“That photo is fake. Just look at that little boy—what part of him looks like me at all?”

The post had already been taken down by public relations, and nothing could be refreshed online. Jiang Mo saved that photo.

The photo was blurry, making it impossible to discern anything clearly. But just the thought of Yu Yan possibly living such a hard life before brought Jiang Mo to tears.

She didn’t say a word, just stared at the photo and cried. Her tears, like a soft spring rain, seeped into Yu Yan’s heart.

Yu Yan’s heart clenched tightly. Looking at the photo on the tablet, he immediately responded, “Mom, look at this boy in the photo—doesn’t he look really skinny? When I was little, I was chubby, with a face full of baby fat.”

“Look at the house behind him—it’s a regular house. The orphanage I used to stay in was a repurposed abandoned school. The background isn’t the same at all.”

“Wait, let me find you a picture.”

Yu Yan pulled up the official media account for the Rongcheng Orphanage and found a video introducing the transformation of the orphanage’s facilities. He handed it to Jiang Mo, and Yu Lin leaned halfway over to take a look as well.

“Dad, Mom, see? I wasn’t lying to you, was I?”

“That little boy isn’t me at all! I don’t know who started this rumor, using this kind of thing to get attention!”

“By the way, can I sue these marketing accounts? They’re spreading false information and infringing on my reputation. Would I win in a case like this?”

Yu Lin pondered briefly, “From the perspective of defamation, there’s a high possibility of winning.”

After Jiang Mo confirmed the photo shared by the marketing accounts wasn’t Yu Yan, she felt both pity for the child and a sense of relief.

She shifted most of her attention back to Yu Yan but was distracted again when he mentioned suing the marketing accounts.

“Get your brother to find a good lawyer. You have to sue them. How dare they spread such rumors.”

For now, the matter of suing the gossip influencers and marketing accounts was set aside. The priority was to handle the unfavorable public opinion and investigate the mastermind behind it.

Yu Chen hung up the phone and opened a document he had just received on his phone. “Xiao Yan, do you know this person? I heard they’re a celebrity.”

Seeing the photo, Yu Yan froze for a moment, his fingers unconsciously rubbing together.

“Wen Xia? Brother, could this be a mistake?”

“It’s not,” Yu Chen replied firmly.

When Wen Xia was mentioned, Yu Yan recalled their meeting that afternoon. Wen Xia had stared at him for a while but didn’t say anything.

Perhaps she had already planned this trap at that time.

But why would she do this?

He had only met Wen Xia a handful of times and didn’t even have her contact information. They had never had any disputes.

Jiang Mo frowned slightly. “How could it be a young girl?”

“I’m not sure either.”

Yu Yan truly had no idea why Wen Xia would do this. Could she have been pushed out as a scapegoat?

“Forget it, leave this matter to your brother. Don’t worry too much about it. For now, stay at home and don’t go out until the situation settles.”

“I still have to go to work,” Yu Yan mumbled.

“Taking a couple of days off won’t hurt. Just take a leave of absence,” Jiang Mo insisted. “There are too many people and too many prying eyes on set. What if something happens?”

Yu Yan hesitated for a moment. “Mom, I won’t go to the set for now, but can I at least go back to the office?”

“Well…”

“My office is right next to Brother Chen’s. It’s very safe. Minghua has excellent security. Nothing will happen to me.”

“Alright, but be careful. Do you want me to arrange two bodyguards for you?” Jiang Mo still sounded worried.

Yu Yan shook his head immediately. “No need, Mom. You can rest assured.”

Yu Chen glanced at him suspiciously and grumbled, “We had to beg you to take a vacation, but you’re so eager to go back to work.”

Yu Yan chuckled twice and didn’t reply.

Most of the artists under Yu Yan’s management had joined their respective productions, so he spent much more time visiting sets or discussing collaborations than staying at the office. Returning to the office now felt strangely unfamiliar.

President Li had Xiao Man send him a few scripts to review and decide if any were suitable.

He had just started reading when notifications began popping up in the group chat “Keep the Music Going” (5).

