Li Mu’s friend? A birthday party? His own fan group?
Zhuang Qin was not thinking clearly at the moment, his eyes nearly closing as he typed slowly: “The ticket wasn’t for sale.”
Typing out just these few words tired him, so he switched to voice message: “The tickets are free, you can’t buy them in the group, I’m not too sure either. I’ll give one to your friend, I’ll ask about how to get one.”
When Li Mu heard that the tickets were free, his focus shifted: “What’s with your voice, are you sick?”
After Zhuang Qin inquired and came back, he replied, “It’s nothing, I asked, and because it’s a complimentary ticket the checks are pretty strict, it’s real-name based, we need an ID number.”
“Why does your voice sound hoarse if you’re not sick?” His voice was hoarse and tired, his nose might have been blocked, sounding nasal, overall making him seem very pitiful.
“It’s nothing, just tired…” Zhuang Qin unconsciously closed his eyes, feeling too weak to even keep them open.
That increasingly pitiful voice passed through the receiver, making Li Mu’s ears tingle. His voice was usually pleasant to hear, and this tone, whether intentional or not, made Li Mu feel a strange sensation, like ants crawling over his heart mixed with a pang of heartache.
“Go to sleep, stop chatting with me.”
Li Mu sent a voice message too.
Zhuang Qin, with his eyes closed, listened but could hardly make out anything, feeling that he was much gentler than usual, so he replied, “Then I’ll go to sleep. If your friend is a foreigner and doesn’t have an ID, he can come in directly from the backstage, I’ll send him a work pass.”
After ending the conversation with Li Mu, Zhuang Qin couldn’t fall asleep right away; he cocooned himself in the blankets, messaging from the unventilated, enclosed space, when Xiao Lian contacted him saying the team’s finances were running low.
His team, now scarcely staffed, mainly covered expenses like hiring online commenters for marketing, booking work appointments, and the costs associated with organizing the upcoming birthday party, all funded from Zhuang Qin’s personal account.
He had worked tirelessly all last year, and despite the harsh profit-sharing terms of his agency contract, he had made a fair amount, but his expenses were substantial.
For instance, organizing the birthday party meant covering costs since no admission was charged. A whole day’s rental at the Pauley Theater, gifts for over a thousand fans which required thoughtful design, each gift costing 600 but priced nearly 2000, adding up to about a million. There were also miscellaneous costs that Zhuang Qin wasn’t fully aware of.
When transferring money to the team’s account, Zhuang Qin received a text alert that reminded him of his dwindling funds.
Following the immediate effect of his gambling contract, all his work was counted towards the two hundred million target, with the contract allowing him to freely use fifty percent of it; the rest would only be available after the contract ended two years later if the gamble paid off. The payment for “The Hidden Heart” was ten million, all of which Zhuang Qin invested back into the film, transferring five million to the company’s account.
As for the other jobs he took on afterward, they were almost negligible.
He felt an increasing headache, partly because his lease was up for renewal, and with the current state of affairs with the company, he was simultaneously scouting for a new apartment, wanting to buy his own place; on the other hand, the pressure of the two hundred million gamble weighed on him, and privately he was contacting directors, looking to take on some films. Scripts with high payment didn’t appeal to him, and those with low couldn’t fill the gaping hole. Endorsements seemed the quickest solution.
Xiao Dao also said he would return to the country and had already stopped responding to messages, possibly already on a plane.
Zhuang Qin handled these mixed affairs in a daze and fell asleep exhausted.
Li Mu scrolled through his contacts, unable to find Zhuang Qin’s assistant. He didn’t bother to save numbers of people he considered unimportant.
He messaged Guo Baozhen, and from him, got Xiao Lian’s number and called.
Xiao Lian had saved Li Mu’s number from a copy given by Brother Bai but had never called.
Surprised by the call, he answered, “Mr. Li?”
“Are you with Zhuang Qin?” Li Mu asked.
“No, I’m out handling things, Brother Bai is at home.”
“He might be sick, inform his family, have someone check on him.” Li Mu had been worried ever since hearing Qiu Ming mention the two hundred million gamble a few days ago. Thinking of Zhuang Qin living alone, unattended if ill, added to his concerns.
“Ah… I didn’t know! I’ve been swamped, I’ll go right now.”
“Where’s his family?” Li Mu stood at the edge of the terrace, looking down at Qiu Ming swimming in the pool.
“They’re in the U.S.” Xiao Lian said, “He’s just been too tired these past days, it’s my negligence, thank you for the reminder!”
His family in the U.S.… Li Mu recalled Zhuang Qin mentioning visiting his mentor and mentor’s wife in Minnesota, where his uncle was starting a business.
