Category: Male God is Chasing My Brother (Page 12 of 13)

An Xumo shook his head and retracted his freed right hand to his side to block it. “It’s fine.”

Judging from Zhou Jinchen’s reaction, it was clear that he had experienced something before, which made him so vigilant upon waking up.

In fact, ever since Zhou Jinchen debuted, An Xumo has been following his Moments. Back when he was in the Zhou family, he could freely buy all sorts of things related to Zhou Jinchen. Moreover, the Zhou family didn’t really care, so tidying up these items naturally became An Xumo’s responsibility. Later, when he left to become a trainee, he had fewer opportunities to buy such things, but he still kept up with the latest information as soon as it was available.

Even so, what An Xumo could see of Zhou Jinchen was merely the images filtered through countless camera lenses. As for what was actually happening around him, An Xumo had very limited knowledge.

Zhou Jinchen didn’t seem to want to talk about it either. He didn’t even notice the obvious red marks on An Xumo’s wrist. Rubbing his temple, he opened his carry-on bag. After a quick cleanup with hand sanitizer, he looked slightly better, and the imposing aura around him also softened considerably.

The accompanying bodyguards were seated in business class. Following Zhou Jinchen’s instructions, they also took An Xumo’s luggage along with his. Tang Tang, who was about to collect the luggage, was visibly startled. A group of tall, expressionless men suddenly took their name-tagged luggage—if not for Zhou Jinchen standing nearby, she would have thought they were about to experience some kind of airport thriller.

Many fans were waiting at the airport exit to pick up their idols. Before even reaching downstairs, An Xumo saw the spectacular scene below through the glass while riding the elevator. The recording of <Weekend with a Sunny Day> hasn’t been officially announced, but devoted fans have still managed to find out through various channels. These past two days were when the guests and regular members were arriving, so several fan groups had set up grand welcome formations outside the airport, showcasing the program’s immense popularity.

However, Zhou Jinchen had never been fond of making appearances during his private time. Since his debut, he has made this clear and has maintained this stance for the past five years. His fans were also very cooperative, consistently joining forces to resist the resale of their idol’s flight information and never proactively organizing airport receptions, always standing firmly in support of his privacy.

Airport receptions were a way for fans to express their affection, but at the same time, they were also an important metric. Various resources considered these statistics when selecting representatives. To some extent, an artist’s popularity could be directly reflected in the number of fans present at the airport, which was also why hiring people to pose as fans for airport receptions had become a short-term gig in the industry.

Clearly, Zhou Jinchen had no need to prove his popularity through such means. An Xumo and Tang Tang followed him, along with the accompanying bodyguards, as they took the VIP passage to leave the airport directly.

By the time they arrived at the hotel, it was already afternoon. Since the production team needed to film some behind-the-scenes footage of other guests arriving at the airport, for now, the only artists at the hotel were the two of them. These clips wouldn’t be included in the main episode but would only appear in later behind-the-scenes edits, making it a relatively unimportant task. Because of this, Zhou Jinchen didn’t have An Xumo make an appearance.

The front desk staff guided them to their rooms—An Xumo was staying next door to Zhou Jinchen, while Tang Tang was with the program staff. After briefly unpacking, An Xumo, feeling uncertain about his first time on a variety show, hesitated for a moment before finally knocking on the door next door.

The door opened from the inside, and Zhou Jinchen, still damp from his shower, looked down at him. Droplets of water slid down his handsome face and even wrapped in a bathrobe, his well-proportioned physique remained evident. An Xumo froze for a second. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Zhou Jinchen said nothing, simply stepping aside to let him in. As An Xumo entered, Zhou Jinchen’s gaze lingered briefly on the red marks around his slender wrist.

An Xumo didn’t notice this. He stepped in carefully while Zhou Jinchen walked past him, drying his hair, and tapped his phone to answer a call.

Since he was still wet, Zhou Jinchen put the call on speaker. A man’s voice came through from the phone: “Third Young Master, we recorded a conversation at the airport.”

“Who?”

“A guest from the same program as you.”

An Xumo instinctively wanted to step away, but the door was already closed. No matter what he did now, it would seem deliberate. Before he could finish hesitating, the bodyguard added, “They mentioned you and Mr. An Xumo during their conversation.”

Before An Xumo could react, Zhou Jinchen had already given a direct order over the phone. “Play it.”

A burst of noisy background sounds played before the audio gradually cleared up. A stranger’s male voice spoke: “Brother Chen should have arrived by now, right? Hey, Han Ming, should we wait for him?”

It was clear that they had caught the attention of Zhou Jinchen’s bodyguards because they mentioned him. Due to the distortion from the recording, An Xumo couldn’t immediately recognize the speaker, but based on what he had learned about the first season, he could make an educated guess about their identities.

The person speaking was likely Yi Tianming, a young artist who, like Han Ming, rose to fame during the first season of <Weekend with a Sunny Day>. In the second season, both he and Han Ming secured permanent cast positions.

Han Ming’s voice soon followed though he didn’t seem to agree with Yi Tianming’s suggestion. “Brother Chen probably doesn’t like airport receptions much. I haven’t seen any airport photos of him before. Besides, even if we go, we might not run into him.”

Yi Tianming was also an idol with a background in singing and dancing, but his real breakthrough came from appearing in several variety shows. Compared to Han Ming, his persona leaned more toward comedic roles. He had even guest-starred in a few web dramas, taking on some rather eccentric characters. He was clearly more uninhibited than Han Ming. “Let’s give it a shot. If we run into him, we can say hi in advance—we’re working together tomorrow anyway.”

The recording didn’t reveal their actions, but what truly caught An Xumo off guard was hearing his own name mentioned.

“Forget Brother Chen for a second. Don’t you think the new guest is more worth paying attention to?” Han Ming said to Yi Tianming. “We might even see him at the airport today.”

“Even if we do, we wouldn’t recognize him,” Yi Tianming replied dismissively. “I asked Brother Yan about it before. He said the newcomer is an artist who hasn’t debuted yet, so he’ll probably have to rely on the production team to give him screen time. We definitely haven’t seen him before.”

The Brother Yan he referred to was Yan Xiangshen, a veteran host and one of the true big names in the <Weekend with a Sunny Day> lineup.

“Oh, an artist who hasn’t debuted yet…” Han Ming’s tone carried a hint of contemplation.

Yi Tianming continued, “Anyway, he’s just someone the investors forced into the show. No one in the production team even knows much about him. But from what I see, he’s probably like that surprise addition in the first season—just here to grab some screen time and keep the investors happy. There’s no way he’s going to outshine us.”

Han Ming agreed, adding, “Yeah, screen time has to be earned with some skill.”

Yi Tianming let out a short laugh. “Now that you mention it, I remember that cringeworthy surprise addition from the first season. Even Brother Yan threw him some prompts, but he didn’t pick up on a single one. When the show aired, all his screen time was just close-ups of his stunning looks, but in the end? He attracted more haters than fans. It made me laugh to death.”

Listening from the side, An Xumo couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward. He could tell that the resident cast members weren’t particularly welcoming toward temporary additions.

Yi Tianming’s voice continued, though this time, he lowered it slightly. Whatever tools Zhou Jinchen’s bodyguards were using, they had managed to record everything clearly. “I heard ah, one of the show’s investors this time is a bald old man who specifically keeps young male artists. He’s the same creep who harassed your former groupmate. The surprise addition today is probably another guy, right? Maybe…”

An Xumo instinctively glanced at Zhou Jinchen beside him. The man, whom Yi Tianming had just referred to as a “bald old man,” was casually combing back his damp hair with the back of his fingers. His sharp and handsome features became even more pronounced with the movement. He acted as if he hadn’t heard a word from the phone, casually tossing his towel aside and wordlessly pulling out his still-unopened suitcase.

The sound of rolling suitcase wheels blended with the continued conversation on the phone. Yi Tianming hadn’t finished his sentence, but his meaning was already clear. They chatted a bit more about Zhou Jinchen’s schedule, though it was obvious they wouldn’t have been able to wait for him since he had already left early.

Once the recording ended, the bodyguard briefly reported a few other things, but An Xumo didn’t quite understand them. Zhou Jinchen, still unfazed, responded with a few simple acknowledgments before hanging up.

The room fell into silence. Though An Xumo had mentally prepared himself for this kind of reception, and he didn’t particularly care about others’ opinions, he still felt a bit uneasy in front of Zhou Jinchen. After all, this was an opportunity Zhou Jinchen had fought for on his behalf—it was a significant starting point for him.

Just as An Xumo was about to speak, a knock suddenly sounded at the door. Zhou Jinchen glanced toward it and said to An Xumo, “Stand further inside.”

The layout of the room meant that the person at the door wouldn’t be able to see the inner area. An Xumo obediently pressed himself against the wall, watching as Zhou Jinchen walked past him. The man was still wrapped in his bathrobe, but now that the moisture on his body had been wiped away, he looked a little less like the enticing, just-out-of-the-shower version from earlier.

But even though he appeared more restrained, it was only in comparison—An Xumo had been aware of Zhou Jinchen’s charm long before his debut.

As the door opened, a chorus of startled exclamations erupted from outside. Clearly, more than one person was standing at the door. Amid the commotion, An Xumo heard Han Ming’s voice: “Brother Chen, we meet again.”

The most conspicuous reaction, however, came from Yi Tianming, who grinned and said, “Following Brother Yan really brings good fortune—I didn’t expect to see Brother Chen fresh out of the bath.”

Thinking about it, he knew that when he marveled so much, he had completely failed to remember the bald old man he had spat out earlier.

It was obvious that when he marveled like this, he had completely forgotten his earlier remark about the bald old man.

The author has something to say:

I originally planned for an extra update at chapter twenty, but at this rate, it looks like reaching a thousand comments might have to wait until after the VIP chapters go up QAQ.

Looking forward to today’s comments (☆-☆)!

