In his past life, Shen Mingzheng hadn’t fully grasped this. He only felt his luck was horrendous, as if his capacity for hardship attracted even more suffering.

After Guang Ying Entertainment was acquired, his contract was transferred to Shen Entertainment. It wasn’t until he had taken many blows that he realized Shen Huai was a hypocritical fiend. Compared to Su Ning, who wore his foolishness on his sleeve, Shen Huai was just a bit better at pretending, consuming others with a more refined facade.

Everyone was merely his stepping stone.

He used Li Chu, even Sang Le, who “accidentally” fell down and later became Shen Huai’s secret lover for quite some time—clearly, they’d been entangled for ages.

Yet, Shen Mingzheng refused to be tamed. Without any connections or backing, he crawled and scraped his way through the entertainment world, facing countless trials for half his life.

Being smeared, disregarded, and betrayed became commonplace. Others stole his achievements; inferior goods drove out quality ones, leaving a bitter taste. What took others a little effort required him tenfold pressure and effort, yet everything remained full of obstacles, both natural and man-made.

He encountered all sorts in the industry, from a few genuinely kind-hearted souls to the distorted human-faced monsters hiding everywhere. The good suffered while the monsters thrived unimpeded.

As he delved deeper, he saw things more clearly. His youthful dreams slowly shattered; the entertainment industry’s vanity fair couldn’t simply reward passion and hard work.

Many artists were nothing more than puppets set up by capital, like hollow shells. The brighter the spotlight, the more swarms of parasites lurked behind it.

Shen Mingzheng clung to his principles and refused to compromise. Over time, he worked as an idol, singer, actor, and even did backstage work, eventually gaining his freedom from his contract when he was nearly forty.

Malnutrition in his youth, lingering illnesses from his younger years, and middle-aged injuries from action scenes haunted him. Severely depressed, isolated, reliant on handfuls of medication every day. To the public, he was a capable actor who’d worked on popular projects, but he’d never truly risen due to endless controversies and offending too many people. He didn’t have much money, and even most of his royalties remained in limbo when he left.

But none of it mattered anymore.

He sensed his body couldn’t hold out much longer and wanted to leave one final work.

The film he directed and starred in, Living Towards Death, took him five years, exhausting all his savings, energy, and vitality. From script to music, lighting to direction, Shen Mingzheng’s touch was in every part, capturing his own experiences in the rawest form.

Despite his terminal illness, there was no trace of gloom in the film; instead, its brilliant, vibrant visual style stunned audiences. It made it all the way to the Thorn Awards, the ultimate artistic prize, nominated for Best Picture, Best Director, and multiple acting awards.

The Thorn Award had once been Shen Mingzheng’s biggest dream. Like a warrior, he had walked this thorny path step by step, finally arriving at the gleaming crown.

Everyone thought it was a sure thing. However, at the awards ceremony, the unexpected happened—the winner of the Thorn Award was another film, The Name of the Rose.

The movie wasn’t bad. It was a major collaboration between several companies, with a massive budget, numerous cameos from stars of all kinds, and importantly, it was funded by the Shen family.

Anyone could see that, compared to Living Towards Death, The Name of the Rose was nowhere near the same level, yet the prestigious Thorn Award announced it anyway.

As the award ceremony was broadcast live, Shen Mingzheng lay on his hospital bed watching, finally conceding—he had lost.

He hadn’t just lost the award. From the moment he entered the industry, he’d lost everything.

Even the Thorn Award he’d dreamed of was tainted.

It was as if the wounded warrior, reaching for the glowing crown meant for him, saw it shatter to dust upon touch, leaving nothing but desolation.

If that had been all, he might have just resigned himself to another bitter disappointment.

But then, the Shen family patriarch accepted the award. An elderly man with kind eyes, also the film’s producer, spoke with trembling voice, leaning on a cane.

“This movie was made for my beloved daughter, who went missing long ago. The female lead is based on her. This trophy was once her dream, a gift for her. Even now, I’m still waiting for her to come home.”

