I Became Famous in the Entertainment Industry with High Martial Arts Skills - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: The Blood-Sucking Scumbag Father

In his mind, the damp and gloomy memories of the original owner being raised in his adoptive family after his parents passed away when he was four years old suddenly surfaced with clarity.

Xie Ci’s eyes grew cold, and he unhesitatingly tapped the record button on his phone screen.

“What? You’ve made it big out there, become a big star? And now you won’t recognize the father who raised you?” Hearing no response from Xie Ci, the man’s voice on the other end had already grown irritable and impatient.

“Raised me? Raised me without giving me a single penny?” Xie Ci’s voice was very calm.

The man on the other end seemed to have been poked in a sore spot and instantly flew into a rage. “You damn jinx, I was kind enough to take you in and give you a place to stay, that was already good enough…”

Perhaps because he was constantly soaked in alcohol and nicotine, the original owner’s adoptive father, Zhuang Chengcai, spoke in a muddled order. He often couldn’t say more than a few complete sentences before launching into a string of foul-mouthed insults.

“…If someone hadn’t told me you’ve struck it rich, and if I hadn’t come looking for you myself, I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed a bit of your benefit until the day I died.” Zhuang Chengcai grew tired of cursing, and finally revealed his true intention. “Transfer 200,000 yuan to me first; I have an urgent matter.”

200,000 yuan. In the decade or so the original owner spent in the Zhuang family, he probably hadn’t even cost them 20,000. Zhuang Chengcai was completely making an exorbitant demand.

Xie Ci’s personality was usually gentle, and he rarely argued with others. However, the words he spoke now showed no mercy, directly tearing away Zhuang Chengcai’s face and trampling it on the ground.

“Urgent matter? Urgent to go gambling? Or urgent to get dead drunk and then come home to hit people to vent your anger?”

There was a bone-chilling coldness in his eyes. In his memory, the young original owner relied on picking up trash and selling recyclables to scrape together his school fees, only to return to his utility-room bedroom one day to find his piggy bank completely empty. Even though Xie Ci could only glimpse this from a distance in memory, he could personally feel the despair in the young owner’s heart back then.

When the original owner was ten, his adoptive parents’ biological son was six. The adoptive father, who was originally considered honest, became addicted to gambling, bringing the greatest upheaval to this ordinary family. Drunkenness, excessive gambling, domestic violence for years afterward, the original owner, the adoptive mother, and the younger brother had to face the storms brought by the father and his endless messes. This was the original owner’s entire impression of this home.

Picked locks, smashed piggy banks, being beaten by his adoptive father in front of classmates… piece by piece, these things nearly crushed the boy who had no way out. This was why he was so desperate to leave this “home” the moment he reached adulthood, even while penniless.

Anywhere was fine, as long as it wasn’t in this home that never belonged to him.

Perhaps the subconscious blurs painful memories; Xie Ci searched his mind for a long while before finding this fragmented pain that the original owner had hidden in the deepest recesses.

The insults on the other end of the phone were continuous. The drunken words were like sharp blades, every sentence dragging in the original owner’s long-deceased parents, cursing him to the core.

Xie Ci pursed his lips tightly. Only when the other person grew tired of shouting did he turn off the recording and hang up the phone.

“Xiao Ci…”, hearing the call end, Mo Li, who was driving beside him, spoke hesitantly, wanting to comfort his friend.

“It’s fine. Let’s go back to the hotel first.” Xie Ci was very calm. What the original owner needed was not anyone’s comfort, but to completely uproot this tumor that had haunted his life and solve it once and for all.

Xie Ci closed his eyes in fatigue and began to search his mind for a person’s number.

In a dilapidated rental house, Zhuang Ming listened to the sound of his mother’s sobbing outside, remaining indifferent as he stayed in the bedroom. His thumb and forefinger tightly gripped the cheapest black gel pen, neurotically scribbling on messy, yellowed scratch paper on the desk.

Suddenly, on his phone screen—which had cracked like a spiderweb during a confrontation with his father’s violence—a message from an unknown number popped up. In the message, the line “Zhuang Ming, I am Xie Ci, I have something to discuss with you” was clear.

Outside the thin, old wooden door, his mother gave a cry of pain, followed by tearful wailing: “Xiao Ming, come out quickly and help your father up! You child, your father is sleeping outside the door and you don’t even think to help him into the house!”

Zhuang Ming was called out. While enduring the foul smell of alcohol and cigarettes on Zhuang Chengcai, he numbly listened to his mother’s fragmented accusations. His fingers brushed the phone in his pocket, and his heart—which had long been drained of all emotion suddenly beat very fast.

On set, because the scene to be filmed today was quite special, Ming Yang moved the filming location to an ancient-style temple in another film base in B City.