Translator’s Note:

Hi! I just translated chapters 1-13 so as to have complete translated chapters here. Just a heads up, the next chapters till the end are translations from 2020, so they are different from these ones. In case you guys might wonder about the sudden change of style in translation. Thank you. Enjoy^^

When An Xumo was struck by the bat, he didn’t have any particularly strong reaction. Seeing Zhou Jinchen afterward and the satisfaction of being with his brother further dulled most of the pain. But after just a single meal, a sudden, searing pain flared up on his back, as if it had been set on fire, the previously ignored agony surging back all at once.

The man beside him made a phone call first, then, after hanging up, started asking, “Was it those people from before?”

An Xumo barely managed to nod, fresh blood seeping from the corner of his lips, staining most of his already pale lips red.

In his dazed state, he vaguely felt someone wiping the blood from his mouth. He wanted to thank them, but his throat was filled with the taste of iron. He wasn’t even sure if he had spoken at all—he only felt that despite being in a temperature-controlled room in the middle of summer, a persistent chill kept burrowing into his skin, making his teeth chatter uncontrollably.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before a strong yet cool hand helped him up. It seemed like someone else was checking his back, as he felt continuous pressure being applied there. Voices murmured around him, but all An Xumo could remember was leaning against someone’s chest. The person’s buttons pressed uncomfortably into him, and there was a faint, cold scent on their body.

After that, An Xumo lost consciousness and knew nothing more.

The fire on his back burned into his heart as if an unseen hand was relentlessly adding fuel to the flames. Meanwhile, the front of his body felt like it was plunging into an icy abyss, his limbs so cold they were on the verge of freezing stiff. An Xumo struggled for a long time before grasping a sliver of light. He fought his way out of the tormenting contrast of fire and ice, and only after a while did he realize he had already opened his eyes.

The surroundings were dim. Night had fallen, and the room was unlit, with only a sliver of light seeping through the doorway not far away. An Xumo found himself lying face down; the burning pain on his back had eased considerably, seemingly covered and treated with medicine. Faint voices drifted in from outside, and as he strained to listen, a somewhat familiar male voice said, “Call me when he wakes up. I’ll have someone pick him up. I have to go now—Jinchen still has things to deal with.”

An Xumo, still groggy, couldn’t immediately recognize the voice. Someone else asked if the first man was going home tonight, but after a couple of perfunctory replies, the noises outside suddenly vanished.

An Xumo propped himself up against the edge of the bed and sat up. The wound on his back felt slightly numb but no longer hurt as much. He fumbled around the bedside in the dark and found a pair of slippers. Without thinking much, he instinctively walked toward the door where the light was coming from and pulled open the half-closed door.

If he had known what was happening outside, he wouldn’t have been so reckless. But it was too late for regrets—An Xumo was startled to find that the room outside was a doctor’s office.

Of course, being in a hospital wasn’t surprising in itself. The real shock was that two people were standing in the office—kissing.

The person facing away from him was Xin Zimai. His slightly curled hair at the nape of his neck made him easy to recognize. What was even more unexpected was that the person he was kissing was also a man—someone dressed in a doctor’s white coat, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and standing a good half-head taller than Xin Zimai, who was already over 1.8 meters tall.

The man looked refined and well-mannered, but when he glanced over, his sharp gaze was evident even through the lenses.

An Xumo immediately felt awkward. He didn’t dare make a sound, afraid of alerting Xin Zimai, who had his back to him. After hastily making an apologetic gesture toward the stranger who had seen him, An Xumo carefully retreated back into the room.

The door was ajar, allowing the voices from outside to filter in clearly. Xin Zimai’s voice carried a distinct note of panic: “What the hell are you doing…”

The other man, however, responded with a faintly amused tone, “Just checking off tasks from our pre-wedding list. We have to complete them one by one.”

His voice sounded much gentler than the sharp gaze he had directed earlier. Though An Xumo didn’t understand what they were talking about, he obediently sat back down on the bed and waited. As he reached for his back, he confirmed that it was indeed wrapped in bandages.

“I would never…” Xin Zimai started, only to angrily cut himself off midway. His voice then shifted slightly farther away. “I have to go… Hey, was the door to that room open just now? Did Xiao An wake up?”

An Xumo was startled, but what he didn’t expect was that the man who had clearly seen him earlier calmly replied, “No, it was like that before.”

“Really…” Xin Zimai still sounded a little doubtful, but he didn’t seem inclined to stay any longer. After a brief, hurried “I’m leaving, then,” he turned to go.

“I’ll call you when he wakes up,” the other man said.

“Thanks for the trouble.”

After the sound of the door closing, the room finally fell silent. Light footsteps approached, and a man pushed open the partition door, reaching out to switch on the light. “You’re awake?”

Only then did An Xumo realize that the place he had been sleeping in was a small resting area sectioned off from the main room. The space was tiny, just big enough to fit a bed and two chairs. As he glanced around at the furnishings, the man at the door spoke, “Non-critical patients aren’t allowed to take up hospital beds. You were sleeping in my break room. Don’t worry, the sheets were changed.”

An Xumo hadn’t meant anything else. He pressed his lips together and said softly, “Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.”

The man gave him a once-over, his tone softening slightly. “If you remember not to eat seafood after getting injured next time, then I won’t have gone through this trouble for nothing.”

Only then did An Xumo realize why he had suddenly felt such intense pain earlier. He looked up at the man. “Thank you… Dr. Li. I’ll remember that in the future.”

A name tag pinned to the white coat read Li Qiucheng. Li Qiucheng stepped forward to check the bandages on An Xumo’s back before saying, “It’s nothing serious. Take off the bandages tomorrow and reapply the medicine. The ointment is on the desk outside. Don’t let the wound get wet for three days, avoid spicy food, meat, and seafood. Rest for a week, and you’ll be fine.”

An Xumo thanked him again, picked up his jacket from the bedside, and put on his shoes. By the time he stepped out, Li Qiucheng had already returned to the office outside. While retrieving the ointment, An Xumo noticed that Li Qiucheng was on a call with Xin Zimai. Xin Zimai told him to wait at the hospital entrance—Tang Tang would be coming to pick him up.

An Xumo actually wanted to ask about Zhou Jinchen, but he had already caused enough trouble today and didn’t feel right bringing it up. As he left, Li Qiucheng was still on the phone, seemingly discussing something else. An Xumo didn’t linger, carefully closing the door behind him as he left.

By the time he saw Tang Tang, it was already past ten. She had obviously heard about what had happened that afternoon. Though she had many questions, her concern for An Xumo outweighed her curiosity, so she didn’t press him for details. She only told him to rest well and assured him that she would handle everything.

An Xumo was so tired that he slept most of the way in the car in a daze. When he got back to the dorm, he barely tidied up before collapsing into bed and falling into a deep sleep.

Another half a month passed, and as expected, those seven trainees never appeared again. An Xumo had heard Tang Tang mention once that their contracts had been downgraded to the subsidiary company, but he had never been particularly concerned about other people’s matters. Once the issue was resolved, he simply returned to his routine of training for over ten hours a day.

By the time the injury on his back had almost healed, An Xumo was debating whether to buy the limited edition cover of <Bright> featuring Zhou Jinchen. But before he could make a decision, Tang Tang suddenly requested leave for him, hauled him onto a plane with a pile of luggage.

First-class seats, no less.

When An Xumo asked, it turned out that the recording for <Weekend with a Sunny Day> was about to begin.

Their destination was Sanya, the filming location for Season 2 of <Weekend with a Sunny Day>. An Xumo had already watched the first season in preparation, but since the location and segments were different this time, there were changes to the format as well. Plus, this was also his first time officially appearing on camera, so he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

However, that nervousness took on a completely different meaning when, during their layover, he saw the man seated next to him.

—This was also An Xumo’s first time officially presenting himself in front of his brother.

Zhou Jinchen had just rushed over from a previous engagement. As soon as he boarded, he stowed his luggage, put on an eye mask and earplugs, and immediately fell asleep. Even the blanket covering him had been carefully placed by An Xumo after requesting one from the flight attendant.

They sat side by side, with Tang Tang seated in the row behind them. The flight lasted over three hours, and it wasn’t until the landing announcement played that An Xumo cautiously tried to wake up the man sleeping beside him.

“Senior, senior? Wake up, we’re almost there.”

Zhou Jinchen’s sleeping posture was steady, barely moving throughout the entire flight. The tension that had been building in An Xumo’s chest for the whole trip had finally eased a little. Seeing that Zhou Jinchen wasn’t responding, he hesitated before lightly pushing his arm in an attempt to wake him.

He hadn’t expected that at that exact moment, Zhou Jinchen would suddenly reach out and grip his wrist with a force as strong as a vice.

“Wu…”

An Xumo flinched from the pain. The man in front of him had already torn off his eye mask, his sharp gaze completely unlike someone who had just woken from sleep.

An Xumo endured the pain and didn’t dare make a sound. Zhou Jinchen stared at him for a moment before seeming to realize what had happened and withdrawing his hand.

He raised a hand to rub his temple, his voice still carrying traces of drowsiness and hoarseness. When he looked over again, there was a hint of barely noticeable regret in his gaze. “Why did you call me senior… Did I hurt you?”

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Late update, sorry! Please bookmark and leave a comment =3=

Mai-zi’s CP has appeared la~ Next chapter will cover the variety show recording 0v0

An Xumo hadn’t eaten his fill in a long time.

Teenage boys always had big appetites—there was a saying that half-grown boys could eat a family into poverty. This was the stage when they were growing fast. But An Xumo’s hunger had started when he was seven years old. A decade had passed, yet his habits hadn’t changed much.

Back when he was at the Zhou family’s house, things were still manageable. Although no one cared for him, there was always food in the kitchen. An Xumo didn’t eat with Zhou Yunlin and his wife; he ate on his own, and no one controlled how much he ate. At school, meal fees were collected uniformly. Even if he wasn’t full, he could always rummage through the kitchen when he got home at night.

But being a trainee was different. Every meal was fixed in portion and schedule, and all the food was low in calories. Even sports drinks had to be bought separately. An Xumo was often starving—drinks that others despised for tasting like bitter melon juice, he finished to the last drop. Chicken breast, which many found unappetizing, he ate along with the carrot garnish. But even that wasn’t enough. When hunger struck, his only option was to buy cheap bread from the convenience store.

