After Dumping the Scumbag Top, I Was Relentlessly Chased by a Top-Tier Idol - Chapter 13

Lin Yizhou placed his luggage in front of Director Tu. Following the director’s reminder, he had only taken out one set of clothes.

Looking at the two massive suitcases packed to the brim—pots, pans, bowls, ladles, firewood, rice, oil, salt, and every other necessity imaginable, even including a small portable refrigerator stocked with meat…

Director Tu wiped away a bead of sweat and couldn’t help but ask, “Xiaozhou, who prepared this luggage for you?”

Did they think they were coming here for a vacation camping trip?

The corners of Lin Yizhou’s lips curved slightly, his expression brimming with gentleness. “My assistant prepared it. He… was afraid I’d go hungry here.”

In truth, while Jiang Yue was packing, Lin Yizhou had wanted to tell him there was no need for all of it; he knew the production team would surely confiscate everything. But seeing the other man’s constant nagging and genuine concern while packing, he didn’t have the heart to stop him.

No one had ever cared whether he ate his fill or dressed warmly while away. Selfishly, he wanted to indulge in this feeling of being cared for just a little longer.

Director Tu’s mouth twitched unnaturally. “Haha, your assistant is certainly attentive.”

Lin Yizhou didn’t deny it, his eyes sparkling with a smile. “Yes, he is very good.”

Shen Xu, who had told him to play the game first, was currently standing behind him. Hearing this, he curled his lip and muttered under his breath, “Zhouzhou hasn’t even complimented me yet. That kid got lucky.”

At that moment, Cui Sula and Jiang Yue were sitting in the company lounge watching the livestream together.

Seeing her boss’s expression on screen, Cui Sula tossed a sunflower seed shell into the trash can and nudged Jiang Yue with her elbow, gloating. “Yizhou complimented you. Look at your boss’s face—he’s definitely jealous.”

Jiang Yue froze, dazed. “Ah? Then what should I do?”

Cui Sula cracked another seed and shrugged. “What can we do? If he wants to be a vinegar jar, let him be.”

She quickly changed the subject. “Do you think Teacher Lin will choose Truth or Dare?”

Jiang Yue thought for a moment. “Based on Brother Yizhou’s personality, I think he’ll choose Truth.”

The word “Truth” overlapped with Lin Yizhou’s voice on the screen.

The staff brought out a polygraph and asked: “Do you have an ex? If so, do you still love them?”

Crack. Hearing this, Cui Sula bit into a seed but threw it into the trash before eating the kernel. She said in surprise, “This show actually asks questions like that?”

“It’s definitely that kid surnamed Song pulling strings!”

No matter what Lin Yizhou answered, this was bound to trend on social media. She immediately instructed her subordinates: “Keep an eye on the hot searches and comments. Don’t let anyone control the narrative.”

Meanwhile, in the top-floor office of the Song Group building, Song Chizheng was also staring at the livestream. Upon hearing the question, he unconsciously sat up straighter, his eyes fixed on Lin Yizhou.

He watched as Lin Yizhou answered without a hint of hesitation or emotion: “Yes. I don’t love them.”

Four simple words, met with a simple result from the polygraph.

With a ding, the green light flickered on.

Song Chizheng sneered. A polygraph on a variety show wasn’t a real lie detector; it merely measured tension through pulse and heart rate. Lin Yizhou had always been calm, collected, and emotionally stable; ten such machines wouldn’t work on him.

Not in love anymore? That’s just a lie he tells himself.

Song Chizheng called the CEO of his subsidiary entertainment company. “You saw the show just now, right? Have the PR department push the narrative that the polygraph isn’t real and that it’s impossible for Lin Yizhou not to love his ex.”

“Understood, President Song.”

After hanging up, Song Chizheng tossed his phone onto the desk with a loud thud, the sound snapping him back to his senses.

What was he doing? Why did he care if a “stand-in” loved him or not?

He massaged his temples, quickly finding an excuse for himself: Lin Yizhou had only broken up with him half a month ago, yet he was publicly claiming not to love him on a show. Where was his dignity supposed to go?

He really doesn’t know what’s good for him!

