Ah, I’ll be uploading 3 chapters for today, then everyday until chapter 23! After that, it’s on a Monday/Thursday update schedule. Enjoy~
When he came back to his senses, Lin Zhu was already sitting stiffly in the back seat, hands flat on his knees, shoulders straight, back upright, motionless.
He knew this man.
Not only did he know him, but he’d once quarreled and fought over him, registered alt accounts to boost votes, edited fan videos and retouched photos, compiled info and written countless emotional essays. Right after graduating college, he’d rushed headlong into the entertainment industry, determined to become the best agent he could be.
He even had a carefully edited close-up photo of this face, tucked away in the business card slot of his wallet… That, however, did not need to be known to the other party.
Lin Zhu sat obediently straight, but in his mind he couldn’t help but flip over and over, practically doing three and a half spins in the air, then slamming his forehead hard against the front windshield.
—He was already a well-known agent now.
Before today, Lin Zhu had imagined countless scenarios for their first meeting, and had prepared lines for all kinds of situations.
The agent who’d been at Zhong Yao’s side had been dismissed after the last scandal. He could have calmly walked up to Zhong Yao, shaken hands and greeted him, then introduced himself properly.
A rope can saw through woods, water can erode away stones. Even if he failed once, Lin Zhu had the confidence and was ready to win Zhong Yao over with unwavering sincerity.
…
And then he’d come banging on Zhong Yao’s car door, shouting “Help me!”
He’d patted Zhong Yao on the shoulder.
He’d practically melted and reassembled himself in the back seat of Zhong Yao’s car.
He’d even boasted about treating Zhong Yao to barbecue.
When his elder brother had warned him “Don’t get into untrusted people’s cars,” he really should have listened.
Lin Zhu was overwhelmed with regret.
Crushed by regret, Lin Zhu gave up on resisting entirely and simply didn’t look away, staring at Zhong Yao as if trying to memorize every second.
The hint of amusement in those eyes vanished so quickly that Lin Zhu almost thought he’d imagined it — but it still didn’t disappoint.
Zhong Yao was already strikingly handsome. When he didn’t smile, his features looked even sharper and more defined. This calm, cold, elite aura could easily make a crowd of young women clutch their chests and squeal until they were breathless.
Idols like him could only be admired from afar, never desecrated up close.
Lin Zhu took a deep breath of air, watching silently as Zhong Yao parked the car.
Beneath those strong, straight brows, the pitch-black eyes seemed to hold ice and snow… the kind of gaze that would make an ordinary person instinctively shrink back in fear.
Lin Zhu suddenly felt grateful he wasn’t an ordinary person.
He’d been Zhong Yao’s fan for eleven plus years. He knew Zhong Yao hadn’t always been like this.
The scandal three years ago had been orchestrated entirely by the agent at Zhong Yao’s side.
What was supposed to be a simple hush job — taking money to forge evidence for a rumor — had been seized on and blown out of proportion until it became a raging storm.
A tidal wave of attacks and curses, betrayal from the people closest to him. Day by day, Zhong Yao grew more silent and cold, until when he announced his withdrawal from acting, there wasn’t a trace of warmth left in his eyes.
…But now Lin Zhu could protect him.
Agent Lin, who had carved out his own place through sheer hard work, felt a growing sense of confidence, openly and boldly watching Zhong Yao.
Watching how these past three years had honed Zhong Yao into someone even sharper and more distant. Watching how the person who had once debuted so young that he needed his assistant to look after every little thing could now smoothly reverse the car, park steadily, turn off the engine, pull out the key, and turn around—
Turn around.
Lin Zhu didn’t have time to look away before he fell headfirst into those clear, deep eyes searching him through and through.
“…”
The calm Lin Zhu sat still for three whole seconds.
Then he panicked.
The moment their eyes met, his mind turned completely to mush. Not a single useful thought would come out. Lin Zhu hurriedly tried to stand up, but by the time he realized he was in a car, it was too late. His head thumped hard against the roof, but the expected pain didn’t come.
Lin Zhu raised his head.
