As we all know, Lu Zhuonian has a strong sense of possessiveness.
Fu Tingchao’s late-night call—and that one word, “Mian”—hit him hard.
But as a boyfriend, it would have been too petty to get angry and jealous over something so trivial. They still had more than half a year of long-distance love ahead of them, and the most important thing between lovers is trust.
Although Fu Tingchao wasn’t picky about meat or vegetables, men or women, and had a habit of sharing lovers, he never touched someone else’s partner.
Lu Zhuonian hung up the phone expressionlessly. In Chen Zemian’s uneasy gaze, he generously declared that he would not get angry about this.
Chen Zemian couldn’t help but applaud and praise Lu Zhuonian for being so generous.
Lu Zhuonian nodded slightly and calmly said that he might be a little addicted to sex.
Chen Zemian: “…”
Well. It turned out that while he didn’t show it on the surface, he’d instead made himself addicted to sex.
When Lu Zhuonian carried him into the basement, Chen Zemian clutched his shoulders and muttered, “You might as well just be angry.”
Lu Zhuonian pressed down and kissed him. “I won’t be angry with you.”
Though he claimed it was sexual addiction, Lu Zhuonian wasn’t rough at all. He was extremely gentle—like warm spring water, surrounding Chen Zemian from all directions.
Comforted, Chen Zemian hummed, “You’re really sick… or just pretending to be.”
Lu Zhuonian smiled and picked him up, letting Chen Zemian wrap his arms around his neck. “What do you think?”
Chen Zemian melted against him. “No… I can’t take it anymore.”
Lu Zhuonian asked, “What’s wrong?”
Chen Zemian was so exhausted he felt like he might pee himself, but he was also afraid that he’d overindulged and his body wouldn’t hold up. He clamped his legs together to hold it back. Later, he couldn’t endure it anymore. Realizing the horror of being killed slowly by pleasure, he finally whispered for Lu Zhuonian to be faster—and rougher.
By the end, dawn was breaking.
Lu Zhuonian carried him back upstairs, cleaned him, bathed him, and dried his hair.
Chen Zemian was so tired he didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger. But he still managed to echo their earlier conversation and concluded with mock formality: “You might as well be angry.”
Lu Zhuonian kissed his forehead. “I won’t be angry with you.”
Time without Lu Zhuonian passed slowly, but time with him flew by.
On the way to the airport, Chen Zemian said, “Next time we meet, we should do less. It takes too much time. The whole night was gone—we didn’t get anything done.”
Lu Zhuonian laughed. “Okay.”
Chen Zemian checked the itinerary Zheng Huaiyu had sent him. “She’s almost done negotiating the movie collaboration with Huanyu Media.”
Lu Zhuonian replied, “They’re very anxious now.”
Whispering Studio was a game company. As soon as it bought the copyright, it announced a new co-branded game project.
The author of Tomb Raider sold the IP as a bundle. Huanyu Media only wanted the film and television rights and thought the bundle was too expensive, so the deal fell through. Unexpectedly, the new game company swooped in and took it.
They originally planned to buy the film rights from Whispering Studio, but when they investigated the company, they found it wasn’t simple. They immediately lowered their posture and tried every means to meet Chen Zemian.
Everyone said that Lu Zhuonian was farsighted. After signing Tomb Raider’s IP, there was no need to chase connections at Huanyu Company. People lined up to seek him out.
Chen Zemian played hard to get. The more eager they were, the more he ignored them. He assigned Zheng Huaiyu to lead the talks, and although the meetings went on for days, no deal was signed.
It wasn’t until he saw Lu Zhuonian off at the airport that Chen Zemian found time to attend an awards dinner.
By now, everyone knew about his relationship with Lu Zhuonian.
To outsiders, Chen Zemian’s success was credited to that relationship. Even though they were lovers, the dynamic was clearly one of master and subordinate. Otherwise, why would Chen Zemian start appearing at every social event as soon as Lu Zhuonian went abroad?
Didn’t that mean the sponsor had returned overseas, and the canary was busy entertaining again?
An insider said, “He may seem glamorous, but only the one drinking the water knows whether it’s hot or cold. Lu Shao is very strict with him. It’s not easy.”
