edit: changed “Abota” to “Albert”. I would say that “Alberta” is more… appropriate (like, sounding-wise), but he’s a man so “Albert” it is. Sorry about that, I seriously did not know how to translate Western name in Chinese…
Lin Zhu was slightly surprised and stopped, looking up.
“Mr. Muller, you’ve misunderstood.”
Seeing that the other party was about to offend a guest of the director, the assistant quickly stepped forward to explain: “This is—”
“I don’t want to know who he is!” David Muller interrupted sharply. “Are you his agent? Then take him away right now. Director Marlensius’s crew doesn’t need this kind of kid who isn’t even fully grown…”
Lin Zhu raised his brows, suddenly feeling a bit amused, and stopped the assistant who was about to continue explaining.
Lin Zhu: “Mr. Muller?”
David Muller had already assumed he was here to compete for a role. He shot him a cold glance and was about to speak, but Lin Zhu had already smiled and extended his hand first.
Lin Zhu was polite and composed. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zhong Yao’s agent.”
Muller: “……”
Muller: “?!”
The moment he clearly caught that Chinese name, David Muller’s face darkened instantly. Such names had cast a shadow over him for two full years.
Lin Zhu hadn’t seen Zhong Yao all day. Settling for second best, he calmly met Muller’s gaze and kindly guided his subconscious. “I’ve heard of you. You’ve worked with Mr. Zhong in many musicals before, right?”
Muller: “……”
He had indeed performed on stage with Zhong Yao many times. Unfortunately, aside from the first few occasions, he had been completely overshadowed by that exceptionally talented Chinese actor, forced to give up roles that had once been practically guaranteed to him and barely manage to play minor parts with only a few lines.
The American film industry places particular importance on actors with Broadway experience. He couldn’t bring himself to quit performing, yet he couldn’t swallow his resentment either. Several times, both on and off stage, he had deliberately made things difficult for Zhong Yao, until he was ultimately banned from performing for a year as a warning.
Muller’s anger surged as he was about to speak, but suddenly met the eyes of the Chinese youth in front of him.
A sense of unease rose in his heart. Instinctively, he looked away and quickly stepped back a few paces.
Lin Zhu raised his brows, feeling a trace of regret.
Under Zhong Yao’s patient guidance, he had already developed quite a few special ways to use this ability.
For example… watching “movies.”
When Zhong Yao went abroad, Lin Zhu had still been busy in China, gathering resources while clearing Zhong Yao’s name. He simply hadn’t had time to go to Broadway to watch his performances, and had always regretted it.
Back then, Muller hadn’t gained any advantage in targeting Zhong Yao. Instead, he ended up getting himself banned for a year. Now that they met again, Lin Zhu had no intention of targeting him further.
Rather… he wanted to watch a live replay of those stage performances. Apart from Muller — who had been so furious that he stared at Zhong Yao the entire time — it would be hard to find a second person like that.
Lin Zhu withdrew his gaze and let out a soft breath.
Muller had backed away too quickly, so he only managed to read a few fragments. But it was probably enough for a good night’s sleep tonight.
He could find another opportunity to meet him again tomorrow.
Having made up his mind, Lin Zhu turned to leave. But Muller, clearly stirred up by the humiliation of those memories, snapped angrily, “Someone! Throw him out! I don’t want to see him here!”
Perhaps the shadow Zhong Yao had left on him was too deep. His voice rose so sharply that everyone turned to look. The building’s security guards were startled and quickly rushed over.
“This Chinese man tried to threaten me! You should—”
Muller’s expression darkened as he was about to order Lin Zhu thrown out of the building. But his gaze swept toward the entrance, and his words abruptly cut off mid-sentence.
His expression changed. He quickly suppressed his anger, signaling his bodyguards and assistant to disperse and make way for the person who had just entered. He stepped forward briskly and extended his hand. “Mr. Albert, long time no see…”
Lin Zhu followed his gaze and immediately recognized the person who had entered.
The casting director of Marlensius’s team.
In the highly developed film industry overseas, casting directors hold connections with almost all talent agencies and are directly responsible for negotiating actors’ contracts and pay. Their authority and status are far higher than their counterparts back home.
If not for the trouble that later broke out at home, preventing him from staying long in Beijing, Lin Song had originally wanted to help him connect more closely with this very Mr. Albert.
Muller put away all his arrogance, greeted Albert respectfully, and seized the chance to speak, “Mr. Albert, this Chinese man—”
Zhong Yao had clearly already returned to China, yet now he had suddenly come back with his agent. It was obvious they were here to compete for a role.
