MACRM Chapter 47

The two of them arrived at [Light and Shadow]’s recording studio, where the staff were still busy making the final preparations before rehearsal.

Lin Zhu’s reputation still carried weight — the entire [Light and Shadow] production team had been called into three consecutive all-hands meetings. The moment Zhong Yao appeared at the doorway, someone immediately hurried over with exaggerated enthusiasm and respectfully escorted them backstage.

“The structure of the segments isn’t bad. For a competitive variety show, there’s inherent appeal and value. The earlier episodes leaned too much on artificial design and editing sleight of hand. It looked classy, but too few people noticed…”

When Lin Zhu first took on the project, he hadn’t watched the show carefully. Over the past few days, he’d gone through every single episode, leading his team to dissect the details vertically and dig up gossip horizontally. He had the production’s entire playbook figured out, and as he walked with Zhong Yao, he explained meticulously, “This time we’ve told them to scrap the prewritten scripts, and I’ll personally oversee the editing. The guest judges are all heavyweights, so the scoring will be genuinely fair.”

Still mindful of the show’s earlier attempts to exploit Zhong Yao for publicity, Lin Zhu was utterly unrestrained, reporting everything with precision. “Before, they manipulated results by tampering with the live and external voting tallies. This time the weighting has been adjusted, and we’re allowed to station our own people for full supervision. There won’t be any more tricks.”

The director beside them looked both amused and helpless. He didn’t dare deny it, so he could only nod along with a strained smile. “Yes, yes. After the network’s directive, we’ve overhauled everything. I promise it’s absolutely fair and transparent now…”

Zhong Yao was speechless. “I understand the situation. Don’t be nervous.”

His own agent, radiating a fierce bandit-like aura, had the entire crew trembling. Even speaking felt risky. When Lin Zhu’s gaze swept across two young production assistants, they got so startled they dropped their things and ran.

Zhong Yao found it amusing. While offering polite words, he reached out and gently pressed Lin Zhu’s back. “I had a pleasant experience working with Tianxing before. It’s a pity I left in such a rush and never got to express my thanks… I believe in the production team, and I’m sure this collaboration will go smoothly too.”

Lin Zhu froze mid-step. Something in those words must have struck him, because his face suddenly flushed, and his imposing aura quietly softened.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with the director and seeing him off, Zhong Yao turned around to find his agent secretly smiling to himself in delight. Surprised, with laughter in his eyes, he asked, “What has got you so happy?”

Lin Zhu pressed his lips together, tilting his head slightly as he looked up. “Ge… were you really that happy working with Tianxing back then?”

Even though it was only a rehearsal, exposure was still possible at any time. Zhong Yao had been leaning into a youthful image recently, so Lin Zhu made sure to counterbalance it. He picked out a custom-fitted suit, paired with a fine-patterned tie and platinum lapel pin. From head to toe, he exuded the aura of an untouchable professional, clearly meant to keep those schemers who wanted to manipulate Zhong Yao at bay.

So as not to outshine him, Lin Zhu dressed casually himself with just a hoodie and jeans from that wall of Clozeya. With the bandit aura tucked away, he looked younger than usual.

Zhong Yao hadn’t expected that question. He remembered Lin Zhu mentioning he’d once fought with someone from Tianxing. Just as he was about to steer the topic elsewhere, the eager brightness in Lin Zhu’s eyes made something stir faintly in his chest.

A fleeting thought brushed past before he could catch it. Zhong Yao smiled, nodded earnestly, and said, “Yes, it was a great experience. And I don’t mean that as polite talk. I always wanted to personally thank the host at that press conference, but missed the chance… Maybe I’ll get to meet him this time?”

Heat welled up in Lin Zhu’s chest, feeling something sweet, glowing. His ears reddened as he mumbled, “Okay…”

He followed Zhong Yao as they observed the set, still unable to suppress his happiness, the corners of his lips quietly curving upward.

Zhong Yao had been truly happy back then!

If that fight had been what made him happy, then it had all been worth it.

Overflowing with excitement, Lin Zhu’s attitude toward the [Light and Shadow] staff softened considerably, which only made the director more nervous. After accompanying them for a while, he hastily pulled a few assistants over to shadow them and retreated backstage under the pretext of work.