The patriarch, clutching the trophy, pulled out an old pocket watch with a picture of his daughter in her youth, and muttered, “I’m old. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, Rose. Shen Rose, my daughter, wherever you are, I hope you’ll see this movie and let me see you once more.”

His heartfelt words moved the audience to tears and applause.

The high-definition camera captured the picture clearly. Shen Mingzheng couldn’t possibly mistake that face.

It was the face of his deceased mother.

At that moment, something clicked for him. He understood why Shen Huai and the others relentlessly chased him down, unwilling to let him shine. Even when Shen Huai ultimately failed, he looked at him with hidden truths.

So that was it. So that was it.

That night, Shen Mingzheng closed his eyes on his hospital bed, suffocated and unwilling to let go.

And in that silence, a strange voice affirmed the truth: this twisted lineage had saved a cruel punchline for his life’s final chapter.

Then he opened his eyes, reborn.

Reborn two months before signing with Guang Ying Entertainment, where it all began.

But the wearied, battered protagonist was already exhausted.

Shen Mingzheng sat in his dark, cramped rented room for three days, contemplating everything. This world felt meaningless, yet he had to continue living in it.

But with a chance to start over, why be the lamb on the cutting board?

So, he returned home and retrieved his mother’s belongings. Despite his alcoholic father’s neglect, her things were intact—photo albums, jewelry, even her birth and hospital records.

He copied everything he could, taking only one thing with him.

His mother’s favorite ruby ring, specially designed. She once joked that it was a family heirloom meant for his future bride. Only now did he realize it bore the Shen family crest.

Seeing the Shen patriarch in the capital was challenging, but for someone who had lived two lives and knew the Shen family well, Shen Mingzheng managed it. Within ten days, he seized his chance; he didn’t even have to approach the old man himself. As long as the ring was seen during a casual brush-by, the Shen family would come to him.

Sure enough, everything afterward went smoothly.

When the Shen patriarch held him and cried, Shen Mingzheng wore such a convincing expression of emotion that no one could detect the cold indifference beneath.

The warrior who’d struggled all his life now cast aside his sword. He would no longer be trampled but become the greatest dragon among them all.

With a fresh start, Shen Mingzheng now had the power and background to influence the original story, steering it toward a different conclusion.

Shen Entertainment originally had no plans to invest in Idol Star Map season four. The first three seasons had been mediocre, and following the original storyline, the show wouldn’t end well.

Thanks to Su Ning and Guang Ying Entertainment’s reckless actions, the show, plagued by scandals, was forcibly halted just before the finals.

Shen Mingzheng pushed for the investment, not just to oppose Shen Huai. He had no obsession with Shen Huai—last time, he lost to the Shen family, not to Shen Huai. For him, Shen Huai was trivial.

The show itself had the potential to explode. Despite limited investment, it had garnered decent viewership from the start, with several highly talented trainees. Only poor management, lack of resources, and a few extreme personalities caused it to fail.

He invested in it, and the show’s quality drastically improved, becoming an instant hit.

Shen Mingzheng advised Chief Director Chen Yuan to manage the trainees strictly, and she did so. With such strict oversight, Su Ning dared not cause trouble. Though tempted by Shen Huai and Sang Le’s provocations, he was cautious around the cameras, occasionally muttering snide remarks but causing no real harm.

So, the show sailed smoothly past the original accident point for a while.

Then, just before the finals, a minor lapse opened a loophole. Soon, a planned media storm erupted. It seemed there were spies from Shen Huai in the production team.

Today, Shen Mingzheng rooted out the moles and spent the day with the directors discussing countermeasures. He was prepared, but public anger was peaking, and even the gods couldn’t turn it around instantly.

Unexpectedly, Su Ning was still acting out.

That evening, staff urgently called the director, saying someone had taken him away. Shen Mingzheng checked the footage and recognized Jiang Chenfeng in the car.

That made him think of Li Chu.

Once again, everything seemed to follow the old script. With Su Ning backed into a corner, Li Chu would be unlucky again.

