MACRM Chapter 35

Lin Zhu had never spoken in vain. Once he gave his word, whether or not the rules were ultimately changed, at least no one would be able to hound them with smear campaigns.

The Publicity Department staff finally let out most of their anxiety, but remembering Lin Zhu’s earlier vague remarks, they were terrified he’d really go pick a fight with Tianxing TV again. Over and over on the call, they stressed that if he had to fight, he should bring them along, only then hanging up with some peace of mind.

Lin Zhu put his phone away.

First it had been the group dinner, then he’d been dragged into the tea party. He’d met more people than usual today. His head was full of noisy little stage plays, and he wasn’t ready yet to return to a room full of people where every time he looked up there’d be someone.

Leaning in the corridor, Lin Zhu casually opened Weibo and quickly skimmed [Light and Shadow]’s trending topic. He noted their usual publicity tactics, then opened his contacts and sent out two text messages.

The show itself was a trap, but the blame might not truly lie with the TV station.

Nowadays, variety productions often have plenty of autonomy. Unless a blacklist explicitly forbade certain stars, the decision of whom to invite or not was usually left up to the program team.

That Resource Department Manager he’d run into earlier had been there to negotiate this very issue with the program head. Tianxing probably hadn’t even received the final list yet. Lin Zhu, without temper, clearly stated his requests and suggestions, then refrained from saying anything extra.

No sooner had the “message sent” notification disappeared than a call from PR came barreling in.

“Lin-laoshi, we heard you’re about to blow up Tianxing TV for Zhong-laoshi’s sake?!”

Having been burned once by the rumored ‘coming out’ fiasco, the PR staff had developed an excellent habit of panicking at the slightest breeze. They were deeply worried: “Do we need to spin this? Film Emperor Zhong has long been secretly suppressed by Tianxing! On variety shows they cut his mic, in interviews they gave fake scripts, even put stuff in his water! We saw with our own eyes — he held out till the program ended, then collapsed backstage, and his agent lashed out in fury—”

“Alright, alright… that’s not it. Calm the Publicity Dept down, and don’t go around telling others.”

Lin Zhu rubbed his temples, a little headache coming on. “It’s not Tianxing’s fault. They’ve… actually been good to Zhong-laoshi.”

He gripped his phone, paused briefly, then added softly, “Back then, when Zhong-laoshi decided to step away from the screen for three years, they were the ones who hosted the press conference.”

“Wasn’t that three years ago? Three years ago, I didn’t even know Tianxing TV existed.”

The PR staff was stunned. “Wasn’t Zhong-laoshi a big star then? That whole thing made waves, why hold it at such a station? No wonder I never even heard a ripple…”

Lin Zhu didn’t answer.

Tianxing’s rise had only really come in the past two years.

Three years earlier, they’d been just another lukewarm channel doing standard entertainment interviews. Even hosting a press conference meant nothing more than offering the venue, staff, and broadcast platform. Most reporters had shown up only because of Zhong Yao, representing other TV stations and media outlets.

The company’s so-called “kindness” back then was simply that, at the moment when Zhong Yao was cold and weary and determined to retreat, they arranged his press conference at a second-tier station’s small studio, as his possible farewell, or his complete exit from the entertainment circle.

…What Lin Zhu did back then wasn’t all that rational either. If the PR Department ever found out, the slightest disturbance later would probably scare them half to death.

Lin Zhu pressed his brow, quietly pulling those thoughts back. “Anyway, that’s how it is. I can communicate with them. This won’t cause trouble. You all take a proper break, enjoy the Mid-Autumn Festival. When [No Bridge] wraps, there’ll be plenty of work waiting.”

“You said the same last time!”

The more the Publicity Department trusted him, the less the PR Department did.  “You told us Zhong-laoshi was a people’s artist, upright and steadfast, diligent and hardworking, pure and spotless, that we wouldn’t even need to work overtime more than three times a year!”

Lin Zhu: “……”

Knowing he was at fault, Lin Zhu patiently listened as the PR Department Manager nagged through hundreds of reminders on how to avoid scandals.

The wrap for [No Bridge] and the recording and broadcast of Light and Shadow Battle were back-to-back, separated only by the three-day Mid-Autumn Festival. The PR Manager, terrified of another stir-up, lectured earnestly for over half an hour before finally, reluctantly, hanging up after Lin Zhu’s reassurances.

Thanks to that disruption, Lin Zhu’s already buzzing head felt even heavier. He splashed water on his face.

The wrap was approaching fast. There wasn’t much time left for Zhong Yao to spend with the crew. Lin Zhu braced himself and prepared to return to the party, to stay by Zhong Yao a while longer.

Just as he turned the corner, Lin Zhu’s steps faltered.

Zhong Yao was leaning by the door, idly playing with his phone.

He was standing at just the right distance from the restroom — not too close to overhear Lin Zhu’s voice, not too far to be out of reach. If anything unusual happened, Zhong Yao would be the first to notice and rush over.

Lin Zhu froze in place, warmth blooming faintly in his chest.

He had already noticed, probably since that time he’d overexerted himself negotiating with the team and accidentally overslept. Every time he turned around afterward, he would just happen to see Zhong Yao.

Not necessarily very close, not even necessarily watching him. Just quietly doing something at hand. Never disturbing him, never making him feel uneasy.

Subconsciously, almost imperceptibly, Zhong Yao had gathered him into that circle. Always in sight, always within reach of protection.

Lin Zhu’s eyes stung, embarrassingly hot. He rubbed them hard, then forced a smile and jogged quickly over. “All done talking?”

Zhong Yao raised a hand to steady him, smiled, and rubbed his head, then pulled out a piece of cloud cake to slip into his hand, “It’s too stuffy inside. I came out for some air.”

