Can I still be saved? [Transmigration] - Chapter 52.1

Xu Huai took the hotel elevator straight down to the underground parking lot.

He unlocked the car, opened the door, and had just sat down when the phone in his pocket started to ring.

Xu Huai took it out, glanced indifferently at the caller ID, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lit a cigarette first.

Only when the ringtone was about to stop did he finally pick up.

From the other end came a man’s anxious, almost panicked voice: “Master Xu—Xu Ye, please, what did Yunjing do to offend you? Why go this far to mess with him?”

Xu Huai loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing a sharp, well-defined collarbone.

With a cigarette between his lips, his eyes lazy and detached, his tone carried a faint drawl:

“What, feeling sorry for your artist?”

That cool, careless tone made Yan Wei, on the other end, instantly sense something was off. He hurriedly forced a laugh.

“How could I dare? You and I—we go way back. I just wanted to ask if Su Yunjing did something wrong. I’ll have him apologize to you in person later.”

Xu Huai had deep connections in the entertainment industry. a proper graduate of the Film Academy’s directing department.

He not only inherited his father’s network in the Beijing film circle, but through his own drive and ambition over the years, Xu Huai had also built solid relationships with many of the newer industry power players.

The wildly popular 《Youthful Boys Group》¹ variety show from last year was produced by him. It single-handedly kicked off the idol era of traffic stars, turning a bunch of nobodies into household names overnight.

The term ‘traffic actor’ had already existed for seven or eight years, but it was Xu Huai who truly ignited the idol economy, pushing the word ‘idol’ into mainstream culture. He turned《Youthful Boys Group》 into a phenomenon that reshaped the entire industry.

This year, Yan Wei’s company had its eyes set on the new season of 《Youthful Boys Group》, planning to send some of their trainees onto the show.

Yan Wei had carefully handpicked six promising pretty boys, and one of them was Su Yunjing.

After repeatedly inviting Xu Huai out for dinner—three times before he finally agreed—Yan Wei took the chance to have him look over the six boys, to see if any might be worth keeping for the final lineup.

Throughout the meal, Xu Huai’s gaze kept lingering on Su Yunjing. That surprised Yan Wei.

He didn’t know when Xu Huai had started showing interest in that kind of thing, but he still subtly hinted that—if Xu Huai wanted to try something new—he could talk to Su Yunjing.

As far as Yan Wei knew, Su Yunjing was straight. But in this industry, how far you got depended on whether you knew how to climb the right ladder when it was offered.

Xu Huai, being a shrewd old fox, understood the hint perfectly. He didn’t respond directly—just gave a small, polite smile, taking it as a joke.

He didn’t refuse outright, and that silence was, in itself, a kind of agreement.

Yan Wei, relieved, worked hard to persuade Su Yunjing to go along with the opportunity. Once he succeeded, he sent Xu Huai a hotel room card and the address.

Xu Huai’s reputation in the industry was mixed—professionally, he was recognized as talented and capable, but  his private life was said to be spotless. People often said he was obsessive about cleanliness, and he’d never been caught up in any scandal or gossip.

He had thought that, for Su Yunjing, spending one night with Xu Huai wasn’t exactly a loss. After all, the man had money, looks, and powerful connections.

If Su Yunjing played his cards right and managed to please Xu Huai, maybe he could earn a few extra seconds of screen time. perhaps even secure a debut spot in the group.

But unexpectedly, Xu Huai didn’t go to the hotel himself. He handed the room card off—to Li Guozhong.

Li Guozhong was notorious in the circle—cruel, unrestrained, and with… peculiar tastes. There had already been several people sent to the hospital after ‘entertaining’ him.

He was generous, yes, but when it came to his hands,he didn’t hold back.

No one knew what exactly Xu Huai told him, but after Su Yunjing escaped from the hotel that night, Li Guozhong called Yan Wei in a fury.

Yan Wei, still completely in the dark, was instantly blasted by a string of curses from Li Guozhong. Meanwhile, Xu Huai walked away spotless, untouched by the mess he’d created.