What about his parents, also in the U.S.?
“Are you very busy?” Li Mu asked casually, “I know his family, his mentor is abroad, doesn’t he have other relatives in Imperial City?”
“They’re all abroad.” Xiao Lian wouldn’t tell him those details, keeping his mouth tight, he thanked Li Mu again for the reminder, “Because of the birthday party in a few days, there’s a lot to do, I’m heading over now to check on him.”
Li Mu: “Get a doctor over there, do you have a familiar family doctor?”
“We don’t have one… the company might have this service, I’ll ask right away!”
Li Mu: “I’ll send one over.”
Immediately, he called the airline to change his booking, notified Guo Baozhen to adjust the shooting schedule, and prepared to return home early.
Considering the unpredictable weather back home, Li Mu grabbed a jacket, putting his documents in the pocket. He took his phone and charger, as well as the birthday gift he had prepared for Zhuang Qin, and left the building.
Emerging from the pool, Qiu Ming saw him looking ready to leave: “Where are you going?”
“Back home.”
“…Back home for what?”
“None of your business,” Li Mu booked a car, “Xiao Ming, don’t go anywhere these next few days, look after the yogurt.”
“Your cat? But it poops so stinkily…” Qiu Ming grimaced, watching him rush off, “Alright… just let me know if you need help.”
Hearing this, Li Mu thought of something and asked, “Do you have the acquisition plan for Yuedong Media?”
“Yuedong Media? Sounds familiar, let me think…” Qiu Ming had recently been involved with many entertainment companies, having acquired a few, these similar names were hard to distinguish for him.
“Remember now, isn’t that Zhuang Qin’s company? I think I poached a top agent from there, but we haven’t made an acquisition plan yet, are you thinking of acquiring it? That’s not easy, given its size…”
“No rush on the acquisition plan,” Li Mu said, “First, help me check on Zhuang Qin’s contract issues.”
Li Mu headed to the airport, while Qiu Ming, reluctantly, began scooping cat poop.
Gold Coast Residential Community, 17th floor, Zhuang Qin’s home.
The doctor arrived with a medical bag, Xiao Lian led him upstairs into Brother Bai’s room.
“He has a fever.” The doctor knew at a glance, using an electric thermometer on his forehead, “It’s a low fever.”
Xiao Lian worriedly asked, “Does he need an injection… or an IV?”
“No need for now, I’ll prescribe some fever-reducing medicine, see how it goes after he takes it.” The doctor instructed, “Nothing serious, just keep the windows open for ventilation, but not directly in the wind, and be mindful of his diet, eat light, avoid raw and spicy foods…”
After instructing Xiao Lian, who noted everything down, he saw the doctor out. Xiao Lian began preparing dinner, noticing that for breakfast Zhuang Qin had only had cereal and salad.
Brother Bai wasn’t a bad cook, it’s just that whatever he made wasn’t tasty. Xiao Lian either came over to cook for him or helped him order food delivered home, but such instances were rare, as for the past year and more, Xiao Lian had been traveling around the country with him.
Li Mu’s plane landed at nine in the evening. With no luggage, he cleared customs quickly, turned on his phone, and saw messages from Qiu Ming and one from Zhuang Qin’s assistant: “Brother Bai has a low fever, he’s fine now.”
Li Mu had already arranged for his own car, the driver also being a family employee, who addressed him as “young master.”
Li is a common surname, in his hometown of Li Jiatu, the old manor passed down from old society still maintained the ancient customs and titles.
His grandfather was a businessman, his maternal grandfather a scholar, and Li Mu had grown up learning from his maternal grandfather, hence his naturally poetic and free-spirited disposition.
During the five-hour flight, Li Mu had pondered why he was so impulsive, acting without any rational reason.
Sitting in the car, he opened Qiu Ming’s messages, which included several chat records discussing Zhuang Qin’s contract issues.
The now-former insider said: “Yes, he signed when he wasn’t famous, got a Class C contract, which means a thirty-seventy revenue split with the company.”
“He gets thirty percent, the company takes seventy, and even the assistant’s salary comes out of his share.”
“When I left, I heard about the gambling thing, he was foolish to sign without any backing, likely to be devoured completely.”
“He’s not cunning at all, even people who don’t interact with him much know this.”
“Recently, there was a high-paying show, tens of millions, they approached his agent to invite him, but the upper management said no unless he brought along several newcomers from the company, after splitting the money internally, probably only left him eight hundred thousand to a million, how could he fight against those higher-ups with that? He’s not cunning at all.”
