MACRM Chapter 53

The PR staff heard the noise and, startled, blurted out, “You’re not dating Agent Lin?! We all thought—” 

Lin Zhu raised a hand and hung up the phone.

The agent closed his eyes for a moment and spoke softly, “Don’t listen to his nonsense…”

Zhong Yao didn’t speak. A chill slowly crept down Lin Zhu’s back. His gaze fell on Zhong Yao’s hand resting on his knee. His fingertips twitched a little and curled in.

Lin Zhu pressed his lips together, forcing a smile. “Zhong-laoshi, I—”

His Zhong-laoshi had a good temper and never overthought. As long as no one pointed it out, if he said ‘a lifetime,’ then it would really be a lifetime.

They could act together until they were seventy-five. When they couldn’t act anymore, they could be guest judges, or go back to school and teach. Lin Zhu would help carry his lesson plans; after class they could stroll around campus, drag any young actors who weren’t serious about acting over for a proper lecture.

He hadn’t had the chance to tell Zhong Yao any of this yet.

If only… that phone call had come a bit later.

Lin Zhu took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, told himself he should get up and gather his things, saving his strength to stand But Zhong Yao pulled him back into his arms.

Zhong Yao’s palm was uncharacteristically cool, holding his hand. “We…”

He had only just recovered from his daze, and somehow looked even more nervous than Lin Zhu. His expression softened unbelievably, little sparks of light jumping in his dark eyes. “We… can date too?”

Lin Zhu trembled slightly.

Zhong Yao’s gaze grew brighter inch by inch.

Head aching so much that his thoughts turned a little hazy, Lin Zhu closed his eyes briefly, spent the courage for the next eighteen lifetimes, and asked in a trembling whisper, “Then… what do you think?”

“I originally thought we couldn’t… When you reach my age, sooner or later you’ll get married, have children, start a family of your own.”

Zhong Yao let out a small laugh, subconsciously started rambling. “But you probably won’t marry someone in the industry, so we’d still be partners. As long as I keep acting, we can stay together. When your son grows up, I’ll have him call me godfather. If he wants to enter showbiz, I’ll act with him. If he wants to do business, I’ll endorse his products…” 

Seeing that Zhong Yao was about to list out every detail of his hypothetical son’s life after the age of eighteen, Lin Zhu couldn’t hold back anymore. His breath rushed out in one go, all tension dissolving. He felt like laughing through tears. “You’re planning out my son’s life, but what about you? Shouldn’t I also get some benefit out of this—”

Zhong Yao smiled. “I don’t need any.”

Lin Zhu froze.

For the first time, Zhong Yao spoke openly about his own plans. He was a bit uneasy, clearing his throat. “People in this industry… don’t really marry early. I’ve heard them say it’s not unusual to never marry at all.”

Since actors had to report their personal relationship expectations to their agents, Zhong Yao was worried he wasn’t convincing enough and added several explanations, “I focus on acting. I don’t have the time to take care of a family. When I first started acting, I realized I’m not good at being close with people. Whenever I film intimate scenes I freeze up. And off-camera is even worse. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone…”

The thing he had wanted Lin Zhu to answer the call for was exactly this matter.

Lin Zhu listened in a daze, warmth slowly rising through him, his heart soft beyond belief. “Then… you won’t get married?”

Zhong Yao was cornered by the question, replying softly and vaguely. “I don’t like marriage…”

Lin Zhu closed his eyes, resting against Zhong Yao’s shoulder.

He understood.

This had been Zhong Yao’s original plan.

Zhong Yao intended to watch him marry, start a family, have a child, then continue acting for life. As long as he kept acting, they could stay partners forever. They would be together as lifelong friends…

Lin Zhu’s chest burned with pain. He gripped Zhong Yao’s clothing tighter. “Then— when I’m spending time with my family, what will you do? And when you turn seventy-five and can’t act anymore? I’m your agent, if you can’t act, I won’t have a job…”

“My professor said as long as I want to return, the school can rehire me anytime.”

