YJDNY - 52

Celebrities are no strangers to scandals and have various ways of handling them. However, when it comes to issues like this, things seem to take on a different tone.

Filial piety has three levels: the highest is respecting one’s parents, the second is not disgracing them, and the lowest is merely providing for them. The issue of elder care has always been particularly sensitive and serious.

Xiang Ge sat on the hotel sofa, absently playing with her phone. She didn’t even need to look at it to know she was probably already being bombarded with criticism.

On the coffee table in front of her, a tablet displayed Song Zhi’s face, dark as if ink could drip from it. Xiang Ge’s expression remained unchanged as she tilted her head slightly and slouched lazily into the couch. “This video has been edited.”

Song Zhi raised an eyebrow.

“The editing is pretty good. I said some other things in between, but none of that’s here—only these few lines were kept.” Xiang Ge lifted her head casually, grabbed a cushion from the side, and propped it behind her head. She chuckled dryly. “Looks like they really hate me.”

Song Zhi covered his mouth with one hand, tapping his cheek with his fingertips. “What else did you say in the middle?”

“I don’t remember clearly. And I didn’t record it either. Do you think anyone would believe me if I just said it out loud?” Xiang Ge drawled lazily. “They’d probably say I’m shameless for doing something like this and not admitting it, that I deserve to be beaten to death or torn apart by horses.”

Song Zhi exhaled deeply, looking visibly troubled. “Why did I pick someone as troublesome as you? Why couldn’t I have promoted someone else?”

Xiang Ge feigned surprise. “Isn’t it because I’m the prettiest?”

“…”

Song Zhi let out a sharp hiss, looking as though he wanted to throw the ashtray next to him through the screen. “What I mean is, you need to tell me everything honestly so we can figure out how to handle this.”

Xiang Ge thought for a moment before speaking again, reciting her lines calmly. “Listen to me, it’s not what you think. Er Ya, don’t you trust me anymore?”

“…”

Song Zhi gritted his teeth, his voice ominous and warning. “Xiang Ge.”

Xiang Ge pouted. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“What’s the conflict between you and your father?” Song Zhi asked impatiently. “Did he cheat?”

Xiang Ge shook her head. “He hit me.”

“…”

Song Zhi was taken aback. “What?”

“He hit me, so I don’t want to see him.”

Song Zhi took a deep breath, not considering that possibility at all, dismissing it as childish tantrums. “My dad hits me too.”

Xiang Ge didn’t respond, silently staring at him for a moment.

Suddenly, she set down the pillow in her hands, leaned forward, and brought her face close to the tablet’s camera. She lifted her hair and turned her head, exposing a patch of skin behind her ear.

The video quality wasn’t great, but Gong Mo, sitting beside Xiang Ge, saw it clearly.

A jagged, horrifying scar. She instinctively held her breath.

On the other end of the video, Song Zhi fell silent as well.

Xiang Ge smiled indifferently. “When I was little, my parents divorced. After my mom left, he went crazy.” She paused, jokingly. “So it’s definitely not the kind of hitting your dad does to you.”

Song Zhi remained silent for a long time before finally speaking. “What do you want to do about this?”

Xiang Ge looked up, somewhat surprised.

She understood what he meant. By asking this, he was giving her the autonomy to decide, seeking her input.

Xiang Ge was an extremely proud person, possessing what Song Zhi saw as meaningless stubbornness and pride. This was something she wouldn’t want anyone to know.

Song Zhi suddenly recalled when he had urged her to take on Cocoon . Her tone had been almost pleading: “I don’t want to take it.”

Including just now—he hadn’t considered this at all.

Because she lived so freely.

A free-spirited, confident, and proud person who seemed to enjoy life without any shadows made it hard to associate her childhood with such circumstances.

Xiang Ge tilted her head back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling and sighed. “Yeah, what should I do?”

There was no other way. If the root cause wasn’t addressed, even if Xiang Lin personally came forward, it wouldn’t help—it might even backfire.

Song Zhi watched her, suddenly feeling irritated.

He frowned impatiently. “I understand the situation. I’ll have PR come up with something else—”

“It will affect him,” Xiang Ge interrupted abruptly.

“What?”

“If I speak up, he’ll be criticized.”

Song Zhi froze.

“Even if I’m not famous, this seems like a big deal right now. He’ll be exposed, possibly ambushed by reporters. After all, domestic violence is a serious social issue these days,” Xiang Ge murmured. “He’s already fifty years old.”

Song Zhi stared at her with an odd expression, speechless.

Xiang Ge didn’t notice his reaction, pressing her fingers against the back of her neck in frustration. “It’s so troublesome. What should I do?”

Song Zhi snapped out of it, almost incredulous. “Are you a saint? Is this really what you’re thinking about in this situation? Are you seriously considering what happens to him?”

Xiang Ge looked up earnestly. “I said that if he gets old and can’t earn money anymore, I’ll give him money. If he loses his job because of this, I’ll have a lot of trouble.”

Song Zhi sneered, rolling his eyes but didn’t call her out.

After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly asked her, “Do you hate him?”

