Idol Chapter 184

Chi Ji was idling in the old Mei family mansion, gradually filling in a lot of information.

Bo Jue explained the major and minor events of the past two years in a gentler and more concise manner, occasionally helping him to walk slowly in the sun-drenched corridor.

Every event was spoken of with a lightness, as if a burden had been lifted post-survival.

Jiang Shu had already received a cryptic message ensuring his safety, but after repeated discussions with Mei Shengyao from afar, they decided to wait until the situation stabilized before meeting.

The young man quietly listened to him recount various stories, not repeating his expressions of regret and remorse, merely lowering his head and tightly holding his friend’s hand.

A life given a second chance, a peaceful life after enduring calamities, and all the steadfast friends who never left his side.

Chi Ji knew what he now needed to cherish and enjoy.

Mei Shengyao had been guarding this place for two years, having fully furnished the underground space to be convenient and comprehensive for living, playing, and entertaining.

A semi-open kitchen, a projection screen, and a gaming console, with a two-meter-tall book wall hidden within a movable panel.

“Now that Yao Yao is twenty-one, I still sometimes feel like he’s just a kid.” Bo Jue adjusted the angle of the pillow, pulled over a soft blanket, and nestled with Chi Ji to watch TV in the pleasant breeze: “Ren Ren has also become much more outgoing, sometimes I think… that him walking that path alone, or rather, freeing himself from many constraints, was the right choice.”

Chi Ji leaned against his shoulder, slightly tilting his head: “And you?”

“Brother Jue, how have you been lately?”

Bo Jue paused for a few seconds, then stretched out his right hand in front of him.

His smile was instantly radiant and clear.

“I and your elder brother got engaged.”

Chi Ji made a sound of acknowledgment, reaching out to touch the glittering sapphire.

“That’s a big one!”

“Yes,” Bo Jue pretended to disdain: “Long Jia’s taste has always been like this, there’s nothing I can do.”

The fixed entertainment program during afternoon tea was “Chosen by the Gods.”

In the past, Corona was nearly the leader of popular variety shows, often too busy to even find time to sleep, only briefly watching TV dramas and variety shows before and after boarding planes.

Now that life had suddenly become idle, leisurely watching and eating sunflower seeds was quite enjoyable.

“Chosen by the Gods” had been incredibly popular from the auditions, and many people from schools to companies enjoyed following the show and discussing the gossip during their lunch breaks.

Bo Jue was often asked cryptic questions by colleagues.

“You and Huo Ren are so close, did he tell you about the debut list in advance?”

“Have those kids on TV had plastic surgery? Just tell me secretly, I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“Professor Bo, could you tell me if my kid can make it to the finals? Please, I’ll even cover your classes!”

Students also treated this guest professor as if he were a top-tier entertainment industry figure, but most were cautious of their grades and dared not ask openly, only managing to blink desperately during class.

Their pupils might as well have had big letters written on them, such as ‘Professor Bo, please tell me if my brother can make his debut, I’m begging you.’

Combining the fact that a student named Xiao Huan performed “Off the Races” at the start of the show, Bo Jue decided to simply turn off the TV.

Let whoever care about it, he’d rather leave that strange little brother at the company for anyone who wanted him.

Though he said so, when he and Chi Ji nestled together to watch TV during the summer vacation, there was still a bit of anticipation in his heart.

Chi Ji was still stuck in 2017, and although he had only slept for a year and a half, waking up again made him feel the dramatic sense of time travel.

A year and a half… it turns out so much can change.

“Actually,” Bo Jue peeled a piece of Turkish delight, sinking into the bedding with a relaxed expression: “Originally, Long Jia had complained to me, saying if it weren’t for his busy schedule, he would have liked to join this program.”

Six people as six mentors, each leading their own team, would probably be very chaotic, but also quite fun.

“Look,” he pointed at the dancing youth on the projection screen: “This one, and this one, and this one in the waiting area, these three kids would be especially suitable for you to mentor.”

Chi Ji curiously looked over each one, regretfully patting his thigh: “It’s too late.”

He didn’t know how long it would be before he could walk on his own, or if he would ever be able to dance again.

Bo Jue suddenly felt he had misspoken and instinctively gave him another glance.

“It’s okay, it’s good for Uncle Mei to mentor,” Chi Ji leaned back into his embrace, relaxed and languid: “I can’t be fierce, I probably won’t have any authority in front of them.”

Bo Jue looked slightly stunned, then chuckled softly.

“Actually…” he carefully chose his words, speaking slowly: “After the funeral, many people realized how precious you were.”

“Your old videos of dancing, singing, and many performances, including those criticized by some as too flamboyant or risqué, were all brought back.”

“They suddenly realized that only you could sing those beautiful songs, only you could dance like that.”

You aren’t just an insignificant number among thousands of stars.

You are the unique Chi Ji, the color of Corona.

Chi Ji gazed at the spinning dancers on the screen, shaking his head after a moment.

“If it takes a funeral for them to understand.”

