Happy New Year!! My new year wish is get a WFH job with decent salary…
Zhong Yao opened his arms and caught the agent rushing into him, holding him steady against his chest.
“Ge, why did you come here on your own?”
Lin Zhu couldn’t help bouncing a little in his embrace, tilting his head up with bright eyes. “I just brought everyone over. I was planning to go pick you up— you still haven’t rested properly!”
The club was very quiet. It wasn’t just visited by people from the entertainment industry, there were business and political clients too. Paparazzi were implicitly forbidden.
Lin Zhu had been thinking about Zhong Yao the entire ride, assuming he would have to drive over before he could see him. He hadn’t expected Zhong Yao to come here on his own.
Just seeing him made Lin Zhu completely content. He clutched Zhong Yao’s sleeve, unable to stop smiling no matter how he tried.
“I’ve been here twice to eat, just happened to recognize the place.”
Zhong Yao laughed, loosened his arms, and led him inside by the hand. “If you hadn’t told me not to, I would’ve gone straight to Huaying to pick you up.”
Thinking of that glimpse he’d caught of his agent full of swagger and dominance, Zhong Yao’s smile deepened. He tucked Lin Zhu’s hand into his coat pocket. “Want to hang out a bit, or go home?”
“Go home!”
Heat rushed through Lin Zhu’s chest. He gripped Zhong Yao’s hand. “I was already thinking about going home on the way here. I was gonna toast everyone and run away with you.”
Now that he was completely at ease, Lin Zhu had energy for everything: bossing the front desk around to order food to-go while lecturing Zhong Yao,
“Ge, that Huaying place— throw a brick and you’ll hit three paparazzi. You seriously can’t go there. If they snap a picture, who knows what insane story they’ll make up…”
“I know.”
Zhong Yao didn’t let go of his hand. Lin Zhu dragged him around every display case in the lobby, and he finally couldn’t resist rubbing Lin Zhu’s head. “Two dishes are enough. I already cooked rice and made soup. We won’t be able to eat much.”
Lin Zhu forced himself to rein in his excitement, tore his eyes away from the menu, and stepped into the elevator with him.
With no outsiders around for the moment, Zhong Yao reached into his pocket and produced a piece of osmanthus cake. He unwrapped it, and held it up to Lin Zhu’s mouth. “Are you hungry?”
Lin Zhu’s gaze never left him. He shook his head subconsciously and bit down on the cake.
But Zhong Yao didn’t pull his hand back; instead, he slipped an arm behind Lin Zhu’s neck, gently drawing him close.
The elevator rose at a steady pace. In the soft mechanical hum, Lin Zhu shivered, face heating instantly. “Ge, wait until we get home—”
“Be good. Let me see your hand.”
Zhong Yao’s voice was gentle as he brought Lin Zhu’s right hand forward and began removing the wrist brace. “It’s too tight. It’ll be purple by the time we get home.”
Lin Zhu: “…”
He’d accidentally raced ahead of Zhong Yao’s subtle flirting again. Lin Zhu took a deep breath, watching gloomily as Zhong Yao worked with practiced finesse, stripping off the brace in a few motions and cradling his wrist.
A faint pain surfaced beneath the numbness, and Lin Zhu sucked in a sharp breath.
“Pain is good. If it’s so tight you can’t even feel that, you won’t be able to use your hand later.”
Zhong Yao massaged his wrist slowly, voice warm and soothing. “If it really hurts, take a painkiller. I brought your meds back. I have the salt bag too. We’ll heat it when we get home. You’ll be fine after a night of rest.”
Realizing Zhong Yao had known about the painkillers all along, Lin Zhu’s face flushed. He tucked his chin down. “I haven’t been taking much lately…”
Zhong Yao smiled, leaned down, and kissed his wrist. “I know.”
Lin Zhu: “!!”
Just then, the elevator doors opened. Lin Zhu’s face burned as he obediently shuffled out behind Zhong Yao.
