Everyone Says I Ride on the Movie King's Fame, Only the Movie King Knows I'm His Creditor - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Shen Yan really did bring a contract.

We met at a very quiet teahouse.

He pushed the documents across the table to me.

I opened them and saw a loan repayment agreement.

Principal: thirty-eight thousand six hundred yuan.

Interest calculated according to the private lending rate over seven years.

And one additional item:

Compensation for reputational damage.

The amount was left blank.

I looked up at him.

“You want me to fill it in?”

Shen Yan nodded.

“Mm.”

“What if I write one hundred million?”

“I’ll work hard.”

My hand paused.

He didn’t look like he was joking.

I closed the file.

“Shen Yan, you know I don’t actually want you to pay me back like this.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you make this?”

He lowered his eyes to the teacup.

“Because I don’t know how else to make you believe that I really want to repay you.”

I fell quiet.

Shen Yan had always been like this.

If someone gave him a bowl of rice, he would remember it as an entire banquet.

Back then, I lent him the money partly because my heart softened, and partly because I thought he would become famous.

That sounds calculating.

But it was true.

At the time, he was sitting by the roadside with a fever, in an absolutely wretched state, yet there was a stubborn, unwilling-to-lose fierceness in his eyes.

I thought, if this man survived, he would probably go very far.

But I never imagined that after he did go far, he would trap himself in that debt.

I pushed the contract back to him.

“Pay me the principal and normal interest.”

“No need for reputational damages.”

Shen Yan frowned.

I said, “That wasn’t entirely on you.”

“I was responsible.”

“You were.”

I looked at him.

“So pay it back slowly.”

He lifted his eyes.

I deliberately said, “For example, from now on, whenever I need a partner, a recommendation, or someone to eat with, I’ll come to you.”

A light slowly came into Shen Yan’s eyes.

“Okay.”

“I was joking.”

“I’m taking it seriously.”

Outside the teahouse window, a light rain began to fall.

I lowered my head to drink my tea, pretending not to see the expectation in his eyes.

Just then, Sister Chen called.

“Jiang Tang, something happened.”

My heart tightened.

“What is it?”

“Someone leaked that your mother owed gambling debts back then. They’re saying the thirty-eight thousand six hundred you lent Shen Yan wasn’t to save someone at all, but to transfer your family’s debt.”

I closed my eyes for a moment.

Shen Yan had already risen to his feet.

“Who leaked it?”

Sister Chen said, “Qin Yue.”

I wasn’t surprised at all.

Qin Yue knew better than anyone how to drive a knife into the most painful place.

My mother had indeed owed money back then.

But not gambling debts.

After my father passed away, she borrowed from loan sharks to pay for my performing arts exam prep.

I worked as an extra, a stand-in, took bit parts-scrimping and saving desperately-all to pay off those debts.

That thirty-eight thousand six hundred was, in fact, originally supposed to be sent home.

Later, I gave it to Shen Yan.

If this story was maliciously edited, it would be more than enough to nail me back to the target board labeled “schemer,” “investor,” and “using life-saving money for hype.”

Shen Yan looked at me.

“Jiang Tang.”

I raised my eyes.

“What?”

“This time, don’t let me handle it alone.”

I froze.

He said in a low voice, “You should speak too.”

“It’s your own story. You should be the one to tell it.”