The Scum Gong Refuses the Crematorium [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 13

The news of Sheng Yan investing in Guo Hang’s micro-movie soon reached Song Liguang’s ears.

Lately, Song Liguang had been extremely irritable because he couldn’t stop Sheng Yan and Lu Mingyue from getting together. Hearing this made him even angrier. “Has he become addicted to being an investor or something?”

Among all of Sheng Yan’s “second-generation” friends, Song Liguang disliked Guo Hang the most. Other friends might not like him, but they kept their mouths shut. Only Guo Hang would mock him—subtly or overtly—every time he visited the bar, reminding him repeatedly that he was just a substitute for Lu Mingyue and telling him to stop dreaming of becoming a “phoenix” perched on a high branch.

Song Liguang would be fuming, yet he had to suppress his rage and pretend he didn’t have those ambitions. And Sheng Yan, that “scumbag,” never stood up for him, allowing Guo Hang to bully him freely.

In Song Liguang’s original script, when Sheng Yan reached the “Chasing Wife Crematorium” phase (the regret phase), ruining Guo Hang would have been a peace offering to win Song Liguang back.

But now the script was a mess. Sheng Yan wasn’t following it at all. Not only did he have zero intention of “chasing his wife,” but he was now investing in his friends. This was driving Song Liguang crazy.

“What exactly went wrong?” Song Liguang racked his brain but couldn’t understand where the plot had deviated.

His system, No. 766, spoke up: “Don’t you think you’re caring too much about the ‘chasing wife’ plot lately? Don’t forget that’s only a small part of our mission. The most important plot is finding a way to make Sheng Yan suppress Lu Mingyue.”

Song Liguang scratched his hair. “I know! But Sheng Yan isn’t following the script. He was supposed to loathe Lu Mingyue, but now they’re so close they might as well be sharing a pair of pants. Forget suppression—he looks like he’s ready to hand over his entire inheritance to the guy.”

Song Liguang gnashed his teeth. Was the “White Moonlight’s” charm really that great? Could it make a “love-brain” like Sheng Yan forget all past grievances? Lu Mingyue had completely defied his expectations.

System 766 reminded him: “Perhaps it’s not that he’s ignoring the past, but rather that the series of ‘remedial measures’ Lu Mingyue took caught his attention again?”

Song Liguang nodded. “Makes sense.” If Lu Mingyue were truly useless, Sheng Yan wouldn’t have kept him in his heart for so many years, nor would he have brought home a substitute who merely looked like him.

“So, what now?” Song Liguang asked. “Should I repeat my old tricks? Break Lu Mingyue’s image in front of Sheng Yan again to make him notice me?”

But he didn’t have a second piece of leverage to ruin Lu Mingyue’s reputation.

766 advised: “To kill a snake, hit the seven-inch mark (the heart). You’re focusing too much on them as individuals. If the things they care about are destroyed at the same time, we won’t even have to act; they’ll tear each other apart.”

Song Liguang’s eyes lit up. “Lu Mingyue’s easy—his project. As for Sheng Yan…” He thought for a long time before saying: “His mother, and the company.”

Sheng Yan and his mother might bicker, but they were very close. Otherwise, why would Sheng Yan’s image of Lu Mingyue shatter just because Lu Mingyue took money from his mother? He was disillusioned with the guy, not angry at his mom.

As for the company, since Song Liguang had known him, Sheng Yan had been a workaholic, spending most of the month at the office like a money-printing machine. Even though he had resigned, the new CEO was his hand-picked protege, and he still held shares. He knew the company’s pulse.

“Lu Mingyue’s project is currently collaborating with Jiang Huaisu,” Song Liguang realized. “If the project fails, Jiang Huaisu will lose a fortune and will inevitably resent Lu Mingyue. Meanwhile, if Lu Mingyue’s project fails within Shengshi, he’ll surely be disappointed in the company.”