[He Zhiyu: Xiao Yan, was last night’s incident caused by Wen Xia?]

[He Zhiyu: Is it true? Why did you say you didn’t know last night?]

[Yu Yan: Where did you hear this?]

[He Zhiyu: There are no secrets in the entertainment industry.]

[Song Yunjing: So it really was her? Why would she do that?]

[He Zhiyu: @Yu Yan Did she try to sign with our company?]

[Yu Yan: She mentioned it, but I turned her down.]

[Song Yunjing: Just because of that?]

【He Zhiyu: Who knows? This is the information I managed to find.】

Yu Yan once again recalled his first meeting with Wen Xia. At least in his view, their conversation was pleasant. Wen Xia even took off a small Q-version non-woven fabric figurine from her hat to show him.

When he declined, Wen Xia remained indifferent, showing no displeasure.

Could it be that recently she failed to compete for resources with other artists in the company and decided to pin the blame on him?

【He Zhiyu: It’s good we didn’t sign her. Her acting skills may be decent, but her character isn’t.】

【Yu Yan: That wasn’t the reason I didn’t sign her back then.】

【He Zhiyu: Then what was it?】

【Yu Yan: She already had a bit of fame in the industry, with over four million followers on Weibo. What could a half-baked manager like me possibly do for her? I’d only hold back her development.】

Yu Yan was clear about the kind of people he signed. Jian Ran, Song Yunjing, and Cao Yuanye were all on the verge of being cornered, consistently suppressed and shelved, with uncertain futures.

With just a bit of effort and resources, he could improve their circumstances, but he couldn’t help someone like Wen Xia, who already had some fame.

【He Zhiyu: That’s all? Then why weren’t you worried about holding me back?】

【Yu Yan: Or would you rather go back to filming those three-hour low-budget movies?】

【He Zhiyu: Forget I said anything.】

Combining the information He Zhiyu had gathered, Yu Yan was able to piece together the whole sequence of events.

Wen Xia had previously used some underhanded methods to seize resources from other artists in the company. But now, that artist had gained powerful backing and was gradually eating away at her resources within the company. That’s why she turned to him. After being rejected, she retaliated.

Though the situation was now out in the open, Yu Yan still found it odd.

While his time at the orphanage wasn’t exactly a secret, it wasn’t something easy to investigate either. Many knew about his work at Chaoxing, but there were very few who could access those photos.

Among those few people, Wen Xia was certainly not included.

Yu Yan sent the details of the incident, along with a few doubts he had, to Yu Chen.

Seeing that it was already 11:30, Yu Yan promptly put away his phone, knocked on the office door next door, and peeked his head in.

“Chen-ge, time for lunch.”

Having not eaten in the company cafeteria for a long time, Yu Yan forgot his card, so Shen Yuchen swiped his card instead.

As expected, Shen Yuchen was wearing a Patek Philippe on his wrist.

This confirmed another fact: Shen Yuchen didn’t like the watch he had gifted him.

After lunch, instead of returning to his office, Yu Yan lounged on the sofa in Shen Yuchen’s office, occasionally replying to WeChat messages.

Shen Yuming noticed his downcast expression and casually asked, “In a bad mood?”

“Not really,” Yu Yan sighed and briefly explained the situation.

Yu Chen had already contacted a lawyer to sue a few big influencers and marketing accounts for defamation. Since Yu Yan wasn’t a public figure, the public opinion came and went quickly. Once the online posts were deleted, the matter mostly subsided.

Shen Yuming said in a low voice, “Wen Xia won’t face any legal consequences.”

Yu Chen had told Yu Yan the same thing. They had only found evidence that Wen Xia had “accidentally” revealed the information, but the source of the photos hadn’t been traced yet, so there was no basis to sue her.

What Yu Yan cared about wasn’t this incident itself but the reasons behind it.

Feeling down and unable to shake it off, Yu Yan stayed curled up on the sofa, unwilling to move, until Shen Yuming handed him a gaming console.

“Chen-ge, you bought this too?”

Yu Yan sounded surprised, but his hands were already skillfully operating the controller, opening up the racing game he often played.

