MACRM Chapter 103

Before dawn, the trending topic about Zhong Yao’s studio conducting a full reckoning had firmly taken the number one spot.

The evidence from back then was so solid it left no room for denial. Song Tianlang’s carefully rebuilt image collapsed almost instantly, and the shady things his manager had done were finally completed into a full chain of evidence, binding the two of them tightly together.

Song Tianlang was not Zhong Yao. Under the overwhelming wave of accusations online, he mentally broke down before he even made it out of the building.

Zhong Yao was in a hurry to go back and didn’t stay to talk much with the Marlensius team. After getting dressed and heading out, he was stopped in the lobby by a pale-faced Song Tianlang.

Looking like he’d lost his soul, Song Tianlang staggered forward and blocked his path.

Zhong Yao stopped and looked at him.

“What goes around comes around…”

Song Tianlang gave a bitter, self-mocking smile, his voice hoarse. “Three years ago… you walked away like this too, didn’t you?”

Zhong Yao didn’t answer. One of the Chinese actors nearby couldn’t hold back and sneered,

“You think you can compare yourself to him? He was framed. Were you framed too? He was forced out of the industry back then. Do you think you’re just as wronged?”

Another actor beside him scoffed coldly. “Thought you had some backbone. Turns out your methods were ruthless… don’t you feel guilty holding onto that stolen Best Actor title all these years?”

The evidence had already spread across the internet back home. These actors were all hardworking performers with little ability to defend themselves publicly, just like Zhong Yao had been back then. Seeing the truth reconstructed by netizens, they couldn’t help but feel shaken, their words sharp and unfiltered.

Song Tianlang’s face turned deathly pale as he staggered back two steps.

“I’ve already paid back what I owed you. Don’t worry, this ends here.”

Zhong Yao had already guessed why he came. He glanced at the time. “You should go. From now on, we rely on our own abilities—”

Before he could finish, Song Tianlang’s eyes suddenly reddened. He grabbed him tightly. “How am I supposed to rely on my own abilities now? Easy for you to say! What am I supposed to do?!”

His sudden movement drew the attention of nearby security, who began approaching.

“Don’t let them come over!” Song Tianlang gritted his teeth, voice hoarse, desperation bordering on madness in his eyes. “I still have dirt on you! I’ve got it in my hands! Are you really spotless?”

Zhong Yao frowned slightly and gestured calmly to those beside him. “It’s fine. I’ll speak with Mr. Song for a moment.”

Even he didn’t know what “dirt” he supposedly had, but since Song Tianlang was so confident, it was worth hearing. If there was something, he could tell Lin Zhu afterward so they could prepare in advance.

Having learned a great deal from his ever-professional agent, Zhong Yao remained composed, lowering his gaze as he waited.

“Your agent protects you because he’s your lover, right? I can tell he likes you. If he finds out you’ve been keeping someone else, what do you think will happen?”

Song Tianlang clung to this as if it were his last lifeline, breathing rapidly. “Twelve years… sending money every year, writing letters, right? The great Movie Emperor is so devoted. You think you can hide it forever? Dream on…”

Zhong Yao: “……”

He frowned. “That’s it?”

Song Tianlang froze. Seeing no panic in Zhong Yao’s expression, unease crept in. “Yo—you’re still going to claim that’s just a student you’ve been sponsoring?”

With no way out and even his own agent avoiding him, Song Tianlang lashed out desperately. “If it’s such a good deed, why hide it? Isn’t it because you’re afraid people will dig deeper and expose the truth?”

Zhong Yao fell silent for a moment.

It had nothing to do with keeping a lover… but it was true he didn’t want people investigating.

Back then, if he hadn’t wanted scrutiny, he wouldn’t have staked everything except suppressing this maliciously fabricated rumor, leaving behind this strange loose end.

He wasn’t afraid of investigation. He just didn’t want it.

“Afraid, aren’t you?” Song Tianlang stared at him, nearly unhinged. “You’re afraid I’ll expose you, drag you down with me. You just went public. If this kind of scandal comes out now, you’re finished too…”

Zhong Yao smiled faintly. “Not really.”

Song Tianlang shuddered.

“If you want to say it, go ahead. my agent will handle it. He’s good at everything.”

Now that he knew this was all Song Tianlang had, Zhong Yao relaxed and even praised Lin Zhu, fastening his collar neatly. “I’ll let him know when I get back. You can try. After all, he probably isn’t done yet.”

Eager to return home and check on Lin Zhu’s fever, Zhong Yao stepped aside and walked toward the exit. “There’s something you may have misunderstood… he’s not just my agent. He is, first and foremost, my lover. We’re going to spend our lives together.”

He glanced at Song Tianlang. “For something that lasts a lifetime, there’s nothing that can’t be said.”

Song Tianlang stared blankly as he left. The last trace of hope shattered, and he collapsed weakly to the ground.

---

At 1:00 AM Beijing time, Marlensius’s studio released a statement officially welcoming Zhong Yao into the new film production.

