Sunlight slanted into the room, scattering pale beams across the pristine wooden desk. It shimmered on the buzzing phone, light like stained glass.
The phone rang for a long while, but its owner remained calmly seated, fingers tapping rhythmically on the tabletop. His soft pink lips curved ever so slightly, revealing a trace of allure no one else was meant to see, yet he made no move to pick up the phone.
Listening to the automated hang-up tone triggered by a prolonged unanswered call, Yu Zhi’s expression remained steady. He dialed the number again. On the third ring, someone finally answered.
No voice came through on the other end, but Yu Zhi could vividly picture how the person was listening at that very moment.
“Ji Xingyu, is this fun for you?”
Yu Zhi felt mentally drained from the other person’s audacity. His fingers twitched, the urge to smoke crossing his mind. He wasn’t a smoker, and the original owner of his body didn’t smoke either. Not even in his previous life, after decades of abstaining, had he wanted a cigarette, yet now this person’s antics made him crave one. That was how genuinely angry he was.
“Not my problem.”
Ji Xingyu held the phone casually, savoring his favorite red wine in small, deliberate sips. His tone was light and relaxed, as if oblivious to the online chaos, unaware that his manager was panicking like ants on a hot pan, rushing to figure out a solution, and completely ignorant of the dozens of reporters and paparazzi waiting nearby to snap photos of him and Yu Zhi for an exclusive scoop.
“You knew all along.”
Yu Zhi suspected that Ji Xingyu might not have directly orchestrated this, but there was no way he hadn’t known in advance. After all, before many pieces of gossip evidence were released, paparazzi usually first checked with the main subject whether they wanted to buy it back. They had to make a living; pure gossip couldn’t feed them.
Ji Xingyu had definitely received the heads-up beforehand.
Yet he didn’t stop it. On the contrary, he let it leak.
This also meant that the whole incident had been aimed at Ji Xingyu from the start. Otherwise, Yu Zhi would have received warnings.
Ji Xingyu remained silent, by his quietness, he tacitly acknowledged it.
“Do you even realize who these people are really targeting? Throwing your own career around like it’s a toy, do you think that makes you bold, or brave?”
Yu Zhi frowned. If Ji Xingyu were standing in front of him right now, he wasn’t sure he could maintain his composure.
“So what?” Ji Xingyu replied calmly. He was genuinely unafraid.
After all, he might have been constrained domestically, but outside the country, he was almost entirely unaffected.
It was just that he was gay, no crime had been committed.
The world was big enough; it could surely accommodate one gay person.
“So you’re using this as an excuse to go after me?” Yu Zhi couldn’t help asking.
He knew Ji Xingyu had international options as a safety net, but he himself wasn’t at that stage yet.
Yu Zhi knew he could deal with this scandal, but did Ji Xingyu know that too?
“You want to use them to ruin me?”—to destroy his career and make him obedient, like a caged canary?
Those words struck Ji Xingyu like a dagger. The wine in his glass lost its scent, the leisure of the moment drained away. Hastily, he said, “I didn’t mean that!”
“Then what did you mean?” Yu Zhi asked.
Ji Xingyu fell silent for a moment. His lips moved a few times, as if forming words, yet in the end, he abruptly hung up.
Hearing the busy signal on the other end, Yu Zhi’s eyebrows jumped high. Staring at the disconnected screen, a bad premonition settled in his chest.
He frowned in thought for a moment, then suddenly turned to his assistant, who was scrolling through online reactions on a phone. “Get me a car. I’m going out.”
The assistant raised his head, surprised. “Huh? Now? Brother Yu, this isn’t safe. The media and paparazzi are definitely waiting for you outside!”
“That’s exactly why I need to disguise myself, to avoid being noticed,” Yu Zhi said calmly, but his words carried an unshakable command.
Chen Yue walked in, holding a phone. “Director Zhang said they don’t know either. Maybe someone secretly took photos while you were filming.”
Normally, filming crews prohibit phones on set to prevent leaks, but there’s always a chance someone slips through. Nothing can be completely airtight.
Yu Zhi didn’t care about the source of the photos. He needed to go out now; otherwise, some careless person might cause a real disaster.
Once he announced his plan, Chen Yue frowned immediately, clearly opposed.
When he learned Yu Zhi intended to go to Ji Xingyu’s place, his disapproval deepened.
“You don’t actually like him, do you? I’m not saying it’s wrong to like him. Ji Xingyu is attractive, successful, charming, and has fans all over the world. Of course someone could like him. But can you at least consider timing? If you go to him now and get photographed, people will jump on the scandal immediately. Ji Xingyu’s career can weather it, but you’ve just started, one misstep and your future could be destroyed. Can you afford that?”
Chen Yue spoke earnestly, reasoning with him. But Yu Zhi had set his mind; no persuasion could stop him. Chen Yue could only help prepare the outfit and accessories for the outing.
