For the first time, Zhong Yao’s usually cooperative and easygoing team disagreed with the production over how to handle the incident.
“There’s no room for discussion. The trending topic is going up.”
Having relaxed only after checking on Zhong Yao, Lin Zhu turned his blade toward Li Yijie. “Our PR team has plenty of experience handling trending topics. No need for your team to worry. We can take care of it.”
The assistant director was sweating nervously. “Is that really appropriate? What if it blows up—”
“We won’t say anything bad about Li-laoshi. Just report the facts, saying that this young actor dedicated to his role, refuses a stunt double, accidentally falls from a horse. Add a few photos, that’s all.”
Lin Zhu was patient and unhurried. “Nothing serious happened. Safety measures were in place. The fans won’t make trouble.”
The production only wanted to protect itself. Lin Zhu had no intention of causing trouble for Jin Zhenbo, but he had no plans to let Li Yijie off either. He smiled politely at the other agent. “We’ll generate some traffic for you. No extra charge. Sound good?”
Li Yijie’s agent’s face turned pale. This time they were clearly at fault. Glancing at Li Yijie, who still looked shaken out of his wits, he forced himself to apologize. “It was our mistake. If Zhong-laoshi needs a medical check, we’ll cover everything. Compensation is negotiable…”
Lin Zhu raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Understanding dawned on Li Yijie’s agent. He looked around the set, and whatever hope he had left completely vanished.
“Lin-laoshi…” he began stiffly.
They were both agents. It wasn’t hard to see the backup plan.
After yesterday’s incident, the production certainly wouldn’t dare hire another stunt double to provoke Young Master Li’s temper. The set had taken three or four hours to build. The tents and flags couldn’t stay up overnight. There were thousands of extras. One day of shooting cost more than a day’s pay for the lead actors. Li Yijie clearly couldn’t be relied on to perform the scene himself. If Lin Zhu refused to help, all that money would go down the drain.
Li Yijie’s agent didn’t know how many people were on Lin Zhu’s team, but judging from how often Zhong Yao had dominated trending searches before, their ability to generate traffic was unquestionable.
Li Yijie had long been criticized for acting like a diva on set and not taking his roles seriously. If this kind of trending topic really blew up, his fans might not explode, but they would certainly spread it everywhere.
If Lin Zhu could push “Young Actor Dedicated to His Role” onto the trending list, which was a claim even they didn’t believe, he could just as easily push “Big-Name Idol Halts Production, Paralyzing Filming Progress.”
Separately, either topic might be manageable. Together, it would be a public execution.
Having never believed that Zhong Yao’s frequent trending appearances were accidental, Li Yijie’s agent inwardly groaned, palms damp with sweat. Swallowing his pride, he said, “Please, Lin-laoshi… help stand in. As for the price, it’s negotiable…”
Lin Zhu smiled pleasantly. “We set the price? You should know we’ve been short on funds lately. Even the agent has to come out and support the actor…”
After gathering his available funds and adding the annual dividends his family insisted on giving him, he was still slightly short of replacing that producer’s investment.
Li Yijie’s agent had no idea what he was thinking. Seeing him relent, he hurriedly agreed, “No problem! Whatever the amount!”
Money that falls from the sky shouldn’t be refused. Lin Zhu called over the planner and patted him on the shoulder. “Stunt double fee, delay compensation, emotional distress, on-site emergency makeup… Help Li-laoshi calculate and give us a number.”
Without lingering, Lin Zhu turned to find the stylist.
The planner understood at once. Smiling amicably at Li Yijie’s agent, he pulled out the calculator he always carried.
Half an hour later, filming resumed.
Lin Zhu fed a handful of corn kernels to the white horse that had performed so well, brushed its coat carefully, and, without assistance from the trainer, mounted smoothly.
His build was similar to Li Yijie’s. Since his face wouldn’t be shown, he only needed light makeup and a wig. Dressed in the Crown Prince’s dragon-hunt attire, he lightly pressed his heels to the horse’s belly, letting it trot a couple of laps to adjust.
The white horse was affectionate with him, snorting happily and running light and steady.
With a tug on the reins, Lin Zhu passed by the finally composed Li Yijie. A flicker of coldness flashed through his eyes.
There was, of course, more to come.
Just pushing a trending topic for the sake of pride would be an insult to their PR team’s fluorescent mousepads.