Muller wanted to say more, hoping to persuade Albert to throw them out, but Albert had already noticed Lin Zhu in the crowd. His eyes lit up. “Just a moment, I need to say hello.”
Albert had met Lin Zhu before at a reception in China. He walked over quickly and smiled, patting Lin Zhu’s arm. “Our co-producer has finally decided to leave his gentle haven and come help us?”
Lin Zhu was still confused by his suddenly acquired title, but then he realized the implication of the latter half of the sentence. He coughed lightly, his face heating up in embarrassment.
“Alright, alright, I won’t tease you anymore. You and your lover are truly well matched.”
Albert waved his hand with a smile. “Come on, let’s go up together. Your opinions will be a great reference for our casting decisions. Just as Marlensius says, we’re relying entirely on those eyes of yours.”
Albert patted Lin Zhu on the shoulder, preparing to head upstairs with him. Then, remembering Muller still standing there, he turned slightly. “Mr. Muller, what were you just trying to say to me?”
Muller: “……”
Muller glanced at Lin Zhu, opened his mouth, and forced a smile. “Nothing…”
There might be many producer credits, but most were co-producers in name only. Only those with especially significant contributions, or close ties with the team and producers, could be given the title of co-producer as a mark of distinction.
Unable to understand how Zhong Yao’s agent could hold such an important position, Muller recalled his earlier aggressiveness. His heart pounded, his face turned pale, and he instinctively stepped back.
Albert wasn’t familiar with him, so he only gave a slight nod before turning back to chat with Lin Zhu about giant pandas in China as they entered the elevator together.
“From the look on your face, Zhong didn’t tell you about the co-producer role?”
Albert, experienced in dealing with people, immediately noticed Lin Zhu’s brief confusion earlier and explained with a smile, “He’s been quite worried about you coming this time. He’s practically turned all of Manhattan upside down.”
Lin Zhu was taken aback. His heartbeat quickened involuntarily, and his ears warmed. “I didn’t know…”
“Not surprising. When I was young, I also insisted on giving my lover a surprise,” Albert nodded. “The application materials we asked you to submit last time came with an attachment. It gave us a detailed introduction of you. Zhong’s literary skills are excellent, and I have to say, we were truly moved by that document.”
“The producer already liked you very much,” Albert smiled. “And combined with the outline you submitted and that conversation we had, it made us realize you have unique insights into many aspects of this film…”
He paused, seeing that Lin Zhu was still staring at him without looking away, then laughed helplessly and conceded, “Alright, those reasons alone probably aren’t enough.”
“People in the Broadway circle are very tight-knit. Each of them is a complete theatre fanatic, willing to do anything.”
Albert shrugged and said frankly, “They have several revival productions next year. They weren’t satisfied with anyone else. They insisted on having Zhong return to perform.”
“Zhong’s condition was that his agent must not have any bad impression of this city.”
Albert: “Those guys thought about it for several days, and in the end decided to make you a co-producer. It was the best way to make sure you wouldn’t feel slighted…”
Lin Zhu slowly slipped his hand into his pocket, quietly rubbing the keychain. His chest felt so warm he couldn’t speak.
Zhong Yao… hadn’t told him anything.
Submitting those materials had been quite a few days ago. Since he struggled with writing in English, he had hurriedly asked Zhong Yao for help. He hadn’t even looked closely afterward before packaging the documents and sending them to the team.
Had Zhong Yao started preparing all this back then?
Zhong Yao had praised him in English? How had he done it? Could he see it?
If only he hadn’t been too embarrassed and run off in a hurry while packing his luggage.
Lin Zhu pressed a hand against his rapidly beating heart and took a soft breath.
Lin Zhu started missing Zhong Yao again.
It was still the middle of the night back home, so he couldn’t disturb Zhong Yao’s rest… Could he maybe hold a meeting for those PR and publicity staff who stayed up all night, and tell them his own story of chasing a star?
Being in the situation himself, Lin Zhu now increasingly understood Zhong Yao’s urge to talk to others about his feelings.
Albert didn’t know what he was thinking, but guessed most of it, and thoughtfully didn’t disturb him further. He went upstairs with him back to the studio.
The auditions were held in separate empty rooms, with the core members of the production team reviewing everything in front of the monitors. By the time Lin Zhu arrived, four or five white extras had already been interviewed.
The story had not yet been finalized. The outline Lin Zhu submitted was only a first draft, with many vague details that still needed repeated refinement. As soon as the screenwriter saw him, his eyes lit up and he immediately dragged him aside.
Lin Zhu wasn’t particularly skilled at crafting stories, but his understanding of mind-reading was exceptionally deep. Compared to others observing it from the outside, he grasped it far more thoroughly, and from time to time would come up with a line that sparked sudden inspiration.