“It’s rough for him, but most artists in the company are treated the same, it’s no better elsewhere, other companies are pretty much the same. But he’s lucky, he’s got the fate to be popular, if he changes jobs his conditions could definitely improve. But that gamble is too bad, definitely going to be played to death, how could they let him just walk away with two hundred million from the contract.”
“Let’s just say, those higher-ups have a hundred ways to ruin him.”
“Whether he’s been sexually harassed I don’t know, Yuedong’s higher-ups are all sleazy middle-aged men, haven’t heard of anyone being gay.”
Qiu Ming’s poached insider from Yuedong Media revealed some of what he knew.
Perhaps not so much insider information as things many people were already aware of.
But Li Mu hadn’t known any of this before, unaware of the many troubles weighing on him.
But over the past month, he had indeed felt that Zhuang Qin was working under high pressure.
When Xiao Lian received a call from Li Mu asking him to come downstairs to open the door, he was stunned; wasn’t Li Mu in Thailand? How had he returned so suddenly?
But because he had helped call the doctor, Xiao Lian’s attitude towards him was quite good; he came downstairs to meet him, sneaking glances around, wary of paparazzi lurking.
He carefully scanned the area, and Li Mu asked what he was looking at.
“Those entertainment reporters are annoying, but since you’re a man, it’s no problem if they take photos.”
Swiping the card to enter the elevator, Li Mu asked, “Does he often have paparazzi sneaking photos here?”
“Not often… the residential security is pretty good, just that Brother Bai has some scandals, afraid they’d come snooping around.” That’s why he didn’t even dare to throw out the trash, fearing the paparazzi would rummage through it.
“Scandals?”
Li Mu clearly was out of the loop.
Xiao Lian: “Mr. Li, don’t you go online much?”
“I don’t pay much attention to these things.” Li Mu took out his phone to search, the elevator arrived, and Xiao Lian suddenly remembered something, asking: “Why did you come back to the country, how did you know Brother Bai lives here?”
Li Mu simply answered: “Had something to do, I’ve been here before.”
Been here before? When?
Xiao Lian was surprised, turning to look at him; Li Mu’s profile and Adam’s apple under the light appeared nearly perfect, almost like a handsome sculpture.
Li Mu found today’s entertainment news headlines.
#Mei Qingqiu’s New Love Interest is a Popular Young Actor?! Zhuang Qin Posts Loving Messages Late at Night#
#Twelve-Year Age Gap, Sister-Brother Romance! Zhuang Qin and His Middle-Aged Girlfriend on a Sweet Trip…#
#Netizens: Sister Mei, Share Your Beauty Secrets!#
What is all this, Li Mu couldn’t keep up with the pace of these reports, glancing at the comments full of confusing acronyms made it even more bewildering.
Xiao Lian unlocked the door, and Li Mu asked, “Are these fake?”
“Of course, they’re fake.” Xiao Lian handed him shoe covers, grinding his teeth in frustration, “Brother Bai went to the set to apologize to the director, these media just make up stories, starting with a single picture, the rest is all fabricated.”
“Apologize to the director?”
Xiao Lian realized he might have said too much and vaguely explained a couple of sentences: “Brother Bai just had some unpleasantness with that drama’s director.”
Li Mu frowned, checking downstairs to see if anyone was there, then asked, “Is he asleep? Did he take his medicine?”
“He woke up a little while ago, had some porridge, took his medicine, and then went back to sleep, there’s one more dose left though, but he’s almost fever-free now,” Xiao Lian said, “Brother Bai is resting upstairs now…”
He finished speaking and felt a bit awkward, unsure whether to take Li Mu upstairs. In terms of both emotions and reason, they couldn’t just send Mr. Li away after he specifically came to visit; after all, it was a kind gesture.
Xiao Lian thought for a moment, then said, “Shall I take you up to see him?”
Li Mu nodded, washed his hands using the open kitchen downstairs, then followed upstairs.
The last time he came, he stayed downstairs and didn’t go up, Xiao Lian walked with light steps, Li Mu also instinctively tread lightly, careful not to disturb his sleep.
The room was dark, no lights on, Xiao Lian opened the door to let him peek inside: “He’s sleeping.”
It was pitch black, nothing visible but a blanket covering someone completely.
“When did he wake up?” His voice was very low.
“About three hours ago, he woke up once,” Xiao Lian looked up at him, “Alright, Brother Bai’s fine, you’re a busy man, if you have things to do, you should go…”
His implication was asking him to leave.
“I’m not busy,” Li Mu looked into the room, “You said you have work to do, go ahead, I’ll just take a quick look and leave.”
The author has something to say:
Li Mu: You can go.
Xiao Lian: ?
Li Mu: Don’t you know what our relationship is?
Xiao Lian: ? ?
