Chapter 11
In the face of a video invitation from his sponsor daddy, the film emperor’s precious time was not worth a damn.
Besides, Zong Mo’s character setting was the main shou, a man who could never escape the main gong‘s incomprehensible love, no matter what.
He threw out a single sentence, “I have an emergency, I have to go!”
Then he ran without looking back, sprinting upstairs.
He only answered when the second video call invitation came.
Ruan Chi’s slightly displeased voice came through, “What took you so long?”
Then he noticed the person in the video had a flushed face, was covered in sweat, and was panting heavily.
“Where are you?” Ruan Chi asked again, his voice deeper.
Zong Mo quickly held up his phone and scanned the room to prove his innocence, saying between breaths, “My room. I just, just finished eating downstairs, and ran, ran up.”
“You couldn’t answer the video call while eating?”
“There were a lot of people.” Since his face was already red, Zong Mo boldly lied. “So I dropped my chopsticks and immediately came back to my room.”
After a moment, Ruan Chi’s questions continued, “You only finished dinner at eight?”
Zong Mo: …
He was indeed free now, but this freedom was extremely limited.
It seemed even worse than working overtime at home.
“Earlier next time,” Ruan Chi said on his own. “Or bring it back to your room to eat.”
The sponsor daddy’s interrogation was finally over. Zong Mo slowly calmed his breathing.
He wanted to ask Ruan Chi what he wanted, but since he had already made a video call, the answer was obvious: surveillance.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Reading the script…”
“Mm. I’m working,” Ruan Chi said. “Find a stand to put your phone on the table. You don’t have to keep holding it.”
Zong Mo: …
He did as he was told.
After settling down, he switched the video from his own big head to Ruan Chi’s. He found that Ruan Chi was a bit far from the camera, his entire shoulders in the frame, so he was probably using his computer for the video call.
His gaze, however, was staring straight through the screen.
Zong Mo nervously adjusted his chair slightly, and Ruan Chi’s eyelids lifted, his gaze shifting to the top right corner.
Zong Mo realized that Ruan Chi was probably looking directly at his own computer screen, and the small video window of himself was placed in the upper corner of the screen.
So, he wasn’t staring at him the whole time. But no matter how he looked at it, it felt like he was being watched.
Like thorns on his back. Zong Mo simply lowered his head, looked at the script, and silently memorized it.
He really wanted to pick up his phone and scroll through some short videos, but he suspected Ruan Chi would suddenly ask him:
“Who are you chatting with that’s making you smile so happily?”
He would definitely do that.
It was better to read the script.
“Is that a band-aid on your face?”
Ruan Chi’s voice floated over unexpectedly, startling Zong Mo.
“I was filming a fight scene today and got a scrape,” Zong Mo said.
“Take it off. Let me see.”
Zong Mo: ?
Although he had the feeling of being caught cheating, he had been very well-behaved. He calmly showed his scrape.
Ruan Chi didn’t say anything more and continued to work.
Zong Mo continued to read the script, ten lines at a glance, his nerves highly strung. He couldn’t absorb anything, extremely tired but not sleepy.
So tired. It was even worse than “exercising.”
He couldn’t help but let out a soft cough. He immediately looked guiltily at his phone. As expected, Ruan Chi also looked up at him.
“Caught a cold?”
Zong Mo: “…I think so. I wasn’t wearing much when filming during the day.”
“Have An Lan bring you some cold medicine.”
Zong Mo let out a “mm” and picked up his phone to message An Lan. But he didn’t ask her to buy cold medicine. Instead, he said:
[Sister An Lan, can you come to my room later and tell me Director Yang needs to see me about something?]
[What something? Hurry up and call CEO Ruan back.]
Zong Mo: …
He switched back to the video with Ruan Chi and put his phone back.
He would glance at Ruan Chi from time to time, hoping An Lan wouldn’t ask him, “Did your golden canary call you back?”
Ruan Chi, however, kept his eyes on the center of his screen, focused on his work. Zong Mo relaxed, but he couldn’t quiet his mind.
So tired. He wanted to run.
There was a sudden knock on the hotel room door, like the arrival of a deity.
“I’ll get the door. It should be Sister An Lan,” Zong Mo announced, and trotted happily to the door.
The moment he opened the door, he was dumbfounded.
“I saw you seemed to have a cold. This is cold medicine.”
The film emperor, who was surrounded by adoring fans, was being unbelievably gentle and considerate in front of him.
Zong Mo: “…How did you know my room number?”
“I asked Director Yang,” Lu Bo said. “I bought a few different kinds of cold medicine. I’m not sure which one works best.”
Lu Bo showed him the plastic bag in his hand, but he didn’t seem to have any intention of letting go of it.
Zong Mo suspected Lu Bo wanted to come in. He held onto the doorframe, guarding it fiercely, and said, “Thank you. Just give it to me.”
Lu Bo’s lips suddenly curled. “Why are you so nervous? …Is someone else here?”
Zong Mo: …
“No. I’m a little tired and was about to sleep.”
Lu Bo clearly didn’t believe him, but he was just inexplicably nice. He didn’t press further, handed him the bag, and said, “Mm, take the medicine first. Go to bed early after you take it.”
“…Okay.”
“I’ll be going then. If you need anything, you can always find me. 2333.”
That will never happen in this lifetime, Zong Mo thought, but said “Okay” out loud.
He closed the door, locked it, and added the chain, then sat back down at his desk.
Ruan Chi immediately asked, “…An Lan?”
He had gotten rid of one, but there was still another one here.