“Then it’s all just… an illusion brought on by the atmosphere.”

Bo Jue rarely touched this tough side of Chi Ji.

In his memory, this younger brother was always soft, gentle, like a harmless bunny without any edges.

But just like when Jiang Shu wanted him to play along with a joke, Chi Ji had been firm and calm in his refusal.

Bo Jue stroked his soft hair, murmuring softly: “We’ve always loved you.”

“From the day we met, all five of us knew.”

Chi Ji smiled, rubbing against him, pressing his cheek into the palm of his hand.

So warm.

That Thursday night, Han Gaozhi hurriedly canceled his evening work plans and went home to see Han Qu, who was still lying low.

After a series of incidents, Han Qu had insisted on staying alone in the downtown apartment, but both elderly family members were deeply worried, fearing someone might harm their precious grandson, so they persuaded him to come home.

When Han Gaozhi arrived home, Han Qu was replying to emails and quickly switched the page upon seeing someone.

At over fifty and over thirty, it was actually awkward to talk face to face.

“Come over here,” Han Gaozhi said curtly: “Let’s talk.”

Han Qu cautiously observed his expression for a few seconds, trying to guess who he had met that day.

Several core figures at the company’s upper levels, Han Qu had won over four or five, and had frequent dealings with several branch offices.

He was afraid someone might take the chaos as an opportunity to report and seek favor.

Han Gaozhi’s expression was unpredictable as he lit a cigarette, unsure of where to start the conversation, or how to ask.

Some things, even when pressed, might not be disclosed.

“Why did you detain that person?”

“It got out of hand.” Han Qu spoke to his biological father using legalese learned from lawyers: “I was in a romantic relationship with that Mr. Xu, your second son introduced us at the opera.”

Not even feeling dirty about it.

Han Gaozhi’s face darkened as he took another drag of his cigarette and asked, “That wasn’t a dungeon?”

“How could it be,” Han Qu smiled: “Dad, have you ever seen a dungeon with a pool table?”

Han Qu tried to downplay the incident, arguing it was a minor injury that couldn’t prove much anyway.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t touched the core financial transactions of the company, nor was he aware that Eshan Venture Capital was being targeted for business by several firms at the same time.

“There are things, I know you’re hiding from me,” Han Gaozhi stated flatly: “Whether you admit it or not, it’s only a matter of time before they come out.”

Han Qu’s gaze shifted, choosing not to engage with his father’s words.

“I still control the company, and I can shield you for now. But not everything can be neatly resolved through connections.”

He looked up at his eldest son, his gaze suddenly sharp as a hawk’s.

“Han Qu, over the years, you’ve used my name to form factions, and I’ve already warned you as much as I should have.”

“I’ll ask you only once now, have you done anything over the line?”

Han Qu was initially startled, then laughed.

He could intuitively guess that many things were still well-hidden and unseen.

“What over-the-line things?”

Han Gaozhi’s voice was grave: “I am asking you.”

“Murder, rape, harming those you shouldn’t have, taking things that could never rightfully be yours.”

“Lay it all out now. I’m not offering you a way out, but at least I can think about how to protect the Han family.”

“Han Qu, I’ll ask you again, have you, or have you not?”

Han Qu looked at him for a while, feeling pity in his heart.

How could the older generation be so outdated and stubborn?

What era were they living in that they still put on airs of righteousness—what circle isn’t dirty, what money isn’t tainted?

It’s not just about seizing resources or women, isn’t the saying ‘commit murder for a gold belt’ difficult to understand?

Even if he hadn’t climbed his way up in the entertainment industry, staying a few years in the headquarters would surely be far better than his father could manage.

“No,” Han Qu said briefly: “It’s all just messing around with friends, I haven’t violated any principles.”

Han Gaozhi took a deep breath, stood up, and silently snuffed out his cigarette.

Before coming home, Han Gaozhi had already visited his eldest son’s company, summoning those sycophants to the office.

As the real financier behind the entertainment company, the senior executives were nervous and stuttering in front of the legendary founder of Eshan Venture Capital, not daring to hide anything.

After a stern half-hour interrogation, those men were crying, wiping away tears, claiming how they had been coerced, desperately trying to clear their names in hopes of escaping intact.

After interrogating them, Han Gaozhi drove home, his chest burning with a nameless rage that nearly tore him apart.

Bribery, collusion, suppressing dissidents, manipulating women.

Impressive, indeed.

So, he had sent his son to manage a smaller business to temper his character for over twenty years, only for him to cleverly create more trouble?!

Who knew how many people he had offended, both overtly and covertly, or what disgusting things he had done!!

Han Qu took the opportunity to glance at his WeChat while his father turned around; his subordinates were reporting that all was calm and nothing had happened today—Old Han had not visited the company.

Han Gaozhi turned back to look at him, his eyes full of meaningful intent.

“So, you’re saying all these things were setups, you were framed?”

Han Qu forced himself to maintain eye contact, remembering to nod after a long moment.

“Yes.”