Li Yijie had dared to scheme against Zhong Yao. Whatever the reason, this matter was never going to end easily.
Lin Zhu turned his gaze away and focused on the scene at hand.
He had to perform this scene properly first.
The crew adjusted positions again, resetting cameras and tracks.
Lin Zhu galloped in from afar. Zhong Yao guided his horse close at the right moment, fell from his mount while shielding from an arrow, and rolled aside to avoid the chaotic hooves—
In the next instant, Lin Zhu wrapped one arm around the horse’s neck, slid halfway down its side, and reached out to pull Zhong Yao up.
Without help from the wire team, their eyes met. Zhong Yao firmly grasped his hand, used the leverage to vault onto the horse behind him, pulled him tight into his arms, seized the reins, and gave a sharp command.
The white horse neighed and surged forward along the designated path, galloping full speed as dust billowed behind.
There was a brief silence at the sidelines before cheers erupted.
The assistant director wiped sweat from his forehead, exhilarated. “Good—!”
Zhong Yao smiled faintly, reined the horse in, turned it around, and circled back at an easy pace.
Held in his arms, Lin Zhu’s heart pounded fast. Looking up into those dark eyes filled with gentle amusement, he couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile as well.
The assistant director hurried over, overjoyed. “Wonderful, wonderful… This is exactly how we wanted it!”
In the original script, the Crown Prince was meant to pull the Grand Tutor onto the horse. Fearing it would be too difficult for the actors, they had changed it to a simpler version using wire assistance.
At this point in the story, the two hadn’t yet turned against each other. This shot captured the complete trust of entrusting one’s life to the other. Cutting it had been a real pity. The directing team had regretted it for a long time, never expecting Zhong Yao and Lin Zhu to recreate it so perfectly.
The assistant director beamed. “This segment needs exactly this kind of mutual support. It’s perfect! Thank you both. Let’s do a few more takes from different angles, add a close-up of the hands, and we’ll be good to go…”
Lin Zhu dismounted, took a towel to wipe the sweat from his face, but didn’t immediately respond to the assistant director.
He walked through the crowd, his expression calm as he looked at Li Yijie. The coldness in his eyes deepened.
“What are you trying to do?”
Under his gaze, Li Yijie felt inexplicably guilty and took a step back. “I’m warning you, there are people everywhere. Don’t try anything! You—”
Still in costume, draped in the flamboyant dragon-embroidered robe, Lin Zhu slowly flexed the two-foot-long leather riding crop in his hand and let out a soft sigh. “Sometimes I really think… being an agent is quite troublesome.”
Tilting his head slightly, he asked the planner, “Is the trending topic done?”
The planning manager nodded. “All done. They picked the photos themselves. ‘Young actor dedicated to his role, falls from horse on set.’ There wasn’t much big news today, so PR had time to push it hard. It’s number one on trending. Pretty lively.”
Lin Zhu nodded. “And the money?”
The planning manager’s eyes shone. He had never made this much off a single incident before. “Paid! Their team really has money. We checked in Beijing, it’s already been transferred.”
Satisfied, Lin Zhu put away the riding crop and returned to a polite, businesslike tone. “Li-laoshi… here’s an opportunity. Withdraw from the production.”
Li Yijie’s agent suddenly understood what was happening, his face turning deathly pale.
Li Yijie, still confused, stared wide-eyed. “Withdraw? Why should I withdraw? You won’t let me use a stunt double? I’ve already paid you! You extorted 500k and it’s still not enough? I’ve never used a stunt double that cost half a million! You—”
“500k?” Lin Zhu raised his brows in mild surprise and glanced at the planning manager.
He had set the target at one hundred thousand before mounting the horse… It seemed their team’s mysterious inflation when it came to numbers was actually useful.
With five hundred thousand in hand, there was even less to worry about. Lin Zhu did a quick mental calculation and nodded. “The trending topic is already up. Perfect timing! You can release an official statement about a foot injury forcing you to leave the cast. Fans won’t explode, you can ride the momentum for another wave of publicity, and the production can continue peacefully.”
His expression gradually cooled. “Or— would you prefer a trending topic about a young actor dissatisfied with his billing maliciously urging a horse to injure someone?”
Lin Zhu narrowed his eyes and met Li Yijie’s gaze directly. “If pushing the trending topic to send you off didn’t take time, do you think I would’ve let you sit on the ground crying for that long?”
