After a Top Idol Married the Sickly Young Master of a Wealthy Family to Bring Him Good Luck - Chapter 10

Just as Xiao He finished sending a WeChat message to Pei Xinglu, a white Bentley with a license plate consisting of five 9s pulled up smoothly and gracefully in front of the Maisui Entertainment building.

Xiao He immediately let out a “Wow!” and exclaimed, “So cool!”

The driver opened the front passenger door, and a man with long legs and the height of a model stepped out. Dressed in a suit, he exuded the aura of a sophisticated, elite “gentleman-scoundrel.”

Ling Jing then opened the rear door, and a thin young man wearing a mask hopped out of the car.

His outfit was simple and casual, but according to Xiao He’s mental calculation, the entire ensemble—from the technical windbreaker to the sneakers—definitely cost no less than five figures. The upper half of the boy’s face was very fair, and his eyes were exceptionally beautiful.

The last one to emerge was Pei Xinglu.

The boy waved to Pei Xinglu. Although his lower face was hidden by the mask, he was certainly smiling; his eyes curved into crescents, and his faint aegyo-sal added a touch of bright, youthful energy.

Xiao He was “hard-controlled” in a daze for thirty seconds.

It wasn’t until Pei Xinglu walked over and snapped his fingers by her ear that she snapped out of it.

Xiao He’s eyes widened, and like a thief, she whispered very quietly, “Brother Pei, was that… the Little Young Master Ling you married for luck? And who was that tall guy? You’re here for an audition. Why did they come along?”

Pei Xinglu entered the Maisui Entertainment lobby, while Ling Jing and Ling Suiyao waited for the executive elevator.

From the moment Pei Xinglu appeared, he drew a great deal of attention. He had always been the type who was surrounded by a crowd of fans and anti-fans wherever he went.

Xiao He cautiously answered her own question: “I remember now, Sister Yang said the CEO of Maisui Entertainment is the second son of the Ling family. So that tall one must be Ling Jing? No wonder. But what is Little Young Master Ling doing here? Just joining the fun? Is his health better? So ‘marrying for luck’ actually works!”

She turned her head to continue questioning Pei Xinglu, only to find him with his hands in his pockets, staring at her expressionlessly.

Pei Xinglu had “strong” features; even without makeup, his face possessed a powerful presence. Coupled with his gaze—deep, haughty, and even somewhat bewitching—it was intimidating.

Xiao He immediately shut her mouth.

Ahhh, how did she dare mention Ling Suiyao and the ‘luck marriage’ in front of Pei Xinglu! Bah, bah, bah!

Pei Xinglu pressed the elevator button and said in a low voice, “He is the original author and the screenwriter.”

Xiao He stood there like a wooden chicken.

Did she hear that right?

Who was the original author and screenwriter?

That Little Young Master of the Ling family?!

The elevator opened.

Driven by a burning curiosity, Xiao He scrambled inside to ask for clarification. But just as she was about to speak, two more people entered.

Taking a closer look—good grief, it really was a case of “enemies meeting on a narrow path.”

The person who entered was Pei Xinglu’s rival, Yu Zhihan, along with his assistant, Xiao Rong.

The elevator doors slowly closed.

Xiao He and Xiao Rong, the two wage-earners, stood in the back row, leaving plenty of space in the front for the “asura field” showdown to unfold freely.

Yu Zhihan spoke first. “Xiao Pei, what a coincidence. You’re here to audition for The Way of the Folding Blade, too?”

Pei Xinglu curled his lip. “Otherwise? I’m here to play?”

His words were laced with mockery.

Upon hearing this, Yu Zhihan’s expression remained unchanged as he smiled. “It’s been a long time. Your temper hasn’t changed at all. In this circle, being too rigid makes you easy to break; it’s better to be a bit more restrained and tactful. Seven years ago, you suffered a setback because of your personality. You need to learn to take some things lightly…”

Pei Xinglu interrupted him calmly, “Get lost.”

The fight started! It started!

Pei Xinglu was so straightforward!

Xiao He felt a surge of excitement in the back, wanting to grab Xiao Rong to gossip together. But Xiao Rong was much calmer than her, keeping her head down with an absentminded look, as if she were completely detached from the situation.

Yu Zhihan remained amiable. “Xiao Pei, no matter what, we were once teammates fighting side-by-side. Even if Moonstar has disbanded, why be so antagonistic?”

Pei Xinglu really couldn’t hold back anymore. He irritably rolled his eyes at the floor numbers displayed in the elevator. “Can you shut up? You know best why Moonstar disbanded. Hearing the word ‘teammate’ come out of your mouth is simply laughable.”

