The Scummy Top Desperately Tries to Win Back His Ex After the Breakup - Chapter 1

Four years ago.

High-rise concrete buildings stood in dense rows like a forest. As the clock tower’s hands struck twelve, the neon lights flickered to life; the nightlife was only just beginning.

“President Pei, keep drinking.” A stout man with a bloated face, clutching a curvaceous C-list starlet in his arms, was reeking of alcohol. Drunk and swaying, he kept thrusting his glass forward.

“Drink! We aren’t going home until we’re wasted!”

“…”

Pei Youting took a discreet step back to distance himself from the drunkard. The man’s stench mixed with the woman’s heavy perfume made him feel physically ill, yet he maintained a mask of polite, refined smiles. “Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom.”

“Hey, wait, hey.”

The man, head spinning from the booze, tried to stop him, but someone nearby, who was quick to read the room, stepped forward just in time to block his path.

This party was hosted by the director of a recent blockbuster film as a victory banquet. Pei Youting had been invited as an investor; his current little flame happened to play the second male lead in the movie.

Even for someone like Pei Youting, who had seen his fair share of grand scenes, the entertainment industry was notoriously decadent. The endless stream of vulgar beauties throwing themselves into his arms was starting to turn his stomach; he preferred to find some peace and quiet outside.

Pei Youting went to the restroom to wash his face, rinsing away the cloying scents. Instead of returning to the party, he headed toward the bar’s back exit. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, but as he approached the door, he heard the faint sound of hushed voices.

“I told you, why do you have to be so stubborn? Didn’t we agree before we came to lower your posture? Letting them touch you a couple of times won’t kill you.”

The other person didn’t answer. All Pei Youting could hear was a gurgling sound, though he could not tell what was happening.

“Slow down, slow down. I told you not to drink so much.”

With the cigarette between his lips, Pei Youting pressed the lighter with one hand and pushed open the back door with the other. Suddenly, a figure lunged straight for his legs, grabbing his trouser cuff.

“Blargh!”

With a click, the lighter fell to the ground.

Pei Youting narrowed his eyes at the person slumped over his feet. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, realizing the strange gurgling sound from before was the sound of this person vomiting.

“Oh my!”

The woman standing next to the drunkard reacted first. She hurriedly pulled the person back and bowed deeply to Pei Youting. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Pei Youting waved his hand dismissively and asked with polite concern, “What happened here?”

“He drank too much.” The woman looked incredibly embarrassed. “Please don’t mind us, I’ll take him away right now.”

“This is so humiliating,” she muttered, tugging at the drunkard’s clothes. She cupped his face with both hands and gave it a few slaps. “Look at you! How are you supposed to go back like this? You’ll be eaten alive.”

The streetlights in the back alley flickered. The only bright light was the glowing cherry of Pei Youting’s cigarette, yet he managed to use that faint shimmer to see the face of the disheveled man. Coincidentally, the man was looking right back at him.

Pei Youting’s heart skipped a beat. “Jiang Zui?”

The moment he spoke, the woman was startled. She looked at him, then back at Jiang Zui, her expression blank with shock.

Jiang Zui smiled. “Pei Youting.”

Hearing that name, the woman’s eyes widened even further. Her gaze toward the slumped Jiang Zui practically screamed: What is going on here?

The two stared at each other. The atmosphere was subtle and heavy with tension. Pei Youting’s fingers tightened around his cigarette.

The alcohol seemed to finally hit his bloodstream, surging with a sudden heat. It wasn’t until his fingertips felt a sharp burn that he pulled his gaze away from Jiang Zui.

“I’m leaving now,” Pei Youting said, his voice husky. “Someone is waiting.”

He closed the back door of the bar. Just like that, the peculiar atmosphere vanished. The woman stared at the door for several seconds before regaining her senses, grabbing Jiang Zui by the collar.

“What’s wrong with you? You know him?”

“That’s Pei Youting? The Pei Youting of the Pei family?!”

Pei Youting, his grandfather was a founding hero of the country, his uncle and cousin were stalwarts in the political arena, and his father was a titan of the business world.

