MACRM Chapter 91

Lin Zhu spent the entire afternoon running around outside.

Zhong Yao had gone through a lot of unpleasant matters recently and wasn’t suitable for interviews right away. Lin Zhu himself hadn’t had any spare time either, so the meetings had been delayed until today. Now that he finally had some free time, he decided to meet them all in one go.

They were all there to interview Zhong Yao. Even though everyone understood that, they still had to keep up appearances and avoid seeming too close. Each outlet scheduled their meeting far apart from the others, deliberately avoiding overlap.

Lin Zhu didn’t want the team to gain a reputation for acting like big shots, so he cooperated and met them one by one. By the time he finished, night had already fully fallen.

The planning manager following him around was dizzy with exhaustion and full of admiration.

“Lin-ge, you’re amazing. If it were just me, I definitely couldn’t have made it through all that…”

“This is nothing,” Lin Zhu replied with a smile as he typed on his keyboard. “When I first entered the industry, going a whole day without eating while running around like this was normal.”

“Resources go both ways. If you don’t accept them, they won’t offer them again next time.”

“Still, it’s really not easy.” The planning manager sincerely admired him, then couldn’t resist gossiping. “Lin-ge, did you really enter the industry because of Zhong-laoshi?”

Lin Zhu nodded openly. “Yes. Why?”

The planning manager quickly waved his hands. “Nothing, nothing! It’s just that recently there’s been rumors on the forums saying you originally planned to enter the industry as an actor yourself. But because of the scandal when Zhong-laoshi was slandered back then, you resolutely gave up your dream and became an agent instead…”

Lin Zhu raised an eyebrow and gently pushed his laptop aside.

The planning manager hurried to reassure him. “It’s really nothing bad! It’s just that on the CP forums they treat it as ‘sugar’ to ship. They think the story is half-angsty, half-sweet and very compelling, so they’ve written lots of fanfiction about it!”

He scratched his head sheepishly. “We were just curious whether the ‘sugar’ was actually real…”

Lin Zhu laughed softly and pulled his laptop back to continue working. “You believe that? Did the forums also say that Zhong-laoshi saved my life and I repaid him by devoting myself to him?”

The planning manager was stunned. “How did you know?!”

“That’s practically the standard fanfic setting now,” he said. “But that’s way too outrageous. We just treat it like a novel. Surely that can’t actually be true…”

Lin Zhu was momentarily speechless. He raised his brows, typed the final few lines, and closed his laptop.

The car stopped at the hotel entrance. Lin Zhu unbuckled his seatbelt and gathered his things.

“What you said earlier… roughly the same story, but the motivation’s wrong.”

It was late, and the wind was already cold enough that clothes barely blocked it. Lin Zhu pulled up his collar and wrapped his scarf tighter.

“Stop adding unnecessary drama to our lives. There was no ‘giving up my dream.’”

The planning manager looked confused.

“Didn’t you notice how much effort it took for me to finally hold my dream in my arms?”

Lin Zhu’s face heated slightly. After steeling himself, he coughed lightly.

“A perfectly good inspirational sweet story? Just hurry up and write the romance scenes. Why are you adding knives for no reason…”

“!!”

The planning manager, suddenly fed “sugar” by the real person himself, was so excited he almost dropped his phone under the seat.

“Lin-laoshi, can we write this on the forum?! We’ll post it anonymously as a little story! Nobody will know! Lin-ge! Lin-laoshi—!”

Lin Zhu’s ears burned. Pulling his scarf higher, he quickly walked into the hotel.

The planning manager was overjoyed and completely forgot to ask what roles Lin Zhu had acted in back then. Instead, he rushed onto the forum under a disguised account.

—

Having taken this route so often lately, Lin Zhu almost instinctively headed toward the room he shared with Zhong Yao once he reached the floor.

Holding the room card, he hesitated for a moment. In the end, he didn’t go in and instead turned toward the newly booked room.

Since he’d be staying alone, he might as well get used to it.

Zhong Yao had a night shoot today and hadn’t returned yet. Lin Zhu sent him a few messages and specially asked the assistant to order late-night snacks for him. Then he curled up on the bed with his laptop and began reviewing the interview question drafts submitted by the media outlets.