He continued to glare at the screen, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

On the screen, Shen Xu was drawing a slip of paper from the “Truth” box. And then there was this guy named Shen—if he truly had impure intentions toward Lin Yizhou, Song would surely show him what for. Before he himself was “done” with Lin Yizhou, anyone else showing interest was a public provocation.

Back on the show, Shen Xu was the last to arrive at the game area. He also chose Truth.

Staff: “Do you currently have someone you like? If so, what is your current status with them? If not, what is your ideal type?”

Outside the screen, Cui Sula’s hand slipped. Instead of a seed, she bit her own finger. With a face full of annoyance, she complained, “Why is it another question like this? Is this a romance show or a survival show?”

After complaining, she didn’t forget to order: “Watch the hot searches and public opinion! Be ready for PR at any time!”

Jiang Yue, on the other hand, was watching happily, his hand never stopping as he snacked.

Hearing the question, Shen Xu raised an eyebrow as if thinking of something, and his lips curled up. “I have someone I like, and I’m currently pursuing them. As for my ideal type—once I’ve won them over and we go public, you’ll naturally know.”

In high spirits, he answered all three parts of the question.

This response completely ignited the bullet-chat section. Unsurprisingly, related hashtags quickly climbed the hot search rankings.

Crying my eyes out, he’s definitely not talking about me. His criteria are so specific they’re ready for an official announcement, and we haven’t even met yet.

Heavens, look at that proud and sweet expression when he answered. Are you sure he’s still pursuing them and hasn’t caught them already?

The layers of comments on the screen were so thick they completely obscured the faces of the people.

The director happily picked up his megaphone. “I didn’t tell you earlier, but this game of Truth or Dare was actually set up to divide you into teams.”

“You will be split into two teams to survive together. The guests who chose Truth and passed the polygraph will form one group—please stand to the right. Those who chose Truth but failed the polygraph, along with those who chose Dare, will form the other group—please stand to the left.”

Hearing this, the guests began to move. Pei Yutai grumbled as he walked toward the right, “If I’d known about this rule, I would’ve definitely chosen a Dare. Who wants to be on a team with a ‘vase’ useless beauty?”

Before he could finish, his path was blocked. He looked up to see Shen Xu adjusting his glasses with a cold smirk.

“Perhaps, if you have some dissatisfaction, you should go negotiate directly with the director?”

Pei Yutai stiffened his neck and opened his mouth, but didn’t dare to talk back.

“Just a reminder.” Shen Xu pressed down the corners of his mouth, his entire aura turning ice-cold. “Don’t use ignorance as a weapon. Mind your own business.”

Without waiting for a reaction, he turned and walked away toward Lin Yizhou.

Pei Yutai stood frozen in place, at a total loss. In the entire entertainment industry, there was no one he truly feared. Shen Xu, however, was the exception.

In the industry, Shen Xu was notorious for being “two-faced.” Most of the time, he appeared kind and approachable to everyone; however, when things weren’t right, he could flip his personality in a heartbeat with a single sentence. Yet, fans praised this behavior as “genuine”—an authentic, unpretentious “clean stream” in a fake industry.

Pei Yutai knew the receipts—the videos that proved Shen Xu’s temperament:

In a swarm of fans at the airport, Shen Xu was smiling and greeting people until something happened in the crowd. His face instantly darkened, he stepped forward to slap a fan’s camera out of their hands, leaving everyone stunned, and walked away directly over the shattered lens without a word.

Shen Xu once climbed out of the back seat of his car, got into the driver’s seat, and repeatedly reversed into a paparazzi vehicle that had been tailing him—once, twice, three times—before driving off.

Shen Xu attended an event with a female co-star in the morning, where they chatted happily. By noon, their “CP” (couple) topic trended. Only an hour later, Shen Xu released a video clarification where the actress admitted her team had tried to force a marketing tie-in with him and issued a public apology.

Case after case, when it came to things that crossed his line, Shen Xu preferred action over words. Pei Yutai wouldn’t even be surprised if he offended Shen Xu and the man personally held his head underwater to feed the sharks.

But I was clearly targeting Lin Yizhou? Why did Shen Xu warn me? He shook his head; surely Shen Xu had just misunderstood his intent.

