Happy chapter 100! We’re quite close to the end now, as there is 118 chapters total (with extras).
There was a slight discrepancy from what they had expected. The on-site director couldn’t help but pause, stunned, and hesitantly scrolled down.
[So all the sugar before was fake?!]
[Panicking ◎-◎ I’ve been bragging to everyone that my ship is real.]
[What’s going on? Did they only just get together? Were they just good friends before??]
[Right, just “good friends” who hold hands while filming, stand shoulder to shoulder in interviews, wear each other’s clothes while celebrating Mid-Autumn Festival, can’t fall asleep without chatting late into the night, and plan to spend the rest of their lives together.]
[Everyone calm down, maybe those gossip accounts are just late to the news. Maybe they’ve been together for a long time and only got photographed now!]
[Having a serious identity crisis… maybe the one who’s gay isn’t them, it’s me _(┐q_q)_ Why did I always feel like they’d already come out several times…]
[Same. Questioning my life atm…]
[Questioning my life +1. I thought I’d consumed a ton of real sugar, turns out it was all xylitol. I’m devastated. I need real sugar before tonight or I’m unstanning for an hour q^q (cat paw knife.jpg)]
…
The on-site director scrolled through the comments several times, laughing helplessly. “Zhong-laoshi… your fans’ acceptance level is really… really impressive…”
Zhong Yao wasn’t surprised. He smiled slightly. “Our fans have always been good.”
What needed to be done was already done. Zhong Yao exited Weibo and continued messaging Lin Zhu.
There were many rules in the industry he didn’t fully understand. But there was at least one thing he knew better than most.
He knew exactly what it felt like to be buried under overwhelming insults and curses, unable to lift his head.
So… he would never let Lin Zhu experience that.
Zhong Yao didn’t have many methods. He could only chip away at it little by little, but so far, the results weren’t bad.
On the other end, it seemed like Lin Zhu was still on the phone with the PR staff, as his calls didn’t go through. So, Zhong Yao switched to WeChat. After sending a few messages, Lin Zhu called back almost immediately.
Zhong Yao’s eyes lit up. He gestured for the director to step outside with him and answered.
“Ge, I already know what happened.”
Lin Zhu’s voice was still hoarse, his breathing uneven. He clearly hadn’t recovered from the shock yet.
He’d seen situations like this many times and wasn’t nearly as optimistic as the director. “Right now the CP fans are controlling the comments, so the trend is still okay. But I’m worried that once regular fans react, things will blow up. We should release a statement as soon as possible…”
Even as he said it, Lin Zhu had no idea how to explain those photos.
Although they were blurry and hastily taken, but the intimacy was still obvious.
Him throwing himself into Zhong Yao’s arms. Zhong Yao wrapping him in his coat. Him nuzzling into Zhong Yao’s neck. Zhong Yao lowering his head to kiss his forehead…
Lin Zhu had woken up from sleep to those photos and broken out in a cold sweat.
Because they were overseas… he’d been too careless.
He’d been too eager, missing him too much, unable to hold back. He’d practically forgotten to watch out for paparazzi.
Lin Zhu suddenly felt unwell. Clutching his phone, he felt his heart pounded so fast he could barely speak.
“Xiao Zhu, don’t rush. Listen to me first.”
Zhong Yao had gotten into the car, his voice steady and gentle. “I’ve already drafted a statement and scheduled it. When I get back, help me review it. If there’s no problem, we’ll post it.”
Zhong Yao: “Even though they got ahead of us, we can’t let the gossip accounts dominate the narrative.”
His calm tone made Lin Zhu instinctively trust him, though with some doubt. “Ge… you wrote it?”
“Mm,” Zhong Yao replied frankly. “I was worried it might not be good. I’ll be back soon. You can polish it.”
Lin Zhu: “……”
Zhong Yao seemed to have a natural affinity with trending topics. Every time, he managed to ignite public attention in the strangest ways. The calmer he sounded, the more Lin Zhu felt something was off.
The snow outside was heavy, and night was falling. Lin Zhu didn’t dare distract him too much while he was driving, so he nervously agreed.