Zhong Yao noticed the maneuver, understood instantly, but said nothing. He continued listening attentively as Lin Zhu detailed everything he’d prepared.

[The Battle of Light and Shadow] was a competitive variety show, and without scripted guidance, it depended even more on real-time performance. The so-called rehearsal was merely a walk-through of the site and process, not much to do in essence.

Lin Zhu’s arrangements were thorough; he even checked lighting and sound. After completing the full circuit, he handed Zhong Yao to the production team for the stage entrance and exit run-through and stationed himself to the side of the stage.

As soon as Zhong Yao took his place in the audience area, even before stepping onstage, the producer came forward with a broad smile.

“Zhong-laoshi, we’ve been looking forward to your arrival.”

While the host recited lines on stage, the producer quickly shook Zhong Yao’s hand with an ingratiating grin. “There’ve been some false rumors recently, that we invited you with ulterior motives, intending to put you at a disadvantage…”

He was a seasoned variety producer, long accustomed to hyping people up and creating conflict for publicity. Originally, he’d struck a comfortable deal with Canxing Entertainment to promote Zheng Yi while stepping on Zhong Yao, but unexpectedly, he’d kicked an iron wall[mfn]fighting someone he shouldn’t (because he was too weak), and lost as a result.[/mfn]. The very next day, the station chief himself had called him in and chewed him out.

Zhong Yao might have fame but no background; after three years out of the spotlight, he’d been a serious actor, barely participating in any variety shows. No one could have guessed that he’d have the kind of influence to make the station chief personally intervene and even force a change to the show’s rules.

Zhong Yao had already sensed as much, his expression calm. “At a disadvantage?”

“Just rumors! We never had such intentions.”

Sweat gathered in the producer’s palms as he leaned in with a placating smile. “Still, these rumors may have misled your agent and caused some unpleasant misunderstandings between us. As the producer, I thought it necessary to explain…”

The entertainment industry was always full of exaggeration and half-truths; anything heard had to be taken with a grain of salt. The underlings might believe the gossip, but the new producer and director team didn’t truly think Lin Zhu had anything to do with it.

If he really possessed that kind of deep, overbearing backing, he could have easily kept an artist under his care without lifting a finger. There would be no need to work as an agent at all. More likely, it was Zhong Yao who had some hidden, powerful background, and the unshakable aura around him simply came with a tough, no-nonsense agent to guard him.

Having already changed tactics, none of them wanted to risk offending someone with that kind of potential backing just because of an old plan.

Worried that the hard-to-handle agent might have filled Zhong Yao’s head with negative impressions of the production team, the producer finally caught him alone, smiling obsequiously, “No matter what your agent might’ve said, please don’t misunderstand. Our invitation to you was sincere, truly sincere—”

Zhong Yao cut him off, tone calm but cold. “I think you’re the one misunderstanding.”

The producer’s expression faltered; he laughed awkwardly. “Wh—what do you mean? We—”

Zhong Yao brushed his wristwatch, an old Jaeger-LeCoultre model long past its fashionable days, then tugged the sleeve back down, raising his gaze toward the stage side, where Lin Zhu was standing.

With the stage between them, he could only glimpse Lin Zhu’s silhouette in the distance. The agent in a hoodie, stopwatch in hand, wholly focused on timing the host’s speech to calculate the best editing points.

“Until you came to talk to me,” Zhong Yao said evenly, “I hadn’t heard a single word about these ‘false rumors.’”

The producer’s smile froze, color drained from his face.

The host had just finished his transition lines when Zhong Yao, timing it precisely, stepped up to the stage and smoothly followed the rehearsal flow as planned.

Lin Zhu had never mentioned any of this. Perhaps he didn’t want Zhong Yao involved. All Zhong Yao knew was that [Light and Shadow] didn’t have the best reputation. They were  known for manipulating guests and scripting “reality”. But, he’d never heard from anyone that the show had intended to target him from the start.

He had no idea how much maneuvering Lin Zhu had done on his behalf, how many strings he’d pulled, or how many people he’d offended along the way.

Even while staying focused on the rehearsal, Zhong Yao’s seasoned instincts caught something in his peripheral vision, and suddenly his brows tightened.

