Upon hearing that Chen Zemian was going to Huanyu Media to collect evidence, Cheng Ziyi’s first reaction was a firm no.
“This is too dangerous.”
She was shocked. “My agent has seen you. He not only knows you’re the boss of a game company, but also that you have a close relationship with Mr. Lu.”
With such an identity and connection, even if they believe Chen Zemian just wants to become a star for fun, they wouldn’t dare go against his will or risk offending Mr. Lu by targeting him.
It was simply too unrealistic.
Chen Zemian smiled. “Cousin, you’re so concerned you’re not thinking clearly. What you said contradicts itself. If they don’t dare to touch me because of Mr. Lu, then I won’t be in danger.”
Cheng Ziyi didn’t respond right away. “Ah? But if they don’t dare take advantage of you, how will you get evidence?”
Most people would be annoyed by such a question, but not Chen Zemian. He just asked calmly, “Why do you assume the only way I can get evidence is by letting them seduce me, instead of pretending to play along and watching them seduce someone else?”
Cheng Ziyi’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. “So that’s how it can work! Chen Zemian, you’re so smart!”
Pretending to be prey only gets you killed in the end—and even if you fight back, you’ll only catch the person who attacked you.
But if you mix with the hunters, you can trace the entire chain of the transaction.
Cheng Ziyi suddenly realized her mistake and immediately apologized. “I’m sorry. I was being stupid. I didn’t think of it that way.”
Chen Zemian said, “It’s okay. You just didn’t think of it—nothing to apologize for.”
Lu Zhuonian suddenly spoke, his tone blunt: “She’s not apologizing because she didn’t think of it that way. She’s apologizing because she didn’t expect you to do something like this.”
Cheng Ziyi’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she fell silent.
Chen Zemian, thick-skinned as ever, didn’t register what Lu Zhuonian meant, nor did he find Cheng Ziyi offensive.
But Lu Zhuonian corrected her seriously: “Cheng Ziyi, Chen Zemian is a very capable person. He’s not my subordinate.”
Cheng Ziyi nodded and sincerely apologized again. “I’m sorry, Chen Zemian.”
The atmosphere suddenly turned heavy.
Chen Zemian gently bumped Lu Zhuonian’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Why so fierce all of a sudden?”
Lu Zhuonian replied, “Nothing. Just correcting a misconception.”
Chen Zemian tilted his head, confused. “Misconception?”
Lu Zhuonian said concisely, “If I said I was going to collect evidence, she wouldn’t immediately assume I’d do it the way she just imagined.”
This time, Chen Zemian understood.
In Cheng Ziyi’s subconscious logic, Lu Zhuonian wasn’t someone who could be “seduced.” But Chen Zemian was.
She clearly knew Chen Zemian was the boss of a game company, had Lu Zhuonian—the prince of the Beijing circle—as his backer, and had even heard from her bestie that “Chen Zemian’s fighting ability is amazing.”
Yet she still applied the logic of the weak to him.
She would never apply that logic to Lu Zhuonian.
So even if she didn’t mean to look down on him, she had still placed Chen Zemian in a lower position—framing him as the prey.
Lu Zhuonian wasn’t willing to let this slide and reiterated, “Chen Zemian and I are equals. You shouldn’t think like that. It’s disrespectful to him.”
Chen Zemian tugged at Lu Zhuonian’s sleeve. “Forget it, forget it. Let’s change the subject. Do you know any of the higher-ups at Huanyu?”
Lu Zhuonian replied calmly, “Let’s go home first. This matter’s more complicated than you think. We need to talk it through from the beginning.”
Chen Zemian wasn’t afraid of Lu Zhuonian’s objections—he was only afraid when Lu Zhuonian talked to him.
If Lu Zhuonian objected, he could pretend to obey but disobey in secret. But if Lu Zhuonian started analyzing and discussing, he’d see right through him.
Then Chen Zemian wouldn’t even have a chance to pretend to obey.
Lu Zhuonian was too smart, too sharp—and worst of all, he knew him too well.
So, when they got home, Chen Zemian’s inner ostrich-turtle emerged. He immediately used the excuse, “I’m sleepy. I want to sleep,” to avoid the conversation.
Lu Zhuonian knew he could dodge the issue today, but not forever, so he didn’t push it.
After both showered and returned to the bedroom, Chen Zemian hugged Lu Zhuonian. His plan was to pretend to fall asleep, lull Lu Zhuonian into sleep as well, and then contact people who had ties to Huanyu.