Zhong Yao didn’t know how to say romantic words nor understand them. Lin Zhu’s question made him nervous; he straightened slightly. “Then I’ll go back to teach. You can help me, like helping me carry my lesson plans, or walking with me. I’ll have a salary. I can support your family and—”

The rest of his words were muffled completely by Lin Zhu pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I won’t start a family.”

Lin Zhu’s hands trembled slightly, so he simply used both arms to hold Zhong Yao even tighter. “Ge… do you need time to prepare? If you don’t, I’m going to confess right here. I can’t hold it in anymore tonight…”

Zhong Yao’s heartbeat was just as fast, thudding through their clothes against Lin Zhu’s chest.

Lin Zhu didn’t want to hold back anymore. He inhaled sharply, gathered his courage, braced himself to speak, only for Zhong Yao to cover his mouth in a panic.

“No.” Zhong Yao spun in circles internally. “It’s too hasty. Wait— wait a moment. I— I have something I want to show you. No matter what, I’m the one who should be pursuing you. It has to be proper. Doing it like this is too disrespectful to you…”

Lin Zhu was lifted and set aside, then immediately scooped up again and placed onto the bed in the master bedroom. Zhong Yao locked the door firmly and strode quickly to the bookshelf.

Stunned by his sudden intensity, Lin Zhu let the blanket wrap around him tightly, wide-eyed as he watched Zhong Yao open the bookshelf, push aside a hidden panel, revealing a glass-walled display cabinet.

Inside were only a few simple items: a bouquet, a letter, and a small hand-woven grass rabbit.

Lin Zhu froze, meeting Zhong Yao’s gaze.

Zhong Yao smiled softly. “I can’t take them out. They’re old now, too dry and too brittle. They’d fall apart if I touched them.”

The tips of his ears were still red. His long fingers curled into his palm. He walked to Lin Zhu, took his hand, and led him to the glass case.

The bunch of wild golden money flowers, dried into a bouquet, still bloomed as fiercely as they had three years ago, blazing bright across his vision.

Lin Zhu knelt outside the glass case, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead gently against it.

Zhong Yao: “So…”

Zhong Yao knelt beside him, lightly tapping his arm, his voice soft as if afraid to disturb something precious: “From now on… I can like you… right?”

Lin Zhu had been prepared, but his eyes still burned hot.

He clutched Zhong Yao’s sleeve, inching into his arms, relaxing completely as he settled onto the carpet, bowing his head into Zhong Yao’s neck: “Yes…”

He still had many things he wanted to say, but the feeling of everything finally settling into place was too good. The emotional upheaval of the night had exhausted every bit of his strength. All he wanted was to stay in Zhong Yao’s arms a little longer.

Zhong Yao held him, gently rubbing his back in slow strokes. “I think… I think I turned back when I walked out of the press conference. I remember I did. Can we count that as the moment we first met? In case I ever have to write an autobiography…”

Lin Zhu burst out laughing. “You’d include that too?”

Zhong Yao’s voice was soft and earnest. “Everything that ever made me happy has to do with you. Of course it should be written.”

Lin Zhu’s chest grew warm, and he nestled closer.

Zhong Yao already knew what he liked to hear, speaking to him in a soft rhythm, teasing him now and then, slowly helping him settle completely.

Lin Zhu narrowed his eyes slightly and lifted his head.

He felt a little dizzy and weak all over, but instinctively couldn’t bear to leave this embrace. He quietly listened to Zhong Yao speak, his gaze drifting across the glass cabinet before unconsciously landing on the little woven-straw rabbit.

Noticing his line of sight, Zhong Yao also looked over. He brushed a fingertip across the glass and smiled. “This one is even older. I got it when I’d just debuted, from my very first little fan…”

It was his first time dating someone, and Zhong Yao worried that he might be too boring and make Lin Zhu feel wronged. He just wanted to talk more with him. He was about to share some stories from the past when his fingers brushed Lin Zhu’s palm, then his heart instantly tightened.