At first it was just the screenwriter discussing with him, but later the director and producer joined in as well. Everyone brainstormed together, and finally settled on the main storyline. When they looked up again, it was already evening.
“As expected, discussing it in person works much better.”
The producer let out a satisfied breath, thumped his back, and smiled at Lin Zhu. “You only arrived in New York last night, right? Jet lag isn’t easy to adjust. Don’t overwork yourself today. Go back and get a good night’s sleep. There’s plenty to do tomorrow.”
Just now, Lin Zhu hadn’t been able to resist and had finished watching those clips while the director and assistant director were arguing fiercely. He was still distracted with regret when he came back to himself and smiled. “It’s fine. I rested well last night.”
It was rare to sleep well on the first night of an international trip. The producer raised his brows, about to ask which hotel Lin Zhu was staying at, when Albert leaned over and whispered a few words to him.
The producer’s eyes widened, a meaningful smile gradually appearing. He turned back and began whispering with Albert.
Lin Zhu: “……”
He had the feeling there was something he still didn’t know.
Unable to resist, Lin Zhu leaned in slightly to listen, but the two immediately stopped talking. He only vaguely caught words like “Chinese” and “romantic.”
Meeting the producer’s smiling gaze, Lin Zhu clenched his keychain, but suppressed the urge to read what was going on.
If they weren’t telling him, then maybe… it was another surprise Zhong Yao had prepared for him.
Since it was a surprise, it should be left with some suspense, to be revealed at the right time.
Just thinking about Zhong Yao worrying over these things for him back home made Lin Zhu’s chest feel warm, leaving no room for anything else. He quietly felt happy for a while, rubbing his slightly flushed ears.
It was morning back home now. Zhong Yao should be awake.
It was probably… about time to head back.
Unable to resist wanting to see Zhong Yao, Lin Zhu didn’t stay longer. Seeing that there was nothing else for him to do, he informed everyone, packed up his things, and prepared to return to the hotel to say good morning to Zhong Yao.
Word spread quickly, and everyone soon learned about his deep relationship with his lover back home. They reached a subtle understanding and didn’t try to keep him, instead having the assistant escort him downstairs.
As soon as Lin Zhu stepped out of the elevator, before he could leave, he ran straight into David Muller, who had returned.
Lin Zhu raised his brows and stopped.
Muller hadn’t shown up for the audition all day. He had thought the man had rescheduled for tomorrow, but it turned out he had been avoiding him the entire time.
With such a high-threshold production team, anyone who secured a role likely had some unknown connections. Most likely someone inside had tipped Muller off that Lin Zhu had left, which was why he dared to come back so openly.
Unfortunately, he came back too soon… and ran right into him.
Having learned his lesson, Muller didn’t dare provoke him again. He took a deep breath and forced himself to yield. “I’m very sorry about what happened today. Mr. Lin, I will compensate you for my offense…”
Seeing Muller’s drastically changed attitude, Lin Zhu was momentarily speechless, then smiled kindly. “Mr. Muller, please rest assured. I won’t interfere with the crew’s casting.”
Since he had walked right into him… then he couldn’t blame him.
Lin Zhu had been worried about not having enough “material.” Looking at Muller, who visibly relaxed after hearing his assurance, he spoke amicably, “After all, my main job is still being an agent. As an agent, my understanding of Mr. Zhong’s past three years is limited. I’d like to take a few minutes of your time to talk about him.”
Worried that the timing of his memory adjustment might not be precise, Lin Zhu added deliberately, “For example, your experiences with him on Broadway…”
Muller: “……”
Muller relived the shadow Zhong Yao had left on him once again. Gritting his teeth, he forced out a few compliments about Zhong Yao before quickly slipping into the elevator.
After returning to the hotel, Lin Zhu ordered himself some Chinese food.
The studio only provided standard Western meals, which were hard for him to get used to at first. Lin Zhu wasn’t very sleepy, but he was genuinely hungry.
While waiting for the food, Lin Zhu sent a few messages to Zhong Yao, and soon received a voice call request from him.
Seeing the name on the screen, Lin Zhu couldn’t help but smile. After a whole day of rushing about, his mind settled completely even before he consciously realized it.
Holding his phone, Lin Zhu rolled around on the bed and quickly accepted the call.
“You’re awake? Just finished work?”
It was just dawn back home. Zhong Yao had probably just woken up. He let out a soft yawn, his voice still slightly hoarse with sleep. “I tried, but still didn’t sleep well. Had several dreams… kept thinking you got lost…”
When they slept together, Lin Zhu had almost never woken up first. This was the first time he heard Zhong Yao’s rare, soft and vulnerable tone right after waking.
