After leaving the reception, Lin Zhu had already received a formal invitation from Marlensius’ team to participate in the scriptwriting.
The PR manager was utterly convinced and sighed faintly in the car on the way back.
“A model team member, a paragon of agent… saving the nation by a roundabout route, selling yourself first to promote your artist…”
“Say one more word and you can write it yourself.” Lin Zhu had a headache and rubbed his forehead hard. “Finishing the outline within a week… I have to go back to the set tomorrow, memorize lines, get Zhong-laoshi’s detailed materials, and edit Zhong-laoshi’s video profile…”
They were making a perfectly good film, art drawn from life yet higher than life; it wasn’t as if it had to be realistic. Why had he blurted out everything, what should’ve been said and what shouldn’t, just because he couldn’t hold his tongue for a moment?
Lin Zhu regretted it so much his head felt twice its size. He wished he could grow eight hands and type on twelve keyboards at once, calculating the schedule over and over, rubbing his forehead until it was red.
The PR manager couldn’t bear to watch. For the sake of the mouse that hadn’t even shipped yet, he had a sudden attack of kindness.
“You’re writing the outline yourself, so we can’t help with that… but we can edit the video profile?”
Lin Zhu looked up at him. “Which mouse model did you choose?”
“World of Warcraft!” the PR manager said brightly. “Dark theme, laser tracking, super cool. When you play music the lights flash along with it!”
Lin Zhu: “…”
Thinking about the straight-guy aesthetic of the entire PR department as reflected in their repeated peripheral purchases, Lin Zhu seriously worried they’d hand him a video edit that flashed along to music. He suppressed his headache and waved them off.
“I’ll do it myself. Help me book the flight.”
The PR manager’s rare moment of goodwill went unrewarded, and he felt a little disappointed.
“Want me to buy you some coffee? Rub your arms? Massage your legs—”
Lin Zhu sat up and glared at him. The PR manager shrugged and shrank back into silence.
Lin Zhu closed his eyes to adjust his mood, leaned back into the seat, and temporarily pushed the mountain of work out of his mind, slowly relaxing the nerves that had been taut all evening.
Everything really had piled up at once. So much material to prepare, so many issues to consider… and on top of that, he’d run into particularly unpleasant people.
He truly missed Zhong Yao.
Lin Zhu pressed his temple, then carefully touched his tie.
Forcing his way into someone’s subconscious like that was not a light burden on his body. He’d originally planned to properly read Song Tianlang’s as well, but he hadn’t slept well these past two days and felt it would be risky, so he’d prioritized securing the most important thing: the film resources.
Song Tianlang’s agent came from Huaying and had been in the industry for many years, specifically following Song Tianlang for the past five years. He knew not only things about Song Tianlang, but also quite a few secrets of the industry and the unsavory inside stories of Huaying back then, be it by hearsay or personal involvement.
Lin Zhu knew that what had been stuffed into his head was probably the equivalent of five years of entertainment industry gossip. When he’d flip to the page about Zhong Yao was uncertain, but he wasn’t in a hurry.
Take it slow… he’d finish reading it all eventually. At worst, he’d just dream for another ten days or half a month.
Lin Zhu had done this sort of thing before and didn’t think much of it. Just as he was about to look out the window, a thought suddenly surfaced.
“Let me ask you something.” Lin Zhu felt a slight headache and straightened up a little. “Have you… ever been in a relationship?”
PR manager: “…”
Publicity staff: “…”
Thinking of the staff members who had been crying miserably these past days, the PR manager took a deep breath and earnestly tried to persuade him.
“Lin-laoshi, you’re only 24 this year. You can’t be like Zhong-laoshi, telling people everywhere about your story with him…”
“In our line of work, there’s no such thing as love.”
The publicity staff raised his hand to add, “Lin-ge, think about it. If we had girlfriends or boyfriends, would we still be able to work overtime managing your trending topics during Mid-Autumn Festival?”
PR manager: “Would we be able to handle the PR heat for your CP forums too?”