Zhong Yao’s brows drew together. He lifted Lin Zhu and set him back on the bed, softly calling him twice.

Lin Zhu had relaxed too much and accidentally fallen asleep. Only after being called several times did he finally open his eyes. “Ge…”

“Do you feel unwell?” Zhong Yao touched his burning palm, then felt his forehead. He quickly bundled him tightly in the quilt and called Lin Zhu’s assistant.

Lin Zhu only felt dizzy. In a fog, he shook his head, instinctively curling toward him.

He’d been worn out these past few days, and today’s emotional turmoil had been far too intense. His body had no strength at all; even the space between his brows tightened in discomfort.

Zhong Yao pulled him close just in time, letting him lean against his shoulder, soothing him in a soft voice until he settled again.

Fifteen minutes later, the Lin family’s private doctor arrived and put the young master on an IV drip. 

Lin Zhu’s constitution had always been poor. Though years of careful nourishment had helped, whenever the seasons changed he still inevitably fell mildly or moderately ill. Once the fever broke, it was usually nothing serious.

The doctor remembered Lin Song’s instructions clearly: don’t look where he shouldn’t, don’t spread or fabricate rumors. With his head lowered, he explained to Zhong Yao, “He was too frail as a child, and now, too late to fix the foundation afterward. But he’s much better this year. In past years he’d be much worse…”

By now the full force of his discomfort had hit. He curled under the blankets, coughing lightly, brows knitted tight.

The veins on his hands were thin. It took several tries to place the IV, leaving a small bruise. Zhong Yao’s heart sank at the sight. He wanted to pull Lin Zhu into his arms, but the dazed boy, unable to distinguish who was around him, instinctively pulled away.

Zhong Yao didn’t mind. He tried to straighten his clothes, but the doctor hurriedly stopped him. “When he’s feeling awful he doesn’t let anyone touch him, especially when he’s not fully conscious. Whoever touches him, he snaps at. Mr. Lin himself has been hit before.”

Zhong Yao froze for a moment.

The doctor had served the Lin family for six or seven years and was used to it. He packed his things and smiled. “The young master’s temper is firm, not pampered. He’s very strong-willed. If he’s miserable, he doesn’t need comforting. He’ll be fine when he wakes. It’s normal…”

Zhong Yao didn’t buy that. He frowned and sat down at the edge of the bed.

The doctor had been left here by Lin Song originally to treat Zhong Yao, not expecting the first patient to be the CEO’s younger brother instead. Feeling awkward, he tried to dissuade him. “Mr. Zhong—”

Zhong Yao gently closed a hand around Lin Zhu’s wrist.

Sensing something, Lin Zhu frowned in discomfort and tried to pull away.

Zhong Yao didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned down and gathered him fully into his arms. One arm circled behind Lin Zhu’s neck, tucking a soft cotton pillow beneath him.

Recognizing the scent on him, Lin Zhu blinked hazily, struggling to focus for a long moment. “Ge…”

The doctor: “!!”

Outsiders might not know, but those around them all understood just how excessive Lin Song’s protectiveness was.

Seeing the young master actually seeking out his brother when he was sick, the doctor was deeply moved. He was about to record a short video for Lin Song when Zhong Yao lowered his head in answer. “I’m here. What do you want?”

The doctor: “…”

Hearing his voice, Lin Zhu instantly softened. He found Zhong Yao’s hand and rubbed his forehead against the palm, his brows and eyes curling in a carefree smile.

The hand hanging at Zhong Yao’s side slowly curled into a fist. He said nothing, quietly adjusting the ice pack on Lin Zhu’s forehead. “Do you want some noodles? I can make a warm bowl. Once you sweat a little, you’ll feel better…”

Even while suffering, Lin Zhu still remembered that Zhong Yao had been exhausted all night. He shook his head. “Ge, I’m okay. You should sleep for a bit…”

Zhong Yao rubbed his ear gently and said nothing. He took out the small pot he used for cooking while traveling. Efficiently gathering ingredients, he returned to the bedside and cooked a simple noodle soup right there in the bedroom.