At first, he hadn’t been certain whether Li Yijie was targeting him or Zhong Yao. Now there was no doubt.
If that hoof had really come down, even if Zhong Yao didn’t lose the use of an arm entirely, he wouldn’t have been able to continue filming in the short term. And injuries like that took a long time to heal.
If Li Yijie hadn’t been reckless enough to try something so stupid against Zhong Yao, Lin Zhu wouldn’t have dipped into the family funds before even finishing his long-term plan.
Li Yijie panicked. “You—you’re talking nonsense!”
Already guilty, he grew more uneasy under Lin Zhu’s gaze. Unable to think of a proper rebuttal, he lashed out blindly. “Do you have evidence? Who would believe you? Just your baseless accusations! Ridiculous—”
Before he could finish, Lin Zhu tilted his head slightly, a puzzled look flashing in his eyes.
As soon as his gaze shifted, the discomfort of feeling exposed eased. Li Yijie instinctively stepped back two paces.
Lin Zhu rubbed his temple and exhaled softly. “Forget it. One thing at a time…”
He refocused, brushing aside what he had just gleaned, and stepped closer, leaning toward Li Yijie’s ear. “You’re right. I don’t have evidence about that. But there is some evidence about you and your Mr. Zhang. At his house. In the parking garage. In the lounge at Runyi Club—”
“Shut up!”
Li Yijie’s face drained of color. He stared at him in horror. “What exactly do you do? Where did you get those? You—”
Realizing he had said too much, he stopped abruptly.
Such matters were hardly secrets within the industry, but if exposed publicly, the damage to one’s reputation would be devastating.
Li Yijie went ashen. His agent hurried over, voice low and stern. “Mr. Lin… enough is enough. Leave some room for each other. Aren’t you afraid of ruining your own future like this?”
Having already grasped the situation, the agent no longer bothered being polite. “Mr. Zhang is an investor in this film. If your slander reaches him and he pulls funding, that won’t benefit anyone.”
The assistant director, who had only just begun to relax, tensed again. Before he could speak, Lin Zhu slipped a card into his hand. “Send Director Jin a message. It should still be short by four or five hundred thousand. I’ll borrow a bit from home and make up the rest tomorrow.”
Li Yijie’s agent’s heart skipped a beat. Remembering certain rumors circulating in Beijing, his expression darkened rapidly.
There were always rumors in this industry, most dismissed as jokes. No one truly believed that the son of a billionaire would leave his wealth untouched and instead toil as an agent in show business.
The logo on that black-and-gold card alone was enough to intimidate anyone in the know. There was no point staying any longer.
Gritting his teeth, the agent dragged Li Yijie away. Behind them, Lin Zhu spoke again calmly. “Wait.”
The agent paused, turning back with a flicker of hope.
Lin Zhu explained patiently, as though correcting a child. “About what you said. My future? My future is with Zhong-laoshi. No need to worry about me.”
“I won’t manage anyone else. There won’t be any other artists. My contract with Zhong-laoshi is for seventy years. As long as he keeps acting, I’ll be his agent.”
Li Yijie’s agent: “……”
“Would you like to see the contract?” Lin Zhu added. “I have a copy with me—”
Overwhelmed with frustration, the agent said nothing more and hurried Li Yijie out of the crowd, escorting the team into their van.
Once they left, the set remained eerily quiet.
Actors driving away their stunt doubles was common. Stunt doubles driving away actors was not. An actor had just been forced out of the production on the spot with money. Director Jin wasn’t present, and the assistant director clutched the black-and-gold card nervously, unsure whether he should bow to the new investor. “Lin, Lin-laoshi…”
“You don’t have to call me that,” Lin Zhu said lightly. “Didn’t you say we need a few more takes? Let’s start now. The sun will shift soon and the lighting will change.”
The assistant director nodded hurriedly and ventured, “Since Li-laoshi probably won’t keep the role… how about you—”
“I don’t want it.”
Lin Zhu was blunt. “A character who turns ungrateful and distrusts the person who saved his life isn’t worth playing. Find someone with decent acting skills to show his face. I’ll continue shooting the stunt scenes.”
He truly disliked the Crown Prince’s role. He had only agreed to stand in because this segment still showed the Prince and Zhong Yao’s character supporting each other. As for the later scenes, anyone else could take them. He hadn’t even read that far in detail.