Lin Zhu’s heart melted, and his voice softened as well. “I got caught up at noon today and forgot. Next time, before you sleep, send me a good night message, and I’ll call you back…”
At noon, the entire team had been staring at him intently, as if they wanted to extract everything from his mind and put it on paper. Lin Zhu felt too embarrassed to make excuses to slip away, and also worried that sending messages might disturb Zhong Yao’s work. By the time he finally had a break, it was already too late back home.
Experiencing jet lag for the first time, Lin Zhu hadn’t fully adjusted yet. While talking to Zhong Yao, he simply set his watch back to home time. “Alright, I’ll wait tomorrow.”
Zhong Yao smiled, not letting down his agent’s effort. “How did you sleep last night?”
Zhong Yao hadn’t slept well, so Lin Zhu felt a bit embarrassed to say he had slept unusually comfortably. His face warmed, and he answered vaguely, “It was alright…”
“Alright?” Zhong Yao let out a breath of relief and chuckled softly. “Then I’m reassured. I booked the same room I stayed in back then. From the window, you can see Central Park. The maple leaves are the most beautiful at this time of year. It’s too late today, remember to look tomorrow morning.”
Lin Zhu’s heart suddenly started beating fast.
So that was what the casting director and producer had been whispering about…
Three years ago, Zhong Yao had been here, in the same room as him, standing by the same window…
Unable to resist, Lin Zhu ran to the bedside, pulled open the curtains, and looked at the night-covered view. Imagining Zhong Yao back then, his eyes grew faintly warm.
“I had them use the incense I usually use, and arranged for the dishes we often eat. If you get hungry in the middle of the night and don’t want to call room service, there’s a pot and instant noodles in the cabinet. You can cook some yourself… what’s wrong?”
Zhong Yao was still carefully giving instructions when he noticed something off in Lin Zhu’s breathing. His voice paused slightly and softened. “Xiao Zhu? Did you catch a cold?”
“A little…”
Lin Zhu rubbed his eyes hard and sniffed. “Ge, I miss you.”
Zhong Yao fell silent for a moment, then softly kissed him through the phone, his voice gentle. “Wait a bit longer. Once I finish filming, I’ll come find you.”
“Ge, don’t rush filming. Your health comes first.”
Lin Zhu guessed his intention and quickly spoke up. Wiping his eyes, he flopped onto the bed and buried himself in the blankets. “I’ve got a way! Don’t worry, I’m fine. You take care of yourself too, and when the time comes, we’ll reunite in victory…”
Zhong Yao grew curious. “What way?”
Lin Zhu’s ears warmed, and he pressed his lips together in a smile. “It’s a secret. You’ll know when you get here.”
Afraid Zhong Yao would delay work and end up filming late into the night again, he changed the subject. “Ge, go wash up. I’ll message you later, and you send me more messages too. It gets pretty boring here sometimes…”
Zhong Yao smiled. “Alright.”
Zhong Yao did have to get busy again. After giving him a few simple reminders, he hurriedly hung up.
Holding his phone, Lin Zhu took a deep, deep breath and couldn’t help but smile.
The specially ordered Chinese meal arrived. After dinner and a shower, Lin Zhu watched a bit of his “little theater,” chatted with Zhong Yao — who was waiting between scenes — and then closed his eyes and fell into a deep, steady sleep.
…
The next day, Lin Zhu was once again swept up by the highly enthusiastic Marlensius team, radiating effort and energy all day.
As things got on track, there were even more details to handle, from atmosphere, tone, to script arrangements. Lin Zhu stayed busy all day, only finding time at noon to say goodnight to Zhong Yao. It wasn’t until sunset that he finally left the casting room.
Looking at the fiery red maple leaves outside, dyed by the setting sun, Lin Zhu missed Zhong Yao again.
After a moment’s thought, he didn’t take the elevator, but went down one floor via the stairs.
The entire floor below was practice rooms. Several selected actors were undergoing stunt and combat training. David Muller had been successfully chosen and was being tormented by the exhausting, tedious practice. When he heard someone was looking for him, he immediately perked up, threw on a coat, and came out.
Lin Zhu stood outside the door, smiling at him in a friendly manner, and handed over a freshly bought iced cola.
Muller still remembered how he had targeted Zhong Yao. Seeing Lin Zhu made him instinctively wary, and he stepped back. “What do you want?”
“Relax. We’re both Asian. Let’s be friends. Aren’t you thirsty?”
Lin Zhu had already finished “reading” everything from yesterday. He smiled amicably and smoothly shifted the topic from the cola. “When you and Mr. Zhong performed together on Broadway, didn’t you drink cola?”