At 10:30 AM., Huaying Entertainment issued a formal apology on behalf of their artist, pledging stricter discipline, but made no mention of the lawsuit for defamation filed by Zhong Yao’s studio.

At 10:31 AM, Zhong Yao’s studio rejected the apology.

This time, Huaying’s usual comment-control tactics were useless. The studio’s clean, decisive response instantly turned the comment section into a sea of laughter.

After so much buildup, most people had already figured out the truth. Song Tianlang lost hundreds of thousands of followers. Overwhelmed by ridicule, he shut down comments and deleted his posts, while netizens redirected their anger toward Huaying’s official account.

Huaying had wronged too many people over the years. Caught off guard, they tried to contact Zhong Yao privately to settle things, but Lin Zhu blocked them outright.

The PR team, thoroughly enjoying themselves, even tracked down and banned over twenty Huaying burner accounts.

“You’ve been running around all afternoon, aren’t you tired?” Zhong Yao came upstairs with a plate of freshly baked cookies, ruffling Lin Zhu’s hair and gently removing the laptop from his arms.

The long-suppressed frustration in Lin Zhu’s chest had finally been released. Refreshed and energized, he shook his head and quickly snatched a cookie. “Not tired!”

Zhong Yao: “……”

He coughed lightly, sat by the bed, and handed over his phone. “Take a break. Help me clear a level.”

Zhong Yao normally didn’t shop like this. The rabbit pajamas had been suggested by the director during filming. He’d thought they were inappropriate, but the moment he got home and saw Lin Zhu curled up on the sofa, he nearly walked into the doorframe.

If not for the director physically stopping him, he might’ve carried Lin Zhu upstairs and locked the door.

Earlier, when Zhong Yao was nearly forced into coming out, the show [On the Road] had stood by him, even trying to take the blame. Though it didn’t work, they ended up gaining massive attention.

Fans were now more excited than ever for the next episode, which only increased the director’s pressure.

Originally planned as a “good friends” dynamic, it now had to be filmed like a married couple. Anything less would disappoint viewers.

That afternoon, Zhong Yao took Lin Zhu out for scheduled filming — walking around Columbia University, sitting in on classes — but the director was still worried, lingering downstairs with the crew, planning new scenes.

Zhong Yao hadn’t yet decided whether to allow cameras in at night. Holding Lin Zhu in his arms, he gently stroked his back.

Lin Zhu squinted comfortably, nuzzling into his neck. “Ge…”

Zhong Yao looked down and fed him another cookie. “Hmm?”

Lin Zhu didn’t really have anything important to say, he just wanted to call him. Smiling, he leaned against his chest, idly tapping away at a puzzle game.

Zhong Yao’s heart stirred. One glance revealed the faint blush on Lin Zhu’s cheeks.

Lin Zhu spoke vaguely while playing, “When will the filming crew leave? W-we don’t really have anything else to do next, so…”

Lin Zhu thought it over carefully, but truly couldn’t think of anything left that could stand between the two of them.

The TV drama had finished filming, the movie casting had been decided, the debts that needed to be collected had been collected, and those responsible had already received their retribution…

Even so, Lin Zhu still couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Burying himself in Zhong Yao’s chest, his heart pounding, he said, “Th-this year’s things are all done, right? We don’t have to go back, so—”

So they might as well just get everything that should be done over with in one go!

Lin Zhu inwardly cursed himself for not being as bold and straightforward as the characters in fanfiction, saying whatever came to mind without hesitation. Gritting his teeth, he was just about to speak when the door was suddenly knocked on loudly by the inspiration-struck on-site director.

Lin Zhu: “……”

All his courage deflated at once. He instantly shrank back, diving straight under the covers.

…

Zhong Yao didn’t get up.

The director outside kept knocking persistently. Lin Zhu’s heartbeat sped up slightly; unable to resist, he lifted a small corner of the blanket and peeked out.

Only to be caught red-handed by Zhong Yao, who had been waiting for exactly that.

Zhong Yao crouched by the bed, a gentle smile in his eyes, pulling back the blanket as a warm kiss fell.

“Let’s just do something proper that we’re supposed to do…” Zhong Yao rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “I know, I’m keeping track of the time.”

Lin Zhu had only just recovered, so anything too intense wasn’t suitable. Following the production crew around for filming like a half-trip, half-relaxation was just right. Once the crew left, they wouldn’t have to hold back so much anymore.

The agent had lost weight during these days in the U.S. and hadn’t yet regained it. You couldn’t tell through the thick fluffy pajamas, but Zhong Yao slipped a hand inside to check. “You still need to keep recovering. If we do anything now, I’m afraid you’ll end up with a fever for another three days…”

Lin Zhu: “……”

Lin Zhu: “!!”

The warmth of that palm pressed against him without obstruction, bringing a distinctly different sensation. Lin Zhu’s heartbeat shot up. Trying to speak, he choked on his breath and started coughing uncontrollably.