The listeners leaned in. “What do you mean?”
The insider whispered, “Lu Shao once said that no one in the second-gen circle is allowed to hang out with him—let alone drink with him. Do you think he dares go out alone when Young Master Lu is around?”
Everyone sighed. “He’s so young, just at the age of wanting to have fun. It must be suffocating to be controlled like that.”
Someone shared fresh gossip. “I don’t know if he’s rebellious or just loves to party, but last time he came back from abroad, he spent a week at Fanlou. I heard he was eventually picked up by the anti-vice police.”
Hearing that, Zhao Yang, the manager at Huanyu Media, sneered subtly.
He thought it was some true love story, but in the end, it was just another boy using sex to climb.
Despite his disdain, business was business.
Zhao Yang observed that Chen Zemian was skilled—able to maintain control in a world full of vanity. Even the notoriously jaded playboy Fu Tingchao praised him highly. Not only did he affectionately call him Xiaomian, he once slung his arm around his own lover and half-jokingly asked if Chen Zemian wanted to join them.
Seeing this, Zhao Yang picked out a few good-looking artists from his roster and had them toast Fu Tingchao.
Fu Tingchao accepted every toast.
Zhao Yang stepped up at the right moment, smiling with a wine glass: “Fu Er Shao is in good spirits. These are newly signed trainees—ambitious and eager to learn. Knowing you’re a doctoral graduate from a prestigious university, they insisted on coming over to toast you. No one could stop them.”
Fu Tingchao rested his arms casually and said, “There are certainly a lot of new faces.”
Zhao Yang poured more wine for him. “You studied digital economy, which happens to be a perfect match for us in the media industry. If you’d be willing to offer them some guidance, it would be a real blessing.”
Although Chen Zemian was pretending to be the “post-sponsor freedom version of himself,” it still made his skin crawl to hear this. He couldn’t hide his reaction and rolled his eyes.
Fu Tingchao chuckled, glancing at Zhao Yang and the others.
Interesting. Before this dinner, Zhao Yang had already approached him, saying he wanted to get to know Chen Zemian.
Even stranger, his brother Fu Guanlan—normally disdainful of people who relied on connections—had called and personally asked him to “look after” Chen Zemian.
It was so out of character that Fu Tingchao had double-checked what kind of care he meant and mentioned that Chen Zemian seemed eager to network with Huanyu’s upper ranks.
Fu Guanlan had been silent for a long time before hanging up.
No opinion meant no objection.
Zhao Yang noticed Fu Tingchao’s silence but said nothing. He signaled to the artists.
One by one, they introduced themselves—like merchandise being presented on a shelf.
Zhao Yang had even chosen some dance academy students, hinting they should perform on the spot.
Finally, Fu Tingchao seemed to remember his “mission” and casually turned to Chen Zemian. “Xiaomian, anyone catch your eye?”
With those words, Zhao Yang and Chen Zemian both reacted. The question served as the cue they’d been waiting for. Their gazes met naturally in midair.
Zhao Yang immediately played dumb. “Fu Er Shao, who is this?”
Fu Tingchao felt like he deserved three appearance fees. Of all the artists and actors at the party, he was the only one truly performing.
“You don’t know this person?” he asked, feigning surprise. Then he turned to Zhao Yang. “This is Mr. Chen from Whispering Studio. Chen Zemian.”
Zhao Yang quickly recovered and raised his glass. “Ah! So you’re Mr. Chen! I really didn’t recognize you—you’re so young. I’m Zhao Yang from Huanyu’s Copyright Department. We’ve spoken before—I’ve contacted your secretary.”
Chen Zemian, still acting, responded casually, “Manager Zhao.”
Zhao Yang noticed Chen Zemian didn’t even lift his glass. He cursed him inwardly for being arrogant, selling his body to rise, yet still acting superior. Outwardly, he smiled and offered a string of flattery.
Chen Zemian finally deigned to lift his glass. “I’ve dealt with your company before. Some of your staff are quite arrogant—not as approachable as Manager Zhao.”
Zhao Yang quickly asked, “Oh? What happened?”