Because no one issued a clarification, the photo spread wildly online. Ji Xingyu’s Weibo was a chaotic mess, and the efforts of diehard fans controlling comments barely made a dent.
Yu Zhi’s side, meanwhile, could not comment, so netizens moved to other platforms: his agent’s Weibo, the company’s Weibo, team members’ accounts, even the official 《The Chronicles of Imperial Court》 account and the actors’ accounts.
Especially when it came to Tang Chuyi, the male lead who had shown a particularly close relationship with Yu Zhi, people couldn’t even look at his Weibo. Fans clamored for Tang Chuyi to stay away from homosexuals and not befriend them, while haters sarcastically speculated: ‘Is he gay too? Did he get involved with Yu Zhi, that’s why they’re so close?’
However, their arrogance didn’t last long, they soon discovered that Tang Chuyi’s Weibo comments had also been disabled.
The haters: “…Damn!”
A sudden, ominous premonition hit them. Could it be that from now on, whenever celebrity scandals or gossip broke online, stars would follow Yu Zhi’s unorthodox example and shut down comments? Leaving haters with nowhere to vent?
Ignoring them was the ultimate counterstrike against haters.
Yu Zhi had taken this principle to its extreme.
From today on, many stars would likely follow suit. This man, single-handedly, had changed the chaotic landscape of Weibo battles in the entertainment industry. No matter how heated the external debate became, his Weibo remained calm, serene, as if untouched by the storm.
The haters were practically hopping mad, and the paid trolls lost their leverage. Internally, they cursed Yu Zhi for his unconventional ways, he was cutting off their source of income!
Meanwhile, neutral onlookers, the melon-eaters enjoying the spectacle, calmed down. Their attention shifted from gossiping about the veteran actor and the new rising star’s supposed gay rumors to laughing at the haters and trolls instead. They were thoroughly entertained.
Many people were drawn to Yu Zhi himself because of his unconventional, unflappable attitude, while his original fans patiently observed.
Somehow, even though Yu Zhi didn’t come out to clarify the situation, they instinctively felt the truth wasn’t what the rumors suggested.
In the public eye, his refusal to address the rumors didn’t look like an inability to respond. It looked like complete disinterest, a detached calmness that seemed to say, let the fans and haters dance online while I stand unshaken. It was utterly compelling.
Fans were thrilled, haters frustrated, netizens amused, and the most miserable were the paid trolls who had received their fees but couldn’t accomplish anything.
Major troll companies were calling their clients frantically. One man’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing; he was so tense he almost smashed it. Watching the online activity, he wanted nothing more than to drag Yu Zhi out and beat him.
“What kind of person is this?!” he raged. “Why can’t you even handle a rookie star who’s just emerging?!”
Of course, he didn’t care about the rookie’s well-being, he cared about the trend of public opinion online.
With Yu Zhi’s calm, measured behavior, the fans and netizens gradually cooled off. The trolls’ opportunity to stir chaos vanished. If they tried to manipulate the conversation now, anyone watching would immediately see that someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes.
Although this was something everyone tacitly understood, there was a difference between unspoken understanding and openly acknowledged knowledge.
Anyone with the inclination could investigate and discover that he was the one stirring trouble behind the scenes. If that happened, he’d be nailed to the pillar of shame, and all his efforts would go down the drain.
“Damn it!” the man cursed loudly, throwing his phone onto the sofa. His manager and assistant didn’t dare approach him, they could only wait for his anger to subside.
Originally, he had only intended to go after Ji Xingyu; the man in the leaked photo pinning Ji Xingyu in a kiss was of no concern. With his status, a mere rookie didn’t warrant a second glance. Yet now, he found himself hating both Yu Zhi and Ji Xingyu.
Still, even with that hatred, he had no way to touch either of them. All he could do was sulk and order the troll company to stop. Money didn’t grow on trees, and if nothing could be accomplished, why waste it?
Besides, the photo was real. No matter how much those two hateful people tried to clarify things, in the public eye, their image would never be truly untarnished. There were plenty who would believe rumor over fact.
“What’s that little star’s name?”
“Yu Zhi, the one in 《The Chronicles of Imperial Court》,” the assistant whispered. She had seen 《The Chronicles of Imperial Court》 herself and had liked the character of Prince Lang, making her a casual fan of Yu Zhi. Of course, she couldn’t let her boss know that.
The man sneered. “Yu Zhi, huh? Fine. I’ll remember that.”
Meanwhile, Yu Zhi, now unknowingly marked on someone’s hit list, was quietly leaving his own home. By the time he got into the car headed for Ji Xingyu’s neighborhood, his mind was restless. Something told him things would not go smoothly.
Was Ji Xingyu’s little stunt only meant to tarnish their reputations? To ruin their careers?