Jiang Siyuan walked up to Lin Yizhou’s side, his smile looking pure and harmless, his tone soft: “Yizhou, look, I told you we were destined…”

Before he could finish, a voice cut in abruptly: “It’s just a one-fifth probability of ‘destiny.’ I don’t think that’s worth emphasizing.”

The smile on Jiang Siyuan’s face stiffened for a moment before returning to normal. He looked directly into the eyes behind Shen Xu’s black frames and countered, “Aren’t you in the same boat, Mr. Shen? The same one. Fifth. Probability.”

Shen Xu was about to argue back when someone spoke up for him. Lin Yizhou said calmly, “He is different from you. He is also a senior at my new agency.”

Shen Xu adjusted his glasses, covering his mouth to hide an uncontrollable grin. Although “senior” wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, for now, he was more than satisfied. More importantly, Lin Yizhou had spoken up for him! That mattered more than anything. Even if Lin Yizhou called him a dog he’d raised in a past life, he’d bark on command.

Fighting to keep a straight face, Shen Xu looked up and couldn’t resist shooting a triumphant eyebrow waggle at Jiang Siyuan.

Jiang Siyuan raised an eyebrow back. “If we’re putting it that way, don’t we have a different kind of ‘destiny’ between us?”

As he spoke, he stared intently at Lin Yizhou, seemingly waiting to see a dramatic reaction. Lin Yizhou knew exactly what he was hinting at—the fact that he was a “stand-in.” Unfortunately for Jiang, he no longer cared about that at all.

His expression remained placid as he replied tonelessly, “That’s not destiny. That’s insulation.”

Jiang Siyuan wanted to say more, but a soft female voice interrupted: “What is everyone chatting about? Since we’re going to be a team, can I get to know you all?”

Shen Xu looked at the newcomer and smiled. “Of course. Sister Yue, we were just getting to know each other.”

The newcomer was Wen Yue, an actress with an impeccable reputation. Known by fans as the “National Older Sister”—gentle, kind, yet resilient—she had been nominated for many major awards but, unfortunately, had always been the bridesmaid and never the bride. Shen Xu had worked on a commercial with her once; they kept in touch and were on good terms.

Wen Yue introduced herself again, then looked at Lin Yizhou. “Yizhou, do you remember me? About three years ago, we had the chance to work on a movie together.”

“You probably don’t remember. I was a ‘nobody’ back then playing a tiny role, while you were the lead. We only had one simple scene together.”

Three years ago… Lin Yizhou thought for a moment, then looked slightly surprised. “Windy Tower? You were Xiao Zi?”

Wen Yue smiled and nodded. “Yes! You actually remember. But it’s a pity…”

How could Lin Yizhou forget? Three years ago, he had exploded in popularity after playing the second male lead in the world-renowned director Wen Yika’s film Rebirth from Death. The script for Windy Tower had found him during that peak; it was the first male lead script he had received in the five years since his debut. He remembered it vividly.

But unfortunately, he had only finished half of that movie before his career was cut short by the black materials fabricated by Song Chizheng.

[Bullet Chat]: Windy Tower? The one Nan Qiguang starred in? That movie was amazing. Costumes, plot, acting—everything was top-tier. Didn’t Nan Qiguang get famous because of that movie?

[Bullet Chat]: What’s there to be “pity” about? Didn’t Song Chizheng clear Lin Yizhou’s name later? Song even arranged three blockbuster movies for him. He only got his Best Actor award because of those movies. It’s a blessing in disguise.

[Bullet Chat]: I don’t feel bad for him either. With Lin Yizhou’s “backdoor” Best Actor title, his acting isn’t even on the same level as Nan Qiguang’s, okay? If he had finished that movie, it might have been ruined instead of becoming a classic.

[Bullet Chat]: Wait, Nan Qiguang is on this show too. Looking at it this way… damn… almost everyone here has a history with Lin Yizhou!

“I…”

“Sh—”

Two voices spoke at once. Shen Xu looked up, crossed his arms, and turned to Pei Yutai standing opposite him. He let out a faint smirk. “I’m a person who likes to look after the youth. Little Brother Pei, why don’t you go first?”

Support