Chapter 133: The Father Who Exploited His Child Star (26)

On his way to class, Xie Chu was thinking about visiting his godmother with his father that weekend and began considering what gifts would be most appropriate.

Tall trees lined both sides of the campus road, and the sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The sight lifted Xie Chu’s mood.

After dropping off the lunchbox, Xie Hui returned home and saw Zhaocai—the chubby orange cat—sunbathing in the corridor. As he walked past, the cat barely moved, only wagging its tail in its usual way, which made a rare pang of sadness rise in his chest.

By cat standards, Zhaocai had already lived a long life. But with age, its reactions had clearly slowed. In its younger days, it would have opened its eyes the moment he stepped through the door.

That weekend, Xie Hui brought Xie Chu to visit Yang Yu, carrying a few handmade snacks.

Gu Jingtong came from a good family and had achieved great success in his career. To people like them, expensive gifts meant little—it was the sincerity that counted.

Especially now, with Yang Yu struggling through her pregnancy and unable to stomach much, the simple handmade treats Xie Hui brought felt like a blessing in a snowstorm.

That day, knowing the father and son were visiting, Gu Jingtong did something uncharacteristic—he skipped work. After rinsing some fruit, he was promptly shooed to the balcony by Yang Yu.

When he saw Xie Chu and Xie Hui arrive, he immediately began to complain: he’d been home all day, and Yang Yu still griped that he smelled bad and made her nauseous.

“Pregnancy really does change people,” Xie Hui said as he handed over the gifts. Since Yang Yu’s pregnancy symptoms were severe, she stayed upstairs. As the two men chatted, talk naturally turned to the film Gu Jingtong was preparing to shoot.

“Chu Chu, don’t disappoint your godfather. We’ll start you off with a supporting role, and once you’re ready, you’ll be the male lead in one of my films.”

Gu Jingtong meant every word. Both personally and professionally, he had high hopes for Xie Chu and firmly believed the young man would have a place in the entertainment world.

Little Xie Chu had been heartbreakingly cute, and even as he grew up, he didn’t “grow out of” his good looks. His features were distinct, his presence gentle, and his performance during the audition had been effortlessly natural.

Watching that audition, Gu Jingtong finally understood why his mentor used to say Xie Chu was a gift from the heavens.

After filming wrapped, Xie Chu was interviewed before he’d even changed out of his costume.

“Xie Chu, this is your first time acting as an adult. Was there anything you found challenging?”

His face still full of baby fat and a touch of youthful awkwardness, Xie Chu smiled at the camera and answered seriously:

“Yes. It’s my first time acting since I grew up, so there’s a lot I still don’t quite understand. Director Gu really put in a lot of effort.”

Gu Jingtong, having just wrapped up a task nearby, heard that Xie Chu was being interviewed. Worried that the reporters would pull their usual tricks, he rushed over.

“What’s all this about? When’s this interview ending? The wrap-up party’s waiting on you.”

Hearing the urgency and protectiveness in his voice, the reporter forced a polite smile and quickly wrapped things up.

With anyone else, they might have kept pushing. But Director Gu wasn’t like other directors. Most would swallow their pride for the sake of reputation, tolerating even the most ridiculous questions.

Not Gu Jingtong. If someone rubbed him the wrong way, he’d call them out on the spot. If someone tried to embarrass him, he wouldn’t just withhold face—he’d rip theirs off. He rarely gave interviews, and the few explosive moments that did leak out made many reporters tread lightly around him.

There had once been a reporter who badmouthed his temper behind his back, only for Gu Jingtong to openly acknowledge it in a later interview: Yes, he had a bad temper. Reporters who asked inappropriate questions had better be prepared. Respect was mutual—and if they couldn’t show basic courtesy, they were lucky he didn’t stomp their faces in.

After the interview, Xie Chu headed backstage to remove his makeup. Smiling, he said:

“Thanks, Godfather.”

“What are you thanking me for? Hurry up and get changed, then we’ll go celebrate. I’ve got a big red envelope waiting for you.”

Thinking back to the little boy who used to treasure red envelopes like gold, Gu Jingtong got a little nostalgic—time had flown.

What he remembered most clearly was young Xie Chu in costume, sprawled in Director Xu’s old rocking chair, swinging back and forth while counting his red envelopes with pudgy hands. That greedy little expression was so adorable he still couldn’t forget it.

After changing and removing his makeup, Xie Chu’s face was bright and fresh, full of the energy of youth.

Gu Jingtong waved him over and took him to his car. As they drove through traffic, the conversation shifted to Yang Yu.

“Chu Chu, do you think your godmother’s baby will be as well-behaved as you were?”

Xie Chu’s ears instantly turned red. Childhood stories were always a little embarrassing now. Everyone said he had been obedient, but he remembered plenty of mischievous moments too—his dad just didn’t talk about them much.

Like that time he fell in a mud puddle and wouldn’t stop crying until his dad picked him up—if he didn’t, he’d just sit there sulking in the muck.

He didn’t remember many of those incidents, but he could imagine he’d been a handful.

Truthfully, Gu Jingtong was just overly excited about becoming a father. Lately, he’d been grinning like a fool, sharing the news with anyone who would listen. Before Xie Chu could reply, he said with a smile:

“A little naughty is good—it means they won’t get pushed around. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter, but if they take after your godmother’s looks, we’re golden.”

Xie Chu laughed and nodded. He thought so too. His godmother was beautiful, so the baby would be cute no matter what.

At the wrap-up party, Xie Chu didn’t drink much—most of it was blocked by Gu Jingtong. After everyone had eaten and begun to leave, just as they reached the hotel entrance, he spotted a familiar figure by the road.