Even though he’d been played, Yan Wei didn’t dare to hold a grudge. After all, he still needed Xu Huai’s favor—more screen time for his artists, a better edit, a crafted persona that might just make them overnight stars.

So all he could do was vent his frustration at Su Yunjing, cursing him for not knowing his place. picking the worst possible man to offend, a smiling tiger with a knife behind his back.

Su Yunjing, of course, had no idea about any of this.

After everything that had happened that night, exhausted and still unwell, he fell asleep slumped in the car.

When Jiang Chunan finished a call and looked over, he saw Su Yunjing’s eyes tightly shut. The man seemed to be burning up, his eyelids flushed red from fever, his brows knitted in pain, and soft, feverish sounds escaping his lips.

Jiang Chunan looked at that all-too-familiar face and pressed his lips together tightly.

He reached for the first-aid kit, pulled out an electronic thermometer, and held it against Su Yunjing’s wrist.

The reading confirmed it. He really did have a fever.

This car was often used to drive Fu Hanzhou around, so there was always a blanket kept inside. Jiang Chunan pulled one out and draped it over Su Yunjing’s body but before he could even tuck it in properly, his phone started ringing again.

In his feverish haze, Su Yunjing vaguely heard Jiang Chunan address the caller as “Brother Fu.” That name hit something deep in him—his eyelashes fluttered, and he forced his heavy eyelids open just a crack.

Sure enough, Jiang Chunian was on the phone, speaking in his calm, businesslike tone. But Su Yunjing’s head was spinning, his body alternated between chills and burning heat, and his thoughts kept scattering apart.

Before he could make sense of the conversation, the darkness pulled him under again.

He didn’t know how long he slept before someone started calling his name.

It had been so long since anyone had called him “Su Yunjing.” For a moment, he felt disoriented—as if this whole ‘book transmigration’ experience had just been a strange, surreal dream he’d had one night.

In that dream, when he woke up, he went back to his dead-end job, earning an ordinary salary, planning to marry an ordinary girl, and build an ordinary life.

But reality pulled him back. He couldn’t wake up, and someone was still trying to wake him.

When calling his name didn’t work, Jiang Chunian sighed and told the driver to carry him upstairs.

He hadn’t planned to bring Su Yunjing home. Booking a hotel room for him should’ve been more than enough goodwill.

But no matter what kind of person Su Yunjing was… with that face, Jiang Chunian couldn’t bring himself to leave a feverish man alone in some random hotel room.

Being carried upstairs made Su Yunjing feel even worse. His head throbbed as if thousands of fine needles were piercing through it, each step jolting them deeper into his nerves.

When he was finally laid on the bed, someone was still fussing over him.

“Open your mouth and take your medicine.”

“Don’t move, the fever patch’s about to fall off.”

It took quite some effort for Jiang Chunian to get Su Yunjing to take his medicine, stick a cooling patch on his forehead, and rub alcohol on his wrists, palms, soles, and neck before finally settling back into his wheelchair.

He looked at the man fast asleep and sighed softly. Unable to resist that face, he reached out to tuck the blanket more securely around him.

Su Yunjing looked far, far too much like Wen Ci—so much that Jiang Chunian found himself slipping into a daze, as if transported back to those years long past.

He’d only been seventeen or eighteen when he left…

Jiang Chunian didn’t dare let his thoughts wander any further. He turned his wheelchair and left the room.

….

Su Yunjing slept straight through until noon the next day. The curtains were drawn thick, dimming the light and tricking him into thinking he hadn’t slept for long.

Struggling to sit up, he still felt weak and groggy—but compared to yesterday, this was a huge improvement. At least now, he could get out of bed and walk.

This wasn’t a hotel room. Had Jiang Chunian actually brought him home last night?

On the bedside table lay a piece of paper—a note Jiang Chunian had left for him.

Maybe it was all those TV dramas he’d watched, but he half-expected Xiao Jiang to still be that gentle, kind-hearted person from the past—someone who would take in a stranger and thoughtfully leave a note saying something like, There’s breakfast in the fridge.