Zhong Yao had always categorized “checking his condition” as part of “doing proper things,” completely upright in mindset and not thinking in any other direction. Startled by him, he quickly pulled the manager out and held him. “What’s wrong? Is your throat uncomfortable?”

Lin Zhu’s face burned. No matter what, he refused to admit that just being touched a couple of times had already triggered a reaction. He shook his head vigorously, and after finally catching his breath, hurried to urge him, “Ge, the director is knocking— go quickly—”

Still worried about him, Zhong Yao glanced at the door but first poured him a glass of water. Only after Lin Zhu’s breathing had mostly steadied did he get up and open the door a crack. “What is it?”

The on-site director had already been scared half to death upon hearing the coughing, practically ready to flee. Seeing Zhong Yao open the door, he froze in place and stiffly turned around. “Z-Zhong-la-laoshi…”

Zhong Yao, still mild-tempered, firmly blocked the doorway. “Is there a new filming plan?”

“Yes, yes— the day after tomorrow is New Year’s in the U.S. Times Square has fireworks every New Year’s Eve. The filming results will definitely be great.”

The director nodded quickly. “If—if… Lin-laoshi’s condition allows, could you take him to watch the fireworks? It’d be even better if you could publicly show some affection or something. Fans would definitely love it…”

Lin Zhu was at a good age. After resting for a couple of days and being carefully looked after, as long as he didn’t catch a chill again or engage in anything overly intense, there wouldn’t be any issues.

Zhong Yao was tempted by the idea and nodded. “Alright, we’ll discuss it. Anything else?”

The director was very self-aware and quickly waved his hands. “No, no— I wish you and Lin-laoshi—”

An honest man, he struggled to find the words, his face turning red as he stammered, “A-a long and lasting… lasting and long…”

He gave a quick bow and ran downstairs.

It was the first time Zhong Yao had received such a blessing. Slightly dazed, he thanked him and closed the door before returning to the bed.

…

The next night, after being randomly filmed lazing in bed, lazing in bed, lazing in bed, having lunch, and even making a special trip to Broadway to recite a poem, the two guests finally left their warm residence again and drove to the crowded Times Square.

New Year’s in the U.S. was also an important holiday. Many people had already gathered in the square, chatting loudly, singing, and eagerly waiting for the arrival of the new year.

Afraid Lin Zhu might catch a chill again, Zhong Yao wrapped him up tightly and kept him close, shielding him from the wind, then found a spot with a good view.

“Ge, you said earlier you had something to tell me. What was it?” Lin Zhu tucked himself further into his scarf, leaning against Zhong Yao, lightly bouncing twice to keep warm, then remembered the conversation interrupted by filming that morning.

Once filming started, he’d have to control his weight. Since it hadn’t begun yet, Lin Zhu broke a piece of chocolate in half, ate one half himself, and quickly stuffed the other half into Zhong Yao’s mouth.

Zhong Yao raised a brow, took the chocolate, and smiled. “It’s nothing major… I just hadn’t mentioned it before, so I was afraid you didn’t know.”

It was noisy around them. Zhong Yao rubbed Lin Zhu’s head and pulled him into his arms so he could hear more clearly. “I’ve been sponsoring a student all this time. He’s a really good kid.”

Zhong Yao smiled. “Just a little child, a few years old. He’s well-behaved and adorable, kind-hearted, and especially hardworking. Probably similar to what you were like as a child.”

Lin Zhu was speechless.

He hadn’t been well-behaved or adorable at all as a child. Not only was he in a miserable state, he was full of thorns, lashing out at anyone he met… Even if his current self met that version, he wouldn’t like him at all.

Zhong Yao didn’t know what he was thinking. Still holding him, he pulled his coat open to shield him from the wind. “I don’t even know his name. He wouldn’t tell me, said he’d tell me when he grew up… I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to go to school, that such a good child would be delayed, so I kept sending money to where he lives.”

Lin Zhu remembered now and nodded. “I know. The PR manager told me before. Huaying wanted to use this as black material back then…”

He understood Zhong Yao’s intentions. Taking his hand, he looked up. “Ge, I know why you did it. A child that young can’t just be dragged out and used like that. That kind of rumor can’t be cleaned up. It would ruin his whole life.”

Zhong Yao’s heart stirred. Meeting the clear, bright light in the agent’s amber eyes, he smiled and pulled him fully into his arms.

There was nothing to explain. There’s no better feeling than being so easily understood by the person he loves. 

Resting against his neck, Lin Zhu nudged his chin, leaning on Zhong Yao’s shoulder as he curiously asked, “Ge, then why did you secretly sponsor him in the first place?”

He’d been curious about that for a while.

Zhong Yao didn’t actually need to hide it. It was only because it had never been made public that people could criticize it.

Sponsoring a student wasn’t anything shameful, so why did Zhong Yao insist on keeping it hidden?

“Because…” Zhong Yao seemed to recall something amusing. Ruffling Lin Zhu’s hair, he answered honestly, “He said that if I told anyone about him, then he’d never be ‘the number one bestfriend in the world’ with me again.”