Zhong Yao was bracing himself against the seat, one hand shielding Lin Zhu’s head from the car roof, his deep eyes quietly enveloping him.
Lin Zhu immediately sat back down at attention. “Zhong, Zhong-laoshi—”
“Come down, the car needs to be locked.”
After making sure Lin Zhu wasn’t suffering from heatstroke, Zhong Yao shifted his attention away. He lightly patted Lin Zhu’s head, then grabbed a can of cola from the car fridge and tossed it to him before stepping out through the front door himself.
Lin Zhu got out of the car hugging the cola, dazedly closed the door, and found himself standing under the cool shade of a tree.
“There are too many people out there. Wait a bit before leaving.”
Across the car, Zhong Yao squinted in the sunlight at the other end. Once he confirmed that the reporters wouldn’t spot Lin Zhu here anymore, he gave a slight nod, casually shut the car door, and walked quickly into the company building.
The young man he’d run into unexpectedly didn’t look familiar to him. Still, helping each other hide from reporters counted as one of the few ‘revolutionary friendships’ left in this circle, so there was no need to ask too many questions.
…Smooth skin, soft features — probably some new artist the company just signed.
Zhong Yao didn’t think further about it. He simply put the thought aside, quickened his pace, got into the elevator, and headed to the office he’d arranged to meet in.
Watching that tall, straight figure disappear in the distance, Lin Zhu stood frozen for half a minute before snapping back to reality. Sensation rushed back into his body, and his heart started pounding violently.
Under the shade of the leaves, cicadas shrilled even louder.
Lin Zhu jumped in place twice in frustration, then raised a hand and slapped his own cheeks hard.
So pathetic!
He’d clawed his way through this industry for a year. His reputation as a promising young agent didn’t just fall from the sky.
When fighting for resources he had to be flexible at the right time, when discussing pay he had to stand his ground inch by inch, when facing reporters he had to be quick-witted and sharp-tongued… Lin Zhu, with his baby face that looked anything but threatening, had carved out a place for himself in this industry for a year, never once the type to blush so hard he couldn’t speak.
Lin Zhu spun three circles chasing his own shadow, but still couldn’t calm down. He pulled out his phone and sent a message to his big brother.
In the Lin Corporation’s President office, President Lin’s phone buzzed.
Bamboo Shoot[mfn]his chat ID is 笋 sun. Lin Zhu’s name is 林竹，with 林 means forest, and 竹 means bamboo[/mfn]: [Gege gege gege gege gege _(┐q□q)_]
Lin Song replied instantly: [?]
There was no reply from the other end.
Holding his phone, Lin Zhu took a deep breath and looked up instinctively — Zhong Yao had already disappeared behind the glass doors.
Lin Zhu snapped back to his senses in an instant, shoved his phone into his pocket, and ran into the company building.
He really hadn’t expected to see Zhong Yao here.
But he knew exactly why Zhong Yao was here.
After a year running all over the company, he’d gotten to know quite a few people in every department. Lin Zhu grabbed a few coworkers and asked around, quickly pinpointing the target — the conference room on the fifth floor.
When Zhong Yao had chosen to withdraw from the industry back then, it was partly because he truly felt disheartened and exhausted, but partly because he was also going along with the company’s plan.
At that time, Canxing Entertainment wasn’t as prosperous as it was now. The resources it could get were limited, and once they were split among several rising newcomers, they were already stretched thin.
The higher-ups had a long talk with Zhong Yao and promised that in three years they’d fully support him again. They arranged for him to go abroad to study and rest, putting on a show of covering all his tuition and living expenses overseas.
—Because of this, Canxing had even been praised in the media for how well it cared for its artists, earning a great reputation in Zhong Yao’s fan circles too.
Lin Zhu couldn’t wait for the elevator and bounded up the stairs to the fifth floor.
Zhong Yao had debuted at eighteen, joined Canxing at twenty-one, and signed a ten-year contract with the company, with one year left until it expires.
Zhong Yao coming back at this moment clearly meant he was ending his three-year break and coming to discuss his future plans.