He was so happy that he forgot to say goodbye to his godfather and broke into a light jog.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Your godfather called and said you’d had a drink. I was a little worried, so I came to pick you up.”

Xie Chu grinned and took the items from his father’s hands. They walked side by side down the sidewalk.

“Dad, I only had half a glass of fruit wine. Godfather said I’m just an adult now, so drinking too much isn’t good.”

“Director Xu used to say the same. When you were little, he even brought milk for you at toasts. The others barely touched their glasses, but you downed two full ones.”

The little boy who used to stretch up to toast was now taller than him.

“Come on, Dad, I was just a kid back then! I’m not that silly anymore.”

He didn’t remember much, but the stories still made him laugh.

Since the hotel wasn’t far from home, they didn’t take a cab. Father and son walked, chatting as they went.

“I heard Xia Li’s been up to something again?”

Gu Jingtong had mentioned it before. Xie Chu rarely brought up such things himself.

“Yeah, it’s a bit annoying.”

Xie Chu frowned. He didn’t care about the stuff from their childhood, but now that Xia Li’s actions were affecting him, it was starting to bother him.

“Don’t you want to get back at him?”

Xie Chu hesitated, then glanced cautiously at his father’s face.

“Just say what’s on your mind. I won’t scold you.”

“Dad, honestly… I don’t think it’s necessary.”

Some might call him soft, or accuse him of avoiding trouble—but Xie Chu genuinely didn’t think it was worth wasting energy on.

“I feel like… if I’m good enough, if I can stand high enough—at a height he could never reach—that’s the best revenge.”

He understood that Xia Li couldn’t stand the sight of him. After all, no thief likes to face the rightful owner.

“I respect whatever decision you make,” Xie Hui said.

Xie Chu broke into a bright smile.

Even when his thoughts ran counter to popular opinion, and he feared his father might scold him, most of the time, he still dared to speak his heart.

From childhood to adulthood, his father’s unwavering respect had always been Xie Chu’s greatest source of confidence.

Thanks to this foundation, Xie Chu’s career in the entertainment industry went smoothly, with few real setbacks. What frustrated fans the most was that, even after all these years, he was still the same as he’d been as a child—focused solely on acting in dramas, rarely appearing on variety shows.

After graduation, he took part in Director Xu’s final project. A lifelong director of costume dramas, Director Xu, now older and preparing for retirement, decided to indulge himself by creating the kind of arthouse film he’d always wanted to make.

When the film was released, even with Xie Chu in the cast, the box office performance was poor. The film was widely ridiculed, but Xie Chu still accepted an interview.

“Are you disappointed by the film’s underwhelming box office results?”

“No. I actually think it’s a really good film.”

“Are you worried it might hurt your career?”

“Of course not. Worst case, like I said before—I’ll go sell fried skewers. I won’t starve.”

After that interview aired, fans dug up the original clip of him saying those words. The video was a bit blurry.

A little boy stood next to a young Gu Jingtong, barely reaching his waist. He held a cup and sipped water with his head down. The reporter’s voice had long faded in the background.

“Huh? Then I’ll go back and sell fried skewers with Dad.”

Meanwhile, Xie Hui, leisurely sipping tea and listening to opera in a rocking chair, received the video sent by Gu Jingtong. He watched it closely, feigning indifference—but the curve of his lips betrayed his pride.

So old already, yet still like a child—always thinking about selling fried skewers.

Though Director Xu’s final work flopped commercially, it swept awards at the year-end ceremony and became the most critically acclaimed film of the year.

It was a script Director Xu had wanted to shoot when he was young but never dared to. Now that retirement was near, he no longer cared about outcomes. The script was deep and layered—completely out of step with today’s fast-paced, surface-level entertainment culture.

But unexpectedly, it won big, much to everyone’s surprise. Delighted, Director Xu insisted on throwing another party to truly celebrate.

Though the film didn’t earn much, Xie Chu’s performance was outstanding. Combined with the strong backing of his agency, he caught the attention of another director, who personally invited him to star as the male lead in a new project.

Xie Chu was thrilled when he heard the news. But his assistant’s expression wavered, as if wanting to say something but holding back. Seeing how happy Xie Chu was, he chose to stay silent.

In truth, the assistant had heard from a contact in the industry that Xia Li had pulled a lot of strings—attending endless social events and even resorting to shady tactics—just to land an audition.

But in the end, after watching Director Xu’s final film, the director immediately chose Xie Chu, declaring that no other auditions were needed.

To take on the role, Xie Chu had his agent reschedule some existing commitments. He was deeply grateful that his father had had the foresight to help him sign with such a good agency.

There were many predatory companies in the entertainment industry, but there were good ones too. His father had chosen well—one of the rare companies that could hold onto multiple A-list celebrities.

Even after Xie Chu became an A-lister himself, he didn’t switch agencies or open his own studio. He stayed.

Just as he was preparing to head to the film set, he suddenly got a call from Gu Jingtong.

“Have you seen the trending topics?”

Xie Chu, who’d been memorizing lines, hadn’t been paying attention to any of that. Hearing his godfather’s voice, he paused before answering:

“I’ve been reading the script lately, haven’t checked. Did something happen?”

After rising to fame, Xie Chu had grown used to the occasional fake scandal. He never bothered to clarify everything—it would be impossible even if he didn’t sleep.

Reading them only added to his frustration, so he took his father’s advice and ignored them.

“Go take a look.”

“Alright.”

After hanging up, Xie Chu opened the app he hadn’t used in a long time. One glance at the trending topics, and his face immediately darkened.