The Last X - 56 5.2

Sun Ri’s brow creased slightly, his expression faintly contemptuous as he gazed after the disappearing figure of that actor.

If he remembered correctly, he should be Xiang Kai, the youth that Ziyue had recommended for this extra role because they had formerly attended the same college. Despite giving in to his senior’s incessant pleas, however, Ziyue had warned Sun Ri that this young man was somewhat infamous for his cold-blooded disposition, he seemed to be known for climbing into whatever bed it took to land a part.

Sun Ri was sure that if even the kind Ziyue said such a thing, this Xiang Kai was beyond redemption. Probably, the scheming man had intentionally performed those flashy moves to attract his interest since it was common knowledge that he admired powerful actors who didn’t need stunt doubles, but Xiang Kai had overestimated himself. What kind of impressive shows had this Sun Ri not seen before? There was no way that he’d be tempted so easily.

Nevertheless, he had to admit that the man was extremely beautiful, his skin glowing like a beam of icy moonlight, and with his light pink lips, the contrast between his pale coloring and his pitch-black, curly hair formed an austere picture. The severe atmosphere around him was only relieved by his mesmerizingly fathomless eyes and the alluring little mole beneath his eye, together they provoked an intense desire to cause ripples in those calm waters. Taking into account his distinctive aura, it was even harder to believe the drastic change that had come over Xiang Kai the moment the clapperboard sounded, the impact of his exquisite features had been instantly eclipsed by his profound depiction of a servant’s last loyal sacrifice.

Although Sun Ri couldn’t help being impressed when he recalled the other’s impeccable acting, it wasn’t enough to override his disdain, he soon put the young man out of his mind.

—

Striding out of the recording studio, Chen Yu followed the original owner’s memories to arrive at a tidy apartment that was barely furnished with a mattress and a bookcase full of scripts.

While Xiang Kai’s parents weren’t poor, they had divorced long ago and each had their own families with new children, between this and that, there had never been much money or energy left to support this son of theirs. Skimming through the plot, this body’s family members had consistently maintained their distance, they had never interfered both when Xiang Kai had become successful in the first life and was ruined in the second, merely sending along some trite encouragement and a minimum of living expenses.

Having grown up to be twenty years of age mostly on his own, the original owner hadn’t cared, he would have been more troubled if they had poked their noses into his business. Naturally, this arrangement was also preferable for Chen Yu—otherwise, he would have had to include these people as variables in his calculations.

Thus, for now he accepted the shabby environment and, settling down on the thin futon, he fumbled around to locate an old laptop that had been pushed under the blankets. Having sadly held a moment of silence for the loss of the last world’s technology, Chen Yu then clicked around to research some information, since the plot generally left out the interesting bits.

Indeed, a few hours of investigation turned up some amusing details.

While it hadn’t been too important in the story, Chen Yu smiled when he determined that Sun Ri, who had later been abandoned by Guo Ziyue for his ‘lowly status,’ was in reality the favorite child of Chairman Sun, the largest shareholder of Jiao Yang Media Holdings. This international conglomerate was the parent company of Fanxing Entertainment Group, it controlled the communications outlets in so many nations that, supposedly, offending a member of Sun Jia would bring on worse consequences than offending the head of any country.

The sole reason that Sun Ri’s exalted identity was concealed was that when he had turned twenty years old, he had confessed to his parents that he was gay. While the chairman hadn’t automatically rejected him because of his sexual orientation, he had officially stated that regardless of how he went about it, Sun Ri could only be named heir once he produced a son. Until then, he could use any of Sun Jia’s resources, connections, and companies, but he couldn’t represent their family, even when he had to take on the responsibility of caring for Guo Ziyue, a deceased family friend’s son, he was merely introduced as an individual from a branch family.

In other words, Sun Ri may have lost his prestigious title but he had absolutely no need to work if he didn’t want to, his job as a superstar was merely a pastime. This was what had allowed him to confidently hold a press conference to announce that he was gay a decade before, when public sentiment had been completely against homosexuality, and such brazenness was what had tipped Chen Yu off to his background, since no rising celebrity would risk such a thing unless he had guaranteed support. As for why Sun Ri had become an actor of all things, Chen Yu wasn’t clear, nor was he concerned. The moment he’d noticed the derision in this character’s stare on set, he had ruled out the possibility that the man was his lover, so he wasn’t very intrigued by him.

