After Transmigrating into the Main Shou, I Topped the Paranoid Big Shot 3

Chapter 3

Zong Mo learned that he didn’t have a dedicated driver; his manager, Sister An Lan, occasionally filled in. But she was, after all, a well-known and reputable manager, so she generally wouldn’t pick him up from Ruan Chi’s house to avoid being followed and someone discovering that Zong Mo was living in a wealthy man’s mansion.

Zong Mo didn’t know the specific details, but the exposure of his sponsorship was a rather important plot point later in the novel. When a wall is about to collapse, everyone gives it a push. He had already broken away from his sponsor, but his past was revealed, and with no one to stand up for him, he was ruthlessly attacked by the entire internet.

This was also the key moment for the legitimate film emperor gong to step up.

The film emperor was the film emperor; even a few words carried immense influence. He simply stated, “I believe you,” and the tide of online opinion immediately turned. Of course, this was also helped by the overt and covert assistance from the various other gongs.

Everyone quickly discovered that Zong Mo’s sponsorship was entirely against his will. He had signed with an entertainment company while in school, thinking he would soar to fame, only to find out it was a shell company specializing in scamming people for breach of contract fees. For Zong Mo to participate in any public activities, he first had to pay an exorbitant penalty, as well as fees for various training programs that never existed.

Completely barred from any performing arts activities, Zong Mo couldn’t afford the penalty. Not paying meant ruining his acting career for the next twenty years. With no other options, he chose to drop out of school. He couldn’t even work as a model and could only take jobs at places like convenience stores.
The wage of a few dozen yuan per hour was pitifully low. Steeling himself, he went to a bar.
The bar was a legitimate one, but unfortunately, there were always indecent customers.

He was being harassed when Ruan Chi saved him and even offered to help pay his contract termination fee. He was incredibly grateful, but Ruan Chi’s condition was to sponsor him.

Although being “sponsored” didn’t sound very pleasant, the main shou was the main shou, after all. Aside from the backstory, which was mentioned only in passing, he never truly suffered any real losses.

To be honest, Ruan Chi owed him nothing; it was he who owed Ruan Chi.
After his name was cleared, the next person to be vilified was Ruan Chi.
However, Ruan Chi wasn’t a celebrity. Not even a single photo of him could be found online; his privacy was extremely well-protected. Plus, he was an overbearing CEO with billions in assets, so he couldn’t care less about such gossip.

An Lan didn’t send any more messages, so Zong Mo wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get to the photoshoot location.
He stood at the door for a while before Ruan Chi came over and said, “You don’t need to take a taxi today. I’ll drive you.”

A taxi?
He was a celebrity, and his usual mode of transportation to work was a taxi?
Zong Mo suddenly had the illusion that he hadn’t transmigrated into a book after all.

He got into Ruan Chi’s passenger seat, feeling a strange sense of relief.
Thank goodness Ruan Chi didn’t get a driver. If there were a driver, they would have to sit in the back together with nothing to do. What if Ruan Chi tried to start something with him again?

While his thoughts were running wild, Ruan Chi was focused solely on driving.
Viewed from the front, his eyes appeared somewhat androgynous. But from the side, his profile was as distinct as a sculpture, with smooth, clear lines.
He was very handsome, not at all inferior to a D-list celebrity like himself. A worthy Gong #2, indeed.

He had truly judged a CEO’s character by his own dirty mind.
At night, it was a normal physiological need.
During the day, he was a decisive, work-focused, abstinent CEO.
Yes, that was it.

Zong Mo noticed Ruan Chi’s lips part slightly and immediately became highly alert.
But he only said, “Light me a cigarette. It’s right by your hand.”

Zong Mo saw it but refused to offer the simple help. He said righteously, “Smoking is also bad for your stomach. Didn’t you know?”

“I wasn’t really aware,” Ruan Chi said.

“It also affects your sexual performance.”

Ruan Chi: “…”

“You seem to know quite a lot?”

Zong Mo nodded. Of course! He was a man who aspired to be the ultimate top!
It was only because Ruan Chi was keeping his eyes on the road that he wasn’t so nervous and dared to say whatever came to mind.

Ruan Chi, still focused on driving, didn’t look over but let out a soft, slightly disdainful laugh. “But you don’t seem to take very good care of your own health, do you?”

Zong Mo: …

That was definitely a jab at his performance. Absolutely.
Not to be outdone, he immediately retorted, “That’s because I was the one doing all the moving. You were just lying there enjoying it.”

Ruan Chi: “…”

The atmosphere in the car became a bit awkward.
It was broad daylight, not a suitable time for lewd talk.

Zong Mo rummaged through the glove compartment, making a clattering, rustling noise. He found a mint, and without caring if it was expired, he tore open the wrapper and stuffed it into Ruan Chi’s mouth.
“Here, eat a candy.”

Ruan Chi used his tongue to draw the mint from between his lips, then gently pressed the corner of his mouth with it.

