MACRM Chapter 108

“Rinse your mouth, hurry. There, it’s okay. Okay, okay, you’ll be fine after rinsing.”

Zhong Yao grabbed a cup and filled it with water, one hand patting his tearful agent soothingly while steadily feeding him water. “It’s my fault. This is all because of me—”

“It’s my fault.”

Lin Zhu choked on the water and coughed twice more, wiping away tears as he tried to suppress his hiccuping sobs. “I shouldn’t have hidden wasabi in the candy…”

Zhong Yao felt both heartbroken and amused. He held out for a while before finally failing to suppress a laugh, rushing to take the blame too. “Then it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have eaten it.”

He pulled Lin Zhu closer into his arms and gently rubbed his hair.

“You’d planned it perfectly in the first place. Your brother wouldn’t have kissed you after eating it anyway… alright, does it still burn badly?”

The Lin brothers shared the same deadly fear of wasabi. Lin Zhu had been happily kissing him, finally working up the courage to boldly advance, only to suddenly get hit by the spice straight in the throat. His startled wail had scared Zhong Yao so badly he’d nearly dressed and rushed him to the hospital immediately.

Then, after finally getting into the car, their tire had somehow gone flat because of one of Lin Zhu’s accidental little pranks.

Half crying from the spice and half from sheer misery, Lin Zhu buried himself in Zhong Yao’s arms and cried miserably, mentally adding another pillow to his brother’s future punishment tally.

“It’s alright. It’s okay.”

Zhong Yao had really been frightened by him. Looking at his agent sniffling and crying in his arms, his heart softened completely as he gathered him close.

“How about… we try again?”

Lin Zhu froze, unconsciously pressing his lips together.

Getting blasted away by wasabi right in the middle of a make-out session definitely wasn’t a wonderful memory. Lin Zhu had read too many weird novels lately; for one terrifying moment, he’d practically thought Zhong Yao himself tasted like wasabi now. He still couldn’t calmly return to bed.

Lowering his head, Lin Zhu secretly wiped away the last tears caused by the wasabi.

He’d been looking forward to this the whole time.

Zhong Yao had prepared so carefully too. He’d even researched things so seriously it was practically a thesis. Their first time…

Lin Zhu had seen those “100 questions for CPs” threads online before and had imagined countless times how he and Zhong Yao might answer the question “What was your first time like?” He’d never imagined it would turn into something this absurd.

He… hadn’t done well.

Sniffling softly, Lin Zhu murmured, “It’s too late, Ge. Let’s just sleep…”

He still had his eyes closed. Supporting himself casually with one hand, he tried to sit up, but couldn’t move. Confused, he opened his eyes.

Zhong Yao was still holding him, seated beside the bathtub.

His eyes were deep enough to make someone feel as if they’d fallen into a starry sky.

“We don’t necessarily have to go back.”

The bathroom lights were off, illuminated only faintly by light from outside. It wasn’t harsh on the eyes. Zhong Yao didn’t cover his eyes this time; instead, he lowered his head and kissed his agent’s forehead. “Xiao Zhu, do you know…”

Carefully unwrapping the towel around him, Zhong Yao lifted him out and settled him onto his lap, forehead resting against his.

“Things like this… can happen in other places too?”

Lin Zhu hesitated slightly before answering cautiously, “I’ve seen it happen… in offices before.”

Lin Zhu had never been able to resist being this close to Zhong Yao. His face burned hot, his thoughts already turning to mush.

“Should we go to an office? I don’t have one. Dage does, but then we’d have to go back to China first…”

Zhong Yao: “……”

Zhong Yao had absolutely no desire to do anything in Lin Song’s office. He quickly raised a hand and gently covered his agent’s eyes.

Clearing his throat softly, ears already completely red, he casually draped the towel over the doorframe and turned on the hot water.

The slightly scalding stream poured down, warmly soaking both of them through.

Holding Lin Zhu carefully, Zhong Yao lowered him into the bathtub.

“Soak for a bit first. Wait for me, I’m going to brush my teeth.”

Lin Zhu leaned against the tub, still dazed, tilting his head up to stare at him.

Zhong Yao smiled, bent down, and kissed his forehead. “We finally had our first time… how could it end just like that?”

Lin Zhu looked up at him, heart pounding together with the sound of rushing water.

……

It was already past midnight.

The moonlight rested quietly on the windowsill, seeming a little gentler than before.

Zhong Yao carried his thoroughly cleaned-up agent out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fresh towel after carefully drying him off.

Lin Zhu had no strength left at all. Half-asleep and dizzy, he obediently let Zhong Yao move him around however he wanted. “Ge…”

Even his voice had turned a little hoarse. Zhong Yao answered softly, brought over some warm water and carefully fed him a few sips, then touched his forehead. “Still uncomfortable?”

