MACRM Chapter 20

Zhong Yao declared that and returned to the bedside, unpacking his luggage to take out toiletries. He clearly meant to spend the night here.

Lin Zhu stood frozen at the door, eyes wide, stunned for a long while before he finally snapped out of it. His gaze slowly brightened, and after sneaking a glance outside, he threw away the last bits of his impression of what an agent should or shouldn’t do in social situations. Seizing the moment while Zhong Yao wasn’t looking, he boldly and quickly locked the security latch.

Zhong Yao heard the noise, glanced up with a hint of amusement in his eyes, but said nothing. He calmly shifted his gaze back and walked into the bathroom with his things.

Only when the sound of running water came from the bathroom did Lin Zhu quietly creep back to the bed and sit down.

The sound wasn’t loud, but the bathroom wasn’t soundproof, so it came through the wall clearly.

As he listened, Lin Zhu guessed what Zhong Yao might be doing inside. He couldn’t help feeling happy — hugging the pillow, he rolled twice back and forth on the bed.

They could live together again.

The bed was comfortable, and he was finally full and relaxed. That sense of security made him so content he started to feel lazy.

Lying on the bed, Lin Zhu happily dazed off for a bit. Sleepiness rose like waves, washing over him again and again.

Just a quick shut-eye wouldn’t hurt.

He propped himself up and checked that Zhong Yao wouldn’t come out right away, rubbed his eyes with a yawn, and contentedly closed his eyes.

…

When Zhong Yao came out of the bathroom, Lin Zhu was already fast asleep.

The young agent had a slender build to begin with, and curled up in bed he didn’t take up much space. Probably because he had been in such a good mood before falling asleep, the corners of his lips still held a soft, satisfied smile. There was no trace of the earlier dazed sorrow he had shown in the crowd.

With a towel draped over his shoulders, Zhong Yao stood at the foot of the bed for a while. He didn’t bother with a hairdryer, just casually toweled off his hair.

He kept thinking about the look in Lin Zhu’s eyes at that moment.

The more he was used to seeing those bright, cheerful eyes always full of laughter, the harder it was to forget that fleeting instant when they had brimmed with silent despair.

Zhong Yao didn’t know exactly what had happened to Lin Zhu. He also didn’t know what kind of comfort would truly help — but at the very least, he knew how to make Lin Zhu happy.

Lin Zhu was so easy to cheer up.

He was like a resilient bamboo sprout growing in the cracks. No matter how battered and beaten by wind and rain, as long as there was a sliver of sunlight, he would instantly straighten his back and stretch his leaves, vibrant and full of life.

Zhong Yao knew Lin Zhu had had an exhausting day. He didn’t have the heart to wake him up. He tried tugging the blanket out from under him, but couldn’t, so he went back to his own bed and fetched a spare throw to gently cover Lin Zhu.

His phone buzzed. It was Director David, on his 12th alt account that hadn’t been blocked yet, was spamming messages, urging him to quickly deliver energy bottles, and even helpfully reminding him not to forget the weekly match in Candy Crush. 

Zhong Yao didn’t reply. He sat on his own bed, set the phone aside, and looked out the window in thought.

It was easy to make Lin Zhu happy, sure.

But what could he do… to make Lin Zhu stop feeling sad?

The actor, now venturing for the first time into completely unfamiliar territory, pondered the question well into the night. He replayed the match-3 game over and over to get all three stars, and only when Lin Zhu stirred awake and clumsily bumped into something in the middle of the night did he finally turn off the screen and rest easy.

Lin Zhu, hugging Zhong Yao’s throw blanket, sat dazed on the floor for three minutes.

The blanket was probably one Zhong Yao used often. Though washed clean, it still carried that pleasant, cool cedarwood scent.

Lin Zhu couldn’t help taking a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He was so happy he nearly wanted to run laps downstairs.

Could he pretend he packed the wrong suitcase by accident…?

He rubbed his face hard, trying not to act like a cat with catnip, collected himself, and crouched by the bed to listen carefully.

Still quiet on the other side. No light either, so Zhong Yao had probably fallen asleep.

Lin Zhu breathed a sigh of relief, tiptoed off to take a shower, and after much hesitation when he came back, couldn’t bear to return the blanket. He hugged it and quietly lay down on the bed.

On the other side of the screen, the sound of breathing remained steady and calm. Listening to it, Lin Zhu’s heart slowly settled too. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, woken by his alarm, the young agent finally got to fulfill his dream of dragging his artist out of bed.