A small group of people had appeared out of nowhere, surrounding Lin Zhu completely. The man in front said something he couldn’t hear  and then pushed him.

“Now, let’s welcome Zhong-laoshi—” The host, mid-script, noticed his gaze fixed on the side of the stage and faltered. “Zhong-laoshi?”

Zhong Yao slipped off his watch and tucked it into his pocket. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well.”

Startled, the host quickly gestured to halt the rehearsal. “That’s all right, it’s only a rehearsal! Are you all right? We’ve got a first-aid kit backstage—”

But Zhong Yao was already striding down the steps.

Lin Zhu stood at the side of the stage, facing Zheng Yi, his expression showing a rare hint of weariness.

The next [Light and Shadow] episode was Zheng Yi’s showcase. To promote him, Canxing had lined up a few inoffensive, inexperienced young artists as foils. Even with the rule changes, his win was practically guaranteed.

Zheng Yi himself didn’t care much about that. What caught him off guard was that Lin Zhu had seized control over the editing rights. With that, Zhong Yao couldn’t be sabotaged in post-production, and his own victory was just as secure. This round’s lineup was stacked with top-tier names to match Zhong Yao’s fame, and with the two episodes airing back-to-back, the setup all but screamed rivalry.

If it came down to a championship showdown between them, Canxing’s scheming would’ve completely backfired. Zheng Yi would be the one ruined.

The production team hadn’t dared to use Zhong Yao for hype, afraid any real conflict between the two would explode out of control. They’d deliberately sent Zheng Yi away before bringing Zhong Yao in. But Zheng Yi had doubled back on his own, sneaking in with two assistants behind his agent’s back.

“If money’s not enough for you, then what the hell do you want?!”

The assistant had tried to hand Lin Zhu a gold UnionPay card, but he hadn’t even looked at it. Zheng Yi, furious, snatched it back and shoved it into Lin Zhu’s chest. “You’re just doing this for a paycheck like the rest of us, aren’t you?! What else do you want? A house? A car? You name it, I’ll give it to you!”

Zhong Yao never brought more than one person with him, and once the rehearsal ended, Lin Zhu would definitely be back at his side.

Zheng Yi couldn’t let his manager find out he was here, and time was running short — frustration rose to a fever pitch. “You just have to let him get flamed once! It won’t ruin him forever! Scandals bring traffic, and the fans will pity him! Isn’t that better for him in the long run?! Why—”

“No.”

Lin Zhu’s interruption was quiet but firm.

He had promised Zhong Yao not to fight, so he suppressed the urge to throw the man out by force, lifting an arm instead to block Zheng Yi’s hand.

Zheng Yi glared at him through clenched teeth.

Lin Zhu smiled slightly, each word deliberate and clear. “I want him to move forward openly, with peace of mind, and with dignity. He’s not allowed to be wronged even once. Not to stumble, not to bow.”

Zheng Yi’s whole body trembled, his eyes suddenly red.

Few artists at their level had any real agency left. He, too, had been pushed and manipulated by his company time and again.

Lin Zhu didn’t blame him; he simply pushed the card back into Zheng Yi’s hand. “Stop this already… You asked what I wanted. I will tell you.”

Leaning against the stage, Lin Zhu’s eyes were calm and unwavering. “I only want Zhong Yao.”

Zheng Yi’s last bit of resistance crumbled. Breathing hard, eyes bright with tears, he lifted the card again, this time to throw it at Lin Zhu.

It wouldn’t hurt, as Lin Zhu was long past the age of brawling. He didn’t want anyone saying Zhong Yao’s agent was volatile, easy to provoke. He just turned slightly, intending to look back at the stage—

And froze. The stage was empty. Zhong Yao was gone.

Before he could react further, a hand shot out from the side, gripping Zheng Yi’s raised arm in a steel hold.

Lin Zhu blinked, startled, then realized what was happening and turned in alarm. “Ge! I’m fine, he wasn’t going to hit me—”

But even as he spoke, his reflexes kicked in. Something felt off. Swift as lightning, he stepped forward and clamped a hand over Zheng Yi’s mouth, forcibly smothering the panicked, pain-stricken cry that had barely started to escape.