Li Chu’s sacrifice was merely Shen Huai’s manipulation. It wouldn’t save Zhou Chunqing, so there was no way this dirty deal could go through.

So, Shen Mingzheng arrived at Diao Chun Jiang to take Li Chu away.

The past repeating itself soured his mood. When he parked in the basement, anxiety still gnawed at him—until someone suddenly opened the car door, breaking his reverie.

He’d been a step too slow.

Su Ning had already saved Li Chu and even given Jiang Chenfeng a beating.

What a surreal twist.

Chen, Shen Mingzheng’s assistant, barely familiar with Young Master Su, managed to rationalize the odd behavior. But to Shen Mingzheng, it was baffling.

—Was this really something Su Ning would do?

His first thought was that Su Ning might have also been reborn.

Yet, he couldn’t recognize Shen Mingzheng; his question through the car window sounded genuine.

Perhaps he wasn’t reborn, after all.

On the way back, Shen Mingzheng found himself constantly pondering Su Ning’s oddities until Chen Tao dropped him off and reminded him of the schedule.

“Tomorrow’s press conference is at Guang Ying Entertainment. They’re reluctant to let Su Ning drop out, and Director Chen Yuan is so furious she’s refusing to attend. The production team wants you there to keep the peace. What do you think…?”

Though Chen Yuan wasn’t going, Shen Mingzheng, as the biggest investor, had already gone above and beyond. Chen Tao intended to refuse on his behalf, but Shen Mingzheng said, “Su Ning… I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Chen Tao was surprised, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll arrange it.”

Assistant Chen thought, Something’s odd about Little Shen today.

The next morning, Li Chu, still drowsy, awoke to the smell of breakfast.

It was bright outside. Opening his eyes to an unfamiliar room, he spent a moment in a daze.

The alcohol smell on him had completely faded, and the fragrance from outside grew stronger.

In a daze, Li Chu wandered toward the source of the aroma, slowly arriving in the living room, where he saw Su Ning, wearing an apron and holding a bowl of soup. For a second, he thought he was still dreaming.

Su Ning glanced at him and said, “Perfect timing. Sit and eat. It’s still hot.”

Li Chu, still a bit dazed, sat down automatically. He usually tried to act well-behaved, but today, for some reason, he kept looking up at Su Ning, unable to look away.

Su Ning wore a formal gray shirt, entirely different from yesterday’s sheer, flashy idol shirt. His iris-blue dyed hair, washed but untrimmed, was neatly styled, making him look softer.

Su Ning’s old wolf-tail hairstyle suited his “bad boy” face, though to Li Chu, it always made him look like a dog with ruffled fur.

But now, somehow, he seemed restrained and calm, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. Instead of a ruffled dog, he looked more like a refined scoundrel.

Seems like Su Ning’s strange behavior continued.

And he had to admit, Su Ning’s looks really were a gift from the heavens.

Li Chu, rich with inner monologues but half-awake, sat down mechanically. Seeing the breakfast, he froze.

The food was simple—a bowl of hot noodle soup with crisp vegetables and thick beef slices. The broth smelled rich, filled with meat and vegetables. There was also a small whole-wheat sandwich with a soft fried egg and fresh berries on the side.

Li Chu had been dieting to maintain his idol figure, going without a proper meal for a while. After last night, he was exhausted and starving.

The breakfast didn’t seem store-bought; the soup pot was steaming in the kitchen. No one else was around, and there was no way he could have cooked while sleepwalking. It had to be Su Ning.

Su Ning can cook? Is this safe to eat? Would he poison me?

Li Chu hesitated.

Su Ning noticed and said, “That’s buckwheat noodles. I controlled the carbs, and the other ingredients are balanced. It won’t make you gain weight.”

After a moment, he added, softening his tone a bit, “It’s good. Try it?”

Li Chu: …

For some reason, Su Ning’s words sounded like coaxing a child. After holding out for a while, hunger finally won. He picked up his chopsticks.

Fine, I’ll eat it!

Might as well eat until he goes broke!