After a Top Idol Married the Sickly Young Master of a Wealthy Family to Bring Him Good Luck - Chapter 21

Housekeeper Zhou, filled with “grief and indignation,” reported the “rebellious” incident of the Little Young Master staying up half the night and accidentally spraining his ankle to Madam Ling, detail by detail.

Anxious and worried, Madam Ling immediately decided to move into Pingye Residence for a while, lest Ling Suiyao toss away the health he had finally managed to recover.

Left with no choice, Ling Suiyao had to postpone his film analysis and editing. Under his mother’s watchful eye, he squeezed out tiny bits of progress every day like squeezing a tube of toothpaste. A three-and-a-half-minute video took him half a month to edit.

When he finally checked the finished product, Ling Suiyao felt a sense of “sweetness after the bitterness”—it really hadn’t been easy.

He logged into Weibo and posted the video on the account Suisui’s Little Rice Cake.

He stretched, then changed his clothes to head out.

Today also happened to be the final day of filming for the Zhe Dao Xing (The Broken Blade) crew. As the original author and assistant screenwriter, Ling Suiyao needed to go to the set to take photos and record a video as a memento.

When he arrived at the scene, the crew was filming the final scene.

The hall was dim. The founding emperor—white-haired, wrinkled, and elderly—sat upon the throne of supreme honor. Due to his late-life obsession with alchemy and elixirs, his limbs were weak, and his hair was thin, yet his gaze remained as fierce as a wolf’s, staring at the respectful young man before him.

“Father, it is time for you to let go of this empire and enjoy your twilight years in peace.”

This was Meng Ce’s least favorite son, usually excessively humble and submissive. However, even the power-obsessed Meng Ce had been deceived by his facade.

The power struggle is terrifying, even turning kin against one another. To seize the empire, he had swung his blade at his brothers, removing the Crown Prince, Prince Su, and Prince Han one by one—and finally, his Father.

Meng Ce looked at Meng Changyin with a complex expression.

He had actually lost to his own son, but now there was no way to turn back time.

His throat felt as if it were blocked by grit. He let out a raspy, “Heh-heh” laugh, his expression relatively calm: “After I pass, what posthumous title will you choose for me?”

Meng Changyin knelt and bowed. “Father spent his life governing heaven and earth; the title should be Wen (The Civil).”

“How will posterity write of me?”

“Father unified ten thousand miles and swept across the eight directions. You ruled with diligence and brought peace to the seas and rivers. You are, naturally, the Emperor of a Thousand Ages.”

Meng Ce tilted his head back and laughed loudly, spitting a mouthful of dark blood from his throat. “If the Xu Dynasty falls at your hands, I fear I will be spurned by the ten thousand people.”

Sweat beaded on Meng Changyin’s forehead. “Your son truly had no choice. If I had not fought, the one to die would have been me. You fought your way through life; you understand this truth best. Rest assured, Father, your son will certainly carry out your will and make the prestige of the Xu Dynasty echo across the four seas.”

“Remember those words!”

The poisoned wine took effect. Meng Ce fell from the imperial throne, blood staining the floor.

Struggle, pain, resentment.

A revolving lantern of memories—looking back on this life, his lovers, friends, and enemies had all gone before him. A lifetime of grievances was nothing more than a golden millet dream; in the end, he was nothing but a solitary man.

A legendary emperor of a generation thus met a wretched end.

Meng Changyin prostrated himself on the ground, trembling and weeping uncontrollably.

The dynasty was changing again, and the prosperous era belonging to Emperor Wu of the Xu Dynasty was about to arrive.

…

“Cut!”

After nearly four months of high-intensity filming, Zhe Dao Xing was finally wrapped.

The staff across the entire crew let out a collective sigh of relief and cheered for the wrap-up.

While removing his makeup, Pei Xinglu looked at himself in the mirror and suddenly felt a bit dazed, the profound plot of the story still lingering in his mind.

—He had finished acting out the life of Meng Ce.

Magnificent and turbulent, with its ups and downs.

The story Ling Suiyao wrote expressed grand, surging emotions through plain words; the after-effect was indeed too strong. Even now, he felt his heart was heavy, and his breathing labored.

During his moment of daze, a wisp of floral fragrance quietly arrived.

“Brother Pei, happy wrap-up!”

—Ling Suiyao was holding a bouquet, wearing a mask, his eyes curved into crescents from his smile.