Zhong Yao lightly kissed the phone. “I’ll be home soon. Don’t worry.”
Lin Zhu could never resist that. His anxiety wavered for a moment, his already warm face heating up further.
He reminded Zhong Yao to drive safely and hung up.
Lin Zhu took a deep breath, propped himself up on the bed, then walked towards the window. Outside, a thin layer of snowflakes had fallen again.
Lin Zhu quietly closed his eyes and made a wish for the first time in his life.
If there really was another storm coming… Let it hit him.
Please don’t target Zhong Yao. Not again.
By the time Zhong Yao returned, it was completely dark.
He shook off the snow, took off his coat, and paused at the door. His gaze fell on the sofa by the fireplace.
Lin Zhu was curled up there under a blanket, the laptop set aside, head slightly lowered as he dozed.
“Lin-laoshi came down a while ago,” the assistant explained softly. “He’s been monitoring Weibo with the PR team. He just closed his eyes to rest. We couldn’t persuade him to go back to bed…”
Zhong Yao nodded, waited until he’d warmed up, then quietly walked over.
Sensing movement, Lin Zhu woke with a start. When he saw him, his dazed eyes lit up.
His throat still hurt. He cleared it and grabbed Zhong Yao’s sleeve. “Ge, I—”
Zhong Yao didn’t let him finish. He leaned down and kissed him, gently swallowing the rest of his words.
Lin Zhu remembered the cameras and tried to look, but Zhong Yao pulled him back into his arms, blanket and all, and carried him upstairs.
Lin Zhu’s heart skipped a beat. He instinctively looked up.
“Next time you neglect your health like this… I’ll punish you.”
Zhong Yao’s voice was so soft that it was completely free of threat. He lowered his head to check Lin Zhu’s temperature. Then, he carried the agent into the bedroom and laid him down on the bed.
The fever was worse than before, so sweating it out wasn’t an option. Zhong Yao called a doctor running a private clinic, then rolled up his sleeves. He deftly grabbed a towel, soaked it in cold water, wrung it out until it was half-dry, then put it on the agent’s burning forehead.
Everything seemed normal, but that only made Lin Zhu more uneasy. He struggled to sit up. “Ge… the leak—”
Zhong Yao smoothed the water from the towel and gently pressed him back down.
He smiled. “Do you really think I’d ruin my own career?”
Lin Zhu froze.
Stories always went like that.
Despite facing massive fan backlash, the protagonist would defied the obstacles to announce their relationship, risking everything…
But in reality, there were only a few common responses in the industry: either the studio/agency denies it to death, or they blame an unscrupulous party for releasing a fake photo, or they said it was taken out of context as it was for filming reasons.
Those who don’t want to believe it will naturally not believe it, but those die-hard fans who couldn’t accept their idols dating usually can continue to love them as long as there is an explanation.
Zhong Yao likely wouldn’t accept any of those.
Lin Zhu had already prepared himself. As long as there was a passable explanation, as long as things didn’t escalate and didn’t hurt Zhong Yao too much, that would be enough.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Zhong Yao pulled him into a firm embrace.
The actor’s grip was stronger than usual. Then, Zhong Yao leaned in and kissed Lin Zhu earnestly.
“My career was built by you,” Zhong Yao said softly. “How could I bear to throw it away?”
If Lin Zhu had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have hesitated to go public the moment he heard the news. But Lin Zhu was his agent.
verything he had now carried Lin Zhu’s effort.
He couldn’t destroy that on impulse.
Lin Zhu stared at him, eyes wide.
“I thought about just ignoring everything and announcing it outright. But then I realized… that wouldn’t work. Three-quarters of my achievements belong to you too.”
Zhong Yao ruffled Lin Zhu’s hair. “So I came back to discuss a more roundabout solution with you.”
Lin Zhu couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s no way it’s three-quarters…”
“Four-fifths.”
Zhong Yao went along with it and corrected himself smoothly, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Lin Zhu into his arms. “The signal here in the U.S. is terrible. I didn’t have internet on the way back, so I don’t know what’s happening now…”
With a feverish, sluggish mind, Lin Zhu blinked, still trying to figure out whether three-fifths or four-fifths was more, when Zhong Yao had already opened Weibo.