Even Yu Zhihan’s perfect expression finally faltered slightly. “It seems your misunderstanding of me is very deep. Since that’s the case, I won’t say more. Xiao Pei, I wish you a successful audition…”

The elevator stopped at the 26th floor.

Pei Xinglu didn’t bother listening to any more of his nonsense and strode out with long steps. Staying in the same space as Yu Zhihan made the very air feel turbid and filthy.

After collecting his number tag, Pei Xinglu greeted a few friends he knew in the industry. He then sat in the waiting area, pushing Yu Zhihan—that jinx—and their past grudges aside. He focused all his attention on the upcoming audition, speculating which scene they would be asked to perform.

As he thought, his mind weirdly drifted toward Ling Suiyao.

Specifically, the moment the boy had pushed open the door and run toward him, so anxious that his asthma flared up, his face exceptionally flushed, with teardrops hanging from his lashes… fragile and broken, like a piece of exquisite, swaying porcelain that made one feel a protective urge…

Protective urge?

Pei Xinglu wanted to slap himself.

What kind of messy thoughts was he having? He had clearly been so repelled by Ling Suiyao before.

…But then again, the boy was his fan, and he was the boy’s book fan. The relationship had suddenly become complicated.

“Next, Pei Xinglu.”

Pei Xinglu snapped back to reality, cleared his mind of stray thoughts, and followed the staff member into the audition room.

Ling Suiyao had been discussing character settings with the head screenwriter, Tang Ying. When he heard Pei Xinglu’s name, he instinctively looked up, a trace of a smile appearing on his face.

The lead director, Zhang Bo, flipped through the profile with little interest. He said to the casting director, “Actually, I don’t really want ‘idols’ appearing in this drama. While they help with promotion, their acting is unknown, and their fans are hard to control; for a piece of work, they can be a disaster.”

Zhang Bo was a creator of masterpieces. His last work was five years ago and had won numerous major awards. This time, Maisui Media had invited him out of retirement. It was difficult for him to decline, partly to repay the Ling family for their past support.

He had heard the name Pei Xinglu—a top-tier idol who had been incredibly popular. Before the audition even started, he had received recommendations for him from many sides, even including Sui-Sui.

Zhang Bo felt a sense of rebellion. He hadn’t seen Pei Xinglu act, and he assumed he was just someone living off his face with no real talent. He would never allow his work to be tainted by anyone.

Zhang Bo’s voice wasn’t particularly loud or quiet, so Pei Xinglu naturally heard him. However, he had heard similar remarks countless times; he was used to it and didn’t care enough to argue.

But Ling Suiyao clearly didn’t agree.

He said, “Uncle Zhang, you must have never seen Pei Xinglu act.”

Zhang Bo raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why do you say that?”

Ling Suiyao said as a matter of fact, “Because if you had seen it, you wouldn’t say those things.”

Zhang Bo wasn’t convinced, but he wasn’t about to get upset with the youngest son of his benefactor. He looked at Pei Xinglu and said politely, “Our little screenwriter has a very high opinion of you. Don’t let him down.”

So, Ling Suiyao was… protecting him?

Pei Xinglu withdrew his gaze, suppressing the strange emotion that had just flickered in his heart.

The assistant director handed him a script and drew a slip of paper. “Script page 130, Scene 2.”

This plot point occurred in the mid-to-late stage of the story.

Meng Ce, who started as an assassin, had grown into a warlord during the chaotic era. He led his troops to break through the capital of the Qu Kingdom. Atop the high city walls, his junior brother Zhao Zhaoyan had been defeated and captured.

Pei Xinglu had a deep impression of this segment. It was a very difficult and complex scene.

Zhang Bo looked around and finally said, “Sui-Sui, you play the opposite role for him.”

“Me?” Ling Suiyao was startled, looking nervous. “I don’t know how to act. What if I lead him astray?”

“It’s fine, you just need to read the lines.” Zhang Bo flipped the script to the corresponding page and gave it to him.

After some hesitation, Ling Suiyao finally agreed. He had to be extremely careful not to affect Brother Pei.

Pei Xinglu adjusted his state quickly and gave an “OK” gesture, indicating he was ready.

He slowly lifted his face. In an instant, he seemed to become a different person, radiating the aura of a high-ranking ruler. He tilted his head slightly, as if speaking to someone behind him.

“From this day forth, the nineteen cities of the Qu Kingdom, the lands of the three mountains, and the rivers of Shu and Yin… all shall belong to Xu.”

This perfectly delivered line caused Zhang Bo’s disdain to vanish instantly.

This was Meng Ce—surveying the rising smoke of war from his horse, looking upon the ruins of the Qu Kingdom.

He lowered his gaze, his eyes filled with compassion and a somber sigh, as if lamenting the fickleness of the world—wondering when these troubled times would end and when prosperity would arrive.