With their hands still loosely linked and tucked into a pocket, Zhong Yao led the way into the reserved private room, then went table to table offering toasts.
Even obeying the speed limit, Zhong Yao’s gentleness was more than enough to overwhelm Lin Zhu. Blushing ears in hand, Lin Zhu silently vowed to fight back. He stared at Zhong Yao, trying to read whether he’d learned anything new.
The whole team shipped them already. Their lack of personal space didn’t surprise anyone; chatter and laughter filled the room.
Zhong Yao was easygoing, talking with everyone, signing autographs on request. Lin Zhu couldn’t find a single chance. The more he failed, the more anxious he got. He finally prepared to cheat and call Zhong Yao back. “Ge—”
“What is it?”
Zhong Yao had a rather negative impression of Lin Zhu’s alcohol tolerance, and hadn’t let him touch a drop all night. Hearing him call, he turned and took Lin Zhu’s hand. “No. Behave. I’m flying tomorrow. We can’t go running laps downstairs…”
Lin Zhu seized the moment, met his gaze, and grinned triumphantly, ready to steal another technique, when suddenly he felt a tiny lurch beneath his foot.
He jolted awake, ripping his eyes away as his heart pounded hard.
He had just… actively tried to read Zhong Yao’s mind.
It’s not that he treats mind-reading as a necessary tool. He wasn’t worrying about crossing boundaries about what he could read, and he wasn’t worried about being discovered. He’s just doing it for fun, for a harmless spark of competitiveness—
Not since the age of five had Lin Zhu ever felt purely, wholeheartedly happy about being able to read minds.
Clutching his half cup of milk, his heartbeat was so fast even his throat felt tight.
……
Now this surge of excitement was once again, without him even realizing it, gently picked up by Zhong Yao.
The rest of the toasts passed in a blur. Lin Zhu barely heard any of the teasing or racket around him.
Zhong Yao took care of the team’s morale, handed out red envelopes, and even drank a full round of wine on Lin Zhu’s behalf. Lin Zhu behaved the whole time, sipping milk. By the time he fully came back to himself, he was already outside the club, seated in the car heading home.
“What’s wrong? Are you tired?”
Zhong Yao let him recline against his leg, one hand pressed to his forehead, checking his temperature over and over. “If you’re sleepy, take a nap. I’m here.”
Lin Zhu shook his head at once, trying to sit up, but Zhong Yao easily scooped him back, catching him off guard while he couldn’t use strength in his wrist, and held him in place.
“Even if you’re not sleepy, just rest a bit…”
Zhong Yao lowered his head with a faint smile, eyes gentle, arms tightening slightly around him. “Let me hold you for a while.”
Heat bloomed across Lin Zhu’s chest. He relaxed, letting Zhong Yao fully wrap around him, burying himself against Zhong Yao’s body, breathing in the faint scent of wine that clung to him. His eyes began to sting.
He clutched the sleeve at Zhong Yao’s elbow, voice soft. “Ge… did I worry you?”
Zhong Yao had drunk quite a bit tonight. Though his tolerance was always decent, he was slightly tipsy now, his reactions slow. “Hm?”
He paused for a moment before catching up with Lin Zhu’s words, then let out a low laugh and bent down to kiss Lin Zhu’s forehead. “I’m not worried.”
Their reflections flickered once in the rearview mirror. Zhong Yao narrowed his eyes, pulled up his coat, and draped it over Lin Zhu, tucking him back into his arms.
The new driver had only been around for a few days and had already experienced a street fight, a high-end club, and now the Film Emperor’s unexpected secrets. Terrified he knew too much and might be silenced, he didn’t dare look in the rearview again, focusing all his attention on counting the streetlights shooting past.
Zhong Yao lowered his head, kissing him slowly. The faint traces of wine on his breath made Lin Zhu’s heart race. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on Zhong Yao’s sleeve. “Ge, I didn’t take good care of myself today. I’m sorry…”
“You take such good care of me, how could you not take care of yourself?”