In just that short delay, Zhong Yao was already occupying three trending topics.
#Famous Actor Zhong’s Lover Suspected of being Exposed#
#Zhong Yao Suspected Coming Out as Gay#
#Zhong Yao Fans Mass Negative Reviews#
Lin Zhu’s heart tightened. He quickly tapped into the third trending topic and scrolled through a few pages…. only for his expression to turn oddly complicated.
[#NegativeReview# We want real sugar, or we riot >:(]
[#NegativeReview# I used to think the sugar we got was sweet, but now I know that there’s boyfriend coat-wrapping and forehead kisses happening… and I can’t see any of them??? q皿q Suddenly everything before feels bland, okay?!?!]
[#NegativeReview# The worst part is this tiny bit of high-sugar content came from paparazzi photos posted by gossip accounts…]
[#NegativeReview# Waiting for the official statement t皿t If they say it’s a misunderstanding and they were just filming, this 24-year-old me will sit on the ground and cry loudly.]
[#NegativeReview# But it looks SO MUCH like acting ahhh?? Does this kind of sweet love even exist in real life outside of idol dramas? Is this even possible with humans??]
[#I-don’t-know-why-I’m-negative-reviewing-but-everyone-else-is-so-I-am-too# Honestly… it does look like acting, or maybe they’re just too good-looking and their body language is too perfect… everything looks like acting…]
[No way, no way. Didn’t people dig up that this wasn’t in China but in New York? They just finished filming and ran to the U.S. Isn’t it for marriage registration rather than filming??]
[AHHH going to the U.S. to get married, really?!]
[Zhong-laoshi went to the U.S. and didn’t register marriage with that kid! Unacceptable! This is outrageous! Terrible! Horrible! Ahh!!!]
[This fake solo fan just got educated by videos about couple pairings, cried my eyes out and came here. What’s going on? Zhong-laoshi refuses to register marriage with his agent?!]
…
Watching firsthand how rumors snowballed, Lin Zhu felt conflicted. He rubbed his forehead and backed out, opening the other two slightly more “reliable” trending topics.
The chances of paparazzi following them all the way to the U.S. were extremely low. Whoever exposed them clearly had ill intentions. Very likely premeditated, and most probably arranged by Song Tianlang behind the scenes.
As expected, the other two topics were filled with comments that clearly looked like paid trolls stirring things up.
After watching CP fans celebrate for so long, seeing these unusually “real” malicious comments actually made Lin Zhu relax a little. He pinched his face. “Good… so this isn’t a dream.”
A soft laugh came from behind him.
Lin Zhu flushed and looked up. “Ge!”
Zhong Yao raised both hands seriously. “I didn’t laugh.”
Lin Zhu glared at him for a moment, then gave up and flopped back into his arms. “Ge… how did you turn all these fans into CP fans…”
Zhong Yao paused, then leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You did.”
Lin Zhu froze, blinking as he looked up. Zhong Yao had already taken his hand and scrolled further down.
[To those saying the agent abused his power: too bad your idol never used power to get him the best endorsements, steal the best resources, fight his bloodsucking company to terminate contracts, or argue with reporters, rivals, and TV stations for him :)]
[Even if not abuse of power, isn’t it ulterior motive? I’m a solo fan, used to have a good impression of Lin Zhu, but looking back at what he did, it suddenly feels different…]
[Different how?! Before, he treated Zhong-laoshi well because he liked him, now he hugs him and gets kissed because he likes him! I’m a single dog stuffing myself with dog food here, why are you people so annoying?!]
[Those saying it feels different, didn’t you see how Zhong-laoshi gradually became happier?]
[Agree!!!! His condition visibly improved, I still remember how exhausted he looked bowing to fans during that livestream…]
[Go watch the pinned video of the fan club. From today, solo fan club ships the CP. Lin-laoshi belongs to Zhong-laoshi. We only have one bamboo shoot. Whoever tries to take him, we’ll fight to the end.]
[Ulterior motive (: my fucking ass! When will someone treat me like this with ulterior motives? I’d marry them immediately…]
[Guys, I’m having the time of my life arguing with haters. Please don’t mention marriage and ruin my mood!!]