“I never…”

Lin Zhu was so sleepy he was practically swaying. His voice came out blurred, that usually bright and clear tone now mixed with a soft nasal sound. “I was never uncomfortable.”

Zhong Yao’s heart softened painfully. He gentled his movements even more, holding him against his chest while drying his hair.

No matter what, it had still been their first time. Even though he had prepped Lin Zhu for a long time, it was impossible for Lin Zhu’s backside not to feel sore at all.

Lin Zhu could endure pain far better than Zhong Yao had imagined.

That still-soft face had flushed red from holding it in. His whole body had trembled faintly, cold sweat mixing with the hot water continuously pouring over him, sliding down in streams until Zhong Yao hardly dared not ease up even more… yet Lin Zhu had never once cried out in pain.

Even at the height of it all, when the physiological reaction had briefly turned his vision into a sheet of white light, the agent — whose common sense was limited but whose imagination ran wild — had momentarily thought he’d somehow gone blind again. Even then, after things had calmed slightly, he had only slowly inched his way back into Zhong Yao’s arms and quietly asked, trying hard to hide his unease, what they would do if he really couldn’t see anymore.

Zhong Yao set down the hair dryer, lifted the drowsy agent from his chest, and gently laid him on the bed.

Wrapped in blankets carrying Zhong Yao’s scent, thoroughly satisfied in both body and mind, Lin Zhu rubbed against them twice and squinted happily. “Ge…”

Zhong Yao leaned down and gathered him into his arms. “I’m here.”

Lin Zhu shifted a little, then suddenly turned his head and kissed him once. “I remembered everything.”

His eyes curved as he smiled. After pausing groggily for a while, as though trying to figure out how to phrase it, his exhausted mind clearly failed to keep up. After a long moment, he softly repeated, “Everything… I remembered.”

Zhong Yao took a deep breath, his thumb brushing lightly across the manager’s delicate brows and eyes.

Even without mind-reading, Lin Zhu could still understand what he was thinking.

Zhong Yao didn’t bother cleaning up the complete disaster that was now the bathroom. He lay down beside him instead, forehead pressed against forehead, arms firmly wrapped around him. “Take your time remembering.”

Lin Zhu didn’t quite understand what he meant. Slightly puzzled, he struggled to force his eyes open.

Zhong Yao smiled, scraped lightly at the tip of his nose, and reached up to turn off the light. “We’ve got a whole lifetime. You won’t finish remembering it all.”

The next morning, after tossing and turning all night downstairs waiting without seeing anyone, Lin Song finally couldn’t help going upstairs to knock on the bedroom door.

The room was completely silent. No one answered. And the bedroom latch had somehow been locked from the outside.

After careful consideration, Lin Song concluded that Zhong Yao must have secretly taken his little brother away overnight to vacation at the family farm, kindly helping him escape punishment for the pillow incident.

Zhong Yao really was a good person.

Privately rejoicing that his brother hadn’t continued questioning him about the pillows, Lin Song kindly locked up the villa before leaving with his luggage, lightheartedly heading to the airport.

“He’s gone… already on the plane.”

After receiving Lin Song’s text asking him to take care of his brother, Zhong Yao finally relaxed, rubbing the agent who still couldn’t get up from the bed. “I’ll make breakfast. How exactly did the door get locked?”

Hugging a pillow, Lin Zhu rolled over, eyes shining brightly. “That’s how it works in detective novels! Tie a string to it, pull it tight, then yank the string back and it unlatches!”

The two of them had originally planned to leave today anyway. The assistant was already on holiday, the filming crew had gone ahead to England to prepare for the next phase of recording, and Lin Song was already on a flight back to China. Before leaving, he had even thoughtfully locked the front door for them.

There truly wasn’t anyone left who could open the bedroom door from the outside.

Lin Zhu, excellent at digging holes and terrible at filling them back in, still had one hand raised as he cautiously glanced at Zhong Yao.

Unable to help himself, Zhong Yao laughed and pulled him tightly back into his arms.

Warm and real, resting securely against his chest.

Lin Zhu was healthy and safe in his embrace. He could act spoiled, make trouble, stir up chaos…

And even come up with terrible ideas.

The more Zhong Yao thought about it, the more he felt this behavior deserved encouragement. He unwrapped a candy and fed it to his manager, rubbing Lin Zhu’s head. “Lie down. I’ll find a rope and climb down.”

Still worried, Lin Zhu tugged on him, wanting to help. Zhong Yao kissed him again instead, leaving him red-faced as he shrank back beneath the blankets, too embarrassed to move anymore.

Zhong Yao had spent years filming dramas and had practically climbed over every rooftop in every studio lot. After tying off a rope, he easily flipped out the window.