Zhong Yao ruffled his hair, voice quiet and slow. “Living comfortably and living well… those aren’t the same thing.”
Lin Zhu blinked up at him, dazed.
Zhong Yao smiled. “Eating on time, sleeping on time, resting when you’re tired, venting when you’re upset, working hard, living actively— that’s living well. Everyone knows that.”
Still ruffling his hair, he looked out the window and sighed. “I know too. But I still can’t help staying up late playing Candy Crush…”
Lin Zhu: “…”
Struck speechless by the unexpected philosophical reflection from a veteran artist, Lin Zhu took a deep breath and reached for Zhong Yao’s phone. “Ge, the night before yesterday you weren’t reading a script— you were playing Candy Crush?”
Zhong Yao cleared his throat, covering Lin Zhu’s eyes while snatching his phone back. “I did read it… then I couldn’t resist. I promise I won’t play anymore.”
“Let’s not talk about that…”
Zhong Yao hastily patched the hole and changed the subject. “Sometimes… to live more comfortably, you might end up not living quite as well.”
“But comfort matters too.”
Zhong Yao continued, “Especially when you’re already tired and stressed, already trying so hard. There will always be things you know you should do, but truly don’t want to… at least not yet.”
Lin Zhu’s heart thudded fast, his voice hoarse. “But—”
Zhong Yao smiled, placing a finger gently over his lips, then kissed him. “I want you comfortable first, Xiao Zhu.”
Zhong Yao: “Finding comfort is your job. Making sure your life goes well… that’s my job. You don’t need to worry about it.”
Zhong Yao: “Since I’m the one responsible, I only need to worry about whether I’m doing well enough. Why would I worry about you?”
Something trembled violently in Lin Zhu’s chest, like all the air had suddenly vanished. His throat burned, and he buried himself hard into Zhong Yao’s arms.
The car sped quietly through the night. Zhong Yao held the agent in his arms the entire way, like on an airplane, waiting until the faint tremors in Lin Zhu’s body had eased, until the warmth against him became soft again, squirming around searching for a dry, warm spot, nuzzling like a kitten that refused to stop.
Zhong Yao couldn’t help smiling. He patted Lin Zhu’s back. “I didn’t bring spare clothes, Lin-laoshi. All my wardrobe here went to the set. If I can’t wear this coat tomorrow, I’ll really have to consider flying shirtless…”
Lin Zhu grew self-conscious, ears red as he sniffled. Hearing that, he looked up in disbelief. “But, Ge, you even brought the salt pack and painkillers!”
Zhong Yao nodded. “Right. And I brought two packets of herbal powder, two sets of clothes for you, a watch, a tea warmer base, a small space heater, a pack of heat patches, a pillow, and three bags of crunchy noodles…”
Lin Zhu: “…”
The top agent, who was too lazy to get out of bed every morning and would eat crunchy instant noodles under the covers, blushed furiously and covered Zhong Yao’s mouth with his hand. He looked like he was on the verge of dying from pure shame.
Zhong Yao didn’t feel anything strange about the items he brought. He patted Lin Zhu’s back and spoke from behind his palm, voice muffled but soothing. “You’re staying here longer than I am. I’m heading back tomorrow. Who knows when you’ll return… It’s annoying to get used to new things. Better to have extras.”
Things had been so rushed. Packing Lin Zhu’s daily necessities from the hotel had already taken all the time they had. If Zhong Yao hadn’t hurried the driver nonstop, they might’ve missed the flight entirely.
“We should get another dryer. It’ll definitely be useful.”
Always pragmatic, Zhong Yao mulled over the house inventory. “If not, try the hairdryer. I heard that as long as it doesn’t burn, there’s a good chance it’ll dry…”
Lin Zhu lowered his eyes, voice small. “No need.”
Zhong Yao paused.
The tips of Lin Zhu’s ears were completely red now. He pressed into Zhong Yao’s chest, refusing to look up, and whispered with difficulty, “Your shirt… I brought it.”