For a while, he had lived off compressed biscuits, the cheapest plain-flavored kind. He didn’t care about taste, only about getting full. But after eating them for too long, they left his mouth dry and his body overheated, so he eventually switched to something else.

The last time he managed to get a decent meal was at that chaotic birthday banquet. An Xumo was usually indifferent to the gazes of those around him, but that time, Zhou Jinchen had been there. The other man had given him an impatient glance, and in a daze, An Xumo had left early. In the end, he hadn’t eaten much at all.

But for An Xumo, the constant presence of hunger was something he had long since adapted to. He had many ways to suppress it—biting the tip of his tongue, doing extra training to distract himself, or secretly looking at Zhou Jinchen’s photos while eating.

Now, with Zhou Jinchen sitting right in front of him, An Xumo hadn’t even started eating, yet his perpetually empty stomach already felt comforted.

Following the server’s lead, An Xumo went to the food station. This buffet restaurant was lavishly decorated and had booked two entire floors for the event. The second floor offered grilled dishes that could be ordered and delivered, so he first explored the first floor.

The seafood section alone had four or five long counters divided into Japanese, French, Chinese, and other styles. The cooking stations had an even wider variety of dishes. As he walked, An Xumo picked up food along the way, quickly filling an entire meal cart.

The server helped push the cart back to the private dining room. The small, elegant plates covered more than half of the table. Since Zhou Jinchen wasn’t in a position to appear in public, he had asked An Xumo to bring back portions for both of them. But judging by the amount of food, even with two people, there would likely be leftovers.

After the server left, the two began eating in silence. Zhou Jinchen had originally planned to bring up the variety show after they finished their meal, but before long, he couldn’t help furrowing his brows.

Zhou Jinchen ate at a normal pace and had a standard appetite. Since he maintained a regular fitness routine, he had never deliberately dieted. But just as he was halfway full, the seemingly slender An Xumo had already eaten twice as much as him, and his eating speed hadn’t slowed down in the slightest.

Setting aside the seafood like Arctic surf clams and spicy crab, An Xumo had finished an entire bowl of sour soup beef on his own. He had eaten two servings of fried milk and sweet-and-sour pork ribs, and if Zhou Jinchen remembered correctly, he had also just polished off three slices of double-cheese pizza.

Even ordinary people who didn’t need to be camera-ready rarely ate like this. This wasn’t maintaining his figure—it was like he was trying to eat himself into a ball.

Zhou Jinchen asked, “The company’s meal plan doesn’t taste good?”

An Xumo, who was focused on eating crab roe, looked up. “The company meals? I think they’re pretty good.”

Zhou Jinchen glanced at the half-empty plates. “Haven’t been eating well these past two days?”

An Xumo wasn’t sure why he was asking, but after thinking about the fitness meal he had at noon, he honestly nodded. “A little. I haven’t really been full.”

In fact, he hadn’t felt full in a long time. But since seeing Zhou Jinchen today, that lingering sense of hunger had eased quite a bit, so he hadn’t taken too much food this time. If it were any other day, he could have eaten at least twice as much.

Although Zhou Jinchen found An Xumo’s appetite a bit odd, he didn’t dwell on it after hearing that the other hadn’t been eating well lately. Now that the conversation had started, he brought up the main topic. “Greent City TV has a variety show that will soon begin recording its second season. There’s a guest spot reserved for you. Your agent will inform you of the exact schedule, but you can check out the first season in advance to prepare.”

An Xumo, who had paused to speak, almost knocked over his soup spoon. Green City TV, second season of a variety show…

“Is it… <Weekend with a Sunny Day>?”

“En.” Zhou Jinchen took a sip of red wine. “The guest contract is only for one episode, but I’ll be on the same one as you.”

Two consecutive pieces of news sent An Xumo’s thoughts into a whirlwind. The crab roe in front of him remained unfinished, yet his stomach already felt full, his entire being overflowing with a sense of happiness and contentment.

But despite that, the sheer weight of such an opportunity crashing down on him made disbelief his most genuine reaction.

The first season of <Weekend with a Sunny Day> had propelled three young artists—including Han Ming—to stardom. In just two months, from the first episode to the finale, they had gone from complete nobodies to being greeted by thousands at the airport. And none of them were even regular cast members.

With such impressive results, the second season was set to continue with the same production team and cast lineup. It was an undeniably valuable opportunity. Not to mention a trainee who hadn’t even debuted—this was something even established artists would go to great lengths to secure.

Zhou Jinchen naturally understood An Xumo’s emotions, but he didn’t think it was a big deal. This resource was simply compensation for the misunderstanding he had about An Xumo before. But since An Xumo hadn’t known about that incident, there was no need to tell him now.

“A variety show is just a platform. It’s like a magnifying glass that can highlight your strengths and draw attention to you.” Zhou Jinchen said. “But what really allows an artist to establish themselves is their own professional ability. That’s what gets magnified.”

“The recording for <Sunny Weekend> will take a month, post-production about the same, and after approval, the broadcast will be at least half a year later. During this time, you must debut with actual works, or else this show won’t have its full effect.”

“Do you understand?”

Zhou Jinchen’s tone wasn’t particularly warm, but his words were already rare advice. Other than this nominal younger brother he felt some obligation toward, he wouldn’t have bothered to say such things to anyone else.

But the usually obedient younger brother’s expression didn’t seem quite right at the moment.

“U-understood.”

An Xumo’s face was pale, and a faint layer of cold sweat had formed on his forehead. His voice trembled slightly, and he even stuttered. Zhou Jinchen assumed he was just nervous, so he didn’t press further. In any case, he would be there during the recording—nothing major would go wrong.

“Are you full? I’ll send you back.”

The bill had already been paid in advance, and the person being asked gave a soft response, preparing to leave together. Zhou Jinchen was just about to step away from the table when he suddenly saw the person beside him sway.

He instinctively reached out to support him. The thinness he felt under his hand made him wonder where all the food this person had just eaten had gone. But before Zhou Jinchen could think further, the boy, upon being touched on the back, suddenly curled in on himself, letting out a muffled whimper from his throat.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Even Zhou Jinchen could tell something was off now. An Xumo’s slender neck was completely covered in cold sweat, his thin back tensed like a steel plate, and his entire body trembled uncontrollably, on the verge of convulsing.

An Xumo was already unable to speak. Zhou Jinchen made him sit back down and reached out to lift his shirt. He had just touched An Xumo’s back—so the problem had to be there. But even though he had mentally prepared himself, seeing it with his own eyes still made him frown deeply.

On that frail back was a glaringly deep bruise. The injury wasn’t bleeding, but a large, dark hematoma had pooled beneath the skin. Even more concerning, the bruised area had begun to swell, along with the surrounding skin. Against the stark contrast of his pale complexion, the injury looked all the more shocking.

The author has something to say:

An Xiao Mo just got full and then… The lesson here is, don’t eat recklessly when you’re injured (cough

The details of Mai-zi’s CP will be revealed in the next chapter 030.

The extra update progress is more than halfway done la. Looking forward to your comments (☆▽☆).

Although he noticed that the call was on speaker mode, the noise on the other end was too loud for his voice alone to attract their attention. Before smashing the plate, Zhou Jinchen also turned on his speakerphone. Only after ensuring that the loud crash was transmitted in full did he turn it off and take back his phone.

The shoving and jeering from the other end had already disappeared. Zhou Jinchen had guessed the identities of the people there from their voices, but to buy some time, he still asked, “Who are you?”

As he spoke into the phone, a waiter approached. Dressed in the restaurant’s uniform, the young man looked at them suspiciously, his gaze lingering on Zhou Jinchen’s face for a moment. After cleaning up the broken pieces on the floor, he asked in a standard professional tone, “Gentlemen, is there anything about our service that you are dissatisfied with?”

Chen Li had already arrived at the scene, and Zhou Jinchen had taken the phone she was using. The man showed no awareness of having caused a commotion in a public place, leaving the ever-dutiful manager with no choice but to brace himself and clean up the mess for him.

“No, no,” Xin Zimai stood up, took some cash from his wallet, and handed it to the waiter. “Thank you for helping us clean up. It was our personal issue, nothing to do with the restaurant. We’ll also cover the cost of the plate. Sorry for the trouble.”

The waiter didn’t want to disturb the other diners. Seeing Xin Zimai’s cooperation, he politely asked, “Understood, sir. Would you like us to continue serving your meal?”

“Yes, please.”

After the waiter left, the curious glances around them gradually dispersed. This restaurant was quite expensive, and there weren’t many customers at the moment. Since Zhou Jinchen had remained seated while only Xin Zimai stood up, the others couldn’t see his face. Thankfully, they had narrowly avoided a “Famous Actor Loses Temper and Smashes Restaurant” headline-making waves in both entertainment and social news. When Xin Zimai looked back at the culprit sitting across from him, he saw that the man had already switched back to his own phone and was talking.

“Did those people hurt you?” Zhou Jinchen asked. The person on the other end seemed to respond, and he didn’t press further. Instead, he got to the point. “I’ll treat you to dinner tonight. What do you want to eat?”

Just then, the polite waiter returned with a plate of freshly grilled chicken breast. Xin Zimai saw the man across from him raise an eyebrow. “Anything’s fine? How about chicken breast?”

Xin Zimai glanced gloomily at the plate, which was beautifully arranged with fresh garnishes. He thought to himself that the chicken breast actually looked quite appetizing.

However, Zhou Jinchen clearly received an answer that didn’t match his expectations. He lifted his gaze and gave Xin Zimai a cool glance before reporting the restaurant’s address over the phone. Only after that did he hang up.

Xin Zimai had a bad feeling. He quickly asked, “Jinchen, how do you plan to deal with those trainees?”

Zhou Jinchen glanced at him again and said, “Transfer their contracts to Tian Xiang.”

Tian Xiang was a subsidiary under Jin Dian’s umbrella. It was one of those trial-run companies that Jin Dian set up on a whim. Calling it a company was a stretch—it didn’t even have the resources of a proper studio. Their method of testing the waters was to sign people at low prices. If someone gained traction, they would be promoted to Jin Dian. If not, they would be left idle, bound by their contracts without receiving any resources. Since it didn’t cost much to maintain, Jin Dian didn’t lose anything either.