Xiao Kesong seemed to be on familiar terms with the son of Huanyu’s president, but if he went through Xiao Kesong, there’d be no way to bypass Lu Zhuonian. And since he was pretending to be a carefree playboy, it would be safer not to use his boyfriend’s childhood friend.
That meant he couldn’t use any connections from the second-generation circle.
Chen Zemian secretly pulled out his phone from under the pillow and sent a WeChat message to Fu Tingchao, asking if he had any contacts inside Huanyu.
After hitting send, he copied the message to paste it into a chat with Zheng Huaiyu.
Just as he was about to paste it, Lu Zhuonian stirred.
Chen Zemian quickly shoved the phone back under the pillow, closed his eyes, and kept pretending to sleep.
Lu Zhuonian turned over and looked at him. “Not sleepy anymore?”
Chen Zemian didn’t dare move.
He had originally closed his eyes to fake sleep and strategize, but, as expected, he actually fell asleep after a while.
Well, it wasn’t something that could be solved in a rush anyway. Might as well sleep and figure it out later.
Without hesitation, Chen Zemian turned on his side and leaned into Lu Zhuonian’s arms, resting his forehead on his chest. His breathing gradually evened out.
When he woke again, it was already ten in the evening.
He had woken up just when normal people were getting ready for bed. Before opening his eyes, he reached out instinctively to touch Lu Zhuonian.
Nothing.
Of course. High-energy people like Lu Zhuonian didn’t need much sleep. He had probably just laid down with Chen Zemian to help coax him to sleep.
Chen Zemian pulled on his pajamas, got out of bed, and went to look for him.
Lu Zhuonian was in the study, on the phone.
While Chen Zemian slept, Lu Zhuonian had already contacted Sun Yueping, the director of the Public Security Bureau.
He reported the suspected criminal activities at Huanyu Media and mentioned the possibility of a connection to the Yaotai Langyuan case.
Sun Yueping’s response was formal: the police had already obtained preliminary information and were investigating. The details and progress of the case couldn’t be disclosed yet, but he thanked Lu Zhuonian for the report.
Lu Zhuonian also brought up Chen Zemian’s plan. “He’s going to Huanyu Media to gather evidence. I can’t stop him.”
This time, Sun Yueping went quiet.
There was a long silence on the line.
Then, the faint click of a lighter came through the receiver.
Sun Yueping took a deep drag from his cigarette and said, “There’s no way. It’s a family tradition—they don’t follow the rules.”
No one expected Chen Zemian to get involved in this case. Twenty years ago, his father, Chen Qingyu, had gone deep into enemy territory alone and turned the tide; twenty years later, Chen Zemian did the same—went alone and never looked back.
The trajectories of their destinies quietly intersected, repeating past mistakes.
After a long discussion with Sun Yueping, neither of them could stop Chen Zemian, but they reached a consensus about the matter concerning Chen Qingyu—Chen Zemian must not be told.
At least, not yet.
Even though Chen Zemian had already joined the game and was investigating Huanyu Media to prevent further harm, once he found out about his father’s involvement, his motive would be compounded with a heavier sense of duty.
Hatred and anger would cloud his judgment—and with his impulsive nature, that would be dangerous.
Sun Yueping sighed. “I can’t do anything about it, but I can’t just sit back and watch him get pulled deeper. If he doesn’t know about his father, he can still be considered a bystander. But if he does… can you control his emotions?”
Lu Zhuonian confirmed, “So you’re not going to stop him either.”
Sun Yueping said, “I didn’t stop him. Since I found out he was investigating the Xiaojin Pills last time, I’ve had someone keeping an eye on him. By the way, do you know why he suddenly got interested in those pills?”
Lu Zhuonian replied flatly, “Didn’t you ask when Officer Fu handcuffed him and brought him in?”
Sun Yueping: “…”
Lu Zhuonian maintained a neutral expression. “You can ask him next time you see him.”
Sun Yueping was so annoyed that he hung up, slammed the phone down, and immediately called the archives department to get Fu Guanlan—who was reading files—to answer.
There were hundreds of documents related to the Yaotai Langyuan case, each two or three hundred pages long. Fu Guanlan rarely had time to go through them in person, and just as he flipped through two folders, he was summoned to the director’s office.
Meanwhile, Lu Zhuonian quickly sprang into action. After ending the call with Sun Yueping, he made several more phone calls in quick succession.
Until night had fallen and the moon hung high in the sky.