Times had changed. The questions in the drafts were polite and comprehensive, nothing like the sharp, vicious, knife-like interrogations from three years ago.

Lin Zhu scanned the list and picked out several outlets that he remembered had deliberately made things difficult for Zhong Yao back then. He tossed those to the planning manager with instructions to politely decline them, then organized the remaining questions into a simple list.

“Reject them all? Some of those are pretty big outlets, it’s a shame to turn them down…”

The planning manager, unaware of the past situation, sounded regretful. “If the conditions aren’t right, we could try negotiating again?”

“Reject them,” Lin Zhu said firmly. “There’s nothing to negotiate. Let them figure out why themselves.”

Zhong Yao already had enough exposure. These interviews weren’t necessary; accepting them would only be icing on the cake.

Lin Zhu had the confidence to make that call. Zhong Yao didn’t need to bow his head to media outlets that had once been arrogant and now suddenly fawning.

This wasn’t the first time the planning manager had seen Lin Zhu act like this. Guessing the reason vaguely, he nodded. “Alright, we’ll find a way to decline them.”

The two of them had been running around all day, meeting people in teahouses and cafés. They had drunk so much water they were practically full, barely eating anything. Remembering that Lin Zhu had been sick just a few days ago, the planning manager worried:

“Lin-ge, eat something and rest for a bit. Otherwise when Zhong-laoshi gets back he’ll worry again…”

Lin Zhu smiled. “Got it. Go stay with Zhong-laoshi. I’ll give you all a day off tomorrow.”

At this time of year, after midnight the cold could freeze someone in place. Night shoots had to be rushed. Zhong Yao was probably still filming.

Lin Zhu had been out all afternoon and was already struggling with fatigue. If he forced himself to go to the set half-asleep, it would only make Zhong Yao worry more.

Used to taking care of others, Lin Zhu carefully reminded the planning manager to bring hand warmers, a hot water bag, strong tea, and a thermos.

Still uneasy, he added, “Red date and goji berry tea nourishes qi, right? I heard it warms the stomach in winter. Brew a cup for Zhong-laoshi, he likes these healthy things.”

The planning manager didn’t dare waste the agent’s thoughtful instructions and wrote everything down in a notebook.

“You should also take care of yourself. Don’t only think about Zhong-laoshi. We’ve got things covered here.”

The team was reliable when it came to this sort of thing. Lin Zhu agreed, gave a few more instructions, and hung up.

Fatigue was settling into his body. Lin Zhu closed his laptop, took a quick hot shower, then collapsed onto the bed and relaxed his mind.

Memories quietly surfaced.

Those media outlets that had once attacked Zhong Yao didn’t actually need to be met today. Lin Zhu had met them all equally. Not only to avoid giving anyone grounds for complaint, but also to uncover what had happened back then.

Among the people he met today were reporters and editors who had once shared a table with Song Tianlang.

These memories were never pleasant, but they couldn’t be ignored. If the truth from back then really lay hidden in their subconscious…

Lin Zhu frowned and focused his mind amid the unfamiliar surroundings.

After crossing the psychological barrier in his heart, his control over these subconscious readings had improved. He could now take initiative, consciously piecing together and comparing the memories he had gathered.

Combined together, their perspectives and memories almost formed a complete chain of events. It probably wouldn’t be long before the entire truth was sorted out.

Curled under the blankets, Lin Zhu turned over several times. Finally, he got up, took the key from his pocket, gripped it gently in his hand, lay back down again, and closed his eyes.

…

On set, Zhong Yao took the thermos cup and sat down in the specially designated rest area, holding the script Jin Zhenbo had returned to him, and let out his three hundred and eighteenth sigh of the day.

“Lin-laoshi must really be tired, otherwise he would definitely have come personally!”

The planning manager was encountering a situation like this for the first time. Urged by the entire main crew to come and coax him, they racked their brains. “When we went out today, he kept mentioning you!”