They arrived at the photo studio.
When An Lan saw the uninvited Ruan Chi, she was utterly dumbfounded. But she didn’t dare show it too obviously, lest it seem like she had a guilty conscience for getting Zong Mo some shady job.
She also couldn’t let others know Ruan Chi’s identity.

She wiped away a bead of sweat and stammered, “CEO… CEO Chi?”
Ruan Chi gave a slight nod, indicating his satisfaction.

The photographer spotted Ruan Chi, his eyes lighting up, and he hurried over to ask, “Which little fresh meat is this?”
Ruan Chi crossed his legs, settled into a folding chair, and ignored him.

“Not a little fresh meat,” An Lan said calmly. “This is my sponsor daddy.”
Photographer: ?

Ruan Chi’s identity couldn’t be casually revealed, but since he had adopted the posture of a supervisor, he naturally couldn’t be left out in the cold. An Lan discreetly gave the editor-in-chief a heads-up.
The editor-in-chief came over and greeted several staff members. Everyone immediately stood at attention, treating Ruan Chi like an honored guest.
It didn’t matter whose sponsor daddy he was; he was a sponsor daddy.
It was always right to be deferential first.

Ruan Chi moved his chair to the space between the two cameras, giving him a perfect, unobstructed view to supervise Zong Mo.
Zong Mo soon found out why he had come to supervise.

The magazine was called DAVID. Zong Mo had never heard of it, but it looked a lot like a gender-swapped version of Playboy from his original world.
It seemed to be a large-scale magazine dedicated to the male form, catering to women and gay men.

Zong Mo: …

While waiting, An Lan called him outside and asked him why Ruan Chi had come, and if he had any objections to this job.
Zong Mo knew even less than An Lan and could only shake his head.

An Lan said earnestly, “I really hope you can make a name for yourself. Once you’re famous, you’ll have much more autonomy and won’t be like this. Although this magazine is a bit… you know… it has genuinely launched the careers of several young actors, not to mention models. Directors also like to scout for new talent here.”

Zong Mo nodded like a pecking chicken. Saying “yes, yes, yes” to everything was never wrong.
An Lan glanced at him again and asked suspiciously, “Have you gotten taller recently?”

Zong Mo froze, then said guiltily, “Maybe…”

“You can still grow in your twenties? Take fewer calcium supplements. If you get any taller, it’ll be hard to cast you opposite other actors.”
Zong Mo hurriedly nodded in agreement.

Only after An Lan left did he dare to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.
So the people in the book could tell the difference between him and the original Zong Mo?
How could this transmigration business have such loopholes?

Zong Mo hadn’t rested well, and it showed completely on his face; even makeup couldn’t hide it.
There were dark circles under his naturally alluring phoenix eyes, which were also red-rimmed. He would yawn from time to time, casting a layer of mist over his already languid eyes.
His skin was pale, but his lips were very red. No matter how you looked at it, he looked…
Overindulged in sex.

The makeup artist dared not say anything, dared not ask anything, and just fretted to himself for a long time.
“Brother Zong, you didn’t rest well yesterday?”
The question was casual and nonchalant, but Zong Mo stiffened, his yawn getting stuck.

“Then I won’t put in colored contacts for you. We’ll just photoshop the bloodshot veins out later… Actually, your foundation is really good. I feel like just covering the dark circles will be enough.”
Zong Mo had no objections and let him do as he pleased.

The lashes on his upper eyelids were long and slender, creating a natural eyeliner effect. The makeup artist added an extra line, making his gaze even deeper. The lower lash line, however, was tinged with red, giving him a somewhat pitiful look.
With every frown and expression, he looked like both a refined scoundrel and an innocent little deer.

His dark hair was styled into a loose side-swept look, revealing a smooth forehead, which made the contours of his face appear more fluid and his features more three-dimensional.
The makeup artist was very satisfied and led Zong Mo over to show his manager’s sponsor daddy.

Ruan Chi was working on his laptop again, seemingly in a video conference.
He spared a glance, gave a slight nod to indicate it was acceptable.
If you’re so busy, why did you come to supervise?
Zong Mo didn’t dare question his sponsor. He obediently walked to the center of the studio, ready for the shoot.

Before getting his makeup done, he had changed into a suit worn without a shirt. He had thought he would be shooting like that, at most unbuttoning it. He never expected it would be—
“Take off the jacket.”

Zong Mo: ?

“Take off the pants too.”
Ruan Chi finally looked up again. This time, he didn’t lower his head for a long while.
Zong Mo didn’t even dare to break a sweat, afraid of ruining his makeup.

“Just wear your underwear,” the photographer said.
A real man only wears a pair of trunks when swimming. Even though he was in front of a camera now, it shouldn’t be a big deal! …Zong Mo still couldn’t quite accept it.

Ruan Chi looked up at the sound of the photographer’s voice. After a moment, he finally opened his precious mouth: “Take them off.”

