Chapter 6: He Refused, But It Was Useless
The entire conference room was stunned into silence.
No one had anticipated things would unfold like this...
Chu Wen’s emotions were clearly tumultuous, his raised gaze cold and tinged with crimson, “You’re just going to let them slander you and destroy all these years of hard work?”
Eight full years.
Others said Shen Jixing was dazzling, the unreachable star of the entertainment industry. But it had taken him eight relentless years to reach this point—saying he’d fought day and night, giving everything, would be no exaggeration.
To have it all ruined in an instant—who could accept that?
Shen Jixing looked at him calmly.
“What are the facts?”
The pale light from outside scattered in his eyes. If you looked closely, the black hair at his temple was damp, his skin so fair it was nearly translucent.
He said, “Don’t you all know better than I do?”
Chu Wen’s eyes trembled violently.
His hand, pressed against the table, curled in reflex.
Shen Jixing leaned back, putting distance between them. “People must pay the price for the mistakes they make.”
And so he accepted all the insults and attacks with composure.
...
The meeting ended in discord.
Everyone left the room, words unsaid, while the head of PR clutched his files, looking as lost as a child. “So... whose decision do we follow in the end?”
Chu Wen shot him a cold glare.
The realization dawned on the PR head. “Understood. Got it.”
Even the vice president couldn’t handle Shen Jixing. Once again, the final decision lay with him.
Did that mean he had time off?
On his way out, he sneaked a glance at the cool, pale silhouette by the floor-to-ceiling window.
Like an angel.
Chu Wen, still wearing a cold expression, was about to leave, but then paused and looked back at Shen Jixing.
“I suggest you try not to be so willful in the future.”
After all, there were still people above in the company hierarchy.
A wave of discomfort swept over Shen Jixing’s body; he clearly had no patience left to humor him.
“I suggest you refrain from offering advice so casually in the future.”
“...”
Chu Wen swallowed his retort, face darkening as he strode out of the conference room.
Shen Jixing rose from his seat. “I’m going to the restroom.”
His obsession with cleanliness was so extreme, even he found it tiresome.
After Shen Jixing left, Pei Ming twirled the pen in his hand, spinning it until it fell to the table with a clatter.
“Well, we’re finished.”
Bear felt he was on the verge of a breakdown.
The team’s publicity officer scratched his head. “Why do I still feel... something’s off?”
They’d been by Shen Jixing’s side for so long, they knew better than anyone what kind of person he was.
Aloof and proud, yes, but never one to pretend.
How could so much dirt surface overnight—and all of it... true?
“If he doesn’t say anything, no one’s going to find out.” Pei Ming sneered.
He knew all too well—any secret Shen Jixing willingly shared with him, couldn’t really be a secret.
“Actually, maybe I know a bit?”
The group turned as one to the team’s universally acknowledged dumbest assistant.
“What do you know?”
Bear scratched his head. “Shouldn’t everyone know this by now?”
Everyone: “???”
Huh? Wasn’t that the case?
Was stupidity the best camouflage?
Bear couldn’t let them keep misunderstanding, and after a moment’s hesitation, he spoke up. “Actually, Shen used to come from a poor background. When he debuted, he had no say in anything.”
“He tried to refuse, but it was useless.”
“...”
“Was it necessary?” Pei Ming frowned. “Did he need those stories to embellish his image?”
He clearly remembered the first time he met Shen Jixing.
Back then, he was already a top agent, and Shen Jixing was just a rookie in his first year.
“What kind of newcomer are you foisting on me? Do you know how busy I am every day? Why should I waste my time promoting a rookie?”
The next moment, he’d met Shen Jixing.
“Hello, here to sign the contract?”
At that moment, Pei Ming, contract in hand, thought: I’ll promote him—even if it kills me.
“Exactly,” the publicity officer agreed. “Apart from those second-generation rich kids who deliberately build a persona, what artist hasn’t had to fight their way up alone?”
Shen Jixing’s most distinctive trait was that when he stood before you, you could see nothing else.
Bear shook his head in sorrow. “I don’t know any more than that. In the end, it’s all decisions made at the top.”
They’d carefully crafted him a new identity, bestowed him with the most perfect family background, and finally turned him into a priceless showpiece in the window.
A casual decision made in idle conversation—
And his stardom was left teetering over a precarious abyss.
“So this sudden flood of negative press—could it be connected to...” Pei Ming’s heart lurched. He didn’t finish his thought.
Bear, though often by Shen Jixing’s side, didn’t know the whole story.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, then, with a flash of determination, added, “But Shen’s first manager...”