Jin Dian had four or five such subsidiaries, mainly to scoop up fresh talent and avoid missing out on potential stars, preventing the need to spend a fortune poaching from other companies. But in reality, overnight success stories with no background were rare in the industry. So while it sounded like an opportunity on paper, being signed to Tian Xiang was far from a lucky break.

Moreover, these seven trainees were being kicked out of Jin Dian’s official roster and dumped there. That was even worse than terminating their contracts outright. Having once received resources and been on the verge of debut, only to be thrown into a dead-end situation with no future prospects, the psychological gap would be unbearable.

Xin Zimai, however, wasn’t particularly concerned. Handling a few trainee contracts wasn’t a big deal to him, especially when the other party had practically delivered a reason for him to do so. He was about to call and settle the matter when he realized his phone hadn’t been returned. “Hey, Jinchen, my phone is still with you.”

But Zhou Jinchen didn’t hand it over immediately. Instead, he turned the screen toward Xin Zimai, showing the flashing call notification.

“Who’s calling?” Xin Zimai didn’t react at first. But when he saw the caller ID, his right hand, which had reached out for the phone, recoiled as if electrocuted. “H-He, why is he calling?”

Zhou Jinchen’s voice was deep and elegant, but to Xin Zimai, it sounded like an explosion. “Because you just sent him a message saying you wanted to have dinner with him.”

As Xin Zimai stared in shock, Zhou Jinchen repeated, “Here, have a chicken breast dinner.”

The pleasant ringtone sounded like an urgent death knell. Zhou Jinchen placed Xin Zimai’s phone on the table and said calmly, “An Xumo said he’s fine with anything for dinner—except a fitness meal.”

But Xin Zimai no longer had the capacity to care about his boss’s tone. His mind was filled with just one name.

—It was the one displayed on the screen.

“So, this meal is my treat for the two of you. Consider it a chance to meet.” Noticing a tall, slender figure outside the restaurant, Zhou Jinchen picked up his own phone and stood up, leaving Xin Zimai sitting there in a daze. “No need to thank me. Enjoy your meal.”

Before leaving, he added faintly, “By the way, I won’t be reimbursing this dinner.”

When Zhou Jinchen stepped out, An Xumo was looking up at the restaurant’s sign. His expression held a slight hesitation as if he wasn’t too keen on going inside. However, the moment he saw Zhou Jinchen, he quickly adjusted his demeanor. “Brother… Senior.”

The man glanced down at him over the top of his sunglasses, seemingly dissatisfied with the messy way he addressed him. Knowing he was at fault, An Xumo lowered his head and stood obediently.

He had remembered it earlier, but he had been too caught up in the shock of the invitation to dinner, so An Xumo didn’t react for a moment.

Fortunately, the other party didn’t press the issue and simply motioned for him to get in the car. Relieved, An Xumo quickly followed, sitting properly in the back seat.

As the city lights flickered on, the deep night sky and the dazzling lights outside the car window painted a beautiful, vivid scene. Inside the car, with only the two of them, the atmosphere was quiet but not awkward. Even the pain in An Xumo’s back felt significantly lighter.

“I’ll take care of those people for you.”

A deep, magnetic voice broke the silence. An Xumo looked up and saw the man in the front seat gripping the steering wheel, the joints of his wrist slightly protruding beneath his sleeve in a particularly striking arc.

“Including tonight’s dinner, consider it an apology for the wine incident at the birthday banquet.”

An Xumo was stunned for a moment before remembering what had happened last time. He had never thought of blaming Zhou Jinchen. “No, no, I should be the one thanking you…”

Zhou Jinchen didn’t respond. Keeping his eyes on the traffic ahead, he said indifferently, “You need to learn how to handle relationships within the industry on your own.”

“Yes.” An Xumo lowered his voice, feeling a bit regretful for troubling him. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

He didn’t want to burden Zhou Jinchen. Let alone complaining, even hearing Zhou Jinchen mention the incident made him feel like he had wasted his brother’s time. “Sorry for bothering you… this time.”

Zhou Jinchen frowned slightly and glanced at the rearview mirror. The boy was sitting properly in the back seat, hands neatly placed on his knees, like a child obediently receiving a lecture.

With a personality like this, how was he supposed to survive in the entertainment industry?

An Xumo didn’t notice Zhou Jinchen’s gaze. He was thinking about something else. After a moment of hesitation, he finally spoke. “Last time, Senior Han Ming… who came to the company with you, he was there too.”

Zhou Jinchen asked, “Did he bully you as well?”

An Xumo was startled and quickly shook his head. “No, no, Senior Han Ming was there with Sister Chen Li.”

He pursed his lips, a little nervous. “Later, when I left, Senior Han Ming walked out with me. He even asked me… about my relationship with Director Xin.”

He said Xin Zimai, but it was obvious that Han Ming was actually asking about his relationship with Zhou Jinchen. Zhou Jinchen glanced at the rearview mirror again. The boy’s nervousness was written all over his face. “I told him we had only met… once before and nothing else.”

An Xumo anxiously pinched the edge of his pants, worried that this might cause trouble for Zhou Jinchen. However, the man didn’t seem to care at all. “You don’t need to worry about this. Someone will handle it.”

Shortly after he finished speaking, they arrived at their destination. Following the valet’s instructions, Zhou Jinchen parked the car. When they stepped out, An Xumo looked up—and his eyes immediately lit up.

Under the guidance of the host at the entrance, the two of them were seated in a private room. A waiter handed over two dining cards. “All dishes in our restaurant are available in unlimited quantities, except for the golden king crab. The seafood and cooking stations are on the first floor, while the barbecue area is on the second floor. You may help yourselves.”

Zhou Jinchen handed both dining cards to An Xumo without hesitation.

“Get whatever you want to eat.”

The author has something to say:

The meal was finally served () cough—a certain someone really understands Xiao Mo’s heaty best~

The grand chicken breast feast is left to Mai-zi and his little buddy xd

An Xumo’s back hurt terribly. The spot where he had been struck burned with a sharp pain, and even the act of breathing tugged at the injury. The trainees were all around 20 years old; even without much skill, the force of a direct hit from a club was nothing to underestimate. An Xumo was thin, with little flesh on his bones, so the blow had landed directly on the bone. Just the sound of it at the time was enough to make one’s teeth ache.

But when Han Ming reached out to pull him up, An Xumo didn’t show much reaction. He withdrew his right hand from the man’s grasp, lowered his head, and softly said, “Thank you, senior. I’m fine.”

He walked a short distance away on his own, bent down slowly, and picked up the phone that had just been thrown down by the brown-haired trainee.

Chen Li had already ended the call. Her gaze shifted to the seven trainees standing in a row. The respect she had shown during the call had completely vanished, replaced by an expression clouded with uncertainty. Under her stare, the trainees grew even stiffer, each lowering their heads, wishing they could bury their faces into their chests, not daring to make a sound.

Chen Li was furious, but she had no intention of dealing with them directly. Zhou Jinchen’s status in Jin Dian was far more than just that of a popular star. The department Chen Li belonged to had little contact with the higher-ups, and she had never imagined that her first conversation with Zhou Jinchen would happen under these circumstances.

The person who had initially called Chen Li was Xin Zimai. When she answered and heard him bringing up issues about the company’s artist management, she was somewhat surprised, as such matters usually had little to do with someone in charge of trainees. But Xin Zimai insisted that she go to the trainees’ practice area, and since her office was just downstairs, she came to the dance studio. By now, it was already break time, and the studio should have been empty. Yet, as soon as she reached the floor, she was met with the sound of someone shouting angrily.

On the way there, she had run into Han Ming, whom she had previously mentored. Han Ming had just finished discussing a new choreography with the dance instructor and was about to leave after a quick greeting. But upon hearing the commotion, he didn’t feel right leaving Chen Li alone and decided to come along.

And now, two artists had gotten involved in the situation, making it impossible to handle quietly. Forcing down her frustration, Chen Li turned to An Xumo and asked, “Xiao An, right? I remember you. Are you hurt? Can you tell me what happened?”

An Xumo was looking down at his phone. The call on his screen was still ongoing. He didn’t know why the other party hadn’t hung up, but he was reluctant to end it himself—he hadn’t heard Zhou Jinchen’s voice yet.

Hearing Chen Li’s question, An Xumo looked up and glanced at the seven trainees, whose faces were ashen. None of them dared to meet his eyes.

“Thank you, Sister Chen,” An Xumo thought for a moment before saying, “I’m not sure. After training ended, they came over and pushed me into this room.”

Chen Li frowned. She was well aware of An Xumo’s situation—aside from his own abilities, he had no other backing. Yet today, Xin Zimai had personally stepped in to protect him, forcing Chen Li to reassess An Xumo’s position.

Regardless, this matter had to be handled in a way that satisfied the right people. After a few words of reassurance to An Xumo, she dialed a number. She then called out the names of the seven trainees one by one before saying to the person on the other end, “Pull out their contracts and send them to Director Xin.”

The moment she finished speaking, the trainees, who had been bracing themselves for a reprimand, felt their hearts sink.

This outcome was far worse than being scolded. Though Chen Li was an experienced manager, her authority was nowhere near that of Xin Zimai, who had long been involved with the company’s top-tier teams. Even with trainees, she didn’t have the power to dismiss them directly. But Xin Zimai was different—whatever action he chose to take against them would be well within his rights.

After handling that, Chen Li still paid no attention to the trainees. Instead, she turned to Han Ming and said, “By the way, you were looking for backup dancers for your new single last time, right? Xiao An happens to be one of the candidates. Things got a bit messy today, but at least you two got to know each other in advance. When the choreography is set, be sure to work well together.”

She said this to reassure An Xumo, but unintentionally, it was like driving another knife into the seven trainees’ chests. Their reason for attacking An Xumo in the first place was their resentment over him robbing the resources they wanted. Given that he had always been a loner with no background, they had acted so brazenly. But now, not only had An Xumo secured the opportunity, he had also gained such a powerful supporter.

