MACRM Chapter 112

Zhong Yao kept Lin Zhu firmly wrapped in his arms. There were still many questions he hadn’t figured out, many things he wanted to ask, many parts of the past he wanted to understand clearly. 

But he simply couldn’t spare the attention. His mind was full of Lin Zhu.

The Lin Zhu from twelve years ago, and the Lin Zhu from twelve years later.

How had he accidentally lost his little kid?

Lin Zhu hated showing weakness in front of others. He stood stiffly in Zhong Yao’s embrace, every tremor hidden beneath shoulders and back drawn so tight they seemed almost sharp, desperately tilting his head back to hold in the moisture gathering in his eyes.

Keeping him close, Zhong Yao shifted slightly and blocked the curious and concerned gazes coming from all directions. The frail, thin boy from his memories and the agent who could now fight for resources, protect him, and bully people on his behalf were clearly nothing alike anymore. And yet, in that fleeting moment just now, he seemed to see that battered child again in Lin Zhu’s eyes.

Lowering his head, Zhong Yao gently kissed Lin Zhu’s forehead and the corners of his eyes, kissing away the tears his agent couldn’t control and had been forcing back.

Only when Lin Zhu had completely calmed down, when his body gradually relaxed and softened, did Zhong Yao take his hand and leave the set. On the way back, Lin Zhu kept waiting for Zhong Yao to ask him questions, but Zhong Yao never spoke.

The warm pressure against his temples remained steady, patiently massaging away the dizziness and headache brought on by overwhelming emotions. Unable to sit still, Lin Zhu pushed himself upright, intending to talk to Zhong Yao. Then, he happened to glance at the screen of the phone in Zhong Yao’s hand.

A sharp ache suddenly pierced his chest.

Zhong Yao was carefully reading through all the documents and evidence.

He was reading them meticulously, opening every image and examining every word. Even the attached photographs were enlarged to the maximum as he tried to make out vague shapes hidden beneath layers of mosaic censorship.

Lin Zhu grabbed his wrist, voice slightly hoarse. “Ge…” 

If all these years of unfortunate misunderstandings felt regrettable to him, then for Zhong Yao, all those years of sincerity, concern, hopes, and blessings had truly come to nothing.

He didn’t dare look at how much pain Zhong Yao might be in right now. All he could do was gently take the phone away and wrap his arms around Zhong Yao’s shoulders, pressing himself against his chest. 

“I have to look…”

Lin Zhu felt Zhong Yao’s heartbeat was just as fast as his. His heavy breaths brushed against Lin Zhu’s ear. His voice remained gentle and calm, but his arms trembled uncontrollably. “I need to see… how much we missed all these years. We’ll make it up. We’ll make all of it up…”

Lin Zhu couldn’t bear hearing any more. Closing his eyes, he fumbled forward and kissed him.

Zhong Yao’s chest tightened slightly. The touch that pressed against him was cool and soft.

Though Lin Zhu himself was still trembling, there was unmistakable determination in the gesture.

Closing his eyes, Zhong Yao lowered his head and kissed him back. He could have had the chance… Perhaps, during those fragmented years of Lin Zhu’s youth, he could have added a little brightness. If they had received each other’s second letters, perhaps he could have comforted that frightened, helpless child on the other side.

Perhaps one day he would have visited Lin Zhu, and intervened. Or maybe he would even have been unable to resist taking young Lin Zhu by the hand and leading him far away from that nightmare. Because of one person’s greed and selfishness, none of that could ever happen now.

Zhong Yao was not someone who wallowed in pain. He had always preferred treating others with kindness. But this time, he truly couldn’t help himself.

His arms tightened slightly. “That orphanage—”

“It probably vanished from the face of the earth already.” A little breathless from the kiss, Lin Zhu lay against him and muttered through a stuffy nose. “I wanted to tear it down myself too. But considering Dage was the one who went there… it’d be hard enough for him to remember to leave a wall for me to demolish.”

Zhong Yao choked on the response and lowered his head. After a long moment, he closed his eyes helplessly and let out a soft laugh.

Seeing him finally smile, Lin Zhu’s eyes brightened as well. He climbed upright and tilted his head up. “Ge, let’s post some sugar on Weibo, okay? They’ve been crying nonstop. Even I’m getting upset watching them…”

Lin Zhu had loved Zhong Yao for more than ten years. He knew exactly what it felt like to genuinely hurt on someone else’s behalf.

Fans and idols were separated by too great a distance, so it’s inevitable they couldn’t help or say much. They couldn’t bandage wounds, or be physically here to pat their back until they smiled again.