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. “When they start clashing, Sheng Yan will be disappointed in Lu Mingyue again. Then I just have to draw his gaze back to me.”

He already had two “pieces” planted in Shengshi. He wouldn’t even have to get his hands dirty.

However, it couldn’t be now. The incident where he and Lu Mingyue clashed was too recent. If something went wrong with the project now, any fool would know it was him. He had to let the matter fade. Make them think he had given up on Sheng Yan before striking.

Of course, he couldn’t let them forget him entirely. He needed to maintain some “presence,” or else he’d be working for nothing if they both forgot him during their fight.

Song Liguang’s mind whirred. “Guo Hang is filming a web series, right? My manager wanted me to look into that market anyway. I’ll take on a web series and release it at the same time to crush them. They won’t be able to ignore me then.”

In his mind, Guo Hang was an amateur who hadn’t touched a camera in years. They were beginners who couldn’t afford big stars. Even with money, they wouldn’t make a splash.

He was different. Before becoming a “task-taker,” he was a Film Emperor in his own world. Acting was second nature, and he had spent years building a reputation and fan base here. With a famous director and a top-tier script, he didn’t believe he could lose to a newbie’s micro-movie.

He actually began to look forward to humiliating Guo Hang. After years of feeling suppressed, he could finally slap his face.

But beyond that, he didn’t want Sheng Yan’s life to be too peaceful. He asked System 766: “Jiang Huaisu probably doesn’t know about Sheng Yan investing in Guo Hang’s movie yet, right?”

“Likely not,” 766 replied.

Song Liguang smirked. “If she finds out, mother and son will definitely have another row. And if Lu Mingyue is caught in the middle, the show will be even better.”

Jiang Huaisu didn’t like Lu Mingyue, didn’t like him, and certainly didn’t like Guo Hang especially after Guo Hang’s family went bankrupt and he opened a bar. To her, a bar was an “indecent” place. For a long time, she believed Sheng Yan’s interest in men was a “bad habit” picked up from hanging around people like Guo Hang.

Since Sheng Yan drank heavily and had a weak stomach, she disliked Guo Hang even more and often told Sheng Yan to stop playing with them. If she found out they were co-investing and getting closer, she would explode. Adding Lu Mingyue to the mix was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

Song Liguang settled in to watch the chaos.

After a week of training, Meng Nanqiao finally adapted to the camera. He no longer looked stiff or constrained, and his lines were clear without that heavy, robotic feeling.

As for acting, Guo Hang’s main focus was “realism.” A little acting was enough; he prioritized Meng Nanqiao’s genuine reactions.

Once everything was ready, Guo Hang shouted, “Action!”

When the image of Meng Nanqiao carrying a tray to serve drinks appeared on the monitor, Sheng Yan leaned over. “Does it feel right this time?”

Guo Hang nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes! This is exactly the feeling I wanted.”

Seeing that he was completely immersed, Sheng Yan didn’t disturb him further and went off to play with 666 (the cat).

On the other side, Lu Mingyue—having finished another project phase—spent his day off washing up and sleeping. Waking up with nothing to do, he found Guo Hang’s message from a few days ago inviting him to the set.

He hesitated. He didn’t have many friends in the country; his old classmates had scattered. Guo Hang was warm toward him and chatted frequently. Though it was mostly trivial matters, it made Lu Mingyue smile during work breaks.

But the problem was that he was Sheng Yan’s friend. Going to the set meant an 80% chance of running into Sheng Yan. Before all the recent mess, Lu Mingyue would have gone without a thought. But since that night at the bar, thinking of Sheng Yan made him feel… uneasy.

It felt like Sheng Yan had stopped being the “love-brain,” and now he was the one developing a “love-brain” instead.

Lu Mingyue shook his head. He hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was he feeling guilty? Not going felt like he was hiding; going felt awkward. Since it was awkward either way, he decided to just go. Even if there was an 80% chance of seeing Sheng Yan, there was still a 20% chance he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d get lucky.

