Peninsula: I can steal the luck of disgraced celebrities

Just as Park Yoochun was about to leave this place of trouble, a voice behind him sent chills down his spine.

"senior."

Lin Puzhi had somehow walked up behind him.

Holding an unopened box of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other, she wore an innocent smile.

Park Yoochun stood frozen in place, unsure whether to leave or stay.

"Since you're already here, have some ice cream before you go." Lin Puzhi handed the ice cream to Park Yoochun. "It's matcha flavored, it's pretty good."

Park Yoochun stared at the box of ice cream, his pupils dilating slightly.

Things that Lin Puzhi's hands touched.

This box of ice cream might have some evil spirit mixed in or some curse attached to it.

His mind flashed through all the little misfortunes he'd had in the past month: his hat had blown away by the wind three times, his wig had come loose twice while he was wearing it, his belt buckle had popped off once, he'd tripped over props twice while filming, and the chair leg had inexplicably broken once while he was sitting...

All of this happened after he met Lin Puzhi.

"No, thank you. I don't eat sweets."

"Reduce sugar, it's not sweet." Lin Puzhi moved forward half an inch.

Park Yoochun took half a step back.

Lin Puzhi moved forward another half inch.

Park Yoochun stepped back again, his back hitting the metal plate on the side of the food cart.

There was no way to retreat.

"Come here, senior."

Lin Puzhi spoke in a gentle tone, as if he were coaxing a child.

Park Yoochun's hand trembled as he reached out and took the box of ice cream.

His fingers visibly trembled when the edge of the plastic box touched his fingertips.

Remove the lid. Pick up the spoon.

Next to the food truck, all the crew members' eyes were on him.

Park Min-young, holding her coffee, watched this scene with great interest.

Seo Hyo-rin hid behind Park Min-young, only showing half of her face.

Park Yoochun carefully scooped a spoonful of ice cream and put it in his mouth.

The bittersweet flavor of matcha melts on the tip of the tongue, cool and smooth.

He squinted, waiting for misfortune to strike.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Nothing happened.

It's just ice cream, matcha flavored, reduced sugar version, and it tastes surprisingly good.

"Is it tasty?"

"It's alright," Park Yoochun said dryly.

He tried to put the ice cream down casually, but Lin Puzhi was still watching him, and everyone around him was watching him.

He could only keep eating, bite after bite, until the entire box of the cursed matcha ice cream was gone.

The ice cream was delicious, but he felt like he was being tortured.

Lin Puzhi nodded in satisfaction and turned to walk back to the food cart.

Park Yoochun stood there, clutching an empty box and a spoon in his hand.

His expression was complex, as if he had just swallowed a live frog, not ice cream.

He didn't know whether to be thankful that he was safe and sound, or to worry that the misfortune was just delayed.

He looked down at his hands—they weren't trembling.

He looked down at his feet again—he hadn't tripped over anything.

I looked up again—no unidentified flying object had fallen.

He seemed to be alright, but he still didn't dare to stay where he was.

Once Lin Puzhi wasn't paying attention to him, he casually tossed the empty box and spoon on the ground and immediately slipped back to the lounge.

There was a newly bought, consecrated Buddha statue there; only there could he find a sliver of security.

No sooner had Park Yoochun left than Lin Puzhi burst out laughing.

He placed the spoon he was holding on the dining cart table and watched the figure covered in magical artifacts disappear into the lounge doorway, his steps so fast it looked like someone was chasing him.

The person who was making threats at him in the study room a month ago now wouldn't dare refuse a box of ice cream offered by him.

Lin Puzhi took out his phone, looked through his contacts, found the name Li Hengmin, and dialed it.

"Feed?"

"Director Li."

Lin Puzhi leaned back in his chair, sunlight filtering through the ginkgo leaves behind him, painting his face with shimmering gold.

"Your food truck has arrived, enough for a hundred people, quite a sight!"

"Have you eaten?" Lee Hyung-min asked without any pleasantries.

"I'm eating now; the ice cream and fruit are both good."

"That's good."

The sound of a lighter coming from the other end of the phone was followed by the sound of someone taking a deep breath, the smoke from which muffled the sound.

"I heard there are some unfriendly people in your film crew?"

Lin Puzhi raised an eyebrow.

He never mentioned his conflict with Park Yoochun to Lee Hyungmin.

But Lee Hyung-min had been in this industry for over a decade, and his network of connections had long since become a spider web. Naturally, some things happening in the entertainment industry would reach his ears through some of these threads.

"That's not true." Lin Puzhi scooped up a spoonful of ice cream. "Everyone in the crew is very enthusiastic and speaks very nicely. I really like this crew."

"Heh, there's no need to lie to me."

Lee Hyung-min's tone suddenly became very sharp, but not in an angry way.

"You thought this car was a gift from me? It's me returning it to you."

Lin Puzhi paused slightly in his grip on the phone.

Give me back what I owe you? What does that mean?

"The drama 'Bad Guy'," Lee Hyung-min said, taking another deep drag of his cigarette, "was previously overshadowed by the World Cup, and its ratings dropped to single digits..."

He paused.

"I thought this drama was going to sink along with my reputation, but then your affair with Han Ga-in came out."

"I know it's fake, and you know it's fake, but do you know what it means for a Wednesday-Thursday drama to rise by seven points?"

When he said those words, his tone was not excited or proud, but rather one of calm after surviving a catastrophe.

"I graduated from the Directing Department of Seoul Arts University more than ten years ago and have directed several dramas. I have never encountered anything like this before."

"The fate of a drama series wasn't saved by editing or the script, but by a scandal that I knew absolutely nothing about."

"It's only right to pay back debts." He suddenly raised his voice, "If you encounter something like this again, you can come to me."

"senior……"

"Alright, stop being so sentimental." Lee Hyung-min's tone finally softened with a smile. "Eat a few more boxes of dessert, that's the most expensive one, don't waste it."

The phone hangs up.

Lin Puzhi placed his phone on his lap, and the box of matcha ice cream next to the armrest.

The sun was already directly overhead, and the scorching August sunlight poured down, shrinking his shadow into a small black patch at his feet.

He looked down at the shadow and suddenly realized that it was a good day.

Meanwhile, in the lounge in the distance.

Park Yoochun was sitting in the center of his feng shui formation, holding a consecrated bronze Buddha statue in his hands, muttering incantations.

His assistant pushed open the door and came in, holding a glass of iced Americano that he had gotten from the food cart, and handed it to him.

"Yoochun-xi, didn't you say you wanted coffee? I brought you a cup."

Park Yoochun opened his eyes.

The moment I saw the food truck logo on the paper cup, my pupils contracted, and I bounced back half a meter as if I'd been burned.

"Take it!"

The assistant silently withdrew his hand, thinking: Here we go again.