Everyone I Flirted With Says They Won’t Let Me Go (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 19

If he doesn’t move, I won’t move. If the award-winning actor doesn’t speak, I won’t speak. Awkwardness is just awkwardness. It makes people remember, and it brings people closer.

The assistant behind him was still trembling. The award-winning actor hadn’t said a word, and his expression was unreadable. It was eerie, deeply unsettling.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m about to die of awkwardness.

“Um…”

As soon as the words “Xia Chengxi” left his mouth, Actor Shu turned and walked away without hesitation. Xia Chengxi panicked instantly, jogging a few steps to catch up, and two more words slipped out.

“Wenjin… I mean, Mr. Shu, please let me explain.”

Xia Chengxi clung desperately to the car door. “That was all nonsense. I was just bragging to my friends. How could I dare to hope you’d treat me to a meal? Really, even if you invited me, I wouldn’t dare to go.”

Shu Wenjin looked at him, his gaze sharp as a sword, cold and intimidating enough to make anyone hold their breath. If it were someone with a thinner skin, they’d probably have withered on the spot.

Xia Chengxi, who had just been charming the entire audience on stage and making them laugh, now seemed to have lost his voice in front of Shu Wenjin. He stammered for a long time without managing to explain clearly, his face flushing red with anxiety, tears welling up in his eyes.

Shu Wenjin looked at him. “No need to explain. I understand. Thank you for today.”

Huh?

Xia Chengxi was taken aback, scratching his head sheepishly. “No, it was my duty.”

Shu Wenjin glanced around. The night was chilly, and a light rain had begun to fall.

“No one’s here to pick you up?”

Xia Chengxi’s mind raced along with the topic. “No.”

Shu Wenjin glanced down at his phone, which had lit up with a notification—likely a text message. After reading it, he said to Xia Chengxi, “Then let’s go. I’ll treat you to a meal. Will you honor me with your presence?”

Oh my god, their relationship as mere acquaintances was finally progressing.

Xia Chengxi nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, yes!”

The assistant stifled a laugh. “Weren’t you saying you didn’t dare to go?”

Xia Chengxi wasn’t angered by the teasing. He lowered his head and smiled shyly. “That was all nonsense. It’s an honor to have Mr. Shu treat me to a meal.”

[Little Green Hat, Little Green Hat, how’s my acting?]
[The award for Best Actor is just around the corner.]

Relieved, Xia Chengxi got into Shu Wenjin’s luxurious high-end car. He sat upright, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead without daring to move a muscle, looking utterly restrained.

So well-behaved.

Shu Wenjin, amused by his elementary school student-like posture, said with a hint of laughter in his voice, “From what you said earlier, it sounds like your agent wanted you to accompany someone for drinks?”

Xia Chengxi cursed himself inwardly for being foolish. Actor Shu had been in the entertainment industry for years—what kind of underhanded tactics hadn’t he encountered? He naturally understood the struggles newcomers faced.

He should have just confessed everything earlier. Maybe he could have played the pitiful card in front of Actor Shu and earned some goodwill as a mere acquaintance.

Xia Chengxi put on a dejected, hopeless expression. “Yeah, Brother Chen said the company wanted me to attend a dinner. I didn’t want to go, so I lied and said I was with you.”

“Smooth talker.”

Xia Chengxi didn’t argue. “I had no choice. I’m just glad you’re not upset that I used you as a shield.”

Shu Wenjin looked out the window and said nothing.

The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy.

Xia Chengxi certainly couldn’t let the awkwardness linger. Otherwise, a living person could suffocate from it.

“I know perfectly well that you can run but you can’t hide. I’m not particularly talented—my career is built entirely on my looks. While I’m still young, I can make some money in idol dramas. Unlike you, who can become a film emperor, I just take things one step at a time. When the day comes that I can’t escape anymore, I’ll just leave this industry.”

Shu Wenjin turned his head and looked at him. “Then tell me, why did you enter this industry in the first place?”

Having a heart-to-heart with a film emperor required complete focus.

“I didn’t receive formal training. I was chosen in a talent show because of my face. I’ve spent a few years honing my acting skills, and now they’re passable. Although I love acting, I never get offered major productions—just low-budget idol dramas that people watch, laugh at, and forget. I really wish I could be like you, starring in a few memorable films, meaningful works. But this industry isn’t that kind. I’m just an idol star. I’ll never become an actor like you.”

Xia Chengxi mustered his courage, lifted his head, and looked at him with sincere, burning eyes. “You’ve always been my idol. I truly deeply admire you.”

After a long silence, Shu Wenjin finally squeezed out a few words from his throat, “Mm, I understand.”

Xia Chengxi finally relaxed and looked out the window, allowing the atmosphere in the car to grow heavy.

At least he had managed to improve Shu Wenjin’s impression of him. Now, he could only take it slow—he absolutely couldn’t rush things.

Shu Wenjin’s phone screen lit up again. After glancing at it, he said to Xia Chengxi, “I can’t have dinner with you today. Something came up last minute. I’ll treat you another day. Where do you live? I’ll drop you off.”

“Don’t trouble yourself. You can just drop me off ahead. I’ll have someone from my company pick me up.”

Shu Wenjin thought for a moment but didn’t insist. He nodded in agreement and instructed the driver to stop at the next turn. Xia Chengxi stood by the roadside, wearing a mask, watching Shu Wenjin’s car until it disappeared.

Shu Wenjin’s assistant glanced at Xia Chengxi through the rearview mirror. “Sir, where are we heading?”

Shu Wenjin leaned back wearily. “To the airport.”

The assistant immediately understood and directed the driver toward the airport.

Only when Shu Wenjin’s car was completely out of sight did Xia Chengxi finally look away. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. It was freezing.