Outside was a garden with several fairly tall trees. Borrowing leverage from the branches a few times, Zhong Yao landed lightly on the ground.

He untied the rope and waved toward the person leaning against the window watching him, then circled back around to make Lin Zhu a lavish breakfast before finally rescuing the trapped manager from the bedroom.

Under his older brother’s strict surveillance, the youngest son of the Lin family happily took the first step toward growing into a towering bamboo.

---

Lin Song returned to China, and after another day of rest, Lin Zhu and Zhong Yao also boarded a plane home.

Back in China, the previous trending topic remained explosively popular online. The production team of [On the Road] unexpectedly found themselves carrying a heavy responsibility. After extensive discussion with Zhong Yao’s side, they carefully edited the footage and officially released the first online episode ahead of schedule.

The full behind-the-scenes footage, untouched by deliberate embellishment or emotional manipulation, ended up affecting viewers even more strongly than the heavily dramatized programs ever could.

The two of them accompanied each other quietly, peacefully, their tacit understanding flowing naturally and steadily like water.

Even viewers sitting in front of their screens could practically feel the cameraman’s endless suffering and frustration, glowing brightly with nowhere to vent it.

And then the accident happened at the moment no one expected it.

The filming crew had rushed forward to help too — some trying to break up the fight, others calling the police. The camera was still running, but it had simply been tossed onto a table and abandoned, the footage it captured fragmented and chaotic.

Yet the more raw and real the footage was, the more people could feel just how terrifying the situation had been.

The thugs had knives, iron pipes, even guns. One moment they had been grinning like fans asking for autographs, and the next their expressions turned vicious as they lunged straight for Zhong Yao’s face and body.

White men were generally taller and broader than Asians. Zhong Yao could at least hold his own somewhat, but Lin Zhu’s build was nowhere near comparable to theirs. And yet the sharp hostility in his eyes was almost tangible.

Someone had probably warned them in advance, because every attack was aimed at Zhong Yao. It wouldn’t actually have been difficult for Lin Zhu to get away unharmed, yet he only focused on protecting Zhong Yao.

If he could block it, he blocked it. If he couldn’t, he used his shoulders, his arms, anything, to shield him head-on.

If Zhong Yao hadn’t reacted fast enough and repeatedly risked himself to yank him away, Lin Zhu would have ended up with far more injuries.

No one knew how long it took before the police finally arrived and managed to stop the chaos, though in the process Lin Zhu accidentally injured his eyes.

Everything afterward unfolded plainly and directly. Zhong Yao had no attention left to spare for the cameras. He stayed glued to his agent’s side every step of the way — consultations, examinations, going home to recover, applying medicine… handling everything methodically.

Sharp-eyed viewers noticed that while the agent bravely tilted his head up and stayed perfectly still as Zhong Yao administered the intensely irritating eye drops, Zhong Yao’s hands had been trembling the entire time.

Cool and composed, restrained and steady, the award-winning actor Zhong who could calmly weather any storm… yet his hands shook so badly that it took ages just to get a single drop in, and afterward he would immediately lean down to gently blow on Lin Zhu’s eyes several times.

Lin Zhu still couldn’t see then. The stinging pain in his eyes felt like needles piercing him. Even his lips had turned pale, yet he remained completely unconcerned, joking with Zhong Yao and asking for candy.

Zhong Yao’s acting skills were far better than his agent’s. Smiling, he comforted him gently, assuring him nothing would happen, patiently feeding him candy and kisses without revealing even the slightest abnormality.

Unable to use his eyes, Lin Zhu was bored out of his mind. Before long the two of them started fooling around again without any sense of dignity. In the end, Lin Zhu surrendered completely and obediently let Zhong Yao carry him upstairs to rest.

Then the camera zoomed back in, catching the corners of Zhong Yao’s eyes, strained nearly red.

Sitting behind his office desk, Lin Song stared at the footage on the computer screen with a face dark as water.

“We confirmed it with the people there. At the time… Lin-laoshi really did shout once that they’d been hired by Huaying.”

The producer of [On the Road] personally accompanied him, cautiously speaking the truth. “But there was neither evidence nor motive. We absolutely didn’t dare air it, so we cut that part…”

A loud bang suddenly sounded beside him. The producer jumped and looked up.

Lin Song had slammed the teacup in his hand heavily onto the desk.

The producer trembled nervously. “Y-you… want that footage? We can edit it out separately for you. We still have the raw material…”

Lin Song’s chest rose and fell, but he said nothing. He waved a hand and walked to the window, opening it for some air.

Others might not know… but he and Zhong Yao both understood exactly what had happened.

Lin Zhu could see what those people were thinking, and because he had no guarantee he would escape unharmed, he shouted those words out despite knowing cameras were present.