The two who had “poisoned” the crewmembers with instant noodles last night had forgotten what kind of inhumane act they had done. They washed up, went downstairs, and were rendered speechless all morning by the sight of tubs of classic braised beef instant noodles in the lounge area.

Zhong Yao, being well-traveled and experienced, said little after recalling their behavior from the night before. He pulled Lin Zhu to a table and added an extra poached egg to his bowl.

The second day, Zhong Yao picked out two more slices of thin bacon for Lin Zhu.

The third day, Zhong Yao paid out of pocket to add pickled vegetables to Lin Zhu’s meal.

……

The seventh day, the Veteran Actor Zhong Yao, who had always eaten and lived with the cast and crew since his debut, cradled a bowl of pickled cabbage & beef noodles and approached the production team to have a word.

“Didn’t you say you liked eating this? Using instant noodles to flirt with a young man? Did you enjoy sleeping together for seven days straight?” 

Filming had gone smoothly these past few days. The plot advanced in a dignified, upright manner, with not even a hint of a CP vibe between the male lead and the second male lead. The screenwriter, abandoning restraint, gleefully wrote sugar-filled “master-apprentice cult” scenes instead and threw Zhong a mocking look. “You even had us move the mahjong table back. Do you know how heavy that thing is? You’re a grown man, yet you can’t even sleep alone now…”

“Alright, enough.”

Seeing the agent bounce back in the morning, Zhong Yao quickly put a stop to the complaints. After a brief pause, he swallowed back the suggestion to switch to a different instant noodle brand, waved Lin Zhu over to sit down again, and resolved to tough it out with the crew until the end.

Lin Zhu had just stepped out to receive snacks delivered by his older brother. Behind his glasses, his bright eyes curved into a smile. He took out a corn-flavored sausage from his pocket, quickly unwrapped it, and added it to Zhong Yao’s bowl. “My Da-ge sent this. It tastes delicious…” 

“I didn’t see you when I woke up. Are you tired?”

Zhong Yao smiled as he pulled out a chair for Lin Zhu, reaching out to straighten his collar. “There isn’t much filming today. If you’re sleepy, go catch a nap. There’s nothing urgent on my side.”

He had his own room. Always squeezing into the agent’s shared standard room wasn’t really appropriate.

Originally, Zhong Yao had planned to stay a few nights with Lin Zhu and then go back. He had even tried sleeping half a night back in his room.

That night, unable to sleep from worry, the Film Emperor had come out for air, knocked on the next room with the light still on, and saw his young agent, with dark circles under his eyes, surrounded by internal documents sprawled all over the desk.

Zhong Yao didn’t say much. He returned to his room, turned on the shower, and flooded the bathroom, then grabbed his luggage and went back to the room where he’d grown emotionally attached. He stared at Lin Zhu until he put down work and climbed into bed.

Since then, the luggage hadn’t moved.

“It’s okay, I’m not sleepy.”

Lin Zhu had gone to bed early the night before and shook his head in high spirits, sipping on a milk drink. “Your current popularity is on a downward trend. We need to release a few more explosive news. The live interview has been scheduled, and I need to coordinate the script with them. Once this drama finished shooting, we’ll build our own team, then I can feel more at ease running around…”

Zhong Yao’s return hadn’t made much of a splash at first, but due to some mishaps by the company and Zheng Yi, it had unexpectedly blown up online over the past few days. That audition clip was still being discussed with great enthusiasm, widely shared under tags like “acting comparison,” “one-sided slaughter,” and “textbook-level acting.”

In the entertainment industry, what’s truly feared isn’t being slandered — it’s being unknown.

Zhong Yao’s name had suddenly surged into the spotlight. Many of his old fans, previously lost, had returned with renewed passion, and resources naturally followed.

Lin Zhu wasn’t planning to burn out Zhong Yao’s rising fame with cheap gigs. He was being very selective, rejecting small interviews and low-tier endorsements, and only accepted one livestreamed interview with good reach and reputation scheduled for the next few days.

Zhong Yao’s sudden rise to fame was a stroke of luck. He still lacked exposure, and his new appearances were so few that they could be counted on one hand. Lin Zhu remained steadfast in his high standards and demands, which led to numerous complaints from fans eager to protect her idol.

Still, Lin Zhu remained unmoved. He had his own plans in mind.

