Another Mid-Autumn Festival came around, and Lin Zhu finally brought Zhong Yao into his bedroom.
Lin Song had taken their parents abroad for a vacation, so aside from the butler and the cook, only the two of them were home. Lin Zhu was so excited that he couldn’t sit still for even a moment. He led Zhong Yao over a wall, through a window, and around in a huge circle before finally pulling him back into the estate by crawling through an inconspicuous little hole in the corner of the fence.
Wearing sunglasses and a mask, Zhong Yao enthusiastically cooperated with every sightseeing activity his agent had planned.
“Ge, let’s play games! I’m really good at them!”
Back in the bedroom, Lin Zhu was still brimming with excitement. Cheerfully pulling Zhong Yao down to sit beside him, his eyes sparkled. “I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry…”
Zhong Yao sat down with him, efficiently removing all his disguise, the warmth in his eyes accompanied by a gentle smile. “All right.”
Outside, Agent Lin always had to maintain the composed bearing of a company president. Now that no one was watching, he completely let loose. He quickly turned on the game console and stuffed a controller into Zhong Yao’s hands.
Zhong Yao had never possessed much talent when it came to casual entertainment, but he wasn’t the least bit perfunctory about it. Carefully following Lin Zhu’s instructions on how to use the controller, he focused intently on the screen and played Contra, the most popular game from those years, together with his manager.
Ten minutes later, Lin Zhu thoughtfully swapped the cartridge for Super Mario.
Twenty minutes later, he changed it again to Tetris.
When the butler came upstairs carrying the mooncakes Zhong Yao had just bought and gently knocked on the bedroom door, Lin Zhu and Zhong Yao were each clutching a controller, having just numbly dug up an enormous gold nugget from underground.
The young master had finally found someone to play with. The butler let out a relieved sigh. Smiling, he winked at the young master, who was politely thanking him for his hard work, secretly gave him an encouraging thumbs-up, set down the mooncakes, and quietly left.
The bedroom door softly closed again.
Watching the last little character flash before disappearing, Zhong Yao finally let out a long breath, set down the controller, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Holding his controller, Lin Zhu’s feelings were complicated. “Ge… I think I finally understand why nobody wanted to play games with you…”
Zhong Yao laughed, rubbing the head drooping against his shoulder. “I’ll buy a game console when I get home and practice hard. Next time, I’ll try to keep you company a little longer.”
As long as he could spend time with Zhong Yao, whether they actually played games wasn’t important.
Lately, Zhong Yao had been mindful of preserving his image and hadn’t been ruffling the new CEO’s hair in front of other people. After being rubbed twice now, Lin Zhu immediately brightened up, tossed aside the controller, and hugged Zhong Yao.
“No need, no need! I haven’t played in a long time either. Honestly, it’s not that interesting…”
Zhong Yao steadily gathered him into his arms, letting him lean back comfortably. Lowering his head, he kissed him gently and insisted warmly, “I’ll practice properly. Then I’ll play with you next time.”
After dragging Zhong Yao around all day, Lin Zhu was now nestled warmly in his embrace. Feeling so comfortable that he couldn’t help squinting contentedly, he buried himself against Zhong Yao’s chest and gave a muffled hum in response.
As Zhong Yao gently stroked the back of his neck and shoulders, his gaze settled on the old game console.
Lin Song had once told him that Lin Zhu had used it to train his hands not to shake.
Now, his agent no longer suffered from losing control. Everything from the past had been carefully put away. The last time he’d seen his parents, he hadn’t even been nervous anymore. He had been able to talk with them calmly and naturally.
Everything was finally all right.
Lin Zhu had spent these past days holding himself together in front of everyone. Now that only the two of them remained, all he wanted was for Zhong Yao to kiss him a little more. His ears reddened as he tipped his head up, searching for every opportunity.
Raising an eyebrow, Zhong Yao swept his gaze over the agent’s face. To him, it’s a face that had never been capable of hiding anything. Warm amusement flickered in his eyes as he wrapped him more tightly in his arms.
Downstairs, the butler had prepared afternoon tea and waited there until evening before finally seeing the young master’s good friend come downstairs. After politely thanking him, Zhong Yao carried the refreshments back upstairs.
Lin Zhu was sprawled across the bed, completely drained of strength. So exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open, he sleepily watched Zhong Yao come back into the room. “Ge… just how much did you study…”
“I studied everything in that guide, plus a few other things. I’m still not completely proficient at some of it.”