With that thought, Lu Mingyue walked into the bar. As soon as he entered, he saw Sheng Yan supervising with 666.

Man and cat were sitting at a round table covered in snacks, both watching the “stage” with interest.

Lu Mingyue’s scalp felt numb. Luck truly wasn’t on his side. He walked over anyway. “Hello, Boss. Hello, Boss’s Wife (the cat).”

Man and cat turned to look at him simultaneously. Two pairs of amber eyes, equally beautiful.

Sheng Yan nodded. 666 flicked its tail at Lu Mingyue and turned back to the set.

“Sit,” Sheng Yan pointed to a chair.

Lu Mingyue glanced at Guo Hang, saw he was busy, and sat down. The scene changed from a man and a cat supervising to two people and a cat.

When Guo Hang finished a scene, he looked over at Sheng Yan’s table. To him, they looked exactly like a family of three. He saved the footage and walked over, smiling. “Brother Lu, you’re off today?”

Lu Mingyue nodded. “Are you finished?”

“Finished this scene. We have to wait for the next set to be built,” Guo Hang grabbed some fruit from the table with a toothpick. “Brother Lu, did you see that scene? How was my directing?”

From that distance, Lu Mingyue could mostly see the backs of the cameramen. He couldn’t see much detail, but he smiled. “Very good. Keep at it, and you’ll definitely achieve your dream.”

Guo Hang nodded. “I think so too.”

“Did James say anything?” Lu Mingyue asked.

Guo Hang was full of praise. “My idol is amazing. He said my topic is very fresh. He helped with the storyboards and taught me a bunch of international blockbuster filming techniques. I have a feeling this micro-movie will have a better texture than most web series out there.”

Lu Mingyue laughed. “It’s good that you’re confident.”

Guo Hang was a natural optimist. Even if he failed, he wouldn’t fall into despair. Confidence was a good thing for him.

While they chatted, Sheng Yan gave 666 some water. Noticing Lu Mingyue was sitting very straight, he said to Guo Hang, “Go get a pillow.”

“Oh! Right, right!” Guo Hang realized what he meant. He hurried to find a throw pillow and placed it behind Lu Mingyue’s lower back. “Brother Lu, this should be more comfortable.”

Lu Mingyue was stunned. “This is…?”

Guo Hang explained, “Brother Lu, the idol told us everything.”

Years ago, shortly after Lu Mingyue went abroad, he was robbed while buying groceries. He was stabbed in the waist and kicked several times. After the robbers left, he had crawled to a phone booth to call for help while clutching his wound.

But the hospitals abroad were impersonal; you had to wait in line unless you were dying or had money. Lu Mingyue paid extra. However, the man behind him in line—James—was in a worse state. He had been hit by a falling object while filming and needed immediate spinal surgery. Lu Mingyue, thinking his own wound wasn’t that bad since it had stopped bleeding, gave his surgery slot to James.

But while waiting, Lu Mingyue developed a high fever from the pain. The other doctors ignored him because he was a foreigner. By the time James was out of surgery, Lu Mingyue had passed out from pain. When he woke up, the wound had left a permanent, painful sequel due to the delay in treatment.

His field of study and work required long hours of sitting, making back pain a daily torture. Being proud, he never told anyone. Only James, a fellow patient and grateful survivor, knew the details. James had told Sheng Yan and the others with red eyes: “If he hadn’t given me his slot, I wouldn’t be here today. So, don’t be formal with me.”

Hearing this, Lu Mingyue didn’t say anything. He leaned back into the pillow and glanced at Sheng Yan. “Is Brother Sheng worried about me?”

He was just joking to lighten the mood.

He didn’t expect Sheng Yan to actually reply: “Mhm. I’m worried about you.”

Now it was Lu Mingyue’s turn to be embarrassed.

Fortunately, the silence didn’t last long. Jiang Huaisu’s voice rang out from behind them: “Sheng Yan!”