He looked up at the building of Yundu Entertainment and said lightly, “This is Evan Clark’s life. I have to live the way Evan Clark wants to live.”

System felt a slight stir in its heart.

…It seemed that Little Ford was not as reckless and thoughtless as he had imagined.

System asked, “So what are you planning to do next?”

Little Ford didn’t answer, just started walking away from the Yundu Entertainment building.

Not far away, a large jewelry endorsement poster of Helen Turner was looping on an LED screen.

The Helen Turner incident was a huge turning point in Evan Clark’s tragic life, but for Helen Turner, it sent her popularity soaring and allowed her to successfully reinvent herself.

In the lives of Helen Turner and Evan Clark, one was the protagonist, the other the supporting role, and the purpose of the supporting role was to use their own dimness to set off the brilliance of the other.

But in Little Ford’s world, he was used to being the protagonist.

Little Ford muttered to himself, “…Since that’s the case, let’s see who the real protagonist is, and may the best person win.”

Chapter 7: The Genius Cannon Fodder’s Counterattack (Seven)

A few days later, Little Ford began packing up, preparing to move into the apartment that Jack Clark had bought.

He specifically hired a moving company to take his beloved piano from Brian Young’s house.

After the piano was gone, the living room felt much emptier.

Even though there were pads under the piano legs, the spot where it had stood still left white marks, different from the color of the surrounding floor.

Little Ford filled a bucket with clean water and hummed a song as he scrubbed the floor.

Brian Young was also busy cleaning up, getting ready to welcome his parents.

Evan Clark was humming the song that had been played for him in the car that day, bobbing his head, looking very happy.

But this happiness, in Brian Young’s eyes, only made him feel more irritable.

When Evan Clark was in college, he was obsessed with avant-garde music that “instrumentalized the human voice”—extremely niche, with very high professional standards. As a result, the small band Evan Clark formed never had more than five members in four years.

Brian Young had once gone to Evan Clark’s school to watch them perform. The kids played hand drums and violins, singing and dancing in a small music room, no lyrics, just improvising with doo-doo-la-la sounds, picking up each other’s melodies and harmonizing together.

After the performance, Evan Clark ran over to Brian Young with his guitar.

Brian Young handed him a bottle of water: “Are you guys going to perform somewhere?”

Evan Clark, hugging the water bottle: “Nope. We’re just playing.”

He took a couple of gulps: “Do you like it?”

Brian Young smiled and asked back, “Are you happy?”

Evan Clark grinned, showing a row of white teeth: “I’m happy.”

Brian Young smoothed his hair: “If you’re happy, then I like it.”

Back then, Evan Clark was still young, just a sophomore, raised in a honey jar, what did he know? Just wanting to play was normal.

…But why hasn’t he grown up even now?

Four years of college, all he did was “play.” Now he has no real skills to rely on, still hoping to make a living with music. Does he plan to just “play” for his whole life?

Little Ford couldn’t be bothered to guess at Brian Young’s complicated thoughts and just kept humming.

Brian Young set the rinsed mop to dry by the balcony, wiped his hands, and ruffled Little Ford’s hair, speaking in a helpless, coaxing tone: “Why do you seem so happy about moving out?”

Little Ford really was happy, even wanting to set off some 3 a.m. fireworks to celebrate.

After all, he didn’t want to waste an extra 4 points every day just to ensure his own and Brian Young’s moral safety while living together.

Little Ford made up a story: “No, no. I just haven’t seen my friend in a long time. Now that I’m staying at his place, we’ll have so much to talk about.”

Brian Young frowned slightly: “What friend?”

Little Ford said, “A childhood friend.”

“…What’s his name?”

Little Ford answered softly, “Ian Lowe.”

Maybe it was just his imagination, but when “Ian Lowe” was mentioned, Brian Young noticed that “Evan Clark”’s expression and tone softened for a moment, as if this name was a hidden treasure in his heart, only brought out occasionally to be cherished in the light.

Brian Young became alert: “How come you’ve never mentioned him before?”

Little Ford dipped the rag in the bucket, swished it around, then wrung it out: “He went abroad a long time ago.”

Only then did Brian Young realize he hadn’t asked an important question: “You only told me you found a place to stay, but you haven’t told me where you’re living.”

Little Ford gave the name of a residential complex, then started to enjoy watching Brian Young’s changing expression.

—The monthly property management fee there was even higher than Brian Young’s salary.

System said, “Isn’t that the place Jack Clark…”

Little Ford said, “Shh, don’t talk, just feel it.”

System: “…Feel what?”

Little Ford: “The thrill of a pay-to-win player crushing everyone else.”

System: “…”

Brian Young snapped out of it and asked, “What kind of person is he?”

Little Ford replied, “He’s great. He was my best friend when I was a kid.”

Brian Young pressed his lips together: “Xiao Cheng, how long has it been since you last saw him?”

Without thinking, Little Ford answered, “Twelve years.”