Lin Zhu：“……”
Lin Zhu’s mental car screeched to a stop, spun in a circle, and rolled right back to the parking lot gate[mfn]car = censored euphemism for sex. In this case, Lin Zhu was raring to go, but then it was halted by Zhong Yao[/mfn]
He lifted his head, met Zhong Yao’s gaze, and obediently shook his head as he was unable to bear disappointing him. “I… I don’t know…”
Seeing the ancient creaky tricycle Zhong Yao had just pedaled out like an old grandpa on a stroll, Lin Zhu took a quiet breath[mfn]Lin Zhu is saying that Zhong Yao is sexy and horny but slow… like an old man[/mfn]. His face is still heating up uncontrollably.
Sticking out his tongue sounded pretty nice, actually.
He’d been Zhong Yao’s fan for over ten years, watched countless Ministry-of-Education-approved, rule-of-law propaganda, reform-and-opening-up inspirational dramas. Not once had he encountered something this stimulating.
He took a breath, ready to speak. Then he suddenly imagined Zhong Yao performing a kiss scene with a serious and righteous expression. He couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud at the worst possible moment.
Zhong Yao: “…”
“No, no!” Lin Zhu coughed and tried to salvage the situation. “It’s— it’s joy! I’m overjoyed! I’ve never seen your kiss scenes before. I’m really looking forward to it…”
His heart sped up. Thinking of past gossip and rumored on-set kiss scenes, he lifted his head. “Ge… all these years, you really never filmed a kiss scene?”
Back when Zhong Yao was at his peak, he’d taken roles that included a married character or two. There was one drama where rumors said he had kiss scenes with the female lead. But in the released version everything was clean as a whistle, and the media later claimed they were cut for post-production reasons. To this day, the rumors were half-myth, half-reality.
It’s normal for celebrities to fake a CP and fabricate stories. Lin Zhu never doubted Zhong Yao hadn’t even held a female co-star’s hand. But after these days of being pampered, itchiness crawled under his skin. He wanted to hear the truth from Zhong Yao himself.
Interrupted by Lin Zhu, Zhong Yao forgot his own nervousness and chuckled. “Really.”
The room was still a bit cold, as the AC had only just been turned on. He pulled Lin Zhu into his arms and warmed his hands. “The roles I took weren’t romance-themed. No need to force that kind of plot.”
“At first, I was too young for those scenes. And back then, censorship was strict. Public-education dramas weren’t allowed intimate scenes anyway. Even if you filmed them, they wouldn’t pass review. No point wasting effort.”
He ruffled Lin Zhu’s hair, answering every question. “Later on, the company didn’t want me changing my image, so I continued with the same types of roles. I didn’t want to ‘break through’ in that area either…”
Lin Zhu, for the first time in his life, felt that Canxing Entertainment had actually done something right. He wanted to be discreet about his happiness, but the corners of his lips still curled up.
Zhong Yao reacted fast, catching his manager who was trying to burrow into his chest. “Happy?”
Lin Zhu’s face was flushed, eyes bright, lips pressed together as he nodded.
Zhong Yao smiled. Suddenly, he held Lin Zhu still, hands firm at his shoulders. “Then… don’t move.”
Caught up in gossip, they’d almost forgotten the main agenda for tonight.
Lin Zhu’s eyes widened. Before he could process anything, Zhong Yao’s gentle but irresistible hold enclosed him completely.
“Won’t close your eyes?”
Zhong Yao smiled, lowered his head, and kissed the stunned manager in his arms.
The moment warmth touched his lips, Lin Zhu — whose mental car had already sped beyond the known universe — collapsed instantly.
Zhong Yao’s acting talent was evident in all aspects of his profession, especially his ability to translate written scenarios into real-life application. Before Lin Zhu could recover, his lips were parted softly, and he could only watch helplessly as Zhong Yao conquered his new territory.
…
Half a minute later, Zhong Yao pulled back slightly, looking at Lin Zhu clinging to his arm and gasping for air.
“It’s alright. It’s just a kiss. You’re okay.”
He kept him in his arms and soothed him. “Don’t rush. Deep breaths…”
Lin Zhu’s face burned. Mortified, he buried himself deeper into Zhong Yao’s chest. “Ge, you’re not allowed to laugh!”
Zhong Yao coughed. “I’m not laughing…”
Lin Zhu did not believe him. He looked up indignantly, only to meet eyes overflowing with laughter. His indignation collapsed; his face turned even redder.
Zhong Yao’s own cheeks were warm. Relying entirely on his years of acting to maintain composure, he cleared his throat and stood. “The food’s getting cold… I’ll go warm the dishes.”
The candles still flickered on the table. The takeaway food had been plated neatly, giving it a surprisingly formal atmosphere.
Lin Zhu refused to admit his legs were weak. He stayed on the bed, pressing a hand over his pounding chest, trying to calm down. He was still marveling at how Zhong Yao could be this skilled on the first try, when the switch clicked and the room plunged into darkness.
Candlelight danced across Zhong Yao’s profile, so tender it made Lin Zhu’s heart tremble.
“I wanted to take you out to eat… Once filming is over, let’s go on vacation. We’ll go eat everything we want.”
Zhong Yao smiled, took his hand.
Lin Zhu stumbled to his feet. With a tug of strength he didn’t mean to use, he was pulled straight into Zhong Yao’s embrace again.
He couldn’t even tell up from down anymore. Buried against the man’s neck, he whispered, “Ge… I’m supposed to be the one coaxing you…”
“I know.” Zhong Yao kissed his cheek. “I’ve never… been this happy.”