It was the loneliest and most powerless kind of distance.

Lin Zhu had been able to gradually draw closer to Zhong Yao through his family background and his own abilities.

He had finally managed to stand at Zhong Yao’s side, but countless fans still couldn’t. Yet they had continued paying attention to him and believing in him all the same. Even now, Lin Zhu still recognized many familiar usernames among the replies.

Being loved was both a blessing and a luxury.

Resting against Zhong Yao’s arm, his eyes clear and bright, his ears gradually turning red, Lin Zhu spoke hesitantly. “Maybe… maybe we should start preparing in advance for registering our marriage? That should make everyone happy…”

Being a fan should be something joyful.

Meeting the bright anticipation in Lin Zhu’s eyes, Zhong Yao felt endless tenderness and heartache well up inside him. He nodded gently.

Then something suddenly occurred to him. Lowering his head, he asked for confirmation. “So that means I’m still your—”

Lin Zhu: “…”

Before Zhong Yao could finish the sentence, Lin Zhu promptly covered his mouth.

Then he hurriedly unwrapped a piece of candy and held it between his teeth.

The little tyrant who had once been unbeatable throughout the orphanage blushed bright red. Like someone marching bravely to his death, trembling all over, he leaned forward and shared half of the milk candy with his world’s number one best friend.

---

At 8 AM Beijing time, Zhong Yao’s studio posted a new Weibo update.

There wasn’t any special caption, just a simple photo of two hands clasped together.

The background appeared to be the sheets of a five-star hotel. The lighting was probably nothing more than a bedside lamp. Everything about it looked utterly ordinary, except for one thing: on the ring fingers of both hands were matching rings.

The comment section, which had finally quieted down after an all-night vigil and the gradual arrival of sleepiness, exploded once again without the slightest suspense.

“It’s so pretty, and the size fits perfectly…” 

Lying on the bed, Lin Zhu was still absurdly happy because of the ring. He kept taking it off, cradling it in his palm for careful inspection, then running back over to bother Zhong Yao.

“Ge, when did you buy it? I didn’t even know…”

At the moment, Zhong Yao was frantically dealing with simultaneous scoldings from both his own older brother and Lin Zhu’s older brother regarding the question: “How can you wear rings on your ring fingers before you’ve even registered the marriage?”

After finally surviving the combined bombardment, he looked up and saw his lover happily running toward him.

 Suddenly, everything felt worthwhile. 

Looking at the bright smile Lin Zhu couldn’t hide, warmth spread through Zhong Yao’s chest. He reached out and pulled him into his arms. “I bought them while we were still at home. Originally I wanted to surprise you when we registered our marriage…”

He lowered his head and kissed Lin Zhu. A smile reflected in his eyes.

“I’ll give you something else then. Do you like it?”

Lin Zhu nodded vigorously. “I love it!”

Anything Zhong Yao gave him would make him happy, not to mention something with this much meaning.

Lin Zhu had no particular taste when it came to rings. The one Zhong Yao chose wasn’t flashy either — just a simple band engraved with their initials on the inside. There wasn’t anything especially novel or creative about it. Yet Lin Zhu firmly believed his ring was the most beautiful ring in the world.

Agent Lin, who firmly believed his ring was the best-looking ring in existence, even gave the team a detailed explanation of the ring’s brand, price, and design concept before handing over the photo for the Weibo post.

Just in case antis tried questioning whether the ring was real.

The PR and publicity staff, who were still grieving over those twelve years of missed opportunities, listened with completely numb expressions. At that moment, they no longer felt any desire to be sad for the couple.

Holding the ring carefully in his hands, Lin Zhu wiped it over and over again, unable to stop loving it.

Watching him, a quiet ache passed through Zhong Yao’s heart. Ever since coming back, they had been busy discussing ways to show affection and cheer up the comment section.

After posting on Weibo, they were immediately scolded by their respective older brothers.

Even now, they still hadn’t had the chance to properly talk about what had happened all those years ago.

Zhong Yao didn’t know whether Lin Zhu was ready to discuss it, nor did he know whether he himself was ready.

The night in New York had grown very deep. Outside, everything gradually quieted. The warm bedside light softly illuminated the elegant lines of his agent’s face.

After checking the time, Zhong Yao decided it would be better to let Lin Zhu rest first. Whatever needed discussing could wait until tomorrow.