Lin Zhu watched the flood of fan responses, feeling almost dazed. He hesitated, then tapped on the pinned video everyone kept mentioning.
It was from Zhong Yao’s largest fan club account. It has been running for twelve years, the longest-standing one. Even during the three years when Zhong Yao had withdrawn from the industry, they had continued posting edits, images, and articles.
It was also the only fan group Lin Zhu had never instructed his team to infiltrate.
PR had suggested multiple times taking control of it once the studio was established, but Lin Zhu had never agreed.
He lowered his gaze, logged out of his own account, and slowly typed in the fan club’s login credentials.
Zhong Yao’s heart stirred slightly as he leaned closer.
Login successful.
He had been the one running this account from the very beginning.
Two years ago, after graduating, Lin Zhu handed over the account to a new management team so he could enter the industry and prepare to bring Zhong Yao back. Since Zhong Yao’s return and explosive popularity, the fan base had grown even larger.
But the password had never changed.
Lin Zhu pressed his lips together, checked backend messages, filtered out suspicious accounts likely to be banned soon, and sent screenshots to Zhong Yao. “Ge, PR needs to investigate these. If we can trace it back to Song Tianlang, this will be over…”
Zhong Yao understood. Lin Zhu was too thin-skinned to watch their own couple videos in front of him. Smiling, he nodded and stood up. “I’ll send it over and heat you some milk. Want cake?”
Lin Zhu’s face warmed. He nodded quickly.
Zhong Yao kissed his hair and went downstairs.
Lin Zhu took a quiet breath and pressed play, his heart beat slightly faster than before.
The video began with the controversy three years ago.
Against a somber, muted gray tones, Zhong Yao facing the camera, apologizing. His voice calm, his gaze cold, his entire being sharp like a blade that could hurt both others and himself.
Scenes flashed rapidly.
When he first arrived at the U.S., Zhong Yao bowed his head to sign autographs after being recognized by fans. But there was still a hint of wariness in his eyes.
At Columbia University, he got recognized and chased by fans, with no one to shield him.
Endless efforts to refute rumors, yet slander still dominating search results. The so-called “truth” remains a subject of ongoing online debate.
On the stage, Zhong Yao stood alone under the dazzling beat of light.
…
The scene suddenly shifted, the music gradually became more upbeat.
This was Zhong Yao’s first public appearance after returning.
It was Zhong Yao’s first time facing a camera then. With a smile, he spoke about his agent with a bit of awkwardness and unease.
Zhong Yao during [No Bridge] filming, repeatedly spotted by paparazzi, caught in leaked photos.
In the interview video with Zheng Lingyang, there was a blurry clip of Zhong Yao gently patting someone’s head.
Zhong Yao was stopped for a street interview, smiling as he carried mooncakes for someone.
In Tianxing TV’s [Light and Shadow], Zhong Yao proudly flaunted the cufflinks his agent gave him.
The livestream during the Mid-Autumn Festival.
The late-night Weibo replies.
The images flashed by faster and faster, finally settling on Zhong Yao’s slightly haggard figure from the beginning of the livestream earlier.
Zhong Yao bowed deeply to the camera. “I’m thirty years old. It wasn’t easy to meet someone like him… please let me keep him.”
The scene merged into another, showing Zhong Yao, now steady and radiant, standing tall in front of Canxing Entertainment building with his agent. He was facing countless cameras and microphones, but his eyes were clear, his stature upright.
Having completely emerged from that shadow, Zhong Yao, who was now climbing step by step towards the peak, tightly embraced his agent, speaking each word in complete earnest.
“I’m seriously considering spending the rest of my life with Lin-laoshi.”
Lin Zhu’s chest trembled. He gripped his phone tightly, vision blurring.
The video ended. Then, it automatically exited full-screen mode.
The text on the pinned Weibo post reappeared:
[If anyone still doesn’t understand, if you think we’re just blindly chasing celebrities, or being naive and immature, or just idolizing BL pairings… this video will answer everything you want to know.]
[We are thanking the one who came in place of God to bless him.]