But when he picked it up, there were only two short lines:

「 There’s surveillance in the room. Leave as soon as you wake up. If anything’s missing from my house, I’ll see you at the police station.

I’ve left you 100 yuan for cab fare. No need to pay me back.」

Su Yunjing couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh. It seemed that in these past years, little Jiang had truly been schooled by the cruelty of society and now knew how treacherous people’s hearts could be.

There was a clean set of clothes folded neatly by the bed. After putting them on and using the bathroom, Su Yunjing didn’t linger. He obediently took the 100 yuan and left.

Following the memories of this body’s original owner, Su Yunjing returned to the company dormitory.

Their company specialized in training promising-looking young trainees like the original host, hiring professional instructors to teach them singing and dancing.

But the original host was mediocre at both—his only real advantage was a good-looking face and a slick, adaptable personality.

After idol culture exploded in popularity, many entertainment agencies jumped on the trend, eager to cash in quickly.

To certain investors, strong skills were just a bonus. What truly mattered were looks, luck, image—and whether or not you were destined to become famous.

And so, someone as average in every way but looks as the original host managed to stay on, signing a harsh, exploitative labor contract with the company.

The company dormitory was located in an old residential building filled with one-bedroom studio apartments.

For bottom-tier trainees like the original host, four tall young men were crammed into a space of less than sixty square meters.

To save space, they used bunk beds, but the boards were nowhere near as sturdy as the one he’d shared with Fu Hanzhou.

After taking a shower, Su Yunjing was just about to get some more sleep when one of the trainees, Yuan Ming, came back.

Seeing Su Yunjing in the dorm, Yuan Ming frowned. “What are you doing here? Brother Yan’s been looking for you everywhere! He chewed us all out for it—said it’s our fault you didn’t come back to the dorm, and that we didn’t call to report it.”

“Fvck, what’s his problem? Hitting menopause or something? Every tiny thing and he needs a damn report….”

The tall boy, about one meter eighty-five, peeled off his sweat-soaked T-shirt, cursing as he went into the bathroom. His voice echoed intermittently over the sound of running water.

The ‘Brother Yan’ Yuan Ming mentioned was the original host’s agent, Yan Wei—the one who’d pulled strings behind the scenes, persuading the original host to sell himself for fame.

Su Yunjing’s phone had been left behind in the hotel room. Yan Wei, frantic to figure out what had happened, had spent all night trying to contact him, and when he couldn’t reach him, he took out his anger on Yuan Ming and the others.

Standing by the bathroom door, Su Yunjing called out over the sound of the shower, “Can I borrow your phone for a minute? Mine is lost, I need to call Brother Yan.”

The water stopped, and Yuan Ming’s muffled voice came from inside, “It’s on my bed. Grab it and bring it here.”

Yuan Ming and the original host had joined the company late, so the two of them slept in the living room—one on the top bunk, the other on the bottom.

Su Yunjing picked up the phone and brought it over. Yuan Ming cracked the door open just enough to reach a hand out, unlocked the phone, and pulled up Yan Wei’s number for him.

“Let me make this clear,” Yuan Ming warned, uneasy. “Just make your call. Don’t go poking around my apps.”

“Got it,” Su Yunjing said, and dialed.

Yuan Ming went back to showering, while Su Yunjing stepped out to the balcony to make the call.

The moment Yan Wei heard his voice, he exploded, an onslaught of curses right from the start.

Su Yunjing had always heard that trainee life was miserable, but this was the first time he’d experienced it firsthand and the first time anyone had ever spoken to him like that.

No wonder so many idols ended up having their public images collapse. Getting screamed at like this day after day. if anyone managed to stay a pure, kind little lamb, that’d be a miracle.

Unable to bear the tirade any longer, Su Yunjing cut him off. “Brother Yan, what exactly do you need from me?”

“What the fvck do I need from you? You’ve got no talent, no brains, but damn, you sure know how to piss people off!”

The ‘people’ he referred to were Xu Huai and Li Guozhong—two figures Yan Wei couldn’t afford to offend. Stuck between them, the agent could only vent his frustration on Su Yunjing.