Lin Zhu was still playing with the ring when Zhong Yao suddenly scooped him up into his arms. Caught completely off guard, he jumped and grabbed onto Zhong Yao’s shoulders. “Ge—”

“Are you tired?” Zhong Yao pinched the back of his neck, gently set him down on the bed, and sat down beside him. “It’s getting late. The team back home is keeping an eye on things… why don’t we get some sleep first?”

Lin Zhu actually wasn’t tired at all. He was so energized by the ring that he could hardly sit still. But thinking about how hard Zhong Yao had worked filming all day, he immediately sprang into action, straightening the bed and pulling Zhong Yao down with him.

“Quick, quick, let’s sleep first. You need proper rest…”

Allowing himself to be tugged down, Zhong Yao watched Lin Zhu bustle around making the bed. Cooperatively closing his eyes, he obediently let his agent take care of him for once.

The movements beside him were light and meticulous. Patting the pillow flat, tucking in the blanket, and finally, padding off to turn off the lights. Then feeling his way back through the darkness, slipping under the covers, expertly burrowing into his arms and rubbing twice against his neck.

Lying steadily on the bed with his agent in his embrace, the chaotic thoughts that had occupied Zhong Yao all evening finally began to settle into a clear shape. Not wanting to alarm Lin Zhu, Zhong Yao slowly regulated his breathing. He had planned, as he did every night, to pretend to be asleep first so his agent would fall asleep.

After an unknown amount of time, however, Lin Zhu — who normally would have been fast asleep by now — quietly stirred. Peeking out from Zhong Yao’s arms, he cautiously kissed his forehead.

Zhong Yao’s heart silently skipped a beat.

One of Lin Zhu’s hands settled on top of his head. With the air of an old veteran, he slowly traced circles through Zhong Yao’s hair and gently patted him. “It doesn’t hurt anymore…”

As though firmly convinced this method worked, Lin Zhu lowered his head and rubbed his forehead against Zhong Yao’s.

In a soft, hypnotic voice, he repeated, “It’s all in the past now. Once it’s in the past, it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s okay now…”

Mission accomplished.

Satisfied, Lin Zhu tucked himself back into Zhong Yao’s embrace, wriggled around until he found his usual comfortable spot, and began drifting toward sleep.

Zhong Yao’s heart suddenly clenched. ‘How could Lin Zhu… still remember?’

His emotions fluctuated too violently, and his breathing slipped before he could control it.

Lin Zhu, already half asleep, was startled by the movement.

Instinctively raising his head, he didn’t even have time to meet Zhong Yao’s eyes before the arm behind him tightened and pulled him firmly into an embrace.

Lin Zhu had always assumed Zhong Yao was asleep. Remembering what he’d just done, his face instantly flushed burning red. At a complete loss, he stammered, “Ge, y-you… why aren’t you asleep yet…”

“All these years…” Zhong Yao’s voice turned hoarse. Holding him tightly, he took a deep breath and tried to steady his tone. “All these years… have you been comforting yourself like that?”

Lin Zhu froze.

Zhong Yao squeezed his eyes shut, enduring the knife-like pain twisting through his chest. This was something he had taught Lin Zhu twelve years ago. Back then, he hadn’t known about Lin Zhu’s background; hadn’t known what he had gone through.

All he knew was that he was dealing with a boy who hid his softness and kindness beneath a shell of hostility. A boy who bristled with thorns and lashed out at people, yet secretly liked having his head patted and his neck rubbed.

Once, Zhong Yao had told him that if things became unbearably painful and there was no one around to comfort him, the boy could comfort and soothe his own self.

At the time, Zhong Yao had only thought it might help that sharp, guarded child relax a little. He hadn’t known then that a nightmare a hundred times worse than life in an orphanage lay waiting further down that boy’s road.

“It works… Ge, it really works!” Lin Zhu immediately grew anxious.

Grabbing Zhong Yao’s arm, which had gone rigid as iron, he hurried to explain. “I don’t even use it much. Only when things get really bad. It really does make me feel better! I don’t want you to be upset. Please don’t be upset…”

In his haste, he accidentally choked on his own words and started coughing uncontrollably.

Zhong Yao immediately snapped back to himself. Pulling Lin Zhu upright, he switched on the light with one hand, gently rubbed his back, and carefully fed him a few sips of water.

Only after Lin Zhu’s breathing finally steadied did he look up. The pain and self-reproach lingering in Zhong Yao’s eyes had yet to fade.

Suddenly, Lin Zhu realized what he had overlooked. The memories that had already settled into the past and could never be changed. The one being repeatedly pierced and tormented by those thorns was actually Zhong Yao. The less he knew, the more he couldn’t stop imagining. And the more he imagined, the more those scattered hints and fragments wounded him.

