Chapter 187 Are You F*cking Under Some Kind of Spell?

The villa.

When Bai Zhi pushed the door open, she was holding a thick folder in her arms. The exhaustion and worry on her face were impossible to hide.

She opened the folder, pulled out a summary sheet, and handed it to Lu Er. “This is the current situation of all the debts.”

The table was neatly organized, but the long strings of zeros made one dizzy just looking at them.

“So far, including the compensation demanded by the company and the penalties claimed by several brands, the total comes to 23 billion.”

Lu Er tugged at the corner of his lips, forcing out a smile uglier than crying. “23 billion… I’m quite valuable, aren’t I?”

Bai Zhi’s nose stung. She quickly lowered her head. “Not everything has been terminated. Some smaller endorsements—clothing, beverages—haven’t made a move yet.”

“Sell everything under my name. How much can we gather?”

“Your personal savings, financial products, and a few properties…” She hesitated. “Including this villa, if everything is liquidated, it’ll be about 13 billion.”

She paused, her voice dropping even lower. “There’s still… 10 billion left.”

“At the rate I used to earn, how long would it take to pay it off?”

Bai Zhi calculated quickly in her head. “If you could still get projects and endorsements at your previous level… about ten years.”

Ten years.

How many decades does a person even have?

And now, his reputation was in ruins.

What major production would dare to use him?

What big brand would dare to approach him?

Bai Zhi looked at Lu Er’s silent profile, her heart aching unbearably.

She bit her lip, then took out a bank card from her bag and stuffed it into his hand.

“Brother Lu, this is my savings.”

Her voice trembled slightly. “It’s not much, just two million. I know it’s just a drop in the bucket, but at least it can cover a small part.”

Lu Er lowered his head, looking at the ordinary debit card in his hand. He could imagine how this girl, who had followed him for six years, had saved this money bit by bit.

Two million—everything she had.

He pushed the card back. “Keep it. Live well.”

“Brother Lu,” Bai Zhi said anxiously, “you’re already like this, why are you still being polite with me?”

“It’s not about politeness. It’s my choice. I’ll bear the consequences myself. There’s no reason to drag you down with me.”

Lu Er picked up his phone and began scrolling through his contacts.

The first call was to Jiang Sheng.

Jiang Sheng’s family had started in real estate before transitioning into investments—a typical rich second generation.

“Hello? Big star Lu, what brings you to call me?”

His tone was teasing, but Lu Er could hear the caution hidden beneath it.

“I need money,” Lu Er said bluntly.

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

“How much?”

“A lot. As much as you can lend.”

Another silence.

Jiang Sheng sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. Your mom… Aunt Leng called my dad.”

Lu Er’s heart sank.

“She made it very clear—anyone who dares lend you money is going against the Lu family.”

“Our family is currently negotiating a new energy project with the Lu Corporation—worth several hundred million. If I mess this up, the old man will skin me alive.”

“And she said she’ll monitor your cash flow. If a large amount leaves my side, she’ll definitely find out.”

Lu Er closed his eyes.

Leng Qinghua was blocking every possible path for him.

“What’s the most you can give?”

Jiang Sheng hesitated. “My personal account has about 80 million in liquid funds. Any more and I’ll get noticed.”

Eighty million.

Compared to a 10-billion debt, it wasn’t even a fraction.

“That’s enough,” Lu Er said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Jiang Sheng sounded irritated. “When you were successful, I didn’t help you. Now that you’ve fallen, I still can’t help much.”

“You’ve already helped a lot,” Lu Er said seriously. “Really.”

After hanging up, Lu Er called Chu Mian.

Chu Mian answered even faster, his tone urgent. “How are you? I saw the news—your mom is way too ruthless!”

“I need money,” Lu Er repeated.

“I don’t have much cash, just a few million in pocket money. But I’ve got a lot of limited-edition cars in my garage. The most expensive Bugatti cost around 100 million when I bought it.”

“And that Pagani—I’ll sell them all. Should be able to gather another 100 million.”

Lu Er felt a lump in his throat.

Those cars were Chu Mian’s prized possessions, yet he was willing to sell them just like that for him.

“Don’t sell the cars,” Lu Er said hoarsely.

Chu Mian grew anxious. “I can always buy them again. When you’re rich again, you can get me even better ones!”

Lu Er wanted to laugh, yet also felt like crying. “Don’t rush to sell them. Let me think of another way.”

“What other way could you possibly have? Your mom is trying to push you to death!”

“Honestly, go find Song Jingmo! He’s partly responsible too, isn’t he? He can’t just disappear and do nothing!”

Lu Er’s grip on the phone tightened slightly. “Jingmo, he…”

“What ‘he’?” Chu Mian cut him off. “I know you like him, but liking someone is one thing—responsibility is another.”

“You’ve already given up your family and your career for him. Now you’re drowning in debt—he can’t just hide behind you like nothing happened, right?”

“He’s a doctor. Sure, his salary isn’t high, but he should have some savings. Let him contribute!”

Lu Er fell silent.

Jiang Sheng’s voice came from the side, “Don’t take Mian’s words too harshly. He’s thinking of you.”

“If Song Jingmo really cares about you, he should step up and shoulder this with you—not let you take all the bullets alone.”

“He’s not hiding,” Lu Er said calmly. “His salary card is with me. I know exactly how much is in it.”

Chu Mian paused. “How much?”

“Twenty million. He’s just a doctor—I don’t want to put too much pressure on him.”

“Damn!”

Jiang Sheng couldn’t hold back his curse. “Are you f*cking under some kind of spell? At a time like this, you’re still worried about not pressuring him?”

“You owe 23 billion—not 230! What can a doctor’s savings even do? It’s not enough to fill the gaps!”

Lu Er held the phone, his fingertips cold.

He could hear the anger and anxiety in his friends’ voices, feel their frustration at his stubbornness.

“I appreciate your intentions. I’ll find a way to repay the money. As for Jingmo, I’ll handle it myself.”

“Handle my ass!” Jiang Sheng exploded. “Keep protecting him then—I want to see how long you can keep it up! You’re going to be dragged down by him sooner or later!”

The call was hung up roughly.

Lu Er opened his chat with Song Jingmo.

Song Jingmo: [It’s dawn. I’m at the hospital, just finished surgery. Are you okay? Call me when you’re free. I’m really worried about you.]

Lu Er didn’t reply.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

He just didn’t know how.

Tell Song Jingmo he owed 23 billion?

Aunt Qu had said before—Song Jingmo suffered from depression.

This kind of pressure… he could bear it alone.

Song Jingmo had waited for him for six years, had already given him far too much.