And then there was Jiang Zui. A washed-up artist under her management who had been doing nothing but bit parts for three years since graduating from the drama academy. He actually knew him! And from the looks of it, their relationship was anything but ordinary.

This was a bit terrifying.

“Yeah.” Jiang Zui looked up at her. He was likely drunk; his expression was somewhat unfocused as he gave her a brilliantly bright smile. “I know him. We’re quite familiar.”

“He was my first love.”

And I’ve had a crush on him for years.

It was the second half of Jiang Zui’s eleventh-grade year. It was March or April, and spring had just begun.

He stood before the classroom door, where the faint sounds of laughter and play could be heard. He took a deep breath, gripped the straps of his backpack tightly, and pushed the door open.

The noise vanished instantly, replaced by a heavy, still silence. Time seemed to freeze. Everyone turned to look at him the moment he stepped inside; their dark eyes staring like unmoving wax figures.

Those varied gazes held a spectrum of emotions: indifference from those who didn’t care, pity and sympathy, and the blatant, malicious satisfaction of those gloating over his misfortune.

Then came the explosion, the boiling over, like a red-hot iron dropped into water. Those gloating were the first to lose their restraint, their whispers spreading.

“Holy crap, did you hear about his dad?”

“Who hasn’t? Who would’ve thought? All those books he wrote that won so many awards, turns out they were all plagiarized. He even used sexual bribes on the publishing house director.”

“God, how shameless.”

“How can Jiang Zui still act so aloof? What’s he so smug about every day? I seriously can’t stand him.”

“Saving face while suffering for it. I’ve hated him for a long time.”

“Don’t listen to them.” The person sitting in front of Jiang Zui turned around. This girl was one of the few who still showed him a shred of kindness. “Are you okay?”

Jiang Zui merely shook his head, remaining silent.

A nearby classmate urged the girl, “Why are you talking to him? He won’t acknowledge you anyway. He’s like a mute.”

The girl glanced at him, sighed, and turned back around, leaving Jiang Zui sitting alone in his isolation.

At seventeen, Jiang Zui’s world had collapsed. His father, a writer he was so proud of, was exposed for plagiarizing all his works and using any means necessary for fame and fortune, even seducing the director of a publishing house. After being discovered, he was slapped in the street by the director’s wife.

In that era, the internet wasn’t yet ubiquitous, but the reports were printed across every newspaper, sweeping in like a tidal wave of contempt and verbal abuse.

His father was a man of letters with a certain degree of pride. Unable to bear the shame, he committed suicide on New Year’s Day, a time meant for family celebration. But the nightmare didn’t end with his death.

The spears were pointed at Jiang Zui. He ushered in the darkest period of his life.

At the same time, sixteen-year-old Pei Youting, a transfer student in the tenth grade, stepped out of a polished Maybach. Though only a teenager, the blueprint of his future handsome self was already clear: refined features, cold white skin, and expensive, immaculate clothing. Because his mother was of mixed Chinese and Russian descent, he possessed certain Slavic facial characteristics.

From his first step into the school, Pei Youting became the center of attention. From daily handmade lunches to a desk stuffed with love letters, Pei Youting spent his first month at the school in a state of utter boredom.

Until one day, he collided with Jiang Zui, who was carrying a large stack of books, at a corner in the stairwell.

Pei Youting knelt down to help him pick up the books. He stacked them and handed them back. For a brief moment, their eyes met, but they both quickly looked away.

“I’m sorry,” Pei Youting apologized.

Jiang Zui gave him a fleeting glance. His expression was indifferent, but Pei Youting noticed his ears were bright red, translucent like pomegranates. Jiang Zui whispered a small “It’s okay” and hurried up the stairs.

Once he was gone, a friend standing nearby crossed his arms and complained, “How unlucky, it had to be Jiang Zui.”

“Jiang Zui?”

“Yeah, he’s in the same class as some of my eleventh-grade friends. Anyway, they all hate him. They say he’s a poser, acting all pure and lofty. A girl my friend likes tried to talk to him, and he just ignored her.”

“His family had that scandal over the New Year, a huge story. You must have heard something. Man, with his family in that state, I don’t know how he can still be so stuck up.”