Scooping him back into his arms, Zhong Yao fed him a couple of biscuits while cautiously evaluating his own technique based on his agent’s reactions. “You didn’t like it? Was I too—”
“I liked it!” Lin Zhu reacted instantly.
Still nibbling on his biscuit, the warmth that had only just faded from his face slowly returned.
Film Emperor Zhong was someone who excelled through diligent study and practice.
No matter what it was, whether he was naturally talented or not, skilled or inexperienced, he would never avoid something simply because he didn’t understand it. Instead, he gathered extensive information, studied, practiced, and continuously refined and summarized his techniques through experience.
“Driving” was no exception.
By now, Lin Zhu could no longer find even a trace of the old tricycle that collected scrap. Zhong Yao had already upgraded him to leisurely drives in a convertible Rolls-Royce.
Thinking back on what had just happened made Lin Zhu’s heart race again. Taking tiny sips of the osmanthus wine Zhong Yao held to his lips, he secretly looked up at him.
Only…
Even now, Zhong Yao still couldn’t break the habit of putting him first in everything.
Lin Zhu had never really been hurt. Any discomfort only lasted for those brief moments before everything washed away by pure pleasure. Every time afterward, other than being so tired he could barely lift his arms, he hardly felt anything else.
Matter could neither be created nor destroyed; energy was conserved.
Lin Zhu always felt that if he was this comfortable, then Zhong Yao surely wasn’t comfortable enough.
And because of that, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
Not knowing what his agent was daydreaming about again, Zhong Yao raised an eyebrow, ruffled Lin Zhu’s hair, and lowered his head to kiss his still-damp forehead. “What is it?”
“Ge…”
Sleepiness had completely dissolved Lin Zhu’s self-control. The more he looked at Zhong Yao, the more his heart ached for him. Swaying unsteadily, he struggled to get to his feet.
Startled, Zhong Yao quickly caught him.
Watching Lin Zhu stubbornly trying to climb off the bed, a vague premonition arose in his heart. He picked up the osmanthus wine the butler had specially brought up and took a sip.
Zhong Yao looked at the osmanthus wine, then at the elegant packaging, which clearly stated: ABV 1.5%.
After hesitating briefly, he finally lifted his manager completely off the ground, carried him over, and sat down at the table with him still wrapped securely in his arms.
Having reached his intended destination, Lin Zhu stopped struggling. He pulled an old, worn leather notebook out of a drawer and stuffed it into Zhong Yao’s arms.
Somewhat surprised, Zhong Yao asked, “Is this for me to read?”
Lin Zhu nodded vigorously, squinting sleepily. “For you…”
Looking at the notebook, Zhong Yao found himself unexpectedly hesitant.
His darling agent was still young and cared about his dignity. Anything that might expose his embarrassing childhood history was always hidden away securely, and he had steadfastly refused to let Zhong Yao see it.
Even though Lin Zhu was the one offering it now, if Zhong Yao actually read it, once Lin Zhu sobered up, he might just explode from embarrassment.
Zhong Yao had always respected his manager’s wish to grow up into a mature and capable adult. Adhering to the principle of never casually digging into Lin Zhu’s black history, he held the scalding notebook in his hands, caught in a dilemma.
But Lin Zhu insisted.
Not only did he insist, he even opened the notebook himself and demanded that Zhong Yao read it aloud.
Unable to refuse his agent , Zhong Yao took the notebook. He cleared his throat, about to begin reading, when something in his heart stirred gently.
What Lin Zhu had given him was a diary, one that had begun twelve years ago.
Drawing the agent — who was still repeatedly trying to pluck at his eyelashes — back into his arms, Zhong Yao opened to a page and softly, gently read aloud the diary entry that little Lin Zhu had painstakingly written stroke by stroke twelve years ago.
…
Night had completely fallen.
Sitting at the desk, Zhong Yao turned to the second-to-last page of the diary.
Lin Zhu had long since fallen asleep in his arms, sleeping peacefully, the corners of his lips still curved into a faint smile, his eyelashes resting quietly against his eyelids.
The young master of the Lin family had never been the type to keep a proper diary. Twelve years’ worth of events had fit into a single notebook. Averaged out, writing even ten entries a year had been no easy feat.
The contents were trivial, nothing particularly special. Some entries were even just a few hastily scribbled sentences.
There was only one thing they all had in common; they were all happy things.