Lin Zhu had been afraid that if something happened to him, no one would know the truth.

Grinding his teeth, anger flashed through Lin Song’s eyes.

Releasing something like this would have been deadly. The production team wasn’t wrong for cutting it, but Huaying’s move this time… hadn’t come without reason either.

Ever since Lin Zhu completely fell out with Huaying, that garbage company had been endlessly pulling tricks behind the scenes. Probably because they were wary of Lin Zhu’s background and didn’t dare oppose him directly, they kept targeting Zhong Yao instead. First Li Yijie, then Song Tianlang, mixed in with assorted drug scandals and negative media stories in between. All in all, it had all been endlessly irritating.

Lin Song had long wanted to vent some anger for his brother. He had already laid out most of the groundwork to directly buy the company.

At this point, there was no way to keep it fully hidden anymore. Someone must have leaked information and alerted those entertainment-industry gangsters.

Huaying hadn’t dared confront Lin Zhu directly. They probably instructed the thugs to only target Zhong Yao, merely intending to intimidate Lin Zhu and the forces behind him by making an example out of him.

But they had underestimated just how fiercely Lin Zhu would protect Zhong Yao, and they certainly hadn’t expected the thugs to get so carried away they forgot the client’s instructions entirely.

His fault.

Lin Song rubbed his face hard twice, forced himself to calm down, and sent several messages to his subordinates ordering them to temporarily halt the Huaying acquisition process.

Those people would stop at nothing. If they could hire attackers in America, they might hire people in England too.

Maybe they’d even bribe some farmer to throw his brother into a mud pit while he rode around on a giant pig…

That wouldn’t be worth it.

Lin Song had to admit that although Huaying’s move was shameless, it had undeniably been effective. At the very least, it left him furious while simultaneously making him afraid to act rashly.

He could fight Huaying head-on himself, but he could never ignore Lin Zhu’s safety.

He couldn’t rush things.

So Huaying could keep gasping out its miserable existence for a little while longer… at least until Lin Zhu fully recovered, came bouncing back to China happily calling him “Gege Gege,” and could have bodyguards constantly protecting him without problems.

Huaying’s leading position in the industry was already crumbling after one blow after another. Combined with the fact that Huaying’s investors had just lost a major overseas bid to the Lin family and were now desperately trying to gather funds, sooner or later they would lose patience and sell off the increasingly troubled entertainment company.

The funds had already been gathered. The trap had already been set. Once he bought the company, he’d hand it over to his brother to play with however he liked, ban whoever he wanted from the industry.

Thinking about his little brother improved Lin Song’s mood considerably. Returning to his desk, he continued watching the rest of the episode.

The audience already knew everything that had happened before. What they most wanted to know now was how the two of them were doing afterward, both physically and emotionally.

The filming crew naturally understood what viewers wanted and followed them closely in meticulous detail. The pacing relaxed again, becoming lighthearted and lively. Even though Lin Zhu still had to wear an eye mask most of the time, many viewers finally relaxed a little.

Lin Song himself had never witnessed how his brother crawled out from the shadow of his fear of darkness. Watching Zhong Yao care for Lin Zhu so attentively without letting him notice, quietly teasing him now and then to cheer him up, even Lin Song’s expression softened considerably as he lit a cigarette and exhaled.

Zhong Yao truly… took excellent care of Lin Zhu.

Better than anyone else ever had.

Lin Song often felt unwilling to accept it, but he could not deny that fact.

Every wound left on Lin Zhu by the people around him as he grew up, every emotional debt owed to him. Zhong Yao treasured them all in his heart, carefully protecting him and slowly making up for every last one.

The forty-five-minute special soon reached its end. Fully reassured, Lin Song was just about to close the page when the suddenly exploding flood of comments caught his attention.

What had excited the viewers was the final farewell footage the production team filmed outside the villa before leaving, saying goodbye to the warm and lovely little house.

Because Lin Zhu’s eyes were injured and he couldn’t review the footage himself, the team responsible for final checks never imagined there would be any issue with such harmless scenic shots. But after the episode aired, sharp-eyed viewers immediately noticed that in one shot filmed outside the villa, a faint human figure had flashed across one of the trees.

The camera faithfully recorded the timestamp. It happened exactly one hour after Lin Song’s plane had already taken off.

Experts truly existed among the masses. Curious netizens immediately downloaded the HD footage, enlarged screenshots, sharpened them repeatedly, and compared the clothing, styling, and body shape over and over, rapidly turning the entire thing from a ghost story into something completely different.

Lin Zhu had generously given the PR team a vacation. No one bothered controlling tags like #Why Is Zhong-laoshi Climbing Trees, and it happily shot straight onto the trending searches.