Chapter 11: The Assistant

Dampness seeped unbidden from the moss clinging to the cracks in the basement bricks. The aging, short-circuited hanging lamp sputtered with a crackle, flashing once before dimming the already yellowish light even further.

Flickering dimly, shadows dancing vaguely.

Fu Yanzong’s sweat-soaked shirt had long since torn open and slipped from his shoulders due to the vigorous movements. His bare, sleek muscles formed fluid, powerful lines, glistening with a watery sheen that hinted at something intimate, now half-hidden in the ambiguous glow.

Song Linyu stared at him for a long while, his lips pressing together unconsciously.

Was Fu Yanzong… not quite out of character yet?

He wanted to speak up, but Fu Yanzong clearly had no interest in hearing any explanations. The patch of skin on Song Linyu’s jaw that Fu Yanzong had pinched was already starting to feel numb and sore. In the next instant, that face loomed large in his vision as Fu Yanzong leaned in close, stopping just at Song Linyu’s lips.

Warm breath gently brushed the side of his face.

“Not dodging yet?” Fu Yanzong gazed down at him with lowered eyes, his voice carrying an indescribable huskiness. He licked his lips idly, like a cat eyeing its prey with malicious intent, a hint of teasing in his gaze.

“…I haven’t finished what I need to do.”

Song Linyu’s breath hitched for a moment, the words coming out stiffly, as if squeezed from his throat.

But his hands didn’t stop moving. In the next second, Fu Yanzong felt the cool touch of an alcohol swab against his skin.

Fu Yanzong released his grip on Song Linyu’s jaw, leaning back with his hands braced on the edge of the bed. He half-narrowed his eyes, leisurely appraising Song Linyu, who was crouched beside him.

So that’s it—he’d brought in a first-aid kit.

During the scene with Liang Jingyan just now, Fu Yanzong had been half-kneeling on the iron bed. The low-waisted jeans had rips at the knees for effect, and the rough, barbed metal frame had scraped his skin, drawing a bit of blood. It was normal, but the pain had been so faint that even Fu Yanzong himself hadn’t noticed.

As for everyone else…

Truth be told, facing a scene like that—teasingly revealing, half-concealed, charged with erotic tension, and performed by Fu Yanzong no less—it was hard for most people to tear their eyes away from his face and waist.

Fu Yanzong lazily shifted his knee, causing the tweezers in Song Linyu’s hand to miss.

Song Linyu looked up at him in confusion, thinking he’d done something wrong. He swapped out the cotton pad, adjusted his position, and bent his head to apply the medicine again.

Fu Yanzong mischievously moved it once more.

Song Linyu: …

Was he really being this childish?

Still, this version of Fu Yanzong felt a bit more like himself than before.

Song Linyu had an inexplicable sense that he would pull stunts like this.

Fu Yanzong watched as the man before him lifted his eyes again, shooting him a glance with a hint of warning. In a low voice, Song Linyu said, “Don’t move around, or it’ll hurt.”

Truth be told, Song Linyu didn’t have the delicate, soft look of a fragile flower. On the contrary, his nose was high-bridged, his lips thin, his eyebrows straight and sharp, and his voice carried a cool edge. If not for his slender build, he would have seemed quite intimidating.

From his appearance, he didn’t strike one as the nurturing type, nor someone who would readily take orders.

Which made Fu Yanzong suddenly curious. He tilted his head and asked Song Linyu, “How much money do you owe Dongyu that you’re working so hard to butter me up?”

Song Linyu met his gaze for a moment. After a long pause, a stiffness crept into his eyes that even he himself didn’t notice—something obscure and shadowed.

He blinked heavily, then lowered his head and recited a string of numbers, neither lightly nor heavily.

Fu Yanzong hummed indifferently, lifting a finger to gently rub the slightly damp strands of Song Linyu’s hair. His fingertip circled the ends before letting go. “Why’s it got decimals like that? I thought it was my phone verification code.”