There was none of the heaviness or oppression Zhong Yao had imagined. What Lin Zhu had recorded were the rare bright moments of his youth. Like sunlight breaking through gaps in dark clouds, bouncing down in cheerful bursts, dazzlingly brilliant.
Tucked into the last two pages of the diary was a thick stack of calendars.
All twelve were there, not one missing. Every single day had been carefully marked with a pen. After finishing an entire year’s worth of markings, he would fold it up and tuck it into the diary.
One by one, Zhong Yao unfolded those calendars, looking at the handwriting that varied in darkness and color from day to day.
As he folded the calendars back up and prepared to put them away, he suddenly noticed that the leather cover felt thicker than the front. After feeling around several times, he carefully reached inside.
There was an old letter, yellowed with age.
Sitting at the desk, Zhong Yao quietly looked at the familiar handwriting on that worn piece of paper. The hazy memories from his youth became crystal clear, and the final missing piece of the puzzle quietly clicked into place.
It was the only reply letter he had ever written to Lin Zhu that had actually reached its destination.
[Greetings.]
Long after he had secretly stopped reading aloud once his manager had fallen asleep, Zhong Yao slowly read through the letter. Lowering his head to look at the deeply sleeping Lin Zhu, he softly recited words that even he himself could barely remember anymore.
[To The Coolest Kid…]
Back then, he had just discovered the letter little Lin Zhu had secretly tucked into his luggage. He had stayed up all night writing a reply and mailed it at first light.
At the time, he knew nothing about what had happened to Lin Zhu. It was simply a strange intuition. Looking into those amber eyes, he had felt as though he saw something there that absolutely had to be corrected.
Eighteen-year-old Zhong Yao still possessed all the admirable habits of a model student. He searched through every psychology and child education book he could find and carefully listed several requirements for the young Lin Zhu.
The first: [Write down everything that makes you happy. I’ll read it when I come back.]
The second: [Recite our promise every day. I’ll test you when I return.]
The third: [Live well. Twelve years from now, no matter what, let me know that my very first little fan is still living a wonderful life.]
Lin Zhu had done every single one of them.
Holding Lin Zhu in his arms, Zhong Yao lowered his head and gently kissed his manager’s peacefully closed eyes.
The alcohol had mostly worn off. After being kissed so tenderly for a while, Lin Zhu gradually woke from his drowsiness. Blinking, he murmured, “Ge…”
He had slept very comfortably. Rubbing his eyes, Lin Zhu pushed himself upright with his arms and casually glanced at the desk.
His expression changed instantly. “Ge, how did you find it?! I remember hiding it…”
His voice abruptly stopped.
The aftereffects of alcohol with less than two percent alcohol content were minimal. Lin Zhu still remembered exactly what he had done. Heat immediately rushed to his face as he flusteredly reached for the notebook, only to be gently pulled back into Zhong Yao’s embrace.
Lowering his head, Zhong Yao asked softly, “Was it written for me to read?”
“I-It originally was…” Lin Zhu stared at the notebook, stammering. “Bu-but later the plan changed a… a little, so you can’t read it anymore. G-Ge, don’t open it…”
Comfortingly rubbing the back of Lin Zhu’s neck, Zhong Yao took hold of his hand. “It’s alright. Whatever you wrote, I want to read it.”
The scars on Lin Zhu’s palm from the wire rig were still there.
When talking about that accident on set, Lin Zhu had once told him not to worry, saying that by then, he had already wanted very, very much to keep living.
Only now did Zhong Yao completely understand what those words had meant. Now, he truly wasn’t worried anymore.
After soothing his inexplicably nervous manager, Zhong Yao lowered his head and kissed him before opening to the final page of the diary, finally completing the promise they had made to each other.
After twelve years of diary entries, the handwriting on the page had transformed from childish scrawls into elegant, refined script.
The date was recent, it was the day before they had reunited for the first time.
Now that he was going to meet Zhong Yao, there was naturally no need to keep writing a diary. Having grown into adulthood and read countless books, the young master of the Lin family confidently penned his final diary entry with great self-assurance.
August 14, 2017 | Sunny, ridiculously hot
Tomorrow, the three-year promise will finally be fulfilled. I’ll finally get to see Zhong Yao. Happiness level: ★★★★★
I’ve already rehearsed it.
When I see Zhong Yao, I’ll walk right over, lift his chin, give him a cold smile, and say: “Hey handsome, you’re mine now.”