The planning manager wanted to relay Lin Zhu’s words, but under the burning, expectant gazes of everyone around, they couldn’t bring themselves to say them. They could only try a roundabout approach. “Look! This thermos cup, the hand warmer, all that stuff, plus the late-night meal — they were all sent by Lin-laoshi for us to bring…”

Zhong Yao held the hand warmer, rubbing it gently between his palms, and nodded silently.

planning manager: “……”

The planning manager felt certain they had missed some important plot development and cautiously lowered their voice. “Zhong-laoshi, did you argue with Lin-laoshi? Did something happen between you two? Should we try to mediate and persuade him not to stay angry?”

The planning manager had read fanfiction for years and was very confident about matters like this. “Don’t worry. Even if Lin-laoshi is upset with you, that’s normal. Families quarrel all the time, fight at the head of the bed and make up at the foot of it. Just coax him a little and it’ll be fine…”

But now there wasn’t even a bed.

Zhong Yao felt very sad and shook his head. “It’s because I didn’t do well enough. It’s not Lin-laoshi’s fault.”

Zhong Yao wanted to send Lin Zhu a few more messages. But hearing from the planning manager that the agent was probably already asleep, he slowly put the phone he had picked up back down and let out a very soft sigh.

Zhong Yao’s presence was usually very strong. When he lost his spirits today, everyone realized their usual worries had been exaggerated. Yet they still formed a loose circle nearby, full of concern.

Jin Zhenbo suffered the 319th round of accusing stares from the core production staff. Furious but unable to explain, he angrily carried his cup and moved somewhere else.

In fairness, today’s filming had actually gone very smoothly.

Zhong Yao remained as professional as ever. His off-camera mood had not affected his performance once the camera rolled, and he completed today’s scenes flawlessly. Only a few distant palace shots for other actors still needed to be filmed. And once those were done, they could officially wrap for the day.

Night shoots were always exhausting. Since filming would continue early the next morning, staff members without tasks were technically free to leave first.

The reason so many people stayed was simple: they were dying of curiosity about Zhong Yao’s unusually obvious abnormal behavior today.

The production assistant had only just relaxed for the day, but now his worries rose again. Holding his teacup, he lectured Jin Zhenbo disapprovingly. “Why insist on breaking up a pair of lovebirds? What’s wrong with young people being close? Zhong Yao has been alone for so many years, how hard is it to have someone he’s close to?”

The supervising producer chimed in, “Only Zhong-laoshi could keep working normally in this kind of emotional state. If it were another lead actor, tonight’s scenes would probably be ruined.”

Production assistant: “You just have to bully people! Just because you’re going through menopause doesn’t mean others can’t be in youth!”

The assistant director didn’t dare speak. He could only nod repeatedly, carrying the cup of red date and goji berry tea he had just helped brew, circling around to deliver it to Zhong Yao.

“It’s all my fault! All my fault, okay?!” Jin Zhenbo was overwhelmed and finally exploded. “How was I supposed to know their family rules were that strict? Being a single day short wasn’t allowed!”

Aside from Jin Zhenbo and Zhong Yao, no one else knew the details. Hearing this, everyone’s eyes lit up and they instantly crowded around him.

Jin Zhenbo cared about his reputation and couldn’t say more. Grinding his teeth, he snorted. “There’s no logic to it! Their agent is clearly a reasonable person… maybe he’s just overthinking things himself…”

“What happened?”

An elderly actor who had just finished his tea and was waiting for his car walked over wrapped in a military coat, curiously joining the conversation. “Let me see… Director Jin has worked so many years and finally managed to give Zhong Yao a psychological shadow?”

Jin Zhenbo was unable to defend himself and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh.

This elderly actor had always had a good temper. He’s kind, gentle, and completely without airs. On set he was the best at comforting people. Everyone’s eyes brightened, and they quickly made way for him.

The elderly actor sat beside Zhong Yao and patted his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Did you and your agent have a disagreement?”

He was here to mediate, so he didn’t let Zhong Yao stand to speak and instead sat beside him. “An agent like yours is one in a hundred. You should cherish him even more. Lowering your pride to coax him isn’t a big deal.”