The trainees were already drowning in despair, but Chen Li showed no intention of acknowledging them, leaving them without a chance to plead their case.

What shocked them even more was that Han Ming also spoke up. “Xiao An is very talented. I had already taken notice of him before. Don’t worry, Sister Chen—our collaboration will definitely go smoothly.”

The seven trainees found it increasingly unbelievable—just what was the origin of this An Xumo, that everyone seemed to be protecting him?

While resentment burned in their hearts, An Xumo remained unaware of their emotions. After briefly thanking Chen Li and Han Ming, he said apologetically, “Sorry, I still have a call to finish.”

Han Ming was the first to respond, “Go ahead. How about I walk you out?”

He exchanged a glance with Chen Li. Since she couldn’t gauge An Xumo’s background, she wasn’t in a position to insist on keeping him there, so she simply went along with it. “Go on, go on. You’ve had a scare today—get some rest. I’ll handle things here.”

Han Ming and An Xumo left the dance studio together. Outside, the sky had already darkened. An Xumo had initially wanted to decline Han Ming’s company, but the other insisted on leaving together, so he didn’t press the issue. He glanced at the still-lit phone screen, took a shallow breath, and softly called out, “…Hello?”

On the other end of the line, Zhou Jinchen, who had just listened in on the entire situation, wasn’t in a good mood either.

After leaving the task of reserving a restaurant to Xin Zimai, he had originally planned to call his long-estranged younger brother directly. But with An Xumo’s tight training schedule, by the time he dialed, An Xumo was already in class. Since the restaurant wasn’t far from Jin Dian, Zhou Jinchen decided to head there first and call An Xumo over when the time came.

However, upon arriving at the restaurant, his mood took a sharp turn for the worse. Xin Zimai, who hadn’t even had a chance to leave yet, was dragged into the restaurant along with him.

Holding up the printed meal order, Zhou Jinchen’s voice carried a distinct chill. “Oil-free stewed skinless chicken breast, avocado salad, non-fat yogurt. This is what you picked for dinner?”

Xin Zimai rubbed his nose. “Isn’t it healthy?”

Zhou Jinchen’s fingertips traced the row of numbers printed beneath the meal descriptions. The stark white paper bore visible gray smudges from his touch. His deliberately slowed voice carried an undeniable pressure. “Oh, it’s healthy, alright. So healthy that every single calorie is meticulously counted.”

Xin Zimai cleared his throat. “Well, actually, I found it strange too, but this is exactly what Xiao An’s manager instructed. I checked his contract—he didn’t sign a comprehensive agreement. The company is only providing him with idol-related resources. You know idols and actors have different demands. Maybe he’s just trying to maintain his figure?”

Zhou Jinchen gave him a blank look, then pulled out his phone and dialed An Xumo. He had intended to ask for An Xumo’s preference directly—if he wanted something else, they could simply change restaurants. But the moment the call connected, an odd crashing noise came from the other end.

The sounds that followed only grew more concerning. Zhou Jinchen frowned, pulling the phone slightly away to avoid being detected. In a lowered voice, he told Xin Zimai, “Call the person in charge of the trainees. Tell them something’s happening over there.”

Xin Zimai, who had been intently studying the calorie chart in an attempt to make himself invisible, was momentarily stunned. But seeing that Zhou Jinchen’s expression was dead serious, he quickly pulled out his own phone and dialed Chen Li.

Though somewhat confused, Chen Li agreed to check on the situation. However, getting there would take time. As the noises coming from the phone grew increasingly unsettling, Zhou Jinchen grabbed the plate of appetizers that had just been placed in front of him and, with a swift motion, smashed the pristine white dish onto the floor.

“Clang!”

The high-end restaurant had an elegant atmosphere and excellent privacy, but its layout was still semi-open. The sudden loud crash exploded through the refined music, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

Xin Zimai couldn’t help but press a hand to his forehead, doing his best to maintain a composed expression under countless gazes. While hurriedly urging Chen Li over the phone, he made a silent vow in his heart—

…In the future, never, ever come to this restaurant again.

The author has something to say:

Didn’t get to the meal this time—sorry for the false lead (bows). But they’ll definitely eat in the next chapter…

Also, I’d love to ask everyone to bookmark this story and follow me as an author! You can do that by clicking into my profile. Thank you all~ -3-

I’m working hard on improving my writing style and hope you all enjoy reading~ Looking forward to today’s comments (☆▽☆). The progress bar for the update is already halfway there XD

The afternoon training was still a dance class. An Xumo had already switched to a new dance instructor and was currently practicing a solo dance routine. He had excellent perception, outstanding coordination, and a strong sense of rhythm. Combined with his diligent and hardworking attitude, it took only a few days for his new instructor to give him the same evaluation as his previous coach, Brother Li.

An Xumo had been signed with Jin Dian for less than a year. Among the many trainees, he was no longer considered the youngest. However, in terms of progress and results, he was undoubtedly one of the most outstanding among the thousands of trainees. The other top performers at his level had already been training for three to four years and were internally designated as leaders of upcoming groups. An Xumo was the only exception—his rapid improvement outpaced the team’s integration process, which was why Tang Tang had singled him out.

Both dance and vocal training required long hours of relentless practice. The effortless performances seen on stage were backed by countless days and nights of sweat and hard work. For an artist, perseverance was an essential skill. Since Jin Dian began expanding its market into the younger generation, thousands of people have signed up as trainees each week. Appearance was merely the first step of the selection process—the real, ruthless elimination process happened silently in the daily training sessions.

Trainees at Jin Dian typically went through six stages of training, but after just the first stage, fewer than 10% chose to continue.

Those who made it to the end had endured grueling training that outsiders could hardly imagine. Yet, as in many fields, hard work only raised the lower limit. The true upper limit was determined by something beyond human control—talent.

An Xumo’s diligence was undeniable, but the praise he received was largely due to his natural talent.

An Xumo was like a pearl, still encased in its shell, but those with discerning eyes had already caught a glimpse of its brilliance.

The training areas at Jin Dian were clustered together, with all the dance studios on the same floor. After thanking his instructor, An Xumo took a quick shower and left the dance studio while thinking about what to eat for dinner. The hallway was filled with other trainees who had just finished their classes. As he walked alone, his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. Reaching for it, he was surprised to find that it was his personal phone.

The name on the screen made him freeze for a moment. He stopped in his tracks, rubbed his palm twice against his pants, and only then did An Xumo carefully swiped to answer the call.

“Hello…?”

Before the voice on the other end could come through, An Xumo was suddenly hit by a force from behind. He staggered, barely managing to grab onto a nearby door to keep from falling. Startled, he turned around, but before he could react, a group of people shoved him straight into the room next to him.

“Wu…!”

With a loud “thud,” An Xumo was forcefully thrown onto the wooden floor. A dull groan escaped his lips from the pain, and his phone slipped from his grasp, skidding half a meter away.

“Yo, our big star took a fall. So careless when walking ah.”

A voice dripping with sarcasm rang out. Supporting himself with his arms, An Xumo looked up. “…Lu Yingtu?”

There were a total of seven people who followed him into the room, with the last one even reaching back to shut the door to the unused dance studio. An Xumo glanced around and immediately recognized them—they were the trainees who had been waiting for Han Ming in the hall that day. Their expressions were anything but restrained; their stance made it clear they had no good intentions.

Lu Yingtu let out a laugh. “How unexpected ah, our big star still remembers my name. I’m truly flattered.”

An Xumo frowned slightly, not quite understanding. “Do you need something?”

Lu Yingtu scoffed and sneered, “Oh, drop the act. Playing like a white lotus really suits you. Why bother practicing dance at all ah? Why don’t you just go straight into acting?”

Someone behind him chimed in, “Exactly. Taking advantage once was bad enough, but twice? And you always put on that helpless look. You use this trick in front of Han Ming too, don’t you?”

A brown-haired boy standing nearby clapped his hands. “Enough talking nonsense. Let’s just beat him up first and vent some steam.”

At his words, the group immediately pulled out several batons from under the mats in the corner. This was obviously premeditated—both the location and the tools were already prepared.

An Xumo tried to get up from the floor, but Lu Yingtu kicked him hard in the chest. His body scr4p3d against the wooden floor, the harsh friction producing an ear-piercing sound that made the scene even more unnerving.

But to the seven people in the room, that sound was music to their ears. Each of them now held a baton in hand, surrounding An Xumo in the center.

Lu Yingtu had already raised his baton, and just as the thick wooden stick was about to come down, a loud crash suddenly echoed through the room.

“Who?!”

Startled, the group frantically looked around, but the dance studio was empty except for them. After scanning the room nervously, someone finally shouted, “Over there!”

The fallen phone nearby was still glowing, its screen displaying an ongoing call. When it had been thrown earlier, it had accidentally hit the speaker button, allowing all the sounds in the room to be transmitted clearly. A deep male voice now rang out, amplified for everyone to hear.

“Who are you?”

Due to the speaker distortion, the voice sounded somewhat altered. The brown-haired boy closest to the phone bent down to pick it up, and on the screen, two glaringly obvious words were displayed: “Big Brother.”

An Xumo’s situation was well-known among the trainees. During their intensive training camps in the outskirts, where they were completely cut off from the outside world, everyone else had family or friends eagerly picking them up during the rare holiday breaks. Only An Xumo—every single time—had no one come for him.

He wouldn’t even go home, choosing instead to stay alone at the training camp, spending the entire holiday by himself.

Given that, no one believed An Xumo’s family cared about him. As for this so-called big brother who had suddenly appeared, he wasn’t any threat to them. A trainee’s family wouldn’t have much influence—if this person were really powerful, An Xumo wouldn’t still be here struggling as a trainee.

Lu Yingtu chuckled, deliberately softening his tone as he spoke into the phone in the brown-haired boy’s hand. “Ah, big bro, we’re actually Xiao An’s good friends. Just having a little heart-to-heart, you know? No need to worry ah.”

The others burst into laughter, intentionally playing along. “That’s right.”

“Just bonding a little~”

Their taunts had barely ended when An Xumo—who had been silent all this time—suddenly lunged forward from his kneeling position. With all his strength, he threw a vicious punch straight into Lu Yingtu’s face!