The joke lacked any empathy, but it worked. At least Song Linyu let out a self-deprecating chuckle, the tension in his shoulders and back easing somewhat.

—Until Fu Yanzong started fidgeting again.

Song Linyu finally lost his patience and reached out to press down on his leg, his fingers digging in slightly as a warning. His palm pressed against Fu Yanzong’s knee, and feeling the rough fabric texture around the wound, his fingertips curled unconsciously.

“Stop moving, I’m serious…”

“Why are you so mean to me?”

Fu Yanzong cut him off with a grinning complaint before he could finish.

“It’s just a scrape, and it hurts like hell. Plus, didn’t you say earlier that you like me? Is this how you talk to me now?”

Song Linyu’s words caught in his throat, his usually narrow eye corners widening unconsciously. His lips parted and closed a few times, as if afraid to raise his voice. After a long stall, his fingertips gripped the tweezers tighter, and he asked softly, “Sorry… does it hurt a lot?”

Of course… it didn’t.

Just a scrape—nothing new for him. In the previous scenes, he’d smashed glass with his bare hands and merely shaken off his hand irritably afterward. By this standard, he would’ve passed out from the pain back then.

Fu Yanzong found Song Linyu amusing, but he deployed Movie Emperor-level acting with casual indifference, nodding as if it were no big deal.

Sure enough, Song Linyu panicked. The hand holding the tweezers froze in midair, not daring to wipe a second time.

“I’ve never applied medicine to anyone else before…”

He explained in a low murmur, his voice laced with guilt for not doing it right. A moment later, mimicking some clumsy scene from a TV drama he’d seen somewhere, he gently blew on the wound, then asked Fu Yanzong as if to confirm, “Is it better now?”

That earlier comment from Song Linyu had pleased Fu Yanzong somehow, lifting his mood enough to curb any further mischief. With great magnanimity, he nodded.

Song Linyu blew on it carefully once more, disinfected and cleaned the wound, then applied a transparent bandage.

Watching him treat it with such gravity, Fu Yanzong’s eye corner curved faintly. His pitch-black eyes, impenetrable to light, fixed quietly on Song Linyu, as if framing him within a portrait of obsidian.

A moment later, Fu Yanzong smiled and raised his hand, pressing the towel that had been draped over his waist onto Song Linyu’s head.

His vision plunged into sudden darkness, and Song Linyu instinctively tensed with wariness. But in the next second, as he lifted a corner of the snowy-white towel, he met the gaze of Fu Yanzong, who had stood up and now loomed over him.

He froze for a beat, then asked softly, “Fu Yanzong?”

“Mm.” Fu Yanzong responded casually, lifting his hand to inspect his fingertips, which had gotten damp from the alcohol swab when he stood.

The alcohol evaporated quickly, leaving a tangible chill in the stifling air.

Fu Yanzong raised his hand and brushed his fingertip—not too lightly, not too heavily—across Song Linyu’s lips, lingering deliberately.

His fingertip paused at the corner of Song Linyu’s mouth. The sharp scent of alcohol flooded Song Linyu’s nostrils, bringing a faint sting to his lips. Fu Yanzong laughed with evident delight, the little mole beneath his eye sparkling prettily, as if retaliating for that kiss that never landed.

Then, with a snap, he flicked Song Linyu’s forehead, snapping the rigidly frozen man back to reality.

“Your probation’s over, Song Linyu. Work yourself to death for me, got it?”

Fu Yanzong grinned as he bent down, ruffled Song Linyu’s messy black hair with uncharacteristic good humor, and left the set.

…

Shenlan, Xinyu News Headquarters.

The staff had just finished handling several media outlets that spread rumors about Fu Yanzong, per the higher-ups’ instructions. They were now diligently patrolling various platforms.

Though the boss had messaged that Fu Yanzong’s issue could be left alone for now, one staffer at their desk glanced at a post from a certain group, hesitated, and forwarded the link to their superior.

“Boss, this post seems related to one of our agency’s artists too. Sure we ignore it?”

The replies on the screen kept climbing.

