This is the last arc also the original world of the protagonists ~
On the bustling streets filled with traffic and crowds, a young boy in a white hoodie walked across the sidewalk with a large backpack on his back. His hood covered most of his face, but the exposed part of his jawline formed a beautiful curve.
Just as he reached the other side of the street, the green light switched to red. The sound of cars whizzing past and the dust they kicked up created an effect like a movie scene, blurring everything behind him and leaving only his solitary figure in focus.
Wei Xicheng looked up at the signboard on the building—Yu Corporation. He pulled his hood down lower over his face and quickly walked around the front of the building.
Under Yu Corporation, there were numerous subsidiary companies across different industries, including Shengshi Film & Entertainment, a top-tier company in the entertainment industry with endless resources. It was the “holy land” that everyone in the field dreamed of reaching.
When Wei Xicheng had just entered university, he had once submitted his resume here. The interviewer had only given him one comment—“no soul”—which had made him furious. Young and arrogant, he couldn’t accept such an evaluation. After years of intense practice, he finally earned his mentor’s recognition. His skills were now refined enough to compensate for all his shortcomings, yet he still couldn’t escape that same evaluation—“no soul.”
Wei Xicheng adjusted the straps of his backpack. He had less than a year left before graduation. No matter what happened, nothing could wear down his passion for acting. If other companies couldn’t see any flaws in his acting, then he would deliberately join Shengshi to hone his craft.
But… Shengshi—why did that name feel so eerily familiar?
Forget it. Unable to make sense of the feeling, Wei Xicheng decided to stop thinking about it. Maybe it was just an illusion caused by hearing his mentor mention it all the time.
He quickened his pace. His university was nearby, and today there was an important lecture—the school had finally managed to invite the CEO of Yu Corporation to speak about his journey to success. Although Wei Xicheng had no interest in attending, the university had made it mandatory for all senior students to be present, even going as far as to threaten deductions from their comprehensive quality assessment scores.
His university had a rather peculiar tradition—it placed extreme importance on comprehensive quality assessment scores. If a student’s score fell below the passing threshold, they could forget about graduating on time and would have to stay an extra year for “reformation.”
Although Wei Xicheng had always maintained excellent grades in his major, he had also racked up his fair share of disciplinary actions. Whether it was bringing prohibited electronics to campus or skipping mandatory group activities, he had done it all. He had never attended any of those forced-attendance, mind-numbingly dull events either. As a result, he was now teetering on the edge of not being able to graduate, struggling to keep afloat.
Sigh, what a ridiculous system.
As Wei Xicheng walked along, sighing, he remained oblivious to the fact that, not far behind him, in the CEO’s office of Yu Corporation’s headquarters, the legendary real-life domineering president—Yu Beiyan—was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the ant-like figures on the street below.
Just moments ago, he had spaced out for a second, as if a long time had passed. Mere seconds ago, he had been struggling with complicated company affairs, yet in the next instant, everything suddenly became clear. Problems that had seemed thorny now had endless solutions, as if an inexhaustible well of ideas had opened up in his mind.
This feeling had come too suddenly. Although Yu Beiyan wasn’t one to dwell on such things, he still found himself standing up to readjust his thoughts.
Perhaps he had been working overtime too much lately, and the mental stress was getting to him. Maybe he just needed some rest.
At least, that was the excuse he gave himself. But his active brain and heightened senses told him otherwise—this was merely a justification for the strange changes occurring within him.
In that brief moment, he felt something tug at his heart. His gaze shifted downward toward the street below, as if something important was slipping past him.
The feeling was mysterious—sudden, yet gripping, leaving behind an inexplicable sense of loss.
Yu Beiyan pinched the bridge of his nose. What’s going on with me?
The lecture hadn’t started yet, and the massive auditorium was buzzing with excitement—especially among the female students.
It had to be said that the students of this university were all exceptional. Over the years, the school had invited world-renowned experts and celebrities to give lectures, but none had ever drawn such an enthusiastic response as today’s event.
“You made it?” A slightly chubby boy knocked on the table, looking disgruntled. “Xicheng, this is heartbreaking! How could they all be swooning over that CEO? He’s already pushing thirty! Where can you find someone younger and more energetic than me?”
Wei Xicheng placed his backpack on the small desk in front of him, unzipped it, and pulled out a bag of potato chips.
“Here. This makes noise, so eat it now. You won’t be able to eat during the lecture, so let’s shut you up early.”
The chubby boy’s expression turned complicated as he stared at the potato chips that had been shoved into his hands. His face twisted in despair.
“Xicheng… did you know? I just decided to start dieting today.”
“That’s fine. Eat it.”
Having heard “Peng Bo is going on a diet” for the 78,000th time in the past four years, Wei Xicheng did his best to maintain a gentle expression.
“You need energy to lose weight, after all.”
“Sniff, sob… Xicheng, you’re so good to me.”
With a dramatic wail, Peng Bo tore open the bag and began shoving chips into his mouth. “I didn’t even eat breakfast this morning. Losing weight is too hard.”
This lecture was a serious event, and the university had strictly forbidden students from bringing snacks inside. Wei Xicheng simply smiled and pretended he hadn’t seen that rule.
People need to eat. Even if the emperor himself were here, he couldn’t stop me from filling my stomach.
Of course, he still had some self-discipline—aside from the non-fried potato chips he gave to Peng Bo, all the snacks he brought were ones that wouldn’t make noise. He also made sure to clean up after himself, ensuring that he wouldn’t leave behind any incriminating evidence.