Publicity staff: “Would we be permanently stationed on the rooftop with no one bringing us clothes, having to set up hotpot ourselves?”
PR manager: “Would we be free of worrying about Christmas gifts, while being on edge every day wondering what news you two are going to make on Christmas?”
Publicity staff: “Would we be able to face more than thirty throw pillows without our expressions changing or our hearts skipping a beat—”
“Enough, enough, forget I asked.” Lin Zhu finally couldn’t take it anymore. “I’ll think of something myself when I get back…”
These two days he hadn’t been with Zhong Yao, and he’d started sleeping poorly again, almost forgetting that when he was beside Zhong Yao he practically couldn’t dream at all, sleeping deeper each time than the last.
Lin Zhu had always relied on sleep to browse the subconscious. He wanted to avoid sleeping together with Zhong Yao for a few days, but no matter what he couldn’t bear to. Yet if they really did sleep together, and he accidentally said something in his dreams because he was “watching a live adult movie”… that would be big trouble.
Lin Zhu was troubled. As he was thinking about how to further improve his mental control so he could browse the subconscious while awake, his thoughts suddenly took a turn and he snapped back to attention.
“What do you mean, thirty body pillows?”
The PR manager looked innocent, buried his head in his phone, and said nothing. The publicist opened his mouth, whistled, and looked out the window.
“There aren’t thirty!”
Half of Lin Zhu’s face turned red. He took a deep breath and, with difficulty, found the real focus.
“No… who else knows?”
“No one, no one.” The PR manager coaxed him. “I just mentioned it casually. Don’t worry, publicists are used to exaggerating numbers. It’s an occupational disease.”
Seeing that the car had reached downstairs at Zhong Yao’s place, the PR manager jumped out and attentively opened the door for him.
“Lin-laoshi, hurry upstairs. It’s late. Get some rest early…”
He raised a hand in oath. “Don’t worry, this ends here. The two of us definitely won’t tell anyone else.”
Lin Zhu had come back together with the team, so he hadn’t had the car drop him off at his own villa. He stood numbly at the entrance of Zhong Yao’s residential complex, watching the car drive off in a cloud of dust, his vision dimming for a moment as if he were about to faint.
Out of an inexplicable sense of guilt over those body pillows, Lin Zhu didn’t dare to contact Zhong Yao on his own initiative all evening.
It wasn’t until night fell and Zhong Yao sent another video call request that Lin Zhu, with the mindset of better to die early and be done with it, finally steeled himself and accepted the call.
“You’re back home?”
Zhong Yao was wiping his face with a towel. He recognized the furnishings behind Lin Zhu at a glance and smiled as he spoke. “Have you eaten? I wanted to contact you earlier, but Director Jin confiscated my phone. We only just wrapped filming, and he just gave it back to me.”
Quite a few of Zhong Yao’s friends who were always “writing self-criticisms” had gone to the reception and witnessed the heroic sight of Zhong Yao’s little agent tearing people apart with words.
That kind of gathering was extremely closed-off, nothing leaked out at all. People outside the circle didn’t even get the chance to hear rumors and gossips, but inside the circle everyone was already stuffing themselves with melon. They didn’t dare provoke Lin Zhu, who looked anything but easy to mess with, so they all went to ask Zhong Yao instead.
Zhong Yao, naturally, was happy to tell them.
Praising his agent to everyone took too much time, so he could only seize every spare moment to reply to messages. Unfortunately, the entire day had been court scenes, with Jin Zhenbo personally supervising. In a fit of temper, the director had confiscated his phone, only returning it after filming ended.
There was a smile in Zhong Yao’s eyes as he gently teased him. “I heard our young master was especially imposing today? I really should have gone to see it myself.”
Lin Zhu was still feeling guilty. Hearing this, his face grew even hotter and he shook his head vaguely. “No…”
Talking about today would lead to talking about the reception; talking about the reception would lead to talking about his family; talking about his family would lead to talking about the wardrobe in his bedroom; and then, naturally, to what exactly was inside that wardrobe…
Perfectly logical!