Zong Mo secretly considered. From the position of the phone, Ruan Chi could see a bit of the door several meters away. However, when he opened the door, he had blocked the equally tall Lu Bo quite well. Ruan Chi probably couldn’t see him, but he definitely could hear his voice. Even if he couldn’t make out the specific content of the conversation, he could tell it was a man.
Zong Mo felt like a new-age Sherlock Holmes. He calmed his breathing and said steadily, “It’s my assistant, Little Wan.”
Ruan Chi let out a “mm.”
Zong Mo was so tired, his cold was about to get worse.
He opened the plastic bag and rummaged through it, finding a small note. He thought it was a takeout receipt or something, but when he turned it over, he saw:
Rest early. Wear more tomorrow. —Lu Bo
Zong Mo: …
He suppressed the earthquake in his pupils and slowly crumpled the note, feigning nonchalance. He didn’t dare to make any obvious noise, so he just rustled the plastic bag while crumpling the paper.
Ruan Chi, probably annoyed by the sound of the plastic bag, spoke coldly, “What are you doing?”
Zong Mo instantly broke out in a cold sweat.
“Looking for the medicine.”
He opened a packet of medicine and went to throw away the packaging and the incriminating paper ball together.
Ruan Chi asked, “…Where are you going now?”
“Throwing out the trash,” Zong Mo said. “Am I being too loud for you? Should I mute my sound?”
Ruan Chi only said, “No.”
Zong Mo reviewed the scenes he had to film tomorrow several times, but just reading the script without practicing felt like something was missing.
After he failed to force himself on the female lead, there was a scene where he smoked alone in the shabby little house. It was also the most sexually tense and heart-wrenching scene in the entire film.
Director Yang had specifically moved this scene to be filmed earlier, probably not to make things difficult, but because he thought it was simple.
Unfortunately, Zong Mo didn’t actually know how to smoke.
Anyway, the person on the other end of the video couldn’t smell the smoke. Zong Mo took out the cigarettes and lighter he had bought on the street and began to practice.
Ruan Chi had practiced the pointless kiss scene with him but had forgotten to practice this.
The sound of the lighter didn’t attract the attention of the work-obsessed CEO. Instead, after taking a drag of the cigarette, he was caught off guard and choked, then coughed violently.
“…What are you doing?”
“Cough, cough, maybe I should mute my sound?”
Only then did Ruan Chi realize he was smoking.
Zong Mo knew that the original Zong Mo was a main shou who embodied all excellent qualities. He didn’t smoke, nor did he drink much. The few times he did drink were either to accompany his sponsor or to advance the plot.
For example, a colored plot.
[T/N: Colored plot: A euphemism for explicit or sexual content. “Color” is often used in Chinese slang to refer to something lewd]
That wasn’t important. Anyway, neither Zong Mo knew how to smoke, so he didn’t need to pretend.
Ruan Chi had never seen him smoke and didn’t know if he could. Now he could also tell. “Why are you suddenly smoking? Do you even know how?”
“There’s a smoking scene tomorrow,” Zong Mo said. “Just practicing.”
“What’s there to practice about that?”
“I have to smoke… beautifully. Director Yang’s instructions,” Zong Mo said. The original word was actually “lewdly.”
“So that’s how it is. That’s why they came to you for the role after seeing that magazine.”
Reminded by him, Zong Mo also realized that this script offer was nine times out of ten due to that deceptive cigarette-lighting cover.
Ruan Chi let out a low laugh, left the screen without a word, and returned with props in his hand.
“Shall I practice with you?”
The upward lilt of his voice was like a hook, reeling one in.
Ruan Chi quickly got into character. He even turned off the overhead light in his room, leaving only a dim yellow desk lamp on.
He held the cigarette between his index and middle fingers. It was the most ordinary gesture, and the white cigarette was also ordinary, yet it managed to hold one’s gaze tightly.
His fingers, like green onion stalks, were curved, the distinct knuckles protruding. As he tapped the ash into the ashtray, Zong Mo felt as if he himself had been tapped somewhere.
?
“Don’t look directly at the camera. It will seem too deliberate,” Ruan Chi said, and he really didn’t look over again.
Zong Mo watched him, relieved. Ruan Chi said no more, exhaling smoke in the silence.
He even propped his chin with his other hand, leaning closer to the camera.
His eyes were lowered, stripped of all their sharp gazes. And when he wasn’t giving orders, he no longer seemed so much like a sponsor.
Only like a lover.
Zong Mo: …
Why is his tongue so red?
It must be the low resolution of the built-in webcam causing color distortion, right…?
In just a few short minutes, a slideshow played non-stop in Zong Mo’s mind.
The most eye-catching part was the so-called kiss scene training.
Gentle sucks, soft grinds. And the strands of hair that always touched his eyes, scratching at the thread in his brain, one by one.
It didn’t take long for the thread to snap, and then they would roll onto the bed.
They had trained, but there were still no feelings, just a few more skills. The rest was all the most primitive desire.
His body must have adapted to the high-intensity midnight exercise, which was why he had become so sensitive. Just watching a video could make his whole body restless.
Ruan Chi stubbed out the cigarette. About five minutes had passed.
Zong Mo couldn’t wait another second. He quickly said, “I’m going to the bathroom.”
He ran off without waiting for his sponsor’s permission.
He dawdled for a long while, hiding in the bathroom, washing his hands over and over, checking himself in the mirror several times to confirm his complexion was normal.
Only then did he reluctantly sit back down in his chair. As soon as he sat down, Ruan Chi looked over, his gaze sharp. “More than half an hour. Were you in the toilet?”
Zong Mo: “…Mm.”
Ruan Chi: “Heh.”