“Rational Discussion: What’s the deal between Daddy Su and Fuyan? How’d that Hidden Face jackpot land on him?”

“? OP’s username is a weird one, wouldn’t have clocked it as Su/Tang and Fu/Yanzong without the hint.”

“What’s weird about it? Fuyan’s been called that in my group since six years ago. He just doesn’t come back and kiss ass.”

“You know he hasn’t been back in ages? You think he’d have ties to some ‘rising top star’? If you’re gonna rumor-mill, at least fake some evidence.”

“Who says I don’t have proof? Don’t make me drop the real bombshell.”

“Who buys that you do? You’d have posted by now, right? Or you’d sell it high to a studio. Why post here if you’re bored?”

“Uh, but something’s really fishy here. Hidden Face has been in prep forever, right? Fully funded by Dongyu, director wants award-winners only—Jiang Mingzhou, Zhou Rang, Xu Jinnian—they vetted everyone. Script’s a steamy dual-male-lead flick, dying to go viral.”

“Yeah, Male Lead 1 wasn’t hotly contested—needed star power, limited vets. But those post-00 kids went feral for Male Lead 2. My feed’s either ugly auditions fighting over scraps or rival black PR everywhere, can’t block it all.”

“Makes sense Fuyan snags Male Lead 1 with his trophy cabinet and Dongyu backing. But Daddy Su, still doing idol dances, switching to movies? What do his bandmates think?”

“Who the hell picked that loser Daddy Su?”

“??? Reported the upstairs commenter—what do you mean, personal attack on our Tang? I’m just a casual fan of Fu Yanzong. Everyone knows how picky he is with his colleagues. Does that mean our Tang can’t rely on real talent?”

“Holy crap, upstairs got 999 likes in one minute. Are your fans insane? Even flop groups don’t mass-report like that.”

“Our Tang, but from a casual fan.”

“LOL, no talent means no talent. Tang just needs to be pretty—someone will always hype him up and throw resources his way. Our Tang has Dongyu backing him. Who’s not some big shot? Bet Fu Yanzong begged him to join this film.”

“…. Quick-Lie Sister, dial it back. Piss off Fu Yanzong’s fans and you’re toast, I mean it. They absolutely demolished Chen Youning before—check the group chat ruins. It’s a total wasteland.”

“Quit daydreaming. Fu Yanzong going abroad doesn’t mean he got sick of local food and started craving pig head meat.”

“Nice roast. Keep it up, Fuyan—don’t let Quick-Lie Sister report me too.”

…

“System?!”

Su Tang bolted upright from his sprawl on the sofa, eyes glued to his phone as the post rocketed up the boards. Manipulating public opinion and playing the victim card were Fan Circle 101, and when it came to molding him into a top-tier superstar, the Heartthrob System handled it all seamlessly. Any fanbase that rubbed Su Tang the wrong way got the full onslaught from his supporters, courtesy of the system.

But today, this thread was veering wildly off course—and showing no signs of correcting itself.

Raising his voice, Su Tang called out again. “Wanwan! I can’t take this anymore!”

“Don’t worry, Tang Tang.” The Heartthrob System shifted from its standard electronic tone to a suave, gentle young man’s voice, expertly soothing the aggrieved Su Tang. “Our goal is to hype your ship with Fu Yanzong. The higher his fans jump now, the sweeter it’ll be when they get slapped down and turn into shippers later, right?”

Su Tang bit his lip. “Fine, but you can’t let them keep bashing me. They used to call me princess or young miss. I don’t want ‘Daddy Su’ or whatever.”

The Heartthrob System fell silent, instead puppeteering the original poster to chime in.

“Alright, everyone cool it. Some of you need to chill too. I said I have proof, and I do. Su Tang landing Hidden Face? Fu Yanzong definitely pulled strings.”

“Video link: (Silver Lake Hotel corridor—a man with his face obscured carries Su Tang into room 2901)”

“Image link: Official room assignments from the organizers—2901: Fu Yanzong”