Instead, he turned to look into who had cooperated with the reincarnated protagonist to orchestrate the suffering that Xiang Kai had endured. He didn’t have to check to know that the CEO of Fanxing, Peng Muzhi, had conspired with, or at least consented to, Guo Ziyue’s actions, because he had certainly been a part of spreading false rumors about the original owner’s sordid history, then representing the company to kick him out without a single chance to defend himself. But it would be effortless to eliminate this Peng Muzhi, since he kept up a small gambling habit and owed a bit in debt already, he could easily be encouraged to increase them until he drowned himself in liabilities.

What Chen Yu hadn’t expected, though, was that this good little shou wasn’t the only person that the protagonist catered to in bed after being reborn. Contrary to his claims that he was exclusively a gong, Guo Ziyue had actually secretly lent his bottom out to quite a few people in order to become a celebrity, because while he wasn’t a bad actor, he wasn’t talented enough to stand out and he wasn’t rich enough to fund his own projects, even with his sizable inheritance. This discovery made Chen Yu doubt that the protagonist was the one he was searching for, after all his lover had always been an expert in his profession…

Well, at least Guo Ziyue’s efforts weren’t useless, thanks to his ‘networking,’ he was presently acting in a serial drama as the second male lead and had a small fan base already, whereas Xiang Kai was still a nameless nobody.

During his exploration, Chen Yu had inevitably found many images of Guo Ziyue, but an examination of the figure in the photographs and videos left him frowning. The younger man was perfectly formed, with dashingly chiseled features and a well-built body, Chen Yu genuinely appreciated the very handsome face with its thin lips, high nose, and charming eyes.

Nevertheless, he was disappointed, he couldn’t find a hint of his lover anywhere. Additionally, Xiang Kai’s body expressed a vague disgust whenever he saw clips of the protagonist acting—while Chen Yu laughingly guessed from this reaction that the reason Xiang Kai had ignored Guo Ziyue’s pursuit had been that he’d disdained the protagonist’s lack of skill, he couldn’t believe that he would ever find his lover so distasteful.

Despite these revelations and questions, however, the issue that Chen Yu had wondered about most from reading the plot remained unsolved: he still didn’t understand why Xiang Kai had gotten married to a socialite in the first timeline when he could have easily gained popularity through his talent alone. From a brief examination, the woman didn’t appear to be very relevant to the story at all…he supposed he’d have to figure it out as he went along.

Pushing aside the computer and stretching, Chen Yu relaxed and smirked, poking fun again in his heart at how poor Guo Ziyue’s ability to differentiate between good and bad was. Sun Ri was truly the thickest, shiniest golden thigh the protagonist could have clutched on to, yet he’d given it up himself…At the thought, Chen Yu narrowed his eyes. As they say, experience is the best teacher, Guo Ziyue would definitely learn the power of Sun Jia in this life.

At that moment, a call came through on his phone, it was the director of the movie he’d performed for earlier. Had the protagonist pushed for even that tiny scene to be removed?

Rather curious, Chen Yu picked up with a short “En,” leaving the other man to awkwardly respond a beat later. “Hello, Xiang Kai, it’s Director Lin. Your work today was quite impressive, the scriptwriter was inspired to add some scenes flashing back to show interactions between your character and his master. I’ll be sending over the revised script, please be ready to shoot in two days.” After simply uttering a quiet agreement, Chen Yu hung up, wondering in passing who had arranged this gift.

But concluding to himself that any screen time was good for Xiang Kai right now, he moved on to considering his image. While this terse personality was fairly convenient at times, he would have to adjust it slightly for public consumption…peering into a mirror, he let out a chuckle, en, with this face a tiny change would be enough, it wouldn’t be hard to sway the audience. As for his golden finger, there was no use for it yet, he’d keep it safe since he would probably need it once he met his lover.

Almost certain that Guo Ziyue wasn’t his target, Chen Yu no longer hesitated, quickly creating a new email account and sending an anonymous message out, he put in motion the strategy he’d been eager to enact from the moment he’d scanned the plot.