Jian Yang had a fever and could faint at any moment. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of Guan Jingyu, so when Guan Jingyu was stunned from being hit, he quickly slipped away.

He checked his pockets—no money.

Then he looked at his phone balance: 100.8.

Jian Yang muttered, “At least I come from a middle-class family, how could I have only this little money?”

The sun was shining, and the sunlight made his eyes hurt even more. A fever could lead to eye inflammation, so Jian Yang put two drops of eye drops and bought a hat for 78 yuan at a street accessory shop. The most valuable thing he had on him was the half bottle of liquor he’d taken with him.

He had only drunk half of the 50,000-worth bottle, and there was still 50,000 left.

Jian Yang wandered around the intersection twice, deciding to take a taxi back to the Jian family’s house.

Although his parents didn’t like him much, they were still his biological parents, and they wouldn’t refuse to give him a meal, right? He was so hungry. He had only drunk a 50,000-yuan bottle of liquor since last night.

Jian Yang had grown up depending on his sister. His mother died giving birth to him, and his father died in a work accident when he was three. His sister raised him with the compensation money. He had no concept of his parents, only referring to his classmates’ parents as a comparison, thinking that the Jian family’s parents wouldn’t treat him too badly.

What kind of parents wouldn’t like their own child?

They might be a little biased, that’s all.

Jian Yang shifted in the car, pursed his lips, and practiced saying, “Mom.”

It felt a little awkward.

Being able to call someone “Mom” openly was a new feeling for Jian Yang.

When he was about to get out of the car, he felt a little nervous.

The Jian family lived in a wealthy area, in a detached villa. He scanned his face to get in and saw his father, Jian Mingwu, and his mother, Fan Mei, sitting at the dining table. Everything felt both unfamiliar and familiar.

Jian Yang practiced calling them “Mom” and “Dad” in his mind.

Fan Mei saw him first. She ran out of the house and linked her arm with his, “Jian Yang! Why are you back so early?”

Jian Yang was flattered and his arm stiffened where Fan Mei linked with him. Fan Mei was probably in her early forties but looked very well-maintained. Apart from some fine lines at the corners of her eyes, she looked about thirty. After raising two children, she had a kind of gentle, maternal aura. She looked at Jian Yang with a concerned gaze. Jian Yang had practiced calling her “Mom” in the car but didn’t manage to get any words out, just mumbling “Hmm.”

He pulled out his hand from where Fan Mei had linked it, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

Perhaps because this body was familiar with Fan Mei, he didn’t reject the intimacy, just wasn’t used to it.

Fan Mei pulled him into the dining room. Jian Mingwu put down his phone and looked at him, “Was everything smooth?”

There were seven or eight kinds of Chinese-style breakfasts on the table. The savory smell of bone broth porridge made Jian Yang’s stomach rumble. He still had a slight fever and needed to replenish his nutrients. He answered briefly with a “Hmm,” then scooped up a spoonful of porridge to eat. Jian Mingwu’s tone was stern, “What are you doing?”

Fan Mei held her husband back, showing a knowing expression, “He’s tired from last night. He didn’t wait for Qingqing today, let him eat first.”

Jian Yang was stunned as the porridge was about to reach his mouth.

Jian Buqing was his twin brother, the protagonist of this book. He was the precious child of the Jian family, nurtured and groomed from a young age. He began learning Kunqu opera at the age of ten and had to practice two hours every morning before breakfast. The whole family waited for him to finish practicing before they could eat.

Jian Yang just wanted to eat a little to fill his stomach, but unexpectedly, Fan Mei allowed him to eat first.

See! There were parents who loved their children after all.

“Jian Yang, is it true that Guan Ciyan’s mansion is as grand as the news says?” Fan Mei immediately asked.

Jian Yang had a good opinion of this so-called “stepmother.” He put the porridge down and answered seriously, “I don’t know how big it is, but from the décor, it’s clearly old-fashioned. It looks like a history museum.”

“Ah, that’s great! Mingwu, even though the old man from the Guan family hasn’t stepped down yet, Guan Ciyan’s personal strength is just as strong as the rumors. We don’t have to worry anymore,” Fan Mei said, laughing happily, her fine lines at the corners of her eyes showing more.

Jian Yang froze. He saw in Fan Mei a clear image of a mother.

“Then what does Guan Ciyan think about expanding our cinema business? Is he interested?” Jian Mingwu, who had been unhappy because Jian Yang ate first, now looked at him appreciatively.

That gaze was filled with the expectation a father would have for his son.

“Huh?” Jian Yang desperately tried to recall the plot, “What cinema?”

The Jian family owned the largest chain of cinemas in the country. Their assets were quite substantial since they were the maternal family of the protagonist, so their position wasn’t low.