He doubted it was that simple.
When he stealthily left his apartment and, disguised, arrived outside Ji Xingyu’s complex, he saw countless reporters, cameras and microphones at the ready, blocking every entrance. Even though it was nighttime, none seemed willing to leave.
Judging by the crowd, they probably intended not to leave until they got their interview with Ji Xingyu.
“Should I wait here while you try to find Ji Xingyu? I don’t show up much, they probably wouldn’t recognize me,” the manager hesitated, glancing at the throng outside.
“I appear even less, let me go,” the assistant whispered.
Yu Zhi didn’t reply. Instead, he sent Ji Xingyu a message: 【I’m outside your building.】
A subtle signal: he expected Ji Xingyu to find a way to meet him; he intended to go up.
Yet after a long wait, there was no response. In that instant, he understood, it was clear that Ji Xingyu had no intention of letting him come up.
He glanced at the time, it was already eight in the evening, and night had fully fallen.
Nearly a full day had passed since the photo had leaked.
Logically, since Ji Xingyu had remained completely inactive until now, there shouldn’t be any major problems. Yet Yu Zhi’s instincts told him it wouldn’t be that simple. Ji Xingyu’s current inaction likely meant he was quietly preparing a major move.
If he waited until Ji Xingyu unleashed it, Yu Zhi wasn’t even sure he could handle it.
After thinking it over, Yu Zhi decided to have his assistant disguise themselves, moving suspiciously to deliberately draw the reporters’ attention, while he himself quietly entered the complex through the basement.
The tactic worked surprisingly well. The assistant, pretending to avoid the reporters, hurried through the crowd. A few reporters, unwilling to miss a potential scoop even if it meant misidentifying someone, immediately took the bait. They rushed toward the assistant, who feigned being caught, then slowly removed the mask once surrounded, acting like an innocent passerby caught in the chaos.
Under the cover of night, Yu Zhi slipped into the underground parking lot.
He followed a resident through the security gate and smoothly made his way to Ji Xingyu’s apartment door.
When he entered the code, a flicker of worry crossed his mind. What if Ji Xingyu had changed the password? The next moment, a beep sounded, and the door clicked open.
Inside, the lights were off, and the apartment was dimly lit. Standing at the doorway, Yu Zhi was suddenly reminded of the last time he had entered this place, and he hesitated, unsure whether he should step inside.
After a brief pause, he finally walked in.
He pressed the switch, and the room instantly lit up.
“Ji Xingyu?”
The living room was empty.
Yu Zhi searched every corner—kitchen, bathroom, balcony, bar, bedroom, study—but Ji Xingyu was nowhere to be found.
Finally, as he passed the hallway, a faint sound caught his attention. Pushing open a door, he saw the person he had been searching for lounging comfortably on a soft sofa, legs draped over the armrest, body angled toward a large screen playing something, a bag of chips in hand, slowly munching away.
Yu Zhi: “……”
Suddenly, he felt a little foolish for having worried so much while looking for him.
He rubbed his temple, observing how Ji Xingyu didn’t even bother to lift his head upon seeing him, fully realizing just how unmanageable this person could be.
After sending a quick confirmation message to his manager, Yu Zhi walked straight over to Ji Xingyu, standing directly in front of him and deliberately blocking the screen behind him.
“You’re blocking my TV,” Ji Xingyu finally glanced up, but his words were a warning, move aside and don’t disturb my viewing.
Yu Zhi ignored him. Even without looking, he could tell what was playing on the screen.
《The Chronicles of Imperial Court》 was at the moment when Crown Prince Yun Lang’s illegitimate child scandal was exposed. The plot was tense and gripping, and the music alone made one’s heart race. In this very scene and moment, it felt oddly fitting.
Their eyes met, and it was Ji Xingyu who spoke first. With a raised brow and a hand reaching for his chips, he said with a sly smile, “You already left once, so why are you back again?”
“If you didn’t want me to come back, then don’t go stirring up trouble on purpose,” Yu Zhi replied, moving closer to look at him.
Ji Xingyu reached out and grabbed the tassel decoration on Yu Zhi’s clothing. “By saying that, aren’t you basically encouraging me to stir up trouble?”
Yu Zhi: “……”
Seeing Yu Zhi’s expression of speechless exasperation, Ji Xingyu laughed, a laugh so bright and carefree it seemed to light up the room.
“I know, you don’t want to get involved with me, and I have no intention of dragging you down. It’s just that I’ve been busy and haven’t had time to respond, look how startled I’ve made you.” Ji Xingyu put on a playful, teasing grin, acting as if he hadn’t been the one earlier to stop his manager and studio from making any statement.
Of course, Yu Zhi didn’t believe him, but belief wasn’t required, he only needed Ji Xingyu to act.