The old actor spoke from experience. “But you have to coax him in the right way. Otherwise it’s wasted effort. What does he like? What does he want? Has he ever given you any strong hints?”

Zhong Yao’s heart stirred, but he felt that discussing such things with a senior was too inappropriate. He coughed lightly, the tips of his ears turning slightly red.

Zhong Yao: “Yes… I want to satisfy him as soon as possible, but some things delayed it.”

The elderly actor laughed heartily. “Isn’t that simple then? Hurry up and make it up to him. What’s there to worry about?”

Zhong Yao opened his mouth to speak when Jin Zhenbo suddenly coughed heavily twice.

Zhong Yao: “……”

Zhong Yao still felt very sad. He picked up the red date and goji berry tea Lin Zhu had told someone to prepare for him and took a sip. “Director Jin thinks the problem isn’t there. He says I’m overthinking.”

The elderly actor looked up curiously at Director Jin. “Then where is the problem?”

“Couldn’t it be because he tells everyone every day about his agent?!”

Jin Zhenbo had never understood how the blame had suddenly fallen on him. Embarrassed and furious, he burst out, “The way he keeps talking about him leaves their agent with absolutely no privacy! The whole crew knows their agent is smart, sensible, lively, and adorable, but because he signed a contract of servitude he’s basically ‘look all you want but not for sale’!”

Jin Zhenbo was practically distorted with anger. “Isn’t that irritating?! Why does it have to be about that? Throwing accusations around with no evidence—”

“Why is everyone gathered here? What’s so lively?”

The middle-aged actor who had been filming the last pick-up shot finally wrapped his scene. Hearing the noise, he walked over excitedly, obliviously pushing through the crowd and draping an arm over Zhong Yao’s shoulder to peer into his cup. “Oh! Red dates and goji berries. Your agent gave you this again?”

Zhong Yao brightened a little and tugged the corner of his mouth into a faint smile as he nodded.

The two had filmed together many times and were very familiar. The middle-aged actor patted his shoulder without ceremony. “Got any more? Give me a pack. They say this stuff boosts kidney function and virility, drink it and your fire really goes up…”

Zhong Yao’s hand trembled slightly, and he set the cup down.

Jin Zhenbo: “……”

Jin Zhenbo silently walked away.

—

Back at the hotel, Lin Zhu had almost pieced together everything he knew into a complete chain. In the cold night air, he turned over in bed and forced his stiff body to sit up.

Lin Zhu closed his eyes, suppressing the surge of hostility rising in his chest. Feeling around, he picked up the key with the keychain and slowly rubbed it between his fingers.

In the end… it turned out to be this simple.

A media outlet eager to fabricate a big news story and create buzz had encountered an artist who wanted to snatch a role and push out a rival. The two sides hit it off instantly, each taking what they wanted and forcibly producing an innocent scapegoat.

Not a single one of those scandals had been true. And there was indeed still a ticking time bomb, still held tightly in the hands of Song Tianlang and his agent.

The light in Lin Zhu’s eyes turned cold. Calculating the timing, he exhaled softly and sat up straighter, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

Filming had already passed the halfway point and was expected to wrap by the end of the year. Taking time to return and accept a variety show… would be the perfect opportunity to quietly remove the people who needed to be cleaned out.

Sooner or later he would have to personally return to Beijing. Since nothing much was happening lately, going back within the next few days would work just fine.

Lin Zhu turned on the light, found the air conditioner remote, and raised the temperature by a degree. Just as he was considering whether to return within the next few days, the phone on the table suddenly began to vibrate.

Lin Zhu glanced at the caller ID, startled, and answered. “Director Jin? Is something wrong? What happened to Zhong-laoshi?”

“Zhong Yao is fine.”

Jin Zhenbo had never felt so guilty in his life. Forcing the words out one by one, he said, “You- you mustn’t dislike Zhong Yao. Even though he’s a bit older, he… truly likes you.”

Lin Zhu was bewildered. “Huh?”

“Don’t interrupt, listen to me.”

Grinding his teeth, Jin Zhenbo continued his awkward attempt at mediation. “Really. I-I can testify for him. He really wants… he… really wants to have sex with you…”