“You’ve already slept with him, how can you still not be clear about this?” Jian Mingwu’s expression instantly changed.

The two words “slept with” exploded like thunder in Jian Yang’s head. His eyes were locked in place, staring blankly at Jian Mingwu.

He was used to hearing all kinds of crude talk in the entertainment industry, but the protagonist of such talk had never been him. The more he saw, the further he distanced himself, afraid of being involved in scandals and upsetting his sister.

Fan Mei gasped and patted her husband’s shoulder, speaking gently, “Jian Yang, didn’t you have time to tell Guan Ciyan about investing in our cinema? Our family only has the cinema, it’s not enough. We should also start the related industries. Maybe you were too nervous last night? It’s fine, since Guan Ciyan accepted you the first time, you can go find him again later. Be a little soft, spend more time with him, see his attitude. If he only wants to have just this one time, ask for compensation. After all, it’s your first time. Asking for a little money isn’t unreasonable, he doesn’t lack money.”

Jian Yang stared at Fan Mei’s face in shock. It was so jarring. She used the softest tone, with a kind expression, encouraging her son to sell his body?

Slap!

Jian Mingwu slammed his hand on the table, “What kind of expression is that? You want to hold on to Guan Ciyan’s leg, and forget about the family, right? Do you think you could sleep with him without the family raising you? Without the Jian family’s status, do you think Guan Ciyan would even look at you?”

“No, what are you talking about? Nothing happened between Guan Ciyan and me,” Jian Yang instinctively explained.

He had kept himself pure his whole life, and would die a virgin. Why was he being slandered in a book?

Jian Mingwu threw his phone at him, “You’re really an ungrateful dog!”

Jian Yang’s hand trembled, and the porridge he was about to drink spilled…

Eating was so hard… Little whale sad.jpg

Jian Yang looked at the news interface on the phone:

[Guan family’s second son, Guan Ciyan, enters hotel with an unknown young man. Three hours later, leaves alone wearing a new suit.]

The photo showed him entering the hotel with Guan Ciyan, and later, Guan Ciyan leaving with his back turned, wearing a new suit.

Damn it.

Two men entering a hotel and leaving after changing clothes, how was he supposed to explain this?

“I really didn’t,” Jian Yang instinctively explained.

“What’s the use of you! You’re just letting people sleep with you for nothing!” Jian Mingwu angrily shouted, “Do you know how much money you’ve cost the family?”

How much money? A poor person who hasn’t even had a mouthful of porridge.

“What happened? Why are you arguing?” Jian Buqing walked out of his private practice room, wearing a light cyan thin silk robe, with old-fashioned ivory white pure linen wide-leg trousers. A light sweat covered his neck, his cheeks slightly flushed, his Danfeng eyes were a bit playful, and he walked delicately over to Fan Mei’s side.

Fan Mei gave her husband a glance and helped Jian Buqing pull out a chair. “Sit down and eat, everything’s fine. After eating, do you still need to go to class?”

Jian Buqing naturally sat down. Jian Mingwu’s face turned ugly, but due to Jian Buqing’s presence, he didn’t say anything further. Jian Yang’s purpose for coming home was just to eat, so he seized the moment and scooped up the spoonful of porridge that had almost reached his lips but never did.

Jian Mingwu slammed the table and yelled, “How can you still have the face to eat! If you can’t get anything done, don’t even think about eating!”

The poor porridge, once again, was shaken off.

Jian Yang slightly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the golden hue of his eyes had a reddish tint, both enchanting and calm.

He raised his hand and swept the tablecloth away.

The bowls and dishes clattered to the floor, breaking, and hot porridge and milk splattered all over Fan Mei and Jian Buqing. Jian Mingwu was scalded by the boiling soup on his thighs and jumped out of his chair, stepping onto the oil-soaked pan-fried buns, slipping and falling to the ground, crying out in pain.

Fan Mei stood in front of Jian Buqing, raising her voice toward Jian Yang, “What are you doing! You scared your brother.”

Gentle Fan Mei became sharp and bitter when it came to Jian Buqing, focusing solely on her.

Jian Buqing, feeling at ease, hid behind Fan Mei, who was shorter than him, “Brother really doesn’t understand, mom.”

“Don’t eat if you don’t want to,” Jian Yang clapped his hands, tiptoed around the mess of dishes on the floor, bent down to grab the half-bottle of red wine he had brought, and walked away.

Why doesn’t the gold miner come to Jian’s house to mine the divine gold? Every time he digs, it’s a sure thing.

“Wait until he comes back, I’ll beat this unfilial son to death!” Jian Mingwu shouted from inside the house.

Jian Yang pinched the brim of his hat, not looking back.

