After listening to a few more questions from other students, Yu Beiyan continued speaking for about another half an hour. Finally, the host came on stage and informed everyone that President Yu’s time was very valuable, and today’s lecture had come to an end.
As Wei Xicheng and Peng Bo walked out of the auditorium, Peng Bo kept chattering non-stop.
His exaggerated tone, combined with his dramatic gestures, drew the attention of many passersby. Yet, he himself remained completely oblivious to it. Wei Xicheng could only curl his lips helplessly. No wonder their mentor always said Peng Bo was best suited for comedy or becoming a variety show star. That kind of carefree attitude, completely unfazed by his surroundings, was something most people simply couldn’t learn.
“Can you tone it down a bit? All I did was answer two questions. Is it really that big of a deal?”
“This is completely different!” Peng Bo exclaimed, raising his eyebrows and winking exaggeratedly. “That’s our future golden sponsor! Do you know what Shengshi represents? It’s paradise for artists all over the country! And Yu Beiyan? He’s the number one person every artist wants to please!”
“Keep your voice down.”
Wei Xicheng glanced around and, sure enough, many people had already started looking at them with curious expressions. Though he didn’t particularly care about their gazes, he knew that for aspiring actors and entertainers who hadn’t debuted yet, it was best not to leave behind any potential “black history” too early. No one could predict whether they’d suddenly become famous one day, and if they did, who knew if a moment like this might get dug up and exposed?
Sometimes, while talent was important, knowing how to navigate the industry was just as crucial for a long-lasting career. Wei Xicheng was passionate about acting and didn’t want any unnecessary trouble to disrupt his future.
But clearly, Peng Bo thought differently. His mindset was stuck on the idea that creating buzz and generating controversy were the quickest ways to rise to fame. He didn’t care about other people’s opinions, nor did he mind whether they praised or criticized him. To him, becoming an entertainer meant seeking as much attention as possible.
He cared only about the result—not the process.
Wei Xicheng looked at Peng Bo, who had a disapproving expression on his face, and smiled.
Their friendship had started as an accident, and over the years, many people had warned him that Peng Bo was too opportunistic and not someone worth getting too close to.
At first, Wei Xicheng had been hesitant about these opinions. But later, he realized that a person’s true nature couldn’t be judged solely by what others said. Only by spending time with someone could he determine whether they could be friends or not.
Unexpectedly, that friendship had lasted for more than three years. Wei Xicheng understood that Peng Bo simply wanted fame and success. But what set him apart was his strong mental resilience—he was completely unfazed by others’ opinions and had an exceptional ability to handle pressure, something that many artists lacked.
To be honest, Wei Xicheng didn’t think there was anything wrong with Peng Bo’s mindset. As long as he wasn’t harming or exploiting his friends to achieve his goals, there was nothing to criticize. After all, in this industry, who didn’t want to be famous?
Peng Bo was just more upfront about his ambitions.
“You tell me, in this society, what kind of future can you have by just acting? How much money can you even make from a few roles? With your looks, if directors don’t know your true ability, they’ll probably limit your roles. By the time you finally make a name for yourself, the stars of your generation will already be landing international films.” Peng Bo curled his lips, clearly unimpressed with Wei Xicheng’s way of thinking.
Although Wei Xicheng didn’t agree with Peng Bo’s “it doesn’t matter if you’re famous for the right or wrong reasons, as long as you’re famous” philosophy, he had to admit that what Peng Bo was saying was an objective truth—and it was for his own good. Inside this school, talent mattered. But once he stepped out, he would be nothing more than an unknown nobody.
“Alright, stop worrying about me. Mr. Liu asked you to submit your inspection report. Have you finished writing it?”
“Ahhh! I completely forgot!” Peng Bo jumped on the spot twice before turning around and running off. “See you later!”
Despite his slightly chubby frame, Peng Bo could run surprisingly fast. In just a moment, he had disappeared from sight.
Wei Xicheng sighed, then laughed, before leisurely walking toward a trash can. He took out the empty candy wrappers from his backpack—the ones from the snacks he had eaten during the lecture. Because they had been sitting too close to the front, they had to be careful with their movements, so they had quietly shared a bag of candy. Somehow, Peng Bo had ended up eating more than half of it.
As the colorful candy wrappers slipped through his fingers and into the dark green trash can, Wei Xicheng spaced out for a moment. It felt as if something very important, just like these pretty candy wrappers, had been discarded as well.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall what it was.
Shaking his head, he wondered if he had been getting enough rest lately. His mental state really wasn’t great.
As he snapped out of it, he realized that his fingers had unconsciously tightened around the remaining candy wrappers in his bag. After a moment of hesitation, he decided not to throw them away.
There were quite a few small pavilions scattered around the campus, built for students to rest and enjoy the scenery. But in reality, not many students actually had the leisure to sit there.
Yet at this moment, one of those pavilions by the lake was occupied—by a confused Wei Xicheng, who had no idea why he had suddenly decided to sit there.
He took out all the candy wrappers, smoothing each one flat. The white cartoon cat printed on them caught his eye, and as he stared at them, fragmented memories flashed through his mind at high speed. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t grasp them.
The feeling was incredibly frustrating.
What he didn’t know was that, not too far away, Yu Beiyan was sitting in his car, experiencing the exact same thing.
Initially, Yu Beiyan had only glanced at the pavilion and recognized the student who had been dozing off during the lecture. He had been about to drive away when, at the moment he started the engine, an excruciating headache struck him—so intense that he nearly blacked out.