The assistant director swallowed the rest of his suggestion and hurried off to call Jin Zhenbo.
Lin Zhu remained where he was, exhaling slowly.
The staff, intimidated by his decisiveness, avoided him. A small empty space formed around him.
He flexed his wrists and tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth.
He had touched the family money after all.
There hadn’t really been an irreconcilable knot, just the stubborn pride he had clung to since youth. Unless absolutely necessary, he had never wanted to touch the steadily increasing sums transferred into his name each year. Money that blurred the line between compensation and atonement.
But this time, Li Yijie had crossed a line.
He had tried to cripple Zhong Yao.
If Li Yijie had targeted him instead, tried to blacklist him, ruin his reputation, even cripple him, he wouldn’t have cared. But targeting Zhong Yao meant he couldn’t be allowed to remain.
Using money so bluntly wasn’t a good look. He hadn’t intended to resort to such extreme measures, but the way people were now avoiding him was hardly unexpected.
No one had ever really dared to cross him. Now they were just avoiding him for a different reason.
Lin Zhu didn’t mind. He straightened his clothes and turned to head back to the stylist—
Only to walk straight into a familiar chest.
Zhong Yao wrapped an arm around him, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “Nicely done just now. You remembered to mention our contract.”
Lin Zhu froze, recalling his earlier words, and couldn’t help a crooked smile. “I didn’t want to do push-ups. I know I was wrong…”
Zhong Yao lowered his gaze at him, brows lifting slightly. “You really know?”
Every time he asked like that, there was a trap. Lin Zhu hesitated, unsure whether to nod, when Zhong Yao’s eyes softened with amusement. He ruffled his hair. “You brought the contract copy. Did you read it carefully?”
Lin Zhu blinked.
As someone who never read terms and conditions, he had carried the contract purely to show off. Reviewing Zhong Yao’s work opportunities already took enough effort. If Zhong Yao had slipped in a clause selling him body and soul, he would probably have run laps in celebration.
But from the way Zhong Yao was speaking… there was clearly something in it he hadn’t noticed.
The contract was on him. He reached toward the shirt beneath his hunting robe—
Zhong Yao gently stopped his hand.
Warm fingers covered his cool skin. Lin Zhu looked up.
In costume, Zhong Yao’s ink-black hair was tied neatly with a jade hairpin. The harshness carved by years of hardship had softened; his features were gentle, his gaze warm. Dressed in a gold-and-silver woven hunting robe, he looked at him with a faint smile.
As though these twelve years… had changed nothing at all.
Lin Zhu’s nose stung unexpectedly. He blinked hard. “Ge…”
“No need to look. I’ll tell you.”
Zhong Yao smiled, lowering his hand. “The contract says any money the agent spends will be reimbursed by the studio owner. Which is me.”
He tapped Lin Zhu lightly on the nose and led him back toward the set. “If I remember correctly, total investment is 230 million. Director Jin put in 80 million. The producer contributed the remaining 150 million… How much did you put in?”
Lin Zhu answered instinctively, dazed. “Eighty million…”
The other seventy million was from his family. He had calculated carefully—if he went home to help more and made a few rounds in the stock market, he could pay it back before long.
The drama wouldn’t flop. Once it aired on television, the investment would gradually return.
He had intended to borrow from his older brother, but his brother’s funds were tight. So he had used part of the family’s money instead…
Walking beside him, his racing heart slowly steadied.
As long as he repaid it quickly… his parents probably wouldn’t use it as an excuse to pressure him to come home.
He drew a breath to speak, but Zhong Yao continued calmly.
“The 80 million you put in is the majority. I can’t reimburse that part… I’ll treat it as borrowing from you and repay it one drama at a time.”
He smiled and stopped walking. “As for the other 70 million, I’ll reimburse that first. Let’s count it as a joint investment.”
Lin Zhu’s eyes burned. His voice turned hoarse. “Ge—”
He still needed a makeup touch-up. Zhong Yao guided him into a quiet corner and lightly touched his lips. “By the way, you haven’t told me. Why was Li Yijie targeting me? What did I do?”
It might have been better if he hadn’t asked. At the question, Lin Zhu’s expression turned strange, and the moisture in his eyes vanished.
He opened his mouth, looking at Zhong Yao. He was tall, sharp-featured, more than capable of flipping investors over with one hand. The agent coughed lightly.
“I think he believed… that his sugar daddy was planning to make a move on you.”