Zhong Yao still lacked enough leverage to secure truly good resources. Serious endorsements would only come after he had released successful projects and maintained steady traffic. Trustworthy and capable team members could only be recruited after that point.

Lin Zhu didn’t want Zhong Yao to cheapen himself with low-end exposure. They would wait for [No Bridge] to air and seize the moment to explode in popularity.

Zhong Yao was of the same mind — he’d rather have nothing than something of poor quality. He nodded, grabbed a bowl to scoop noodles for Lin Zhu. “Take it slow. No rush.”

Watching him so skillfully preparing the meal, Lin Zhu couldn’t help but feel guilty. “Should I buy breakfast for you tomorrow? I can get up early, no problem…”

“No need.”

Zhong Yao calmly shook his head. “Just bring back some ingredients. We’ll make breakfast ourselves from now on, then head down after we eat.”

Lin Zhu: “…”

Zhong Yao: “There might still be people waiting outside. Don’t forget to use the security latch.”

Lin Zhu swallowed, glancing back at the production team still wolfing down their noodles with an air of grim determination, and suddenly felt a strange wave of sympathy for the entire crew.

---

After breakfast, filming resumed as normal.

Lin Zhu only had sporadic scenes. Now that production was on track, it was mostly scenes between Zhong Yao and Zheng Lingyang.

Perhaps still shaken by Zhong Yao’s blunt rejection, Zheng Lingyang didn’t try anything again and on the first day even avoided eye contact with Zhong entirely. It took a harsh scolding from Director Wei before he cautiously opened up and eased into the role. But even then, there was zero chemistry between his character and Zhong Yao’s beyond revolutionary camaraderie.

Lin Zhu, acting in good faith, had attempted several times to ease tensions with Zheng Lingyang’s agent over the misunderstanding. But the other party avoided him like the plague every time. In the end, he gave up on further communication.

“Scene 47, Act 3, Take 1 — Action!”

The leafy avenue shimmered under the dazzling sun.

Today’s shoot was an outdoor scene. Zhan Yuan and the male lead Wu Qiao had, after several interactions, gradually figured out each other’s identities. They took a walk to reveal their true intentions and lay the foundation for future collaboration.

“Captain Wu, This Zhan is merely a businessman and won’t do anything unless I’m sure of it.”

Zhong Yao wore black leather gloves, lazily held a cigarette between his fingers, and his deep eyes under the fedora narrowed slightly.

Zheng Lingyang had his hands in his pockets, the brim of his cap shading his face. “Never do anything you’re not sure of? Are you content to watch the status quo remain unchanged?” 

Zhong Yao paused slightly, turning back to assess him.

“Some things — if you don’t do them now — you’ll never get the chance. Waiting will get you nowhere.”

Zheng Lingyang chuckled and raised his head confidently. “You’re a businessman, Mr. Zhan. Don’t you understand that?”

…

“Cut!”

Director Wei Geping’s frown deepened as he roared in frustration, storming up to scold Zheng Lingyang. “Where’s your energy? Don’t you understand what it means to rise to the challenge? This is a showdown scene, your words are weapons! You need to push back against him! You didn’t eat this morning or what? Where the hell is your strength?”

Zheng Lingyang had already been berated in front of everyone several times these past few days. He hung his head and apologized meekly, his face flushed red. “Sorry, Director Wei…”

Lin Zhu subtly stepped back a few paces to avoid being dragged into the outburst, but just as he moved, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen — it was a message from the company saying the new support team had arrived and could meet with Zhong Yao once he finished filming.

After several failed attempts to sabotage them, Zhong Yao’s popularity had continued to rise steadily over the past week. The company wasn’t completely brainless and had been trying to repair relations. So far, Zhong Yao had responded with polite but firm refusals.

This time, the higher-ups must’ve grown smarter. They sent the team directly without waiting for Zhong Yao’s rejection.

But the cracks were already there. Zhong Yao no longer trusted Canxing Entertainment’s people. Especially those meant to be by his side. If they turned out to be unreliable, the consequences could be severe.

Lin Zhu raised a hand to shield his eyes from the light, brightened the screen, and looked through the list. His brows furrowed slightly.

The new team included quite a few roles: assistants, driver, bodyguard, stylist, costume designer, and nutritionist. Yet many names were unfamiliar.

—And in addition to all that… the company had also assigned a new agent.