He took the flowers and whispered, “Thank you.”

Ling Suiyao smiled even more happily and was just about to say something when he suddenly let out a loud sneeze.

The somewhat melancholy atmosphere was shattered by his several consecutive sneezes.

Pei Xinglu’s emotions slowly detached, returning to the real world.

He frowned. “Why are you giving flowers? Aren’t you allergic to pollen?”

Back when the “joyous marriage” (to ward off bad luck) first started, Housekeeper Zhou had sent him a document detailing everything Ling Suiyao was allergic to. He had only glanced at it then, but he remembered the very first item: pollen allergy.

Ling Suiyao shook his head, a bit surprised that the other person knew about his allergy. He pulled his mask up higher, his voice sounding muffled: “It’s fine, Brother Pei. Today is your wrap-up; it’s appropriate to give flowers.”

Pei Xinglu looked at the bouquet in his arms, then at his little fan, Ling Suiyao, and moved the bouquet to the side. “No need. Just take care of your own body.”

Ling Suiyao said, “I took allergy medicine in advance and wore a mask, so it’s not serious.”

Pei Xinglu’s brow remained tightly knit. “…Stop tossing yourself around.”

Ling Suiyao smiled; Brother Pei was concerned about him.

Pei Xinglu coughed a few times awkwardly and looked away.

Next was the final wrap-up work. After taking photos and recording videos, the Zhe Dao Xing crew officially cleared the set.

Pei Xinglu was so tired he could barely move; he slept in the hotel for a day and a night.

He didn’t wake up until noon the next day.

Yang Xing and Xiao He came over with the key card to open his door.

New work was beginning again.

“The plane flies to B City at 3 PM. Tonight at 7, there’s an esports celebrity exhibition match. It’s a movie promotion event we signed for earlier. Since you’re good at games and it’s just an exhibition match, just play casually and treat it as relaxation. Tomorrow night there’s a Louis Gala in A City; you need to take this one seriously. High-level executives of the brand and the elite of A City’s upper crust will be attending…”

Pei Xinglu drank orange juice while listening to Yang Xing arrange the schedule, lazily lifting his eyelids to scroll through his phone.

Chen Er: Your dear little fan ‘Little Rice Cake’ is truly strong, a role model for fans. That video they edited has already surpassed ten million views.

Chen Er: The main star had better go and repost it quickly.

That was sent yesterday.

Another one came this morning.

Chen Er: [Transfer] Congrats on the wrap-up, Pei God.

When things are unusual, there must be a demon afoot.

Pei Xinglu accepted it—it was actually a large five-figure transfer.

PXL:?

Chen Er: [Puffed Chest.jpg] Let me crush you tonight.

PXL:.

Chen Er: [Screenshot] Money received. A top star wouldn’t be so unfaithful, right? [Would they, would they.jpg]

PXL: Don’t you claim to be at a professional player level? You still need to bribe me?

Chen Er: [Grimace.jpg] Fine, just you wait and see.

…

At the same time, the director of Ding Feng Bo was also privately messaging Pei Xinglu, telling him to go watch the new video edited by Suisui’s Little Rice Cake, praising it to the heavens.

Is it really that good?

Pei Xinglu logged onto Weibo and clicked into the homepage of Suisui’s Little Rice Cake. The pinned post was indeed this video.

Suisui’s Little Rice Cake V: Sharing a video.

It was a three-and-a-half-minute short film. The plot covered the introduction, development, climax, and conclusion. The visuals were exquisite, the composition filled with Chinese aesthetics; blue-green landscapes and misty rain ran through the entire piece. The music was perfectly timed, the transitions were smooth and natural, and combined with the high-texture dialogue from the movie, this edited clip was practically perfect.

[Worshiping the god-level master!]

[This filter is so beautiful, it feels both elegant and intense.]

[So strong, Little Rice Cake, you are really too strong. You can write reviews, paint, and edit [Admiration.jpg]]

“Xiao Pei, this ID ‘Suisui’s Little Rice Cake’ has really strong skills. Look at these works; I actually think we can try to contact them. They’d be a good fit for our team’s artistic promotion. Salary and everything are negotiable.”

Yang Xing handed the tablet to Pei Xinglu, flipping through the paintings and previous mashup clips of “Suisui’s Little Rice Cake.”

“Xiao Pei, what do you think?”