Wei Xicheng stroked his chin. His mentor had once told him that if necessary, it was time to start cultivating an “idol image.”
Although his acting skills were good, his face alone ensured that he would be labeled as an “idol actor” the moment he debuted. Even if he signed with a company, he wouldn’t be able to escape the path of a commercial heartthrob.
At first, he had scoffed at the idea. He believed in his own talent and thought he could rely purely on his acting skills.
But what had his mentor said to him back then?
Every path has its own way forward.
The “idol actor” label might limit his career at the beginning, but it would also bring him initial popularity.
He could choose to focus solely on acting, but no entertainment company wanted to sign a “stubbornly rigid” so-called “serious actor.” If he wanted to survive in the industry, he had to be adaptable and learn the intricacies of human relationships.
Once he had spent enough time in the industry and built up a solid reputation through well-received works, then—and only then—could he let his talent speak for itself.
Of course, that meant choosing the right company. His starting point couldn’t be too low.
That was why he had set his sights on Shengshi Film & Entertainment.
Wei Xicheng took out a preserved plum candy and put it in his mouth, wondering whether the big boss of the Yu Corporation cared about the affairs of its entertainment subsidiary. If so, maybe he could pull some strings…
In just three or four minutes, Peng Bo had already finished the bag of chips. Wei Xicheng habitually grabbed the empty packaging, neatly folded it, and stuffed it into another compartment of his backpack. He waited for Peng Bo to speak, and sure enough—Peng Bo couldn’t stay quiet as long as his mouth wasn’t occupied.
“I heard the guy coming today is really handsome. Even more handsome than me.”
Wei Xicheng ran his tongue over the small canine tooth on his left, keeping his gaze straight ahead and doing his best to control his expression—he didn’t want to hurt his good friend’s feelings. He had seen an exclusive interview with the Yu Corporation’s CEO before. There was only one photo, but it was enough to tell that the man was indeed very handsome—the exact type of masculine appeal Wei Xicheng admired the most.
Thinking about this gave him a headache. If he had to name the biggest obstacle in his acting career, it was ironically his own face. His face was simply too good-looking—too delicate, too flawless, too ridiculously attractive. Because of this, every role he wanted was rejected due to his appearance.
The reason? He wasn’t rugged enough. He wasn’t tough enough. He couldn’t fully convey the raw intensity of certain characters.
Somehow, the candy in his mouth tasted a little sour.
Beside him, Peng Bo was still chattering away. “Since yesterday, the girls on campus have been going crazy. Normally, these lectures never have full attendance, but look at today—damn, people had to come early just to get seats!
“You know, this Yu CEO is really a winner in life. Meanwhile, I’d be happy with just one girlfriend…”
Peng Bo turned to look at Wei Xicheng, who had been unusually quiet. “Hey, weren’t you saying before that you wanted to sign with Shengshi Entertainment? The big boss is right here—why don’t you study him carefully? Maybe you can find a way to impress him…”
Wei Xicheng calmly unwrapped another candy and shoved it into Peng Bo’s mouth. “You think that big boss has the time to care about the people working under him? Use your tailbone to think for a second.”
As soon as he said this, a group of student council members began moving through the rows, reminding everyone to “stay quiet.” The large auditorium instantly fell silent.
Peng Bo, unable to resist, still leaned closer and muttered in a hushed voice, “Damn, what a grand entrance.” It was as if not saying this aloud would physically pain him.
Wei Xicheng chuckled but didn’t respond. The sweet and tangy flavor of the preserved plum candy melted on his tongue as he idly played with it.
At that moment, the host took the stage and officially announced the start of the lecture.
When the university leaders and Yu Beiyan walked out from backstage, the auditorium erupted into an excited uproar. The school’s leadership smiled as they raised their hands in an attempt to quiet the crowd, but instead, the excitement only intensified.
Wei Xicheng’s ears twitched at the overwhelming flood of voices around him.
“Oh my god, he’s so young and so handsome, I want to marry him—”
He chuckled to himself. These young girls nowadays… Then, he looked up at the stage.
There was no denying it—Yu Beiyan looked even better in person than in his interview photo.
At that moment, he wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he had the distinct feeling that the man on stage looked at him, too.
Peng Bo, who had never seen Yu Beiyan’s photos before, was now tugging at his sleeve in sheer excitement. “Holy shit, he really is a god-tier male lead in real life. Rich, powerful, and ridiculously handsome—how is that even fair?!”
Wei Xicheng subtly pulled his sleeve free and scooted a little farther away from Peng Bo.
It took a while before the noise in the auditorium gradually settled down again.
“Hello, everyone,” Yu Beiyan’s deep, magnetic voice resonated through the speakers. “I’m Yu Beiyan. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”
His gaze swept across the audience, pausing briefly in a particular direction before he gave a slight nod and a barely perceptible bow. His presence was dignified and reserved, yet undeniably commanding. As his voice echoed through the room, the atmosphere in the auditorium hit a peak of excitement.
“I’m dead.”
“Same…”
Various murmurs spread through the crowd. Even Peng Bo sat up straight, staring at the stage with wide eyes. After a long pause, he finally managed to squeeze out, “Xicheng, tell me—why do people like him actually exist in real life?”
_____________________________________________________________
Author’s Note:
Peng Bo, our little cutie: “Awoo awoo awoo, President Yu is seriously so dreamy!”
Wei Xicheng, completely indifferent: “Oh.”
Peng Bo, utterly shocked: “Wait—you don’t like him??”
Yu Beiyan, gazing deeply: “I like him.”