Lin Zhu didn’t want Zhong Yao to suffer.

After thinking carefully for a moment, he sat up properly and met Zhong Yao’s gaze. “Ge, let me tell you about my life.”

Worried he might get cold, Zhong Yao nodded. 

Pulling him back into his arms, he carefully wrapped both Lin Zhu and the blanket together. 

Warm and comfortable under such attentive care, Lin Zhu couldn’t help yawning. Rubbing against Zhong Yao’s neck, he began talking about the years he had lived through in great detail. He didn’t deliberately avoid the painful parts of his past, but neither did he overlook any small moments of brightness.

His teenage years had certainly been mostly dark, yet they hadn’t been entirely devoid of happiness. 

If nothing else, he had genuinely been happy every time he received one of those body pillows. 

As he told Zhong Yao these stories, Lin Zhu gradually noticed something himself. Secretly pressing a hand to his chest twice, he subconsciously burrowed a little deeper into Zhong Yao’s embrace.

After spending so much time with Zhong Yao, and after living with the Zhong family for a whole month, he had only just realized something.

Even when talking about memories that had once hurt so much they felt like knives through his heart no longer seemed painful.

He had everything, he was satisfied with them too. And all those wounds that had remained unhealed for years had quietly sealed over and formed scars one after another while he wasn’t paying attention.

“Looking at it this way, there were actually quite a lot of happy things.”

Lin Zhu was currently explaining his long-standing veteran status within the fan community. 

The more he talked, the more excited he became. His eyes sparkled as he turned around in Zhong Yao’s arms. “Ge, do you remember? There were so many rumors back then saying you were going back to inherit your family’s estate and quit the entertainment industry. Every time it happened, we were terrified!”

Listening quietly, Zhong Yao smiled. Pulling the blanket higher around his agent’s narrow shoulders, he replied, “I remember. There was one time I posted a photo and accidentally captured a tiny corner of our farm in the background. Somehow that got turned into an estate.”

Even now, thinking back on it felt absurd. “The rumors just kept escalating. At one point I heard people saying I had a noble title.”

Lin Zhu had been pretty young back then and had actually thought having a noble title sounded incredibly cool. His face reddened immediately.  Coughing, he waved his hand. “Anyway… that’s not the point.”

“I was really scared back then. If you stopped acting, I wouldn’t even know where to go see you.”

Determined to make Zhong Yao feel better, Lin Zhu continued exposing himself without reservation. “But every time, before long, you’d accept another role. Eventually we stopped worrying. No matter what happened, you were never going to leave the industry voluntarily…”

Understanding what his agent was trying to do, warmth flooded Zhong Yao’s chest. Holding him close, he smiled. “I really do love acting. Until the day I physically can’t act anymore, I’ll keep doing it.”

“I know, I know. And once you can’t act anymore, you’ll become a teacher. I’ll carry your lesson plans for you.”

The agent reviewed their seventy-year life plan every few days and had already memorized it by heart. Happily, he continued, “And if you can’t write on the board anymore, I’ll bring you a little stool. You can dictate and I’ll write. I’ll even help you grade homework.”

Zhong Yao was rendered speechless. His heart softened beyond words as he gathered Lin Zhu into his arms and kissed him seriously, attentively.

Lin Zhu liked this sort of gentle, lingering intimacy very much. Tilting his head up, he kissed him back and narrowed his eyes contentedly. “Ge, I’ve finished telling you about my side of things. Now you tell me — honestly, I really don’t remember saying any of that. Was I really that embarrassingly chuunibyou when I was a kid…?”

Knowing better than anyone how openly resistant Lin Zhu was toward this particular stretch of memories, Zhong Yao raised an eyebrow. The warmth that had finally settled back into his chest stirred again, and he deliberately put on a thoughtful expression. “Back then—”

Lin Zhu braced himself for death.

“Actually, I share some responsibility for what happened back then too.”

A trace of amusement flickered through Zhong Yao’s eyes. Chuckling softly, he flicked Lin Zhu’s nose. “At the time, filming wasn’t going very smoothly for me. The director scolded me several times, and I almost fell off a horse once… Anyway, one thing after another kept going wrong.”

Zhong Yao kissed the center of his brow, ancient memories surfaced in his eyes. “So… I started doubting myself a little too. I didn’t know whether I could really keep doing this kind of work.”

Of course Lin Zhu remembered that.