Yang Xing turned his head to look, and for once, Pei Xinglu showed an expression of confusion and blankness.

“…Wait a second.”

He paused the short film at the 58th second, screenshotted it, and kept zooming in, looking left and right… How was this ratio, this filter, and this transition so similar! It was just like the PR screen Ling Suiyao was editing that night!

The paintings on Yang Xing’s tablet, the most popular “Bamboo Leaf CP” image… the red allergy marks on the back of Ling Suiyao’s neck…

He clicked into the private messages with Suisui’s Little Rice Cake. That photo was taken at the Luming Jewelry event, and Ling Suiyao, who was also at the scene… and the similar-angle photo he had briefly caught a glimpse of on Ling Suiyao’s phone later…

Suisui’s Little Rice Cake, Weibo info shows graduated from A University, IP address A City.

Ling Suiyao, A University Literature Department graduate, is the Young Master of the wealthy Ling family. A native of A City.

Suisui’s Little Rice Cake was posted on Weibo last November, and the next post wasn’t until this April.

This time period was precisely when Ling Suiyao was suspected of being seriously ill and hospitalized.

He flipped through the private message records and felt more and more that the tone and speaking style were exactly like Ling Suiyao’s. He could even mentally reconstruct Ling Suiyao’s expression when saying these things.

Pei Xinglu pressed his temple. Hiss.

Weibo: Suisui’s Little Rice Cake.

WeChat: Suisui Nian Nian.

Qingti TV: Suisui Nian Nian.

Pen name: Sui Ning.

Pei Xinglu: “…”

It was 99% certain it was the same person.

“Xiao Pei, we have to be at the airport at one. Time is tight. Hurry back to Pingye Residence and pack your things, don’t delay.”

Yang Xing actually didn’t understand. Weren’t the things mostly all packed? What else was there to pack? And with less than a day, he still insisted on going back to Pingye Residence.

Pei Xinglu stared at his phone, continuing to look for clues.

Once they arrived at Pingye Residence, before Yang Xing could even speak, he had already opened the car door and stepped out.

Yang Xing was stunned: What’s the situation? Exactly how important is this thing?

Housekeeper Zhou and the cook were making food. Ling Suiyao was sitting cross-legged on the sofa downstairs, watching TV, completely absorbed.

The TV was playing The Miraculous Detective, the second hit drama Pei Xinglu starred in after Nine-Linked Rings. It was a suspenseful investigation theme, and he played a nitpicking, meticulous, and very “cool-acting” high-level psychology expert.

As soon as Pei Xinglu entered the hall, he heard his own original voice lines.

[I am so handsome, it’s normal for the villain to be charmed by me.]

Pei Xinglu: “…”

Such embarrassing lines. Without a sense of conviction, one really couldn’t say them.

But Ling Suiyao deeply agreed, nodding his head vigorously. Even the back of his head seemed to say: Yes, that’s exactly how it is!

Pei Xinglu hesitated for a moment, then sent a private message to Suisui’s Little Rice Cake.

As soon as he sent it, the next second, with a “ding-dong,” the tablet placed casually on the bookshelf next to Pei Xinglu suddenly lit up.

Pei Xinglu was stunned.

On the lock screen, which featured the Zhe Dao Xing official poster, a notification popped up.

Special Follow @Pei Xinglu Private Message:

Pei Xinglu immediately turned his head.

Ling Suiyao heard the sound. His tablet rang many times every day, so he didn’t take it to heart; he just subconsciously looked back. But seeing Pei Xinglu, he was pleasantly surprised: “Brother Pei, you’re back!”

He checked his watch. “It takes at least forty minutes to get to the airport now. Brother Pei, go grab your things quickly.”

After speaking, he got off the sofa, stepped into his fluffy slippers, and went to the kitchen: “Uncle Zhou, Aunt Sun, is the food ready? Brother Pei is leaving.”

Pei Xinglu could only pretend to go upstairs to get something. From the top of the stairs, he looked down at the dining room.

Ling Suiyao was taking lunch boxes out of the refrigerator, seriously dividing and packing the dishes, even adding cut fruit.

Pei Xinglu entered the room, grabbed a random watch, swapped his old one for the new one, and put it on.

He clicked on the private message, withdrew that period, and made an excuse that he had sent it by mistake.

Scrolling up through the chat history, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, his smile hard to suppress.

—Tsk, who would have thought Ling Suiyao liked him this much?