He didn’t dare call his company for a ride. After all, he had boasted earlier, and now he had to keep up appearances even if it hurt. Alone, he walked along the road.

Late at night, with everything quiet, a light drizzle began to fall. It was hard to find a taxi near the suburbs. Xia Chengxi walked for three or four kilometers before finally flagging one down. He curled up in the back seat, mumbled the name of a residential area, and drifted into a drowsy sleep.

By the time the driver woke him, it was already 2 a.m. He went home, collapsed into bed, and slept straight through until noon the next day.

And by then, his phone had been ringing nonstop.

Xia Chengxi answered the phone groggily. “Hey, Brother Chen, what’s up?”

Chen Yue was fuming on the other end. “What’s up? You dare ask me what’s up? You! Usually, you’re all slick talk, but now you have the nerve to lie to me? Tell me honestly, who were you with last night?”

Xia Chengxi’s mind raced through several possibilities. “What? What happened?”

“What happened? You have the nerve to ask me? Yesterday I asked you to attend a dinner, but you said you were going to have a meal with Shu Wenjin. Fine, I believed you. I immediately explained to the company executives that you had something else to do and couldn’t make it. But look at you—early this morning, photos of you getting out of Shu Wenjin’s car were all over the internet.”

Chen Yue was so angry he laughed. “What a pitiful sight! You walked along the main road for an hour or two, and then the scene shifts—turns out Shu Wenjin went to pick someone up from the airport. Now it’s a mess. The company executives know you stood up Gu Cheng yesterday to cozy up to Shu Wenjin, only to be kicked out of the car halfway so Shu Wenjin could go pick up Xie Yuchi. In just one night, do you have any idea how many versions of this story have been spun online?”

Xia Chengxi replied honestly, “No, I just woke up.”

Chen Yue had been worn down all morning and had no energy left for anger. “My god, why did you have to offend Gu Cheng, of all people? Do you think Gu Cheng is someone you can just stand up? Even if he specifically asked Shu Wenjin to accompany him, Shu Wenjin would have to obediently go. How could you be so ungrateful?”

Xia Chengxi felt wronged. “But I really was with Shu Wenjin yesterday.”

“If you have the guts to latch onto Shu Wenjin, you should have the guts to keep it under wraps! Alright, alright, I won’t say more. The company executives are furious about your behavior. For now, focus on filming your TV drama. All other schedules are suspended until further notice.”

With that, he hung up.

Xia Chengxi stared blankly at his phone, pouted, got up, and washed up. Not long after, his assistant knocked on the door to take him to the set.

Since he had taken a few days off to appear on a Mango TV show, Xia Chengxi now had to return to filming his romantic idol drama.

In the car, the assistant kept glancing at him as if wanting to say something, but Xia Chengxi ignored him and scrolled through Weibo. He was stunned to see himself trending again.

Xia Chengxi had good looks, but he wasn’t money—not everyone would like him. As soon as the photos spread online, celebrities who had long held grudges against him seized the opportunity to laugh at his misfortune, hiring water armies and marketing accounts to drag him down. They painted him as a scheming, opportunistic social climber.

Most of Shu Wenjin’s fans were mature and, as usual, handled the situation with grace. After all, countless minor celebrities like Xia Chengxi had tried to ride on the actor’s coattails in the past.

Of course, some of Xia Chengxi’s younger, appearance-focused fans couldn’t stand the overwhelming criticism and lashed out.

One fan’s backlash could overshadow ten antis. Marketing accounts took advantage of the situation, highlighting the harsh comments from these young fans on their front pages. Xia Chengxi’s public image plummeted, with people exclaiming, “Like idol, like fan.” In just one night, he lost hundreds of thousands of Weibo followers. Of the 100,000 comments under his latest post, 80,000 were insults calling him shameless.

Shu Wenjin had also just woken up when he saw the news. As he ate breakfast and read the articles, he felt an inexplicable discomfort upon seeing the desolate image of Xia Chengxi walking alone late at night.

Xie Yuchi glanced over and sneered, “What, feeling sorry for him? You should’ve said something earlier. If I’d known you had someone in your car last night, I wouldn’t have asked you to pick me up.”

Xie Yuchi had always been sharp-tongued. Known as the “Ice Queen” in the entertainment industry, her cold demeanor was legendary.

Seeing that he remained silent, Xie Yuchi took a sip of coffee, stretched lazily, and lowered his captivating peach-blossom eyes halfway. He then handed the half-drunk coffee to Shu Wenjin’s lips. “You, the esteemed film emperor Shu, are far too busy to bother with such trivial matters. After all, there are plenty of small-time celebrities who cry, beg, and scheme day and night just to get close to you. Worrying about him would only cheapen your reputation.”

Shu Wenjin set his phone aside, took a sip of the rich, aromatic coffee, and nodded. “Mm.”

At the same time, in the study of the Gu family villa, Gu Cheng stared at the photo on his phone—the back of someone who had once haunted his dreams. He then made another call, his cool voice carrying through the line. “That artist under your company has quite the nerve.”

On the other end of the line, apologies poured out incessantly. “Mr. Gu, I’m truly sorry. I never expected someone who seemed so clean and innocent to be so cunning. Please don’t be angry. After what he did last night, the company can no longer keep him.”

“Who said I was angry?”

“Then what do you mean…?”

“He’s good-looking and his acting is passable. Don’t let that go to waste. Also, take care of those online comments. They’re an eyesore.”

The other end of the line quickly agreed. “Ah, yes, I understand.”

After hanging up, Gu Cheng gazed out the window, a mix of helplessness and indulgence in his eyes. He chuckled softly and muttered, “Heartless little liar.”