“All done. Leave this matter to me. You just focus on the show, on winning first place.”

Zhong Yao’s touch seemed to grow more practiced with each stroke. Lin Zhu narrowed his eyes in comfort, his long-tense nerves finally easing. He peeked into the room, now turned full karaoke bar. “They’re still going?”

“It’s rare to get a day off. They said they won’t sleep unless Director Wei does.”

Zhong Yao chuckled, his fingertips brushing Lin Zhu’s flushed eye corner, gently rubbing: “I can’t match the young people’s stamina. I’m really a little tired… come rest with me.”

Lin Zhu froze for a moment, and before he could speak, Zhong Yao had already wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him down the corridor, straight into the elevator and back to their room.

That afternoon, Wei Geping’s summons had come so suddenly that the two of them, barely adjusted to the time difference, were dragged out of the hotel and into the car. Afraid of leaving anything behind, they had casually hung up the “Do Not Disturb” sign.

The room hadn’t been tidied. A few pieces of clothing lay scattered across the bed, pillows and blankets still soft and rumpled, the curtains half drawn against the deep night outside.

Standing in the doorway, Lin Zhu suddenly felt a little dazed.

Zhong Yao switched on the lights and quickly gathered up the stray items. Seeing him still staring blankly, his brows arched slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…”

Lin Zhu shook his head and smiled. “Just— suddenly feels like home.”

They had been living here for over half a month since joining the crew, but this was the first time that, after stepping out and coming back, the room still bore traces of the two of them.

It looked… as though they had been living here together for a long time.

Maybe it was just the fatigue talking, thoughts drifting in and out without direction. Lin Zhu rubbed his eyes and moved quickly to help tidy up, but Zhong Yao gently held his arm and guided him down onto the sofa. “By the way, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Lin Zhu’s heartbeat quickened. He looked up instinctively. “What—”

“Come spend the Mid-Autumn Festival at my place? Outside… it’ll be crowded with the holiday, and travel will be inconvenient.”

Zhong Yao lowered his head slightly, his eyes briefly brushing the faint shadows under his agent’s eyes. Rarely showing a hint of unease, he gave a small cough. “The guest bed at my house is bigger than this one. Roll around as you like. You won’t fall off.”

Lin Zhu choked and broke into a fit of coughing.

Zhong Yao quickly poured him some water and patted his back, voice gentle and careful. “Keeping vigil through the Mid-Autumn Festival… that’s a tradition, right? I remember hearing something about it…”

Lin Zhu’s chest felt as though it was steeped in warm sugar water. He rubbed at his eyes, lips curving as he made something up on the spot. “Yes, you keep vigil to send off the Rabbit God, and to worship the moon.”

“…Right.” Relief flickered across Zhong Yao’s face. He nodded in agreement. “The moon’s rarely so round. We ought to stay up a little later for it.”

Lin Zhu shut his eyes, forcing back the sudden heat.

It was his first time seeing Zhong Yao this nervous.

He had seen him hold the Best Actor trophy, appear on gala stages and talk shows, unruffled in every kind of spotlight. Yet now he was earnestly, gently, awkwardly grasping for excuses.

His Zhong-laoshi…

Lin Zhu opened his eyes, drew a deep breath to press down his thoughts. But the smile on his lips couldn’t be restrained. He dove straight into Zhong Yao’s arms.

Zhong Yao hastily spread his arms, catching him fully and patting his back. “What’s the matter? If you’ve got your own plans, we can work them in, no need to follow just mine. As long as we’re back in time to send off the Rabbit God—”

There was no such thing as sending off the Rabbit God.

Lin Zhu tightened his hold, rubbed his damp lashes against Zhong Yao’s shoulder, then lifted his head. “I have no other plans.”

His entire plan was just Zhong Yao.

They sat together a moment longer before Zhong Yao smiled lightly, raising a hand to rub his hair. “Then it’s settled.”

Lin Zhu’s exhaustion was obvious. Zhong Yao wouldn’t let him fuss anymore. He changed him into something comfortable, coaxed him into bed, tucked a pillow into his arms, then tidied the room himself.

But Lin Zhu couldn’t stay idle. Slipping down whenever Zhong Yao turned his back, he trailed after him like a shadow, reporting work in snatches.

“The [Battle of Light and Shadow] has a record full of black stains. We won’t work with the production team, but directly with the TV instead. I’ll supervise to make sure they don’t pull anything shady.”

He already had a concrete schedule in mind. “My channels are fine. I’ll take one or two days between shoots to handle early negotiations. After the holiday, recording can start right away. You don’t have to worry—”

“I heard. The Publicity team says you’re going to smash up the production crew, and the PR team says you’re going to blow up the TV station.”

Zhong Yao hadn’t planned to tease him with it, but in the end couldn’t resist, coughing lightly to hide a smile. “Can’t say I feel worried at all after hearing that.”

Lin Zhu: “…”

He decided he needed to properly correct the current bad habits of their management team. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone. “I think our team really needs to recruit a few steadier hands, like planners. Once we wrap filming and have some budget left, that’ll be my priority—”

He hadn’t even glanced at his phone yet. The moment the screen lit up, a whole row of text messages jumped out.

There were urgent explanations from Tianxing, hasty messages from acquaintances warning him against taking [Battle of Light and Shadow]. Two from his elder brother, saying he was coming in a few days and had already selected several top-notch business assistants — just for errands, available on call, and would never appear in front of Zhong Yao for more than a minute.

Lin Zhu was speechless, about to reply to his brother when a planner’s message popped up at the top of the screen:

[Planner: Lin-laoshi, I heard you’re so furious on Zhong-laoshi’s behalf that you’re about to buy out Tianxing TV?!?]