Feeling like an extra, the doctor gave a few reminders, then slipped away as fast as possible.

Zhong Yao stayed by the bed, watching over him.

The more uncomfortable Lin Zhu felt, the more he forced himself to endure. Seeing Zhong Yao busying himself, he groggily tried to sit up to help fetch a bowl, but Zhong Yao caught him and eased him back onto the pillow. “Almost done. Eat right from the pot, okay?”

Lin Zhu’s face was flushed red. He pursed his lips, eyes curving even more. “Okay.”

Softly coaxing him, Zhong Yao got him to agree to sit up with his support and eat on the bed. Lin Zhu wasn’t very hungry, but the fragrant, steaming noodles still stirred his appetite. He took a few bites from Zhong Yao’s hand.

Whether it was the medicine working or Zhong Yao’s old trick, after eating the noodles he really did feel much better. A fine layer of sweat beaded on his forehead.

Zhong Yao handed him warm water to rinse his mouth. After cleaning up the pot and utensils, he returned to sit beside the bed. “Do you still feel unwell?”

Lin Zhu shook his head with half-closed eyes, dozing against his shoulder.

It was already past midnight. Wanting him to rest properly, Zhong Yao carefully lowered him onto the bed, tucked in the quilt, and restored the bookcase display to its original state.

Lin Zhu didn’t resist his closeness. After sweating a bit and regaining slight strength, he instinctively began to nuzzle toward him again.

Zhong Yao drew him close, holding his wrist to check his pulse. After guarding him for a while and seeing the pulse steady, he was about to take his temperature again when Lin Zhu’s phone lit up.

Lin Zhu had remembered his words and put his phone on silent. Any incoming call would be completely quiet. He might truly have missed it otherwise.

Zhong Yao glanced at the caller ID. After brief consideration, he answered the call and stepped out to the balcony.

“Lin-laoshi?”

The PR manager’s voice came through cautiously. “Are you… okay?”

The information they’d gotten before being hung up on was too terrifying. The entire team held three emergency meetings overnight, collectively imagining a seventy-chapter melodramatic tragedy. The more they thought, the more worried they became, so they called again in the middle of the night.

“Zhong-laoshi trusts you so much. You’ll be fine! Please don’t think negatively! Anything can wait until morning!”

The PR manager was terrified their team had caused a disaster. “We really didn’t know you and Zhong-laoshi weren’t— that kind of relationship. Where are you now? Out on the street? Don’t run around. Find a hotel. If you feel awful, call us. We’ll talk with you…”

Zhong Yao lightly cleared his throat. “No need.”

He paused and added, “We’re both at my place. Lin-laoshi is asleep.”

PR: “?!!!” 

The whole team froze in terror.

Zhong Yao held back his irritation and corrected them. “Please don’t speak carelessly again…”

Cold sweat running down their backs, and the manager quickly agreed. “Yes, yes, we won’t talk nonsense. You and Lin-laoshi are absolutely pure—”

Zhong Yao: “We are now in that kind of relationship.”

PR manager: “……”

Zhong Yao glanced back into the room, confirming Lin Zhu was still resting peacefully. He felt slightly relieved. “Lin-laoshi has a fever. Push tomorrow’s schedule as much as possible. If something absolutely can’t be moved, contact me. Do not disturb his rest.”

PR manager: “!!!”

“Zhong-laoshi! Wait— Zhong-laoshi, Young Master Lin is still so young, you can’t—”

But Zhong Yao, fully focused on Lin Zhu, felt he had already explained enough. Without listening further, he hung up and returned to the bedroom.

The PR manager, who had accidentally opened Pandora’s box, crouched beside the rest of the also-rattled staff members, trembling as he held the phone… and finally lost his mind.