He held Lin Zhu, then pulled back slightly to meet his stunned eyes. The corners of his own eyes curved tenderly. “And I have a very strong feeling… that every day from now on will be even happier.”
Lin Zhu’s eyes burned. He nodded hard.
“So—”
Zhong Yao’s face heated again. Using the darkness to his advantage, he checked Lin Zhu’s pulse with a light touch, then lowered his head. “I didn’t do very well just now… can I try kissing you again?”
The next morning, Lin Zhu hid under the blankets, staring blankly at the flood of messages on his phone before turning the screen off.
He’d rushed through a full night of work. Zhong Yao had kept his phone off all night. Thanks to the big-mouthed assistant who’d bought the candles, the entire Zhong Yao team had spent the night gossiping themselves into madness about the boss and the agent’s “life milestone.”
Even the elite-looking special assistant from Lin Song’s side had joined the chaos. News reached Lin Song that very night.
His brother was so thrilled he vowed to give Lin Zhu “a great surprise,” blissfully unaware of the situation.
All morning long, Lin Zhu had been painfully educated by the team on the entire process, from the prep, technique, and aftercare. He felt like he could drive a high-octane car off the edge of the world. Spiritually aged a hundred years, he rolled over while still buried in a blanket.
If anyone ever found out that the second time they kissed, he couldn’t stand afterward, nearly hyperventilated, and Zhong Yao ended up holding him and telling bedtime stories until dawn… This fierce, legendary agent of the entertainment industry would simply retire early.
The planning manager was still lurking downstairs, keeping an eye on things. For the sake of dignity alone, Lin Zhu was determined to stay in bed until 9:45 AM.
Zhong Yao didn’t have much filming today, nothing stressful. Determined to stay in bed, Lin Zhu rolled around under the blankets for a while, when his phone, oblivious to his suffering, buzzed again.
He really didn’t want to answer any messages about his physical condition. He was about to delete it without even opening it when a glance at the content made him jolt upright.
It was the “surprise” Lin Song had mentioned.
He suddenly remembered his brother questioning him about Li Yijie. Lin Zhu had assumed Lin Song wanted to interfere in that drama’s funding pipeline and had specifically told him to wait. Specifically, wait until Li Yijie acted up again, then hit him with a memorable blow. But unexpectedly, the “surprise” Lin Song sent… was an audition invitation.
Lin Song: [Mom and Dad’s friends helped arrange it. Marensius[mfn]original Chinese: 马伦修斯 Mǎ lún xiū sī. I google’d it, and this should be a fictional character. Another translation for this name could be: Marencius/Marenchius/Marlensius/etc[/mfn]’ film. They’re looking for an Asian actor to play the lead. It’s an Oscar-contending film, and the shooting starts next June. The audition slot is reserved until the end of this year.
Lin Song: [If you have time, come back to Beijing. Their team is here hugging pandas. Looks like they’ll be sticking around for half a month.]
Lin Song: [There are just too many people competing for it, and several big names want in. Some of the stars who just hit the box office charts are vying for it too. So winning it will probably be hard… but give it to Zhong Yao first to coax him!]
Lin Song: [If he’s happy, then you can do whatever you want, right?]
Lin Song: [But don’t go too far. He’s still filming. If the media catches you, it’ll affect you more.]
Lin Song: [So how far have you two gotten? Do you need to find a sex toy company to collaborate with? When I went abroad this time, I saw these tiny handcuffs that’s pretty cute. No idea how to use them, though…]
Seeing the messages getting more and more derailed, Lin Zhu quickly replied a few times to stop his brother’s imagination from going nuclear, then opened the audition invite.
His eyes brightened bit by bit.
An invitation from a director of this level was nearly impossible to obtain. And even after getting the invite, to prevent leaks, they wouldn’t disclose the film’s subject matter or plot before the formal audition. At most, there would be vague notes on what kind of actors they needed.
Zhong Yao had spent three years abroad, had strong language skills, and had Broadway theater experience. As long as he, the agent, worked hard enough, he still had confidence he could bite off a piece of meat, even competing with top-tier actors represented by elite agents.
But… contact with the team needed to start within half a month.
Which meant he’d need to fly back.
Lin Zhu calculated the timing. No matter what, Zhong Yao couldn’t leave. They would have to split up. The stunt-required scenes were all in the early schedule; once those were filmed, Lin Zhu could fly over, and timing should still work.
He calculated again and again, mapped everything out, and excitement surged. He couldn’t stay lying down. He got up and dressed.
Lin Song had stayed abroad this long just to polish this opportunity. Seeing his brother’s clearly thrilled replies, he felt immensely proud and began sending more and more messages, showing off.
Lin Song: [Mom and Dad arranged the dinner. I met the director once.]
Lin Song: [He’s very nice, speaks a bit of Chinese. He’s easy to talk to.]
Lin Song: [And there’s something else I haven’t told you yet.]
Lin Zhu laughed, slipped his arm into a sleeve, and messaged back.
Bamboo Shoot[mfn]uh actually, his ID is 笋笋笋笋, which is “bamboo shoot” repeated four times. It looked clunky af in English though…[/mfn]: [Gege gege gege gege! Did you hear what genre it is? Just give me a hint so I can prepare here.
Whatever the genre, they had to fight for it.
Zipper pulled up, smiling, he unlocked his phone for Lin Song’s reply. Only for the smile to freeze on his lips.
Lin Song: [Horror/suspense mystery genre. There’s a touch of supernatural ability too. The protagonist seems able to know what other people are thinking.]
Lin Song: [No idea why foreigners like this stuff… The setup sounds exhausting. Knowing everything people think, how miserable would that be?]