“Ah!!”

Caught off guard, Lu Yingtu let out a pained cry. Clutching his now-swollen cheek, he glared at An Xumo with rage, gritting his teeth as he yelled, “You actually dared to hit me?! Laozi will fvcking kill you! Go, beat him up for me!”

The others, momentarily stunned, snapped back to their senses at Lu Yingtu’s shout and quickly raised their batons again. An Xumo was already on the thin side, exhausted from a full day of training, and hadn’t eaten enough. He lacked both strength and fighting skills. His earlier punch had only landed because he had taken them by surprise. Now, surrounded by six or seven peers, he had no chance to fight back.

A baton whistled through the air before striking hard against his thin back. An Xumo grunted in pain, biting down to suppress the cry threatening to escape. But before he could, a bang suddenly echoed through the room.

This time, it wasn’t from the phone’s speaker. The dance studio door had been forcefully pushed open, and the person standing at the entrance, taking in the scene inside, shouted sharply, “What are you all doing?!”

The seven trainees holding batons panicked as soon as they saw who it was. “Sis-Sister Chen…”

Standing in the doorway was Chen Li, the manager responsible for the eleven trainees, including them. Unlike Tang Tang, Chen Li was notorious for her fiery temper. Since she managed trainees who hadn’t debuted yet, those under her were deeply afraid of her. Even someone like Lu Yingtu, who was used to sweet-talking and arrogance, wouldn’t dare raise his voice in front of her.

Dressed in a sleek professional skirt, Chen Li strode into the dance studio, her high heels clicking against the floor with each step. The sound made the group’s faces turn even paler. But what truly terrified them was that Chen Li wasn’t alone. Behind her, another person stepped inside. A tall figure, instantly recognizable—

Surprisingly, it was Han Ming, the very person they had been talking about just moments ago!

“Drop those batons, now!” Chen Li snapped harshly. Only when the seven of them timidly stepped back into a line did she release her grip on the phone in her right hand. Then, in a sudden shift to a much gentler tone, she spoke into it, “Hello, Director Xin, I’m here now. Ai, yes, yes. Don’t worry, I will handle this matter seriously.”

The trainees were still frozen in shock at seeing Han Ming. But before they could even recover, Chen Li’s uncharacteristically respectful tone sent another wave of panic through them.

Director Xin. Xin. How many directors at Jin Dian had the surname Xin?

They were still clinging to a last shred of hope when Chen Li spoke again, “Director Xin, I’ll have to trouble you to put in a good word with Brother Zhou about this matter. I will definitely…”

Before she could finish, the person on the other end seemed to have changed. Chen Li’s tone immediately became even more respectful. “Brother Zhou. Ai, you’re with Director Xin? Yes, it’s me, Chen Li. Don’t worry, I will handle this properly…”

Apart from Chen Li’s voice, the entire room had fallen into dead silence. The seven trainees turned pale, staring in disbelief at Chen Li, who was nodding repeatedly as she spoke. Han Ming had also stepped inside by now. He walked over to An Xumo, who was still kneeling on the floor and reached out to pull him up.

“Are you alright?”

The author has something to say:

Next chapter: Mealtime! Mwah~

Han Ming was just passing by, and Chen Li was called in as reinforcements. But the details will have to wait for the next part—anyway, this time, our clever and courageous Mr. Zhou successfully carried out the rescue mission~

And in the next chapter, An Xiao Mo can finally enjoy a big feast~

Happy New Year, everyone! Looking forward to your comments on the new chapter~ (≧▽≦)/~

Han Ming was still speculating repeatedly when Xin Zimai, who had already left Green City TV, dialed Zhou Jinchen’s number.

Zhou Jinchen was shooting a magazine cover today. When his phone rang, it happened to be break time. As the makeup artist touched up his look, he connected to his Bluetooth earpiece.

“The contract has been settled.” Xin Zimai’s voice came through the small white earpiece. “Just as you said, I used Jin Dian’s authority to sign the contract for him directly.”

Zhou Jinchen gave a faint response and closed his eyes. The soft bristles of the brush swept lightly over his eyelids, further accentuating his already striking and well-defined features. His looks weren’t the rugged type—his nose was straight and refined, his thin lips enticing people. Even without any makeup, his face carried an exceptional delicacy, a beauty that blurred the lines of gender.

As the brush moved downward, his slightly closed eyes slowly opened. The piercing brightness in his gaze gradually settled within his beautiful eyes, stripping away any trace of femininity from his androgynous beauty. His outstanding appearance undoubtedly provided him with an advantage, but the reason he had remained explosively popular for five years wasn’t just because of his looks.

Unlike An Xumo’s youthful and pure charm, Zhou Jinchen’s presence carried an intoxicating allure. His appearance alone was enough to capture everyone’s attention, but it was his aura that truly made people fall into him. This was why his short clips frequently went viral on Weibo, with each screenshot garnering tens of thousands of shares.

In still photography, Zhou Jinchen’s ability to express himself was beyond question. He was every photographer’s dream model, capable of embodying any mood or style flawlessly. But in an era where heavy Photoshop was the norm and retouchers’ work often outshone the models themselves, only those who could exude charm in motion could truly withstand the test of time.

It was no exaggeration to say that Zhou Jinchen was born for the camera.

More than a dozen magazines had given him this recognition, some of which hosted prestigious annual fashion galas. The raw sensuality that radiated from his very being was like a domineering, rich sandalwood fragrance—intoxicating and inescapable once ignited.

The person touching up Zhou Jinchen’s makeup wasn’t his usual stylist but a professional makeup artist from the magazine. She was still young but had been in the industry for quite some time. Yet, facing such a face up close, it was impossible to remain unaffected. In the end, she couldn’t help it—her face flushed slightly.

As the makeup artist hurriedly tried to hide her flushed cheeks, Zhou Jinchen remained unaware of the subtle changes around him. Xin Zimai’s voice continued in his earpiece, “The contract is settled, but have you told him about it yet?”

Zhou Jinchen absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the armrest. “I wouldn’t say anything before it was confirmed.”

“You…” Xin Zimai was momentarily speechless. Going through all the trouble to squeeze someone into such a high-rated variety show, yet not even informing the person benefiting from it—Xin Zimai found it truly unbelievable.

“Mr. Zhou, Brother Zhou, are you really planning to play the role of a kind and caring older brother now?”

“This is what I owe him.”

Zhou Jinchen lowered his gaze. The bright overhead lights poured down, casting deep shadows in his eyes.

“I said that I would personally apologize to him.”

At the mention of this, it inevitably brought up the serious illness Zhou Jinchen had suffered ten years ago. Xin Zimai sighed and his tone grew heavier. “We’re still looking into that matter. Jinchen, don’t worry too much.”

“Mm.” Zhou Jinchen responded softly without further comment.

Xin Zimai asked, “So, are you going to tell him about the recording yourself? The production team needs his information, and I also need to talk to Tang Tang to arrange Xiao An’s schedule.”

Zhou Jinchen tapped the armrest twice more before speaking. “Do I have any other engagements after the cover shoot?”

Xin Zimai thought for a moment. “There’s an exclusive interview, about two hours. They also want to invite you to dinner after the interview.”

Zhou Jinchen said, “I’ll try to speed up the shoot, move the interview earlier, but skip the dinner. Book another restaurant for me instead.”

After agreeing, Xin Zimai suddenly realized and asked, “Are you inviting Xiao An to dinner?”

“Mm.”

“Which restaurant should I book?”

“…”

Zhou Jinchen suddenly fell silent, realizing that he couldn’t remember what his long-unseen younger brother liked to eat.

Although he didn’t need to rely on excessive social maneuvering to secure resources, his position still required him to attend various necessary engagements. In the entire S City, there was hardly a high-end restaurant he hadn’t visited—whether it was Chinese, Western, Japanese, Korean, or Thai cuisine, he had the perfect venue for any occasion.

But now, for the first time, he felt a little clueless.

Xin Zimai, always quick to catch on, immediately understood the reason for the pause. Naturally, he offered, “I’ll ask Tang Tang and see what Xiao An prefers. Once I’ve booked it, I’ll send you the details. Oh, do you need me to inform him about the dinner?”

“No need.” Zhou Jinchen said slowly, “I’ll call him myself.”

After hanging up, the photoshoot resumed. Zhou Jinchen rose from the lounge area and stepped into the brightly lit spotlight.

* * *

While the person inviting was actively making arrangements, the one being invited remained completely unaware.

An Xumo had just finished half a day of vocal training and was sucking on a cool, spicy mint lozenge to soothe his throat. Tang Tang took him back to her office and laid out several development plans on the desk.

“The company plans to offer you opportunities in both solo and group activities to test the water. Group projects are more flexible to execute but might take longer. Solo work carries more risk, but we’ll need to secure as many resources as possible.”

Since they had already discussed this before, Tang Tang didn’t repeat herself. “Since the company has provided solo resources, you should focus on developing your solo career. Although this path is riskier, the potential is higher, and it will save time in the early stages.”

“What if it’s a debut as a solo artist? Right now, the company has three main training plans for newcomers. I’ll explain them one by one.” Tang Tang pressed her thumb against her pinky, holding up three fingers. “The first is participating in talent shows. Last year, new regulations were introduced restricting certain types of talent showcases, cutting down on those dramatic, tear-jerking backstory programs by the higher-ups. As a result, performance-based talent competitions are seeing a resurgence. In the second half of this year, Jin Dian negotiated collaborations with four talent shows. If you debut solo, this is a relatively controllable starting point. Given your qualifications and the company’s resources, making it to the finals wouldn’t be an issue.”

An Xumo bit down on his mint candy, lightly grinding it between his teeth without responding.

Tang Tang placed another proposal on the table and continued, “The second option is shooting music videos. Since your focus is on singing and dancing rather than just vocals, MV exposure is crucial. The company will first arrange for you to appear in other artists’ MVs. Once you gain some experience, if the results are promising, I can try negotiating for you to sing the opening or ending theme of one of the company’s new dramas…”

Before she could finish, the phone on the table lit up. She glanced at the screen mid-sentence and suddenly exclaimed, “Qu…?!”