Chen Zemian said lightly, “My cousin used to be an artist at your company. He was bullied and insulted by a manager named Zhang Kun. The things he said were awful.”
Zhao Yang forced a laugh. “That’s impossible. Our managers all go through professional training. Conflicts with artists are strictly against policy. There must be some misunderstanding.”
Chen Zemian set his wine glass on the table and said nothing more.
Zhao Yang pulled out a chair and sat next to Chen Zemian. He coaxed him for a long time and even asked the artists he brought along to help. In the end, he called Zhang Kun, scolded him, and said he would make Zhang Kun apologize in person next time.
Chen Zemian’s expression looked slightly better.
Zhao Yang had some understanding of Chen Zemian’s temper.
In fact, people who show their emotions on their faces are the easiest to deal with—just flatter and coax them.
Zhao Yang wasn’t surprised. After all, most celebrities in the entertainment industry with financial sponsors behaved this way: obedient and flattering at home, but arrogant and domineering in public.
No wonder Chen Zemian went clubbing for a week after breaking up with Lu Shao. He was trying to find psychological balance.
Such people were easy to handle.
Zhao Yang began crafting a plan in his mind to win over Chen Zemian.
For the next while, no matter what event Chen Zemian attended, Zhao Yang would “accidentally” bump into him, intentionally or otherwise.
The little stars around Zhao Yang were all slick and well-trained. They surrounded Chen Zemian, calling him “Mr. Chen,” “Boss Chen,” and “Brother Mian” one after another, their voices dripping with charm.
Once Chen Zemian was coaxed into a good mood, Whisper Studio’s attitude changed drastically. They happily signed a film cooperation agreement for Tomb Raider with Huanyu Company, becoming the copyright investor of the film.
In this way, Huanyu Company essentially acquired the long-prepared film and television rights for free.
Zhao Yang had done an excellent job and was publicly praised by the general manager at a company meeting. His status in the company rose sharply.
As the saying goes, fortune and misfortune often come hand in hand. No one expected that the biggest beneficiary of Whisper Studio’s intercepted copyright deal would be Zhao Yang.
At this point, Zhao Yang looked at Chen Zemian as if he were a lucky charm, treating him with even more flattery and care.
Chen Zemian’s career began progressing smoothly, with a steady stream of invitations.
However, after he began working more closely with Huanyu Company, he had the distinct feeling he was being followed.
It felt a bit like being tailed by the police, though he couldn’t figure out what he’d done to deserve such attention. He wanted to confront them, but the other party’s counter-surveillance skills were too good—he couldn’t get close.
Until one day, he saw someone in plainclothes loitering near a pancake stall.
“Pancakes aren’t easy to make,” Chen Zemian muttered after a moment of silence. “Can you stop following me?”
The man’s belief in his cover story was unshakable. Even though the pancakes came out like a mess of spiderwebs, he insisted he was just a vendor and had been selling pancakes for seven or eight years.
Chen Zemian looked at the uneven batter. “It’s not easy for you. Why not switch to grilled cold noodles? That seems simpler.”
The man didn’t reply. He just silently scooped up the pancake scraps, placed them in a bag, and handed them to Chen Zemian.
Chen Zemian walked off with the pancake. When he passed the grilled cold noodle stall, he paused.
Then he turned his head and saw Fu Guanlan, wearing a mask.
Chen Zemian ate another terrible serving of grilled cold noodles.
After that day, no one followed him anymore. His movements became freer, and his dealings with Huanyu Company more frequent.
To better understand Chen Zemian’s preferences and tailor his approach, Zhao Yang rounded up every celebrity in the company he could find and had them take turns accompanying Chen Zemian to eat, drink, and have fun.
Eventually, he concluded that Chen Zemian was probably gay. He avoided female celebrities as much as possible but was noticeably more relaxed around men. They played cards and sports together, and if there were more girls, they would only play board games like Werewolf or Murder Mystery—activities that made physical contact hard to initiate.
While the second-generation elite and the entertainment industry weren’t the same circle, their paths often crossed.
One day, a video of Chen Zemian at a nightclub appeared in a second-generation rich kid’s friend group.