However, as he raised his eyes, one could glimpse a different brilliance hidden beneath his pitch-black pupils—a kind of frantic ambition, a determination to have the whole world in his grasp.

At this moment, Meng Ce, having seized power and destroyed Qu through iron-blooded means, occupied thousands of miles of the Central Plains. He had become a hegemon, sufficient to look down upon the world. In this split second, the obsession with power had already overshadowed the thought of saving the common people.

A crisp clatter echoed.

A brown lobular red sandalwood prayer string fell to the ground.

Following the sound of the heavy beads, Pei Xinglu’s pupils suddenly contracted. He looked up.

Ling Suiyao was sitting by the window, simply watching him quietly.

Pei Xinglu walked over, picked up the sandalwood string, and gradually tightened his grip. He called out hoarsely, “A-Yan.”

“In the past, Senior Brother gave me a peace charm. Today, I return it, only asking that Senior Brother treat the people of Qu with kindness. I wish for Senior Brother to gain the world soon, and never forget the common folk.”

Ling Suiyao was weak and indifferent, but his words were clear. All past grudges had dissipated like the wind.

The intense confrontation of brothers turning against each other did not happen, nor was there a passionate recounting of the past. The situation was extremely calm; with just a few lines in the autumn wind, Zhao Zhaoyan committed suicide for his country, and Meng Ce entered the Central Plains.

After a long silence, Pei Xinglu clenched the prayer beads and turned away resolutely. “Someone, come. Bury Zhao Zhaoyan with the highest honors of a Qu Kingdom Emperor. All soldiers are forbidden from taking even a needle or a thread from the people. If anyone violates this order, they shall be dealt with by military law.”

His voice was lonely, unexpectedly bringing a sense of desolation.

It was like a dream, a moment of blankness.

He suddenly remembered ten years ago—the Qu Kingdom prince who was displaced due to his mother’s clan being implicated. Back then, he was a little beggar who couldn’t even get enough to eat, much like his own former self.

Meng Ce had saved him and brought him back to Jinyintai. From then on, a “little tail” would follow behind Meng Ce.

“Senior Brother.” “Senior Brother!”

Meng Ce had personally witnessed the “little tail” grow from timid and fearful to high-spirited and dashing.

Pei Xinglu gazed dazedly at the Ling Suiyao before him, who was uninhibited and vibrant, yet carried a hint of being neither purely good nor evil. He reached out his hand to touch him, but ultimately withdrew it.

It was just an illusion.

From now on, there would be no more Qu Kingdom in the world, and no more Zhao Zhaoyan who liked to hang three bells on his sword tassel.

Pei Xinglu closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. When he opened them again, he was as calm as a still lake, having buried everything deep in his heart.

However, as he turned around, Pei Xinglu stumbled and twisted his ankle, bumping into a chair. He paused for a few seconds before slowly standing up. When he walked again, his back was as straight as a pine tree.

Until the audition ended.

That lingering sense of a “Bad Ending”—subtle yet thick—still permeated the room.

Bang—

Zhang Bo slapped the table and stood up, ecstatic, his hands waving wildly in the air. “That’s exactly the feeling! That feeling of something stuck in the chest, like a lump in the throat, that haunts Meng Ce for the remaining thirty years of his life! The feeling that even after conquering the world, something is missing! Your name is Pei Xinglu, right? I apologize for my previous prejudice. You truly have talent!”

Pei Xinglu entered a role quickly and left it just as fast. He let out a long breath and thanked the director.

Zhang Bo was beyond satisfied. “You must have read the original novel. Your grasp of Meng Ce’s emotions was too perfect. Many people, when acting in the first segment, can only portray the helplessness toward the chaotic era, but they can’t show the ambitious drive of a ruler waiting for his moment. Very good, you acted very well! Sui-Sui cooperated well, too!”

Pei Xinglu still held the sandalwood prayer beads in his hand. They felt warm to the touch, deep brown in color, with a mellow fragrance.

He was about to return them to Ling Suiyao.

However, he saw that Ling Suiyao looked dazed, his brow slightly furrowed, his eyes tinged with red and a lingering sorrow. As the creator of the entire story, he was the most susceptible to being moved by it and falling deep into the emotions.

Pei Xinglu heard those two distinctly different calls of “Senior Brother” echoing in his ears and dithered. Instinctively, he lifted the prayer beads and shook them slightly in front of the boy’s eyes.

Ling Suiyao looked blankly through the swaying sandalwood beads and saw Meng Ce.

No, it was Pei Xinglu.

Ling Suiyao grabbed the beads and said softly, “Thank you.”

Pei Xinglu looked at him from the side, his eyes flickering.

“You’re welcome.”