It didn’t matter, he never really had parents anyway.

The early autumn sun was still scorching, and Jian Yang couldn’t stay in the sun for too long. He found a spot under a tree and sat down. The remaining money in his card was used to buy a bottle of water. His throat burned as if fire was rising from it.

He pulled out eye drops, used them for his left eye, but when he tried for the right, nothing came out.

He could tolerate everything, but his eyes couldn’t do without the eye drops.

Before he started the book, his eyes would often get irritated and inflamed, couldn’t come into contact with water, and many roles were not suitable for him because of this problem. Now, aside from feeling uncomfortable physically, his mind was okay. Maybe he was used to hardship.

He should have grabbed two bottles of eye drops when he stormed out earlier.

Now, he was completely out of the plot. The Jian family was never going to be home again; that broken family was better off not existing. As for Guan Ci Yan, he wasn’t going there either, no matter how much they argued.

Thinking it through, Jian Yang could only rely on himself.

At this point, he decided to eat. After all, he had lived like this in his previous life.

Jian Yang directly went to the largest film and television city, walked around, observed carefully, and randomly picked a crew with a decent lunch box to interview for a background role.

Though his current acting skills weren’t ideal for a background role, it was the quickest way to get a meal.

The day’s wages would at least buy some fever medicine. As for eye drops, he’d endure it. Eye drops weren’t cheap.

While waiting, Jian Yang casually chatted with a person nearby. This was a high-budget web drama shoot, and they were going to act as refugees running around in chaos.

Jian Yang: “This really is method acting!”

The director yelled, “Cut!”

Jian Yang started running wildly.

“Hey, the one in black! What are you doing!” The loudspeaker on set blared in a threatening voice, and Jian Yang stopped just in time to catch his breath.

He was already hungry, and running like this wasn’t sustainable.

Sad little whale.jpg

After catching his breath, he started the second rehearsal.

“Hey, the one in black! If you can’t run properly, we’ll replace you!”

Jian Yang looked around; what was so hard about acting in a refugee scene?

“Really strange, just a sweeping shot, is it that strict?” Jian Yang looked around but didn’t find anyone in black.

The background actor next to him comforted him, “It’s okay, it’s always like this the first time. Just act a couple more times, run faster later, blend in with the rest, and they won’t notice.”

Jian Yang pointed at himself: “Me?”

—His sleeves were black. He was the only one in black clothes on set.

Jian Yang looked up at the sky speechlessly. His lack of awareness was just too strong.

But he didn’t run badly. Why was he always being singled out? Running again, the assistant director grabbed him from the crowd and scolded him. As a background actor, he was lucky enough to appear solo in the director’s monitor.

“Can you even run? You’re either falling behind or out of frame. If you don’t want to do it, just quit. There are plenty of people who can do it.” The assistant director was merciless, reprimanding him in front of everyone.

Jian Yang looked over his running path from earlier, and there were no issues—it was supposed to be that way. He had performed in hundreds of extra roles, so there was no way something would go wrong now.

“Mr. Jian!” the director suddenly appeared from behind the black curtain near the monitors. “What are you doing here?”

Coincidentally, the director of this film was the same person who had critiqued his acting skills during the dinner last night. Jian Yang had a bad premonition—those who frequently appear in this world are usually the characters from the book.

“Director, he keeps running off-frame, I’ll switch him out right away.” The assistant director didn’t want to waste any more time on Jian Yang.

“No, the camera was just misaligned,” the director said seriously. “Please adjust the camera.”

“Director, wasn’t the camera something you confirmed earlier…” The assistant director grew quieter under the director’s gaze. “…Alright, I’ll go adjust it now.”

“Come back, first apologize to Mr. Jian.”

The assistant director was called back, shrugged, and lowered his head to apologize to Jian Yang. “Mr. Jian, I’m sorry, it’s my lack of professionalism, I made a wrong judgment.”

Jian Yang’s attention shifted to the camera. It wasn’t misaligned at all; in fact, it was perfectly aligned—set in the best position possible. Only an experienced director could have set it up like this.

“The camera’s fine. You don’t need to adjust it. I’m fine,” Jian Yang said.

He knew he wasn’t perfect, but he still had some conscience. Workers shouldn’t make things difficult for other workers.

Now, with just the two of them left, the director made a gesture inviting Jian Yang. “The lighting is bad now. We’ll reshoot this scene in the afternoon. May I have the honor of inviting you to a simple meal?”

Jian Yang didn’t want to get involved with the main characters from the book. One meal wasn’t enough to make him drop his dignity.

But a full banquet was another story.

It was no small feat to gather these “animals” from the land, sea, and sky on one table.

Jian Yang convinced himself with eight words: “At this point, I might as well eat.”