Shen Yuming didn’t even lift his head. “It’s a leftover prize from a company raffle.”

Yu Yan let out an “oh” and scooted over. “Ge, come play with me.”

“No,” Shen Yuming refused without looking up.

“Just one round. There’s still plenty of time before work starts,” Yu Yan said, blinking with a pleading look on his face.

Yu Yan’s features weren’t mature or sharp. He had a bit of baby fat on his face, and the dimples by his lips were especially charming when he smiled brightly.

Shen Yuming’s lips curved slightly, but under Yu Yan’s expectant gaze, he refused him again.

Yu Yan had already opened the game interface, just waiting for Shen Yuchen. “Good brother, just play one round with me, please.”

The sudden form of address made Shen Yuming’s eyelid twitch slightly. After playing hard to get for a moment, he pretended to agree graciously, “Just one round.”

“No problem, no problem.” Yu Yan made an OK gesture.

Racing is inherently a sport filled with speed and passion, making hearts race and adrenaline surge, bringing a unique sense of joy.

By the time the race map was halfway through, Yu Yan could no longer see Shen Yuchen’s car. He frantically pressed the acceleration button to catch up.

When the game ended, Shen Yuchen finished a full 30 seconds ahead of Yu Yan, breaking his personal best record.

Even He Zhiyu, who boasted about playing racing games since the age of three and being unbeatable in national racing championships at 18, was only ahead of Yu Yan by a dozen or so seconds.

“Chen-ge, I didn’t expect you to be so good at games!”

“Mm.” Shen Yuming responded lightly, casually placing the controller on the sofa.

Yu Yan’s excitement hadn’t worn off yet. “Are you this good at real racing too?”

“More or less.”

“Do you have videos? I’d love to see them. Oh, and videos of skydiving or wingsuit flying too—I bet they’re incredible.”

Shen Yuming paused slightly, his brows furrowing slowly, and didn’t respond immediately.

Sensing his hesitation, Yu Yan carefully rephrased his request. “Is it… inconvenient?”

“No, come here.”

Shen Yuming sat on the leather office chair while Yu Yan dragged over another chair from across the desk to sit beside him.

Shen Yuming opened an encrypted folder and casually clicked on a video.

It appeared to be footage of a racing competition. Over a dozen cars were neck and neck, with tires screeching against the pavement, sparks flying, and a thick plume of white smoke enveloping the track, obscuring most of the vehicles.

Yu Yan’s heart clenched. “Ge, which car is yours?”

“The one at the front.”

The sleek black car at the lead sped past the finish line, leaving the second-place car half a length behind.

Next, Shen Yuming opened a skydiving video. The footage was shot from a helmet camera, making it extremely shaky.

The moment Shen Yuming jumped out of the helicopter, Yu Yan felt his own heart stop, his throat tighten, and breathing became difficult.

As he free-fell to a certain height, Shen Yuming deployed the parachute, but due to either a miscalculation of wind direction or some other issue, several lines became tangled, and the parachute failed to open.

In the nick of time, Shen Yuming deployed the reserve chute, landing just barely within the safety margin, though he was dragged several meters by the parachute on the ground.

Yu Yan felt as though he had just experienced the jump himself, his heart racing as if it would burst out of his chest.

Shen Yuming turned off the video and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Yu Yan’s face was pale, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. His lips had lost their color and were trembling slightly.

He opened the folder containing wingsuit flying videos, his hand on the mouse hesitating for a moment over the first video before selecting the last one instead.

To Yu Yan, wingsuit flying was the most dangerous of all of Shen Yuchen’s extreme sports hobbies. Thankfully, this time there were no accidents, and the flight ended safely with a successful landing.

Perhaps this was Shen Yuming’s favorite sport, given how skilled he was at it.

After watching the videos, Yu Yan was still recovering from the shock. When he finally came to, he realized he was drenched in cold sweat. His clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin.

“Chen-ge, why do you do so many extreme sports?”

Shen Yuming closed the videos, his thin lips parting to utter just two words, “I like it.”