He picked up the phone Ji Xingyu had set aside and handed it to him. “Send it now.”
Ji Xingyu twirled the phone in his hands. “Send what? Say we have nothing to do with each other? Do you think they’d believe that?”
Yu Zhi smiled. “I don’t need them to believe it. I only need you to show your stance.”
If Ji Xingyu indicated he wouldn’t keep stirring things up, Yu Zhi would be willing to trust him.
Ji Xingyu continued playing with the phone, but his expression shifted from casual ease to a serious, composed look. No more smiles. In a low voice, he asked, “Yu Zhi, do you really not want to be tied to me at all?”
Seeing the seriousness in Ji Xingyu’s tone, Yu Zhi responded just as seriously: “Ji Xingyu, do you really want to be tied to me?”
Such a light, casual question, yet it struck straight at Ji Xingyu’s heart.
Why hadn’t he stopped the photos from leaking? Why hadn’t he responded for so long? Wasn’t it just to let the matter ferment, to bind the name Yu Zhi to Ji Xingyu?
And yet, Yu Zhi himself had so unceremoniously shown disdain for the other’s antics. If Ji Xingyu still had any sense of pride, he shouldn’t entangle himself further.
But Ji Xingyu wasn’t someone who could be swayed so easily, otherwise, the earlier photo incident wouldn’t have happened at all.
He tugged at the corner of his lips, lifting his gaze to meet Yu Zhi’s eyes, which remained calm and unshakable, as if no matter how reckless Ji Xingyu got today, Yu Zhi would never lose his composure. His first priority was always finding a solution.
Just like back when Ji Xingyu had been foolish enough to sign that sponsoship contract with him, Yu Zhi had faced him with the same cold, controlled composure, delivering an unassailable show of authority to the newly minted benefactor.
This man is so calm and collected; it made Ji Xingyu crave, more than anything, to see him finally lose control.
For that reason alone, even provoking him was worth the risk.
He curved his lips into a faint smile, stood up, clapped his hands, and pulled out a tissue to wipe the crumbs from his fingers.
“Since Xiao Yu is asking so insistently, how could I refuse? After all… I do like you so much.”
He spoke in a languid, teasing tone, casually tossing the tissue he’d used into the trash.
He turned off the screen and then walked out of the room.
Yu Zhi followed him, frowning as he looked at Ji Xingyu. “What are you doing?” The phone was right there; did he really need to go all the way into the living room? Was there some ceremonial value in posting a clarification from there?
Ji Xingyu smiled at him. “Posting a message on the phone, who knows if it’s a person or some bot sending it? If you want to clarify seriously, it has to be done in front of everyone.”
With that, Ji Xingyu walked to the door and stepped outside.
Yu Zhi, realizing a little late what Ji Xingyu intended, quickly hurried after him. “No need to be so formal. It’s just a rumor. Once we clarify and have Director Zhang acknowledge the photos, this will be over.”
“Don’t follow me. If people see us together, they’ll misunderstand even more, think we’re still hanging out together at night.” Ji Xingyu ignored him entirely and even stopped him from coming along.
Yu Zhi’s steps faltered, and in that brief moment, Ji Xingyu had already walked out, straight into the line of sight of the reporters.
The reporters, who had been waiting all day, erupted the moment they saw Ji Xingyu. They swarmed forward like wolves starved for days and nights, eyes locked on Ji Xingyu as if he were a juicy bone, eager to devour him whole!
“Film Emperor Ji, what is your thoughts on the photos circulating online?”
“Are you actually homosexual, and what is your relationship with the rising young actor Yu Zhi?”
“Do you really have an inappropriate relationship with the newcomer Yu Zhi?”
“May I ask—”
Reporters leveled their long lenses and cameras at Ji Xingyu. Every pair of eyes seemed as bright as the flashes on their devices. Under the spotlight, Ji Xingyu’s face looked paler than usual, but his lips held a vivid crimson hue. A faint curl at the corners revealed a slightly mischievous smile.
“Quiet.”
The calm voice cut through the noise, reaching everyone present. Instantly, the crowd hushed, knowing Ji Xingyu was about to speak seriously.
“Do you really want to know what kind of relationship he and I have?”
He crossed his arms and legs, a relaxed, casual posture showing he was at ease and enjoying himself.
“It doesn’t hurt to tell you,” he added lightly, as if sharing trivial information.
The journalists perked up, ears attentive. Some pulled out notebooks and recorders, others began drafting articles on the spot, eager to capture this moment.
“I like him.”
The explosive revelation slipped from his lips as lightly as if he had said, “I like eating fruit.”
Yu Zhi, waiting for a clarification, was utterly speechless.
The reporters froze, pens and fingers suspended mid-action; the scene seemed to pause, the air momentarily thick with tension.
Then, in the next instant, chaos erupted louder than ever.
====================