Gritting his teeth, he quickly turned off the car and leaned forward against the steering wheel, trying to regain his composure.
The searing pain, as if his brain was being torn apart, lasted only a minute before vanishing without a trace.
Lifting his head, he looked at the person sitting in the pavilion again. This time, his gaze had changed—his dark, deep eyes carried an almost tangible weight.
—
“What are you doing?”
A somewhat familiar male voice rang out.
Without thinking, Wei Xicheng turned around and found himself locking eyes with a pair of deep, penetrating eyes. Feeling a bit awkward, he smiled and stood up to greet the man. “Oh, it’s you, President Yu. I just thought these candy wrappers were too nice to throw away, so I…”
Halfway through his sentence, he suddenly realized how ridiculous he sounded.
Collecting candy wrappers? That was such a childish, almost embarrassing hobby. He couldn’t let that ruin his image.
“Hm, they are quite nice.”
Wei Xicheng hadn’t expected Yu Beiyan to agree. He followed the man’s gaze and saw that he was also staring at the white cartoon cat on the wrappers.
On instinct, he picked one up from the table and handed it over.
…
And then, he regretted it immediately.
What was he thinking? Yu Beiyan had seen everything in the world—why would he care about a candy wrapper? How stupid was he to offer a piece of candy packaging to the boss of all bosses?
“Do you have any more candy?”
Yu Beiyan accepted the wrapper naturally as he walked toward the stone bench in the pavilion. Sitting down, he studied the images on the wrappers one by one.
“…I do.”
“Can I have one? I’d like to see if this ‘little cat’ tastes sweet.” His tone was lighthearted, as if he were in an unusually good mood.
Wei Xicheng handed him a piece of the “Little Cat” milk candy. The moment the CEO put it into his mouth, his expression subtly shifted—he must have found it too sweet.
The candy’s packaging was adorable, featuring various cartoon animals in a cutesy, exaggerated style. When buying it, Wei Xicheng hadn’t paid much attention—he had simply grabbed it out of curiosity. He never expected that such a childish candy wrapper would attract the interest of the seemingly aloof and composed CEO.
This… felt like an opportunity.
He wanted to enter Shengshi Entertainment based on his own abilities, but there was no rule against getting on the good side of the top management in advance, right?
In their industry, the difference between having connections and not having them was huge. As Peng Bo had pointed out, which he fully agreed with—Yu Beiyan was the ultimate “meal ticket” for all artists.
“So, President Yu, do you like it?”
Unfortunately, though Wei Xicheng had the heart to play the sycophant, he was far too timid. After racking his brain for a long time, the only thing he managed to say was that dry and uninspired question.
Yu Beiyan studied him closely, the amusement in his eyes growing deeper.
He had never seen this side of Wei Xicheng before. Without the memories of his past missions, the young man was just a twenty-year-old kid. Compared to a seasoned businessman like himself, he was completely inexperienced.
And the difference between his confidence in front of an audience and his nervousness when alone with him was simply too entertaining.
Yu Beiyan couldn’t hold back his smile. He almost wanted to ask—did he really look that intimidating?
“It’s good. Give me another one of these.”
Wei Xicheng glanced at the candy wrapper in Yu Beiyan’s hand—it had a picture of a little green snake biting its own tail.
Quickly, he rummaged through his bag, found the same candy, and handed it over.
Without waiting for the first piece to melt, Yu Beiyan popped the second one into his mouth. The snake candy had a sour taste, balancing out the sweetness left behind by the milk candy.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the young man still standing awkwardly nearby.
“Why are you still standing?”
“Huh? Oh—oh, okay.” Wei Xicheng quickly sat down across from him.
“You were quite eloquent back in the lecture hall.”
“…”
Wei Xicheng panicked internally. He had to find a way to make Yu Beiyan remember him.
But before he could think of something clever to say, Yu Beiyan smirked.
“What, cat got your tongue now?”Yu Beiyan seemed to be in an extraordinarily good mood. The smile on his lips deepened, and his patience for the young man in front of him was stretching beyond his usual limits.
If his assistant saw this, they would definitely exclaim, Is this a joke?
“President Yu, I… I hope you didn’t take what I said during the lecture to heart…” Wei Xicheng hesitated, choosing his words carefully. In the end, he felt that the comment Yu Beiyan made to him at the end of the talk had been a sign of displeasure.
He was about to graduate—he really didn’t want to experience a hell-mode job hunt.
“In your heart, am I really such a petty person?”
Wei Xicheng wailed internally. President Yu, where is this coming from? This was their first meeting—how was he supposed to know what kind of person he was? That was what he thought, but of course, he couldn’t say it out loud.
From the initial shock to now, Wei Xicheng had finally regained some of his composure. “Of course not. Based on magazine interviews and the way your company has developed, you’re truly remarkable and excellent. You’re definitely not a petty person. Have you seen the reviews about you online? Everyone speaks highly of you.”
His response was formal, respectful, and polite—exactly the way he wanted it to be.
But in the very next second, Yu Beiyan caught him off guard again.
“Then, what about in your heart?” Yu Beiyan casually stacked two candy wrappers together, seemingly offhandedly saying, “I take back what I said about keeping business and personal matters separate. Suddenly, I think… there are always exceptions.”
Author’s Note:
Yu Beiyan: You are the only exception in my life. So… would you like to listen to my heartbeat?
(In previous worlds, Xicheng always had his memories. This time, let’s switch things up.)
