, with a sparkling diamond-studded watch on his wrist, his face wearing a look of flattery, admiration, and barely suppressed curiosity.

He looked at Chi Luoxi as if gazing upon a legend he had only ever heard of but was now finally seeing in person: “You’re… Chi Luoxi, right?”

Chi Luoxi looked up and nodded.

The man’s eyes instantly lit up, like a fan finally meeting his idol in the flesh. He pulled out a pen and a small, exquisite notebook from his pocket, holding them out to Chi Luoxi: “Can you give us your autograph? Can you tell us how you climbed the social ladder? Idol, you’re the role model for us gold diggers.”

Chi Luoxi: “…………”

He was stunned for a moment before slowly pulling the straw out of his mouth, staring at the eager, sincere face before him.

Well, bad news always travels faster than good news.

Chi Luoxi: “…We’re genuinely in love.”

The man replied with total admiration: “I know, man – you’re my idol.”

Chi Luoxi: “…………”

What Chi Luoxi didn’t know was that his public reputation had become that of a little gold digger who crawled his way up from the bottom of a club, a legend who managed to land a rich bachelor.

Even more absurdly, Chi Luoxi later found out that the gold-digging course he briefly taught but barely attended was using him as their poster boy.

They claimed that he had taken their courses, learned their core techniques, and landed a big fish like He Angxiao.

Most people in this world probably only believe in one kind of story: the fantasy of stumbling upon a prince charming out of the blue one ordinary afternoon, instantly hitting the top and turning their life around—willing to believe in shortcuts, a copy-and-paste playbook for climbing the social ladder.

But few bother to explore the depth of another person’s soul or bend down to listen to their voice.

After all, such a story is far less thrilling than a gold digger’s rise to glory.

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Author’s note: Little Radish: And now I’m a real celebrity.