The poster hadn’t meant to film Chen Zemian—he was trying to catch a popular young star—but accidentally caught him in the frame.
Chen Zemian appeared for less than half a second, only half his face visible. Though blurry, he was unmistakably striking. Wherever he stood, he drew attention like a spotlight.
His delicate jawline, the slight lift of his lips, his blurred gaze—it was captivating.
If you zoomed in, you could even see a hand resting on his shoulder.
The lighting was ambiguous, the atmosphere hot and suggestive.
Lu Zhuonian rarely checked his WeChat Moments.
But Xiao Kesong checked them every day—and he didn’t just check them; he scrolled through them carelessly.
He clicked on the video and watched for two seconds. Before he even noticed Chen Zemian’s appearance, he casually posted in their childhood friend group chat, tagging Ye Chen and Chen Zemian.
Croissant is not bread: Just from a glance, this nightclub looks fun. Let’s go together when I’m back in China. @Ye Chen @Chen Zemian
The nightclub was too noisy. Chen Zemian didn’t hear his phone at first. By the time he saw the tag, it was too late.
No one responded in the group chat for a long time.
Chen Zemian hadn’t seen the message. Ye Chen saw it—but didn’t know how to respond.
So, under Xiao Kesong’s two messages, the only person not tagged replied.
[Lu Zhuonian]: He’s already there.
[Xiao Kesong]: ? . ?
[Ye Chen]: …
[Chen Zemian]: .
Because of the leaked video, Chen Zemian had to leave the nightclub early.
For a while after that, he stopped going out to party.
Rumors that Lu Zhuonian was furious over his boyfriend’s wild behavior spread quickly.
Zhao Yang had to ask several times before Chen Zemian finally agreed to meet up. He apologized and promised he’d stick to private venues in the future.
Chen Zemian looked like he’d been scolded. He asked listlessly, “Where’s private enough?”
Zhao Yang looked around, then leaned in and whispered, “Let’s go to sea.”
Chen Zemian perked up. “Is it safe out there?”
Zhao Yang nodded. “Totally safe. Security check before boarding, and everyone has to hand in their phones. You can do whatever you want.”
Thanks to his tireless efforts, Zhao Yang finally brought Chen Zemian fully into his circle and prepared to take him to an exclusive event.
Chen Zemian excitedly told Lu Zhuonian the good news: “See? Your anger worked wonders. To compensate me, Zhao Yang invited me to the cruise dinner next week.”
The luxury cruise didn’t sell tickets to the public. Attendance was by internal invitation only. From Friday to Sunday—three days and two nights—the cruise would head to international waters, where guests could enjoy a weekend of unrestrained debauchery.
There were theatrical performances, resident bands, deck surfing, skydiving simulators, private pools, and international cuisine. But the real attraction was the themed shows centered around “temptation.”
Zhao Yang even confirmed with Chen Zemian who he wanted to meet during the dinner.
Chen Zemian had officially become Huanyu Company’s guest and received his ticket to the inner banquet.
Lu Zhuonian said, “This is probably their usual method of entertaining investors.”
Chen Zemian replied, “So we should be able to get solid evidence on the ship—but I’m not sure how to collect it. It’d be great if we could bring Fu Guanlan aboard.”
Lu Zhuonian was silent for a few seconds. “Give him the clues. He’ll know what to do.”
Chen Zemian paused. “You mean… I shouldn’t go?”
Lu Zhuonian replied simply, “Let me tell you what I’ve found. Then you can decide.”
The private detective had gathered new information on Huanyu Media.
He compiled a list of everyone who’d signed contracts with Huanyu over the years. Most had either been shelved, retired, or involved in scandals.
After many years, most were reluctant to speak. But a few opened up in exchange for payment.
Old wounds began to crack open.
Two admitted to being sexually assaulted. Another had filed a police report but later withdrew after receiving a large cash settlement.
“The compensation was in cash—no way to trace the source,” Lu Zhuonian relayed. “But afterward, each of them received an overseas remittance from a foreign sanatorium.”
Following that trail, Lu Zhuonian found the real manager of the sanatorium.
Chen Zemian held his breath. “Who?”
Lu Zhuonian: “Xiao Qiwu.”
*****
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Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