“Was the vice president.”
...
Shen Jixing splashed cold water onto his face.
Cool droplets traced pale lines, sliding down his long, fine lashes, the discomfort and stickiness on his skin easing slightly.
Behind him, steady footsteps approached. “Are you feeling unwell?”
Through the water-speckled mirror, Shen Jixing saw who it was. He didn’t seem surprised to see Chu Wen again.
“Is there something else?” he asked calmly.
His distant chill always seemed to stab at others, even unintentionally.
Chu Wen steadied his breath. “I’ll help you find out the truth behind this.”
Shen Jixing took a tissue and dabbed the droplets away, lashes curving down in a sharp, elegant arc.
A faint, mocking smile touched his lips. “You want to say you’re not the one behind this, right?”
“Of course I’m not,” Chu Wen retorted almost instantly.
But very few people were privy to this matter, and he couldn’t fully absolve himself. What’s more, it was he who had personally promised this secret would never come out.
Shen Jixing had believed him.
Chu Wen hadn’t expected the scandal to erupt so fiercely overnight, leaving him no chance to intervene.
“You don’t have to bother explaining.”
Shen Jixing tossed the tissue into the bin. “I’m not blaming you.”
Chu Wen’s frantic heartbeat steadied slightly.
He’d barely relaxed when Shen Jixing continued, “After all, promises have always been the least reliable.”
Shen Jixing had no desire to reminisce with Chu Wen or discuss meaningless things; he turned to leave.
A strong, slender arm blocked his path.
Chu Wen looked down at his profile. His skin, touched by water, glistened with cold pallor; the tips of his lashes damp and half-lowered.
Then those eyes slowly lifted to meet his.
Chu Wen looked away, his throat tightening. “Where are you staying now? Do you want to come to my—”
Shen Jixing’s patience had clearly run dry.
“No need.”
His cool gaze swept over the hand barring his way. “Move your hand.”
Zhou Yili always said this man’s cold pride was not without reason.
He would never take a detour; he’d only make others move aside for him.
Silence hung in the air.
Chu Wen eventually withdrew his hand, abruptly asking, “Is it him?”
There was too much packed into that question.
He didn’t believe Shen Jixing was completely in the dark; he wanted to know where he’d gone yesterday, and now, after refusing help, where he would go next...
Shen Jixing didn’t pause. “It’s none of your concern.”
He then calmly walked out of sight.
Sunlight slashed across the floor, casting lines of light and shadow. Chu Wen kicked the sink hard before pulling out his phone to call his secretary.
“Find out for me—get to the bottom of who leaked this!”
...
By the time Shen Jixing sat in his car, exhaustion had overtaken him.
He lay slumped over the steering wheel, one hand clutching the fabric at his waist, veins standing out on the back of his hand as he wrung his shirt into a crumpled mess.
He couldn’t hold it in any longer, stifling a groan. “Damn it...”
Outside, journalists hungry for his whereabouts were everywhere.
He didn’t even have time to buy medicine...
Just then, his phone chimed in his lap.
[ZZZZZZZ]: Where are you?
Shen Jixing frowned.
...What kind of WeChat name is that?
He couldn’t be bothered to type and tapped the voice input. “At the office, what is it?”
[ZZZZZZZ]: Who said you could go out? Do you know how many people are lying in wait for you outside?
Shen Jixing’s brows twitched, damp lashes catching the faint light.
He hadn’t replied yet when another message popped up.
[ZZZZZZZ]: My apartment is supposed to be a private address. Try turning it into a monkey exhibit and see what happens.
A faint, cold smile curled Shen Jixing’s lips.
“Quite a temper.”
He straightened up, took the phone, and replied to Zhou Yili, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
His voice, cool and magnetic, wrapped in a watery timbre, dripped through the electric current.
The other end was silent a moment before a curt response came.
[ZZZZZZZ]: It better be.
Shen Jixing didn’t reply, starting the car and leaving the underground garage.
At the same time, Zhou Yili, hair a mess of blue, sent a message to another contact, face cold.
[ZZZZZZZ]: Not eating, don’t come.
[Auntie Zhang the Little Kitchen God]: Oh? Why not eating again? You just said you wanted breakfast, so I made fragrant purple sweet potato and white fungus porridge for you ⊙∀⊙
Zhou Yili kicked open the door, long limbs sprawling as he flopped onto the bed, and replied coolly.
[ZZZZZZZ]: You eat it. Too lazy to get up. Going back to sleep.
[Auntie Zhang the Little Kitchen God]: ⊙︿⊙
No more smiles.