Lin Zhu scared himself into a cold sweat with his own imagination and cut things off at the root in advance. “Ge, what did you film today? Were you tired?”
Zhong Yao paused, then smiled and shook his head. “Not tired. A few court scenes.”
Zhong Yao had no idea that his agent’s head was now filled with nothing but “body pillows”. Thinking Lin Zhu might be worried about family matters, he didn’t say more about today and instead told him a few interesting things that had happened on set.
“You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
Having gone two days without his agent, Zhong Yao looked calm on the surface, but inside he was a little restless. “Pick a time that’s not rushed. I’ll adjust my scenes with the crew here. No, how about I go pick you up tomorrow?”
Lin Zhu was just about to nod when he heard the latter half of the sentence and hesitated.
Zhong Yao still looked energetic, but his eyes were already red from staying up late. Whether for shaping the role or simply from the hard filming, saying he wasn’t tired was clearly just to placate him.
From the set to the airport was at least an hour’s drive. Lin Zhu couldn’t bear to let Zhong Yao tire himself out going back and forth and wanted to persuade him to rest well after filming. But Zhong Yao continued:
“The two of us are used to sleeping together. Switching to being alone, I really can’t sleep soundly. These past few days the filming schedule’s been tight, and Director Jin keeps scolding people…”
Lin Zhu: “……”
He had never had any way to deal with Film Emperor Zhong’s pitiful-selling tactics. Even knowing Zhong Yao was deliberately doing it to make him agree, Lin Zhu still felt his heart ache so badly he could barely breathe, wishing he could board a plane right then and rush back.
Seeing that he’d overdone it a bit, Zhong Yao laughed and rubbed his eyes, telling the truth. “Alright, alright. I just got soap in my eyes while washing my face. I won’t scare you anymore… Tell me when you’ve booked your flight.”
Lin Zhu was half-convinced, half-doubtful. He examined him carefully several more times before finally nodding in agreement.
Zhong Yao didn’t have anything important to do that night. Hearing from his team that Lin Zhu was likely to be extremely busy lately, he was even more concerned about his manager’s rest. He studied him carefully.
“Have you been busy these days? Do you want me to adjust my scenes? Actually, I’m not completely unable to act with Li Yijie either. It’s just an action scene. If he can’t manage, there’s always the horse…”
Lin Zhu couldn’t help laughing softly and shook his head. “No need. I’m fine.”
His ears were a little red, his lips pressed together lightly, and he said seriously, “I wanted to substitute for him myself, Ge. That scene, I like it.”
Zhong Yao hadn’t acted in costume dramas for many years. He’d debuted in costume dramas, wandered for years, and returned with acclaim; this film was meant to be a milestone. Letting someone like Li Yijie, whose skill level was only good enough for ID photos, barely manage the scene partner role would be far too much of a waste.
At the very least, when editing clips into videos, they needed to produce something beautiful and perfect.
The young agent lowered his head slightly. His expression was clear and gentle, his cheeks faintly warm, yet between his delicate brows and eyes there still lingered a trace of youthful pride that hadn’t fully faded.
Warmth spread through Zhong Yao’s eyes. He said no more and simply nodded lightly. “Alright.”
They chatted a bit more. Zhong Yao checked the time and gently urged Lin Zhu to rest.
“Bring any work back next year. I’ll keep you company while you handle it.”
Lin Zhu wasn’t sleepy yet. He stood up as told, hesitated, then braced himself and cautiously tested the waters.
“Ge… did you hear any gossip from the PR staff today?”
Zhong Yao was slightly taken aback and shook his head. “No. Did something new happen again?”
“No, no.” Lin Zhu let out a long breath and shook his head quickly. “They… I mean, they said the publicity department always exaggerates everything! If you hear anything later, make sure to divide it by ten first!”
He earnestly lectured him, going to great lengths to vaccinate him in advance.