In fact, the reason Zhong Yao had been scolded was largely because of him.

Back then, after discovering that Lin Zhu had collapsed with a fever, it had originally been arranged for a crew member to take him to the hospital. Unfortunately, that crew member got busy and forgot. They left him alone in the rest area for half a day without checking on him. After finishing a scene, Zhong Yao returned to grab something and immediately spotted him. The fever had only gotten worse.

At the time, Zhong Yao was only eighteen years old himself, still a teenager, still full of youthful impulsiveness. His temper flared instantly. He stopped filming altogether and insisted on taking Lin Zhu to the hospital first, personally staying with him until his IV drip was finished.

Zhong Yao had always been upright and disciplined. Throughout that entire production, that was the only impulsive thing he did.

Because of it, people found reasons to criticize him several times afterward.

Then there was the horse trainer neglecting his duties and failing to adjust the saddle properly, nearly causing him to be thrown from the horse. The director wasn’t satisfied with some of the filming results and scolded him a few more times…. One thing piled onto another, and Zhong Yao’s confidence in acting wasn’t exactly at its highest.

“I was only eighteen then and had never received any formal training. All I knew was that I liked acting. Whether I could actually do it well, whether I had any talent… I had no idea.”

Smiling, Zhong Yao rubbed Lin Zhu’s head. “Then one day, after I finished filming and was heading back to the hotel, I got stopped by a little kid I’d only recently met.”

Lin Zhu: “…”

From this point onward, Lin Zhu had absolutely no memory of anything.

Not only that, he was beginning to develop a vague sense of impending doom.

Completely ignoring his growing panic, Zhong Yao continued at an unhurried pace. “He was carrying a bamboo pole and very impressively blocked my path.”

“The filming location was in the middle of nowhere. He made a little rabbit out of dogtail grass and stuffed it into my hand, saying it was a flower for me…”

“He was very fierce about it. Refusing wasn’t an option.”

Lowering his head, Zhong Yao smiled at him. “He told me that my acting was amazing, and that he was my fan.”

Lin Zhu’s breathing stalled.

“He told me not to listen to all the nonsense those directors and producers were saying. He told me to believe in myself. He demanded that I keep acting properly, star in lots and lots of productions, and become incredibly, incredibly famous…”

Zhong Yao’s voice was gentle but unwavering. “At the time, I thought to myself— this is my very first little fan… I couldn’t disappoint him.”

Lin Zhu’s eyes immediately turned red as he buried himself in Zhong Yao’s embrace.

“So really, if it hadn’t been for you, I might genuinely have lost my confidence back then.”

Holding him close, Zhong Yao gently rubbed his back. “When we get home, I’ll show you that little rabbit. I’ve still kept it. Though you can’t touch it anymore. It’ll probably disintegrate if anyone does.”

“I can still make them.” Sniffling, Lin Zhu continued, “I’ll make you another one later.”

Zhong Yao smiled and nodded. Ruffling his hair, he tucked him back under the blankets. Just as he was about to turn off the light, the deeply moved agent suddenly came to his senses.

“Wait.”

Lin Zhu tugged at Zhong Yao’s sleeve. “Ge, I don’t think the memory you just told me included that line I supposedly said. And you still haven’t explained why I don’t remember any of this.”

In the end, Zhong Yao hadn’t managed to distract him after all. The actor’s hand froze halfway to the light switch. After a small cough, he lowered his head. “You really want to know?”

Lin Zhu was dying of curiosity. Completely fearless, he nodded rapidly.

Zhong Yao sighed softly and patted his head. “Alright.”

Sitting up slightly, he continued, “After telling me all that, you suddenly lunged at me, grabbed my collar, and used your bamboo pole to threaten me into promising that even if I became so famous the whole world knew my name, I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about your situation.”

Lin Zhu: “…”

“You said that if I told anyone, you would never be my world’s Number One Bestest Best Friend ever again.”

Zhong Yao was utterly sincere. Holding nothing back, he recounted every detail. “After saying that, you carried your bamboo pole away and ran off at incredible speed in a very strange zigzag pattern.”

Lin Zhu: “…………”

“Now, back then I was still a student. I hadn’t really attended many social functions yet, so I didn’t have much experience with alcohol. I didn’t really know what being drunk felt like or what drunk people looked like. But, based on our later interactions, and on the social experience I’ve accumulated since then—”

Watching his agent’s expression carefully, Zhong Yao chose his words with great caution. “I think there’s a very high probability that after leaving me, you proceeded to run laps around the film set…”