Tang Tang’s trailing voice hung in the air, and An Xumo curiously looked over. He saw Tang Tang staring at the screen in shock, as if she had just received a bank notification that a million yuan had been deposited into her account.

“Xin, Xin Xin…”

An Xumo was puzzled. “What’s wrong? Just answer the call first.”

Only then did Tang Tang snap out of it. She hurriedly grabbed her phone, drawing an exaggerated cross over her chest with her other hand.

“Xiao Mo, Xiao Mo, go eat first. I’ll talk to you later ah.”

Since Tang Tang was taking a call, An Xumo had no choice but to grab his lunch from the break room. As he shut the door, he could still hear Tang Tang’s barely concealed excitement. “Hello, this is Tang—Tang Tang speaking.”

…

An Xumo wondered if today’s lunch would have a little more sugar.

But reality was disappointing as always. Lunch was just another bland, repetitive meal. By the time he struggled through his unappetizing fitness meal, Tang Tang stormed into the break room like a gust of wind, hastily dragging him back to her office.

As soon as she entered the office, Tang Tang grabbed the three development plans and, right in front of An Xumo, stuffed all of them into the shredder.

“…” An Xumo was a bit confused.

“Alright, Xiao Mo, your job now is to completely forget everything I just told you.” After disposing of the documents, Tang Tang clapped her hands happily. “We have a brand-new starting point!”

An Xumo glanced at her. Though he didn’t quite understand the excitement, he still cooperated and asked, “What happened?”

Tang Tang was about to explain but suddenly stopped herself. “Uh, well, someone will explain it to you later. Just take a break for now; you still have training this afternoon. Once the new plan is finalized, I’ll go over everything with you.”

An Xumo didn’t pay much mind to her intense reaction. He simply nodded. “Okay.”

As he left, Tang Tang was still so delighted that she couldn’t help but hum a tune. Just before he stepped out, she called after him. “Oh, right, Xiao Mo, someone from the company asked about your food preferences today—they said it was for the official website’s profile. Since you weren’t around, I just told them you like pan-seared salmon with no oil and chicken breast. Just keep that in mind for now ah.”

An Xumo’s hand paused on the doorknob.

Tang Tang didn’t notice his reaction. “Anyway, it’s not set in stone yet. Later on, the company will customize a whole list of preferences for you. You can change it when the time comes.”

”…Okay.”

An Xumo closed the door and stopped outside for a moment.

He didn’t like chicken breast. He didn’t like fitness meals either.

Chicken breast was going to the top of his list of least favorite foods.

The author has something to say:

Everything in this story is purely fictional. Please don’t overanalyze. Thank you~

Zhou Jinchen: Let’s have dinner together tonight.

An Xumo: (☆▽☆)

Chicken Breast: Eat me! Eat me!

An Xumo: Σ( ° △ °|||)︴?!!

Besides the paper bag containing clothes, Xin Zimai also gave An Xumo a clean towel. After briefly wiping the damp marks on his chest, An Xumo put on the brand-new shirt and pants. These clothes seemed to be casual wear, much more comfortable than the formal shirt he had worn earlier. However, due to the size difference, they were noticeably loose on him.

When asked for his address, An Xumo was in the middle of folding the two damp garments. No one had ever taught him how to fold clothes, so even though he had been living independently for a while, his movements were still somewhat clumsy. After hearing Xin Zimai’s question, An Xumo paused, looking up at him in disbelief. “But… I live on the top floor ah?”

Xin Zimai turned the wheel and started driving the RV. “You live in the last row of the company dormitories?”

An Xumo nodded blankly, “Yes.”

Xin Zimai asked, “Then have you seen the building across the street?”

An Xumo thought for a moment, “That high-rise villa?”

He lived in an eight-person dormitory, the worst accommodation available, which was why he had been placed in a remote corner, far from the building in front. However, that area was not the only residential complex. Across the fence and the roadway was another housing district.

Xin Zimai coughed lightly, “How do you know that the villa is across the street?”

An Xumo replied, “You can see them from the hallway windows. The rooftops there are open-air gardens.”

Xin Zimai nodded. “That’s right. But do you know that your own building also has an open-air garden on the rooftop?”

An Xumo was taken aback. “…Yi?”

The RV exited through a side gate. Since the necessary registration had been completed in advance, there was no obstruction as they left. While driving, Xin Zimai explained, “Your building is the farthest one if you enter from the main entrance of the employee district. But if you go through the central avenue of the residential area, it’s actually in the best location. That area has a total of 20-30 buildings, and the top floors are all high-rise villas. These were specially reserved by Jin Dian as benefits for executives and artists.”

The artists he referred to were, of course, not just ordinary signed contracted stars. Jin Dian has produced 3-4 top-tier superstars that are labeled as “First Brother,” “First Sister.” Even in terms of seniority alone, there were plenty of notable names.

Xin Zimai continued, “But many seniors prefer more private spaces. Mr. Zhou only acquired that property because of work needs. He’s currently staying there. If you want to go over, you can ask him first.”

The impact of this offer was a bit too strong—almost like suddenly winning a 30-day buffet pass. An Xumo didn’t react immediately and dazedly asked, “But… our floor doesn’t seem to have any way to go further up?”

Xin Zimai chuckled. “The entrance to the high-rise villas isn’t the same as the units below. You also need to go through identity verification before entering. So, you’d have to ask Mr. Zhou first. He can take you there.”

An Xumo was little afraid to accept this buffet pass, afraid that indulging in it would make the boss dislike him. “Thank you, but I might trouble Mr. Zhou… I’ll wait for another opportunity to talk about it.”

Xin Zimai didn’t let his polite refusal end the conversation. “If we’re talking about trouble, tonight has already caused you quite a bit of inconvenience.”

Through the rearview mirror, he looked at An Xumo. “You’re signed with Jin Dian, right? Who are you currently working with?”

An Xumo mentioned Tang Tang’s name. Xin Zimai nodded but didn’t say more. “If you’re tired, get some rest. You can recline the seat by pressing the button on the side. It’s still over two hours to Jin Dian—I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

An Xumo softly thanked him and placed his folded clothes on the back seat. He knew it wasn’t the most polite thing to fall asleep while alone with someone, but the intense training of the past few days, combined with today’s series of shocks, had left him physically and mentally exhausted.

After the seat was reclined, Xin Zimai turned on the car’s audio system. The song playing was one of Zhou Jinchen’s previously released singles. The familiar, deep, and soothing male voice carried a calming charm. Completely drained, An Xumo finally couldn’t hold on any longer and drifted off into sleep.

The RV had ample space, a comfortable temperature, and thanks to its smooth performance, there were no major jolts along the way. An Xumo slept deeply, only beginning to regain consciousness when faint noises reached his ears.

A hazy grayness surrounded him. The lights inside the vehicle had been dimmed to a night mode. An Xumo drowsily opened his eyes, only to see an unexpected silhouette in front of him.

He stared in a daze for a moment. Even though his eyes were open, he felt like he was still dreaming.

The figure quickly moved away, and the lights inside the vehicle brightened. The sudden brightness stung An Xumo’s eyes, making him instinctively shut them. As he heard the sound of the car door opening beside him, he raised a hand to shield his eyes and sat up, only to see Xin Zimai poking his head in. “Awake?”

An Xumo figured he must have been mistaken earlier and nodded at Xin Zimai.

Xin Zimai said, “We’re here, come down.”

An Xumo followed him out of the car. Though it was already summer, the night breeze was still cool. The temperature outside was a bit low, and wearing only a short-sleeved shirt, he couldn’t help but shiver. The lingering drowsiness in his mind vanished completely.

He was wearing Zhou Jinchen’s clothes, but since their body sizes were different, the tailored outfit looked rather loose on him. The movement of stepping out of the car was quite large, and the loosely hanging pants around his waist felt cumbersome. Worried that he might step on the fabric, An Xumo moved with extra caution.

Just as he set foot on the ground, before he even had the chance to adjust his borrowed pants, a deep voice beside him asked, “Are you injured?”

An Xumo froze and looked up blankly. Zhou Jinchen stood about a meter away from the car door, frowning as he looked at him.

“Huh?” Xin Zimai, who had been closing the car door, looked up at the question. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Only then did An Xumo find his voice. He quickly shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m not injured.”

Xin Zimai almost laughed at the three consecutive denials.

He cleared his throat and glanced at Zhou Jinchen, only to see that the man’s expression hadn’t relaxed much. Zhou Jinchen’s gaze swept over An Xumo’s legs before he asked again, “Did I step on you during the collision?”

It took An Xumo a moment to realize that the other party was referring to the accident at the birthday banquet. He quickly replied, “No, you didn’t step on me. I’m really fine.”

He wanted to explain, but the real reason was somewhat embarrassing to talk about. Speaking in front of the two of them, his voice involuntarily lowered. “It’s because of the pants… The waistband is a bit thick, and I was afraid they’d fall down…”

Xin Zimai really couldn’t hold it in this time—he leaned against the car door and burst out laughing. An Xumo looked at him in confusion, and Xin Zimai quickly waved a hand. “Sorry, sorry.”

But even as he apologized, his laughter didn’t stop.

Zhou Jinchen shot him a sideways glance and reached for a paper bag from the car roof. He handed it to An Xumo, who took it and realized it contained the clothes they had bought together that afternoon.

Behind him, Xin Zimai was still grinning. “Jinchen, do you need to increase your workout plan tomorrow?”

After all, he had just been personally criticized by his younger brother for having a thick waist.

Zhou Jinchen glanced at him indifferently. “Sure. The extra training costs will be deducted from your salary.”

Xin Zimai’s smile froze instantly.

Ignoring him, Zhou Jinchen gestured to An Xumo. “Turn right and walk straight for two hundred meters. The main entrance of the complex is there. Go back first—I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

An Xumo quickly nodded and carefully bid farewell to both of them seriously. His slightly oversized clothes hung loosely on his frame, the wide neckline revealing the smooth lines of his shoulders and collarbone. His fair skin, bathed in the moonlight and street lamps, was hard to look away from.