The study door was half open. Chen Zemian, unsure who Lu Zhuonian was speaking to, peeked in.
Lu Zhuonian was standing by the French windows, holding his phone with one hand, his eyes fixed on the glowing greenhouse lights downstairs. When he heard the door creak, he turned and saw Chen Zemian. His gaze softened.
Chen Zemian pointed at the phone by Lu Zhuonian’s ear, then pointed at himself, as if asking, Can I come in?
Lu Zhuonian nodded and motioned for him to enter. He then said to the person on the line, “The copyright price can be raised by 50%… No, it’s not too high. I need it… Yes, give it to him.”
The other end responded vaguely—Chen Zemian couldn’t catch it clearly, but it seemed like they agreed.
“Can we sign the contract tomorrow?” Lu Zhuonian chuckled, voice tinged with money. “Great. I’m in China. Let’s connect tomorrow.”
Then he ended the call.
Chen Zemian, only half-listening, asked, “What copyright was that?”
Lu Zhuonian replied, “The IP rights for the comic Tomb Raider. Its film and TV rights are in high demand. Huanyu Media has been after it for a long time, but the author asked for a high price, so negotiations have stalled.”
Chen Zemian inhaled sharply. “So you upped the price just to snatch it?”
Lu Zhuonian’s lips curved. “Yes. You’ll use this copyright to discuss a film collaboration with Huanyu Media. Not only will they treat you as a VIP investor, but under the guise of casting, you’ll also be able to interact freely with their artists.”
Chen Zemian was dumbfounded. Just before bed, he had still been racking his brain on how to convince Lu Zhuonian and reach Huanyu’s upper management—yet in just a few hours, everything had been arranged.
Not only had Lu Zhuonian raised no objections—he’d paved the way for him.
Lu Zhuonian gently flicked his forehead. “Back to manual mode.”
Chen Zemian finally snapped out of it and threw his arms around him. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”
Lu Zhuonian smiled. “Start with ‘thank you.’”
Chen Zemian glanced at him, then leaned up to kiss his lover’s chin.
He didn’t know how to express the tangle of emotions inside. He could only respond to Lu Zhuonian’s unwavering support with action.
No matter how beautiful or profound the words, they paled in comparison to this steady, tireless backing. There were too many things he wanted to say, but they all caught in his throat—condensing into a silent, overwhelming gratitude.
His heart swelled with attachment and tenderness, emotions weaving together into a net that wrapped around him tightly and completely.
“How can you be so good to me?” Chen Zemian nuzzled into Lu Zhuonian like a kitten. “Supporting me, taking care of me, protecting me…”
Lu Zhuonian hooked an arm around his neck. “Zemian, as your boyfriend, I don’t want you involved in this mess.”
Chen Zemian fingered the buttons of his shirt and smiled slyly. “That’s why I say you’re wonderful—truly wonderful. Lu Zhuonian, you’re a good person.”
Lu Zhuonian sighed. “I’m not a good person. I just… understand you.”
Unruly, impulsive, stubborn, arrogant.
Outwardly obedient, but only when he chose to be. If he didn’t want to listen, no one could make him.
As Chen Zemian once said—
No one can force me to do what I don’t want to do.
And by the same token, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted—not even if it meant poking a hole in the sky.
Lu Zhuonian was helpless against that.
Since he couldn’t stop him, it was better to offer help than to let him go behind his back and face the danger alone.
He would build a golden bridge to heaven for him.
Chen Zemian felt a profound sense of comfort in Lu Zhuonian’s embrace.
Just as he was about to whisper something sentimental, his phone rang at the worst possible moment.
It was a video call from Fu Tingchao.
Lu Zhuonian’s face twisted with too many unreadable expressions. “He’s calling this late?”
Chen Zemian replied, “That’s normal for him. I asked earlier if he knew anyone in Huanyu. This must be about that.”
Lu Zhuonian raised a brow. “And it’s a video call?”
Chen Zemian: “…”
Just as he was about to hit decline, Lu Zhuonian suddenly reached out, grabbed the phone, and answered the video call.
Fu Tingchao appeared on the screen, seemingly in a hotel room. He didn’t even flinch at the sight of Lu Zhuonian.
A territorial move, clear as day. He’d done the same in his youth.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Lu.”
Fu Tingchao asked evenly, “Where’s Xiaomian?”
Some things are so awkward, they’re funny.
Lu Zhuonian laughed coldly. “Xiao Mian?”
Chen Zemian: “………………”
*****
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Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