In this scene, the Sixth Prince, in order to please the Empress Dowager who practiced Buddhism, specifically went to a temple famous for its Buddhist teachings outside the capital to pray. Wan Yuya, as a member of the Red Crow Guard, accompanied him to protect his safety along with others.

On the old blue flagstones, the dappled shadows of trees swayed, splashing light shadows on the ground. A few curls of rising blue smoke drifted from the bronze incense burner in the main hall. The wind chimes hanging from the eaves swayed gently in the breeze, emitting bursts of clear, crisp ringing.

Ming Yang checked the surrounding set to ensure there were no anachronisms, then raised the megaphone and clearly issued the command to start filming. The director of photography stood by the monitor, focused on directing the camera’s track changes.

Inside the hall, the solemn Buddha statue was gilded in gold, its eyes half-closed in pity for the world. Sunlight poured from the doorway onto the old prayer mats used for many years, drawing out half a curl of faint sandalwood scent.

The Sixth Prince, played by Yan Feng, had his hair bound in a jade crown. He knelt in the center, holding incense with closed eyes. His usually defiant face appeared a few degrees more peaceful here. Under the facade of devout prayer, however, lay a hint of undetectable disdain.

Wan Yuya, played by Xie Ci, knelt on the prayer mat behind the Sixth Prince with lowered eyes. The red mole on the tip of his nose flickered as the light shifted. In his jade-white hands, he held three lit incense sticks; every move was exceptionally sincere.

As the Sixth Prince rose ahead of him, Wan Yuya followed suit, inserting the three incense sticks into the burner filled with a thick layer of ash. Faint blue smoke spiraled in the air. The rustling of footsteps mixed with the bustle of the crew. Xie Ci listened to the vague ringing of the eaves’ wind chimes and lifted his eyes to look at the tall, merciful Buddha statue in the center of the hall.

“Cut! This take is done. Everyone pack up and prepare to change locations for the next scene!” The assistant director directed the staff nearby to quickly finish the tasks for this scene. In the director’s monitor, the frame froze on that single glance Xie Ci cast toward the parasol tree outside the hall.

After finishing the night’s filming, Xie Ci found Ming Yang and briefly explained that he had something to attend to tomorrow afternoon, hoping to adjust the filming schedule.

“Sure. There aren’t many scenes scheduled for tomorrow afternoon anyway. If you need any help, just speak up.” After hearing Xie Ci’s request, Ming Yang agreed after a brief thought. Looking at the slightly haggard Xie Ci, she wondered if she had pushed him too hard, given that even the most hardworking Xie Ci was starting to ask for leave. Thinking of this, Ming Yang called an assistant and instructed her to order another batch of supplements and also to upgrade the quality of the crew’s lunch boxes.

Seeing Ming Yang nod, Xie Ci gave a look to Mo Li and Xiao Ya, and the three returned to the car together. Outside the window in the night, the film base remained brightly lit.

Xie Ci glanced at yesterday’s text message; the other party had only replied with three words: “Talk by phone.” Looking at the two worried faces beside him, Xie Ci expressionlessly dialed the number.

“Zhuang Ming,” Xie Ci spoke first after the call connected.

“Brother.” The boy on the other end was still in the voice-changing period, and his voice was somewhat raspy.

Zhuang Ming suppressed his thumping heart. On the old television screen before him, which had several cracks, a rerun of Xie Ci’s Han River Crossing was playing. In the drama, the Wan Yuya played by Xie Ci was so beautiful and sharp it was unbelievable completely different from the “invisible person” at home before.

In just one year, his coward brother was doing very well, no longer looking like that gloomy and annoying person from before.

The voice on the other end reached Zhuang Ming’s ears: “Do you know if anyone has contacted Zhuang Chengcai recently?”

Xie Ci knew in his heart that a man like Zhuang Chengcai had completely become a slave to the gambling table. He lived in a daze usually, and besides gambling, there was nothing else in his eyes he cared about. In that small county where the entertainment industry was underdeveloped, a middle-aged man like him wouldn’t follow any entertainment news.

Furthermore, when the original owner was at home, he always had an image of head down and shoulders slumped, cowardly and weak. Thick bangs plus silent black-framed glasses were the armor he used to protect himself, while also blocking out most prying eyes. For Zhuang Chengcai to recognize a Xie Ci who looked like a different person after working, and to learn the new number he changed to after terminating his contract, there was absolutely someone else pushing from behind.

Sure enough, Zhuang Ming spoke: “Mom said a man surnamed Wang has called Dad several times recently and added him on social media to ask for photos of your old things.” He told Xie Ci exactly what he had probed from his mother the night before.

As if remembering something, Zhuang Ming added: “Lately, Dad often makes me look up what you’re doing now, and he asks me and Mom if we’ve had any contact with you.”