“For example, if we say we pre-sold ten thousand pieces of clothing for Clozeya this Double Eleven, that actually means one thousand. If [No Bridge] gets fifty percent ratings, that’s really five percent…”
He hadn’t expected the publicity side to be this inflated now. Zhong Yao listened in amazement and nodded cooperatively. “Got it.”
Mission accomplished, Lin Zhu finally relaxed. He wished Zhong Yao good night and went to take a shower in high spirits.
While soaking in hot water in the bathtub, a planning staff member called him to give an objective report on today’s filming.
The crew had shot court scenes all day. Since it was another large extra-cast scene, even a small mistake meant starting over. Everyone had stood and knelt all day, exhausted.
Li Yijie’s scenes from yesterday hadn’t been filmed, so today Jin Zhenbo had kept him pressed to the side to follow the crew all day. When night filming started, he couldn’t help jumping up again to pick fights.
“He seems to have heard something. He didn’t dare provoke you, and on the surface he’s still fairly polite to Zhong-laoshi.”
The planning staff was full of pent-up anger and couldn’t help complaining to Lin Zhu.
“So there are that many disgusting tricks in filming? Deliberately not saying lines to cause NGs, slacking off when conditions aren’t good… those are one thing, but even just walking through a scene he has to make Zhong-laoshi act as his partner…”
“Doesn’t Zhong-laoshi not use body doubles? For a scene where he’s just a background board for Li Yijie, Zhong-laoshi stood inside the room practicing calligraphy the whole time. Li Yijie NG’d more than ten times! Zhong-laoshi’s waist was almost unable to hold up!”
Lin Zhu’s heart tightened. He abruptly sat up. “How is Zhong-laoshi? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Maybe—” the planning staff choked, coughed twice, “maybe he has pride, you know, most people do… And Zhong-laoshi’s waist is usually very good!”
The planning staff swore solemnly. “Although he’s tired, he’ll be fine after a little rest! No need for supplements or massages or anything!”
Lin Zhu understood perfectly, but since they still hadn’t had any scenes that actually used his waist yet, he couldn’t help laughing and crying at the same time. He rubbed his face and took a deep breath.
“I know… I’ll deal with him when I get back.”
He’d thought it would be enough just to suppress Huaying’s grand recruitment attempt of Zhong Yao, but he hadn’t expected the backlash to come from this direction. Huaying’s artists were popping out one after another, which was truly irritating.
“These people are really bored. Do they think everyone is out to get their stale bun at home?”
Lin Zhu could understand why Li Yijie, Song Tianlang, and the rest kept jumping out one after another. It was to force Zhong Yao to retreat and not enter Huaying to compete for resources. But he had no intention of tolerating it.
Having decided to kill a chicken to scare the monkeys, Lin Zhu thought for a moment, then instructed:
“Have them draft the announcement about setting up a personal studio as soon as possible. Release it at a suitable time, so that all of Huaying’s artists won’t think Zhong-laoshi is trying to snatch their slice of pie.”
The planning staff’s spirits lifted, and he hurriedly agreed.
With the serious business done, he couldn’t resist gossiping again. He lowered his voice and asked mysteriously:
“Lin-ge, I heard you have thirty-some—”
“I don’t!”
Lin Zhu knew there was no way to hide this. His head instantly throbbed as he cut him off hastily.
“You’re not allowed to talk nonsense to Zhong-laoshi! How could I have that many— No, no! W-when you spread rumors, can you at least consider basic logic? Something that big, could my wardrobe even fit thirty-some of them? I—”
“But—” the planning staff said timidly, in a small voice, “if you let some to air out… wouldn’t they fit?”
Lin Zhu choked, and his vision went black for a moment.
At the speed rumors spread and mutate, by tomorrow morning, Zhong Yao would probably have heard that… Lin Zhu has 3 life-sized inflatable dolls in his wardrobe.
T/N:
Lin Zhu: I only have a dozen body pillows!! No life-sized inflatable dolls!!! This is slander!!!!!!!!