Xiang Ge hadn’t expected this question and faced the screen candidly, not answering directly. “I don’t want to see him, but I also don’t want anything bad to happen to him. If he truly realizes what he’s done, then spending the rest of his life alone as penance is enough.”

She finished, glanced at her watch. “Boss, I need to go to the set. Even if the sky falls, I have to finish today’s work, or Director Bai will kill me.”

Song Zhi didn’t say anything, watching her end the video call. He leaned back into his chair, locking the screen before tilting his head up.

Xiang Lin sat on the couch nearby, head bowed, large droplets falling onto the expensive plush carpet beneath him.

Song Zhi looked at him calmly. “You have a good daughter.”

Xiang Lin’s throat tightened, his voice hoarse. “I’ve wronged everyone. I never expected anyone to still treat me with respect.”

Song Zhi straightened slightly, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the desk, fingers interlocked. “Though it pains me to say this, I can’t think about this situation from her perspective. I’m a businessman. The person I’ve worked so hard to build up can’t fall because of this. Mishandling this issue could lead to being morally blackmailed, which would be very troublesome.” Song Zhi looked at him almost coldly. “Will you cooperate with me?”

After ending the video call with Song Zhi, Xiang Ge hesitated for half a minute before reluctantly heading to the set.

Gong Mo drove her there. Fortunately, the shoot was still taking place at the school, and there were no paparazzi blocking the entrance. If there were any, the school security had already driven them away.

Even so, Xiang Ge felt uneasy as she slipped in, just in time to bump into Bai Yuandao walking out with a cup of water.

Bai Yuandao glanced at her. “What are you sneaking around for?”

Xiang Ge licked the corner of her lips, lowering her head. “Director Bai, I’m late.”

“Well, hurry up and get inside then!”

Xiang Ge sighed in relief, obediently responding with an “Oh” and scurrying in quietly.

The classroom was large, with a row of crew members sitting along the wall. Gu Yi was chatting with a few female extras nearby. As soon as Xiang Ge entered, the others nudged each other, their gazes converging on her.

Bai Yuandao wasn’t present at the moment. Gu Yi deliberately lowered her voice, though it was still loud enough for everyone, including Xiang Ge, to hear. She sneered twice. “The other day, I saw a Weibo post about an elderly scavenger who built a makeshift shelter out of garbage and survives on leftover food from restaurants every day. I can’t imagine what kind of life that must be.”

One of the smaller actresses beside her whimpered softly. “I can’t bear to read news like that. How could his children be like this? Taking care of an elderly person doesn’t require much effort. How could they be so heartless?”

“People who abandon their parents—do you expect them to be good people? Are they even human? They’re animals.”

“I hope all the scum in this world who neglect their elders get struck by lightning.”

Gu Yi coughed lightly, glancing around as if to remind them, pretending she hadn’t been the one to bring it up initially.

Ji Ran furrowed his brow, opening his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately stayed silent.

Xiang Ge listened to their increasingly loud discussion while flipping through today’s script, completely unfazed.

She didn’t care what they were saying or whether it was intentional for her to overhear.

Beside her, Gong Mo, who had been silent until now, suddenly stood up.

Though not tall, Gong Mo’s perpetually icy demeanor gave her an imposing presence. Her baby-faced features tensed slightly, as if grinding her teeth, and she moved to step forward. But Xiang Ge quickly grabbed her arm.

Xiang Ge glanced at her sideways. “What are you doing?”

“I’m a black belt in karate,” Gong Mo stated succinctly.

“…”

Xiang Ge choked. “Calm down. Violence won’t solve anything.”

“Someone who throws tea in people’s faces and slaps them by the hair has no right to say that to me.”

Xiang Ge scratched her brow. “Sit down first. I don’t care anyway.”

Gong Mo stared at her for a moment, then sat down, her face suppressing a near-furious emotion.

Xiang Ge found it astonishing to see such vivid emotion from her and couldn’t help but laugh.

Gong Mo glared at her, then pursed her lips. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Xiang Ge rested her chin on her hand and smiled. “About what?”

“At the time, Qiao Xin was there, but she didn’t tell me. When President Song asked you, you didn’t say anything either. Why?”

Xiang Ge stopped laughing.

Gong Mo looked at her calmly. “If there wasn’t a fourth person there, then—”

“It wasn’t her,” Xiang Ge interrupted, appearing nonchalant. “Since it wasn’t her, there was no reason to mention it.”

Gong Mo showed a slightly puzzled expression, seemingly confused why Xiang Ge would protect her.

Xiang Ge sighed. “Qiao Xin and I came from the right corridor. I told her to wait for me, and she stood by the window. But that video was shot from behind my left side. If it had been Qiao Xin, it would have been from my right instead.”

She tilted her head, gesturing subtly with her hand to indicate spatial positioning. “At the time…” Xiang Ge paused. “He came out of the men’s restroom. I walked over and spoke to him. To my left rear, opposite where Qiao Xin was standing—”

Gong Mo let out a soft “Ah.”

Xiang Ge smirked, her words slow and deliberate. “It was the women’s restroom.”