“I understand. Find a way to get the chat records between Zhuang Chengcai and the person surnamed Wang. If you need help, call this number.” Xie Ci asked a few more questions.

Having obtained the key information, Xie Ci didn’t dawdle. After telling Zhuang Ming what he wanted, he decisively transferred 10,000 yuan enough for two years of university tuition for Zhuang Ming in the future.

“If Zhuang Chengcai contacts that person again, remember to record it for me.” Xie Ci hung up the phone while getting out of the car. Having arrived at the house where he now lived, he began searching for a tin box he had brought over from the old rental.

Out of respect for the original owner, he had packed some of the things left behind into this tin box, thinking that if he had the chance in the future, he would reunite the original owner’s items with his long-deceased parents.

Click.

The rusty iron lock was opened. Inside the tin box, several yellowed notebooks came into view, along with a yellowed adoption agreement and various fragmented “IOUs.”

Xie Ci’s eyes were dark as he picked up an IOU. Under the bright incandescent light in the bedroom, the lines on the IOU were clear: “Debtor Xie Ci borrows 500 yuan for school fees from Zhuang Chengcai, with a 20% annual compound interest, to be paid in full after reaching adulthood.”

Word for word, it was cold to the extreme, harsher than a loan shark. It was hard to imagine a father making such a demand of a child, even if the child was adopted.

Struggling to suppress the anger in his heart, Xie Ci managed to calm his emotions. Then he picked up his phone and sent a message to Xiao Ya, specifically asking for the numbers of a few people.

In a dark and damp rental room, the eyes of a girl with delicate features were somewhat numb and vacant. Because she was extremely strapped for cash, she could only dryly eat the cheapest near-expiry instant noodles.

When the phone rang, A-Le instinctively shivered, accidentally knocking over the chopsticks in her noodle bowl. Red oil splashed onto her face, causing a sting.

Ever since she refused to accept Wang Mingde’s pimping operations, A-Le had paid a large sum of money and barely managed to terminate her contract. Deeply in debt, she had spent these past few months working odd jobs everywhere to barely maintain her life. She didn’t really want to answer the phone.

When she was an artist under Wang Mingde, because she wouldn’t follow orders, the painful memory of her phone number being maliciously sold to some lecherous men was still vivid. But right now she was short on money, and every call could be an acquaintance offering work.

After hesitating repeatedly, A-Le still tapped the answer key.

On the other end, contrary to the vulgar language she expected, it was a clean and gentle male voice.

“Hello, I am Xie Ci. I asked Li Yajun for your contact information, so I apologize for the intrusion.” Having learned of A-Le’s situation from Xiao Ya, Xie Ci’s tone was very soft, for fear of startling her.

Even though A-Le had been too exhausted by life lately to have any time for following dramas, she had heard customers discuss the second male lead of Han River Crossing, Xie Ci. In A-Le’s memory, Xie Ci was a pale, beautiful, handsome guy who was always quiet in the company; his gloomy and unpopular aura detracted quite a bit from his perfect looks, but Wang Mingde still looked at Xie Ci with those disgusting eyes as if he were a commodity waiting for a price.

A few days after Xie Ci joined the company, A-Le, who had signed six months earlier, couldn’t stand the endless drinking parties and the unavoidable “salty pig hands” [groping]. She preferred to borrow loans to terminate her contract. Upon leaving, she looked at the new batch of newcomers whose eyes were full of expectation, wanting to give a few words of warning, but forced by life and afraid to offend Wang Mingde again, she could only watch as a new version of herself jumped into the fiery pit.

A-Le was silent for several minutes before stuttering her response to Xie Ci’s greeting. “He-hello, Xie Ci, I… I am A-Le.”

Xie Ci heard the panic in her tone and made his voice even softer. “Do you have time tomorrow afternoon? I have something I would like to ask your help with. You can choose the location.”

A-Le had almost no hesitation. She vaguely felt that this was an opportunity to change her current situation, and she nodded in agreement. “I have time. Can I send you the location and time later?”

Xie Ci agreed. After hanging up, he sat on the sofa, slowly sorting through the original owner’s memories of his adoptive parents’ home.

Mo Li sat beside him, opening his mouth with a frown. “What is Wang Mingde trying to do? Why did he suddenly contact your adoptive father?” He wasn’t very clear about Xie Ci’s specific family situation; when they talked about family upon joining the company, Xie Ci had remained silent, and Mo Li wasn’t a tactless person, so he never brought up the subject again.

Ever since that phone call in the car yesterday, Xie Ci had looked preoccupied. First, he asked Ming Yang for half a day off, then he asked Xiao Ya for the contact information of several artists who had stayed under Wang Mingde for a while before terminating their contracts.

Xie Ci was silent for a while. Thinking of what he was about to do, he told Mo Li exactly what had happened over these past two days.

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