The conference room door was ajar. Lin Zhu crept up to it on tiptoe.
Sure enough, there were faint voices inside.
Having found his target, Lin Zhu was in no rush. He crouched outside the door hugging Zhong Yao’s cola, sipping slowly through a straw he’d just snatched from a coworker, naturally hidden in the shadows.
“…You’ve seen the company’s situation yourself. It’s never easy to survive in this industry,” one of the higher-ups in the meeting room was saying earnestly, every word weighed and heavy.
“Right now we’re pushing a few new faces, but we really don’t have much in the way of resources or manpower. The industry isn’t what it used to be. It’s shifted from acting-singing-variety all-rounders to a popularity[mfn]just a note, traffic = popularity. I’m going to use it rather interchangeably.[/mfn]-driven model. We have to cover all fronts…”
Zhong Yao sat there with an indifferent expression, lounging back on the sofa, listening to the other party’s lecture on the current state of the entertainment industry.
Although the scandal back then had already been cleared up, it still hugely affected his image and career path. With the marketing strategies at the time, it would’ve taken at least another year or two for things to settle down completely.
Going abroad to study had been his own choice, but it conveniently aligned with the company’s decision. He’d already anticipated the situation he’d be facing upon his return, so he wasn’t particularly surprised now.
The entertainment industry was the quickest to abandon the old for the new.
After being gone for so long, he basically had no fan base left. The traffic model was shallow but hugely profitable. All he could do was act well, and the benefits he could bring the company were likely far less than the popular pretty-boy idols who could rake in cash nonstop.
He’d never actually believed the promises the company had made back then.
“Zhong Yao, don’t take this the wrong way — the company has no issue with you at all, it’s just that the industry has developed so quickly that things have gone beyond what we originally expected.”
The higher-up, seeing that Zhong Yao stayed silent and starting to sweat a little. He continued in a gentle tone, “We all have to adapt to the times. It’s the era of young and handsome boys now, wouldn’t you agree?”
Zhong Yao played along. “Yes.”
In truth, after being away from this industry for three years, Zhong Yao could no longer really keep up with the current trends, nor did he fully grasp what the term “little fresh meat” really meant.
According to the company higher-ups, it basically meant “good-looking,” “has a good figure,” “has a cute persona,” and “has a crazy fan base”/
Kind of like the little guy who’d shouted “help me!” today, jumped into his car, and insisted on treating him to barbecue…?
Zhong Yao thought it over carefully. The closest thing he could associate with that description really was that figure. And thinking about it now, he didn’t actually find it unpleasant.
In fact, that unexpected encounter had done a rare bit to lift his mood. Remembering those wide, amber eyes staring straight at him, Zhong Yao even, for once, found it somewhat amusing. The corner of his lips twitched up slightly without him realizing it.
Some people just naturally had the knack for being likable.
If his throne ended up being stolen by that kitten-like little guy, it wouldn’t really be something worth being angry about.
“Vice President Li, there’s something I might not have made clear to the company.”
Seeing that the higher-up was still awkwardly trying to beat around the bush, Zhong Yao decided to end the conversation unilaterally. One hand in his pocket, he straightened up and leaned forward slightly.
“I have no objections to my own development. I only came back today to confirm the contract details.”
The executive forced a stiff smile: “No, no, no…”
“Let me finish.”
Zhong Yao cut him off in a calm voice, not interested in hearing any more empty formalities, eyes steady as he looked at him.
“I can take responsibility for my own career. The company doesn’t need to give me any resources, nor does it need to assign me an assistant or an agent—”
Halfway through his sentence, the conference room door suddenly swung open.
Zhong Yao looked over and, when he saw the figure outside the door, his brows lifted slightly in surprise.
“Zhong-laoshi.”
Lin Zhu stood there clutching the empty cola can, his face once again helplessly flushed red.
But this time, he’d made up his mind. His eyes no longer dodged, locking firmly on Zhong Yao as he marched forward awkwardly, arms and legs moving almost in sync.
“I think… you still need an agent.”