Ruan Chi hadn’t left too many marks on his body. Their encounters were always simple and direct—a few touches and then straight to the main event.
However, there were inevitably a few scratches on his back.

Zong Mo had no experience as a model to begin with, and now he was even more rigid. Fortunately, for the time being, no one asked him to turn around. But a staff member did suggest they…
Apply some oil.

Zong Mo glanced at his sponsor and said, “No… I don’t think so.”
Ruan Chi uncrossed his legs, put down his work, and walked over to ask, “What kind of oil is this?”

“Olive oil… is that okay?” The staff member’s throat tightened; he almost called him Daddy.
Zong Mo felt like a piece of fish on a cutting board.

Ruan Chi asked again, “What’s this for?”
The staff member patiently explained, “Applying it will make the muscles more defined, making him look healthier and more… sexy.”

“Mm,” Ruan Chi nodded and held out his hand. “I’ll do it.”
Zong Mo: …

He really was just a piece of fish on a cutting board.
The staff member didn’t dare to touch him and just pointed at his body from a distance.
Ruan Chi, however, rolled up his sleeves, squeezed a dollop of oil into his own hand, rubbed it evenly, and then spread his palm against Zong Mo’s body, smearing it inch by inch.

Zong Mo had thought being oiled up like a steak would be uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel any greasiness at all, only two overly slick, slightly cool hands.
Zong Mo: …

Sometimes, he really wished things could be as direct as they were at night.
The staff member whispered a reminder, “Um, CEO Chi, you don’t need to apply it so meticulously. A quick rub and pat will do.”
If you keep touching him, we’re going to have a photoshoot accident.

Ruan Chi finished quickly. The manager, standing not far away, inspected Zong Mo with her eyes like a customer critiquing a chef’s dish, and said with satisfaction, “You’ve been keeping up with your workouts while resting at home? Very good, keep it up.”
Zong Mo: …

Regardless, his physique was indeed quite good.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, and clearly defined abs. His skin tone wasn’t the cold white of Ruan Chi’s, not like a pale chicken from a gym, but had a healthy, sun-kissed glow.
How a physique like his could have transmigrated into a main shou was truly unreasonable.

Speaking of which, he had the impromptu late-night workout to thank. Even after being thoroughly oiled by Ruan Chi, he was then asked to strike some embarrassing poses for the camera.
He remained calm throughout, just very sleepy.
After just a few shots, his eyelids began to droop.

Ruan Chi was looking down and not paying much attention to Zong Mo, so Zong Mo looked at him. Positioned right between the two cameras, looking at him was better for concentrating than staring into the black hole of the lens.
“Zong Mo,” the photographer gently reminded him, “Wake up, open your eyes a little wider.”
“Now turn around again.”

Zong Mo’s soul had left his body. He obediently did as he was told.
Now, his back was finally exposed to the entire row of staff.

An Lan: “…”

In the industry, Zong Mo was a “parachuted” little fresh meat from a humble background.
His academic credentials were good, but unfortunately, he had dropped out.
With a face like his, it wouldn’t be surprising for him to become an overnight sensation. But the industry was never short of handsome men and beautiful women, and there were countless examples of overnight stars who quickly faded.
Yet, Zong Mo’s resources were ridiculously good. He had his own private studio right after his debut.
Any discerning person could guess he had someone backing him.

Zong Mo had zero experience handling such an awkward situation. The veteran manager, however, said without batting an eye, “Didn’t I tell you to rest well before the shoot? Why did you go get gua sha?”

[T.N.: Gua Sha : A traditional Chinese healing technique that involves scraping the skin with a massage tool to improve circulation. It often leaves red or purple marks on the skin that look like bruises or scratches.]

Zong Mo: “…”

Even with such a blatant lie, no one dared to object.
Ruan Chi also spoke up at this moment, “It’s fine. Just shoot it as is.”
No one dared to disobey.
It’s fine, any weird things can be photoshopped out later.
Besides, they were a large-scale magazine. What kind of storms hadn’t they weathered!?
In fact, readers loved nothing more than to use a microscope to pick out details in their photos. The more blush-inducing, the better.
Continue shooting.

The photoshoot, which showcased his body from all angles and in various poses, was finally over.
There were hundreds of photos in total, which would have to be culled down. One would be chosen for the cover, and a few others would be placed inside the magazine.

Being on the cover of a magazine was something Zong Mo naturally looked forward to, but the thought of being displayed to the public with such photos made even the thickest-skinned person feel a little embarrassed.
And to make matters worse, Ruan Chi was leaning over, staring intently at the monitor, examining his photos.
As seriously as if he were handling work.

Zong Mo put on his clothes and rushed over, afraid that the small screen might contain something that shouldn’t be seen.
Although he was sure his lower half had been well-behaved, what if there really was something…
He glanced at the screen and froze.

So lewd.