“Oh,” the friend seemed to remember something and added with a sneer, “He’s also the president of the school’s Drama Club. Hilarious, considering it doesn’t have a single other member.”

“Drama Club,” Pei Youting repeated.

“Yeah, why? Sounds like a total joke of a club.”

“Are club registrations happening right now?” Pei Youting suddenly changed the subject, catching the other boy off guard. “Uh, yeah.”

“Give me a registration form then. I’ll fill one out later.”

“Why so sudden?” the boy asked in surprise. “I thought you weren’t interested? Which one are you joining?”

“The Drama Club,” Pei Youting said. He thought back to that second their eyes met, and the deep red of Jiang Zui’s ears.

“I want to sign up for the Drama Club.”

As the alcohol began to cloud his mind, the face of the teenage Jiang Zui from the past merged with the drunken image from moments ago. Pei Youting splashed cold water on his face, pulling himself back to reality.

This was a film wrap party; random outsiders couldn’t get in. How did Jiang Zui end up here? Pei Youting thought, frowning.

“No way,” he suddenly thought of something and murmured softly, “He actually became an actor.”

Jiang Zui had loved acting since high school. Pei Youting had discovered this by accident while they were rehearsing a play together.

It was close to the school’s anniversary celebration, and every club had to perform. The Drama Club consisted only of Jiang Zui and Pei Youting. After agonizing over it for a long time, they decided on the scene between Zhou Fanyi and Zhou Ping from Cao Yu’s Thunderstorm.

Jiang Zui had an interesting face, elegant and clean. It wasn’t the kind of beauty that stunned you at first sight, but his bone structure was superior, and his features were clear and bright. The more you looked, the more beautiful he became; there was a soothing quality to him that drew people in involuntarily.

Furthermore, he possessed a natural flair for acting. When he read his lines, he was full of emotion, perfectly capturing Zhou Fanyi’s desperate, unrequited love.

Pei Youting had praised him sincerely: “You act very well.”

“You must really like acting,” Pei Youting added. “You get into character so fast, and your performance is very moving.”

He didn’t expect Jiang Zui’s eyes to light up instantly at those words. His usually cold face radiated a brilliant glow. “Yes, I like it.”

“I like it very much.”

Jiang Zui hesitated for a moment. “My dream is to become an actor.”

It was a bit unexpected. Pei Youting could not help but look at him a few more times, but he quickly returned to his usual self, his eyes curving into a smile. “That’s great. I think you’re quite talented.”

In truth, Pei Youting was just being polite; he had said it casually and forgotten it almost immediately. He never imagined that Jiang Zui would actually choose the path of an actor.

And from the looks of it, he wasn’t doing very well.

Pei Youting shook the water droplets from his hands, temporarily setting Jiang Zui’s matters aside, and walked back toward his booth.

“Where did you go? You took forever.” A fair-weather friend familiarly slung an arm around Pei Youting’s neck. “Three penalty drinks for you.”

The music grew louder, making Pei Youting’s ears ache. The man next to him reeked, and with a twitch of his lips, Pei Youting subtly pushed him away. “Fine.”

The playboy chuckled and clapped his hands. A young boy emerged from the crowd in response.

“Go on.” The playboy tilted his chin toward the youth and nodded at Pei Youting. “Fill up Young Master Pei’s glass.”

Only then did Pei Youting deign to lift his eyelids, condescending to give the boy a few looks. To be fair, he was good-looking; a white shirt tucked into jeans emphasized a slender waist. He had a strong student vibe and looked very pure.

“Not bad, right?” The playboy nudged Pei Youting with his elbow, winking. “Just turned eighteen. Very clean.”

“I don’t want virgins,” Pei Youting said indistinctly, lighting a cigarette. “Too much trouble.”

“Hey, you.”

Suddenly, Pei Youting felt a warmth on his leg. The boy had moved close to him, now half-kneeling. He held up a full glass of wine, his head bowed. From Pei Youting’s angle, he could only see the boy’s slender white neck and his bright red ears.

The smoke swirled in his mouth. Pei Youting narrowed his eyes, fished a room card out of his pocket, and tossed it onto the boy.

“Wash yourself clean and wait for me in this room.”

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