He had completely forgotten Xin Zimai’s earlier suggestion about going to the rooftop villa. Hugging the paper bag obediently, he turned and left.

An Xumo often felt hungry, but when it came to Zhou Jinchen, his appetite seemed to shrink. Just catching a few glimpses of him in person was enough to fill both his heart and stomach to the brim.

* * *

Two days later, backstage at Green City TV, Han Ming had just finished recording an episode and was about to leave when he ran into a surprising figure in the elevator.

“Brother Mai!” Han Ming greeted him with a smile and glanced toward the entrance. “What a coincidence! Did Brother Jinchen come with you?”

Xin Zimai smiled, “I came alone.”

Han Ming didn’t show any sign of disappointment. “Brother Mai, are you here for the next episode of <Sunny Weekend>?”

Xin Zimai nodded. “Next episode’s guest is Jinchen.”

Han Ming’s eyes lit up. Even though he had long known that Zhou Jinchen would be participating in the <Weekend with a Sunny Day>¹This is the full title of the program. The author just switch between this and the shortcut one which is Sunny Weekend. hearing the confirmation still brought him undiminished excitement. “Then we’ll get to record the next episode together. I’ve always looked forward to working with Brother Jinchen.”

After exchanging a few more polite words with him, Xin Zimai left as soon as the elevator doors opened. Meanwhile, Han Ming, who had been stopped by his manager, was still lost in his excitement, not fully registering what was being said to him.

It wasn’t until his manager repeated it that Han Ming snapped out of it. “What? A last-minute guest addition?”

His manager nodded. “Yes, aside from Zhou Jinchen, another guest will be joining the next episode.”

Han Ming frowned, “Who is it?”

“The director only mentioned adding someone but hasn’t confirmed the details yet,” the manager explained. “It’s probably similar to that unexpected guest from season one—someone arranged by a sponsor.”

Han Ming was puzzled. “Which sponsor has that much influence… to get someone placed in the same episode as Brother Jinchen?”

His manager wasn’t sure either and reassured him, “The temporary guest’s identity hasn’t been confirmed yet. But since you’re a regular cast member, just focus on performing well. The newcomer won’t be familiar with the team, so the final result will definitely be affected.”

“Besides, isn’t Zhou Jinchen known for disliking being constrained? He probably won’t go out of his way to accommodate this last-minute addition,” the manager added. “Next episode’s key focus will definitely be on Zhou Jinchen. Just interact with him more, and as for that temporary guest… whether they even get screen time is another story.”

The author has something to say:

Sorry for being late!!

An Xiao Mo’s triple denial: It wasn’t me, I didn’t, I’m not hurt.

Zhou Jinchen: Mm.

An Xiao Mo (softly): I didn’t say your waist was thick either.

Zhou Jinchen: …

Zhou Jinchen: Let me measure just how thin your waist is.

Ten years ago, Zhou Jinchen was only 12 years old when he fell gravely ill and hovered on the brink of death. If not for the intervention of the long-retired Mr. Old Yu, he would never have survived his first zodiac year. Even after recovering, Zhou Jinchen had to spend half of each year deep in the mountains under Mr. Old Yu’s care to rid his body of lingering ailments. It wasn’t until five years later that he fully recovered.

Having barely snatched his life back from the jaws of death, the Zhou Family no longer imposed any expectations on Zhou Jinchen, only hoping he could live safely and peacefully. So when, at 17, he announced his decision to enter the entertainment industry as an artist, the Zhou Family raised no objections. Instead, they paved the way for him in advance, investing an astronomical sum into Jin Dian—enough to leave people astonished.

At the time, the entertainment industry was still dominated by grassroots success stories, with artists often relying on tragic narratives to gain public sympathy. Wealthy elites and business tycoons looked down on celebrities, and it was common for them to be openly priced at social gatherings. When Zhou Jinchen debuted, the Zhou Family faced immense public scrutiny. It wasn’t until the tides shifted and the entertainment industry became so lucrative that everyone wanted a share that these rumors gradually turned into envy.

By then, leveraging Zhou Jinchen’s status, the Zhou Family had already reaped great rewards from the murky waters of the industry.

Everything stemmed from that grave illness, yet the latest intelligence revealed that the person responsible for nearly taking Zhou Jinchen’s life was someone else entirely.

The young man discreetly surveyed their surroundings. After confirming that no one was paying attention to them, he lowered his voice and said, “So far, we’ve only confirmed He Wenbin’s identity. The full truth behind that accident still requires deeper investigation. But Jinchen, you should understand—whoever targeted you couldn’t have completely bypassed the Zhou Family. Be cautious about the equity distribution at today’s birthday banquet.”

Zhou Jinchen glanced across the room at An Xumo, who was quietly holding his food in a corner, and felt a complex mix of emotions. Not wanting to draw attention to An Xumo, he quickly retracted his gaze. “So the family called him back today because of the equity?”

The young man nodded. “He has no direct ties to Zhou Corporation’s shares, but before your uncle passed away, he left behind Yangfan Group. Once An Xumo comes of age, those shares will rightfully be his. Yangfan’s shares don’t mean much to Zhou Corporation, but the Zhou Family refuses to swallow this grievance—they’ll definitely try to take those shares from him.”

Equity transfers were no trivial matter. Forcing someone to sign a voluntary waiver in a highly public setting, with all eyes watching—Zhou Family never hesitated to employ such tactics. Despite being favored all his life, Zhou Jinchen had never doubted this fact.

The once-clear web of grudges and debts had suddenly become a tangled mess, and it was highly likely that An Xumo had been caught up in it without cause. The thought that he was the one who had personally brought An Xumo here made Zhou Jinchen even more uneasy. He stood up, intending to head in An Xumo’s direction, but the young man beside him immediately grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?”

Zhou Jinchen frowned. “To get him out of here.”

The young man shook his head slightly and said in a low voice, “There are bodyguards. He won’t be able to leave.”

Zhou Jinchen’s gaze darkened as he scanned the room. After withdrawing his gaze, he turned to the young man and said, “Zimai, do me a favor.”

An Xumo briefly met their eyes but felt confused about what was happening. Zhou Jinchen and the young man quickly looked away and resumed their conversation. Thinking the eye contact was just a coincidence, An Xumo didn’t dwell on it. He was satisfied as long as he could catch a few glimpses of Zhou Jinchen—he had no other expectations.

His decision to enter the entertainment industry was largely because of this. Although Zhou Jinchen had ample resources and never lacked screen time, his personal schedule was extremely low-profile. He rarely appeared in public outside of work and had never even opened a Weibo account. Wanting to see more of the older brother he once had, An Xumo had mustered up the courage to step into this world.

But he didn’t have to wait long before a waiter approached him and said that the Third Young Master had summoned him. Among his generation, the third in line was Zhou Jinchen. An Xumo was surprised but still followed the waiter.

The young man beside Zhou Jinchen was still there, engaged in a conversation with another guest. As An Xumo got closer, he found the man increasingly familiar. However, having never been involved in the Zhou Family’s social circles, he knew very few people and couldn’t recall where he might have seen this person before.

When he reached Zhou Jinchen’s side, the latter didn’t acknowledge him. It wasn’t until the young man gave him a reminder that Zhou Jinchen finally turned his gaze, as if he had only just noticed An Xumo.

An Xumo was slightly taken aback—he could clearly see displeasure on Zhou Jinchen’s face. He was usually insensitive to other people’s emotions; otherwise, he wouldn’t have stood in the banquet hall completely unaware of being scrutinized like a spectacle. But when it came to Zhou Jinchen, he was keenly perceptive. The man obviously didn’t want to acknowledge him. He barely spared An Xumo a glance before turning away again to continue his conversation with the others.

This Zhou Jinchen was completely different from the one An Xumo had interacted with that afternoon. And since it was Zhou Jinchen who had called him over in the first place, An Xumo couldn’t understand what had changed, leaving him feeling at a loss.

Standing there all alone, he looked rather pitiful. In the end, it seemed the young man couldn’t bear to watch any longer and took the initiative to speak. “Mr. An, right? Would you like to have a drink with Jinchen?”

A nearby waiter promptly brought over wine glasses and a bottle. An Xumo had never drunk alcohol before and had no intention of doing so now. But in this tense and awkward situation, the young man had naturally helped him out of his predicament. With no other way to respond, An Xumo could only follow along and, feeling both cautious and uneasy, nodded slightly.

“…Okay.”

Zhou Jinchen still showed no reaction. His wine glass was already empty, and as the waiter busied himself refilling it, the young man picked up another glass from the tray and handed it to An Xumo.

Just as An Xumo reached out to take it, Zhou Jinchen suddenly stepped back, bumping into him. The unexpected impact caused An Xumo’s arm to shake, and he failed to grasp the glass properly, spilling the entire drink down the front of his own chest.

“Tsk…” The waiter had just finished pouring the wine and stepped aside, so no one else noticed Zhou Jinchen’s movement. Showing no awareness that he had bumped into An Xumo, he instead spoke impatiently, “You can’t even hold a glass properly?”

Spilling wine at such an event wasn’t a trivial matter. With the young man repeatedly apologizing and Zhou Jinchen’s tone carrying obvious displeasure, many people around them took notice. In recent years, Zhou Jinchen hadn’t attended many of Zhou Family’s banquets, and most of those present only knew him through his fame in the entertainment industry. Seeing him speak this way, they simply assumed he disdained An Xumo—after all, in the eyes of outsiders, An Xumo had taken Zhou Jinchen’s parents from him.

An Xumo lowered his gaze and softly murmured an apology. He forced a smile at the young man, waving a hand to indicate it was fine.

It’s just that the suit he just bought was scrapped, wasting a bit too much money. He thought to himself that the cost of this suit could have bought plenty of those white T-shirts that had been discarded earlier in the afternoon—that was why he felt so regretful. The softest, most vulnerable part of his heart was being prodded over and over, the pain making it hard to breathe.

The young man seemed to have said a few words to persuade Zhou Jinchen, but An Xumo didn’t catch them. Then Zhou Jinchen told him to go change his clothes. With an apologetic expression, the young man offered to accompany him. Zhou Jinchen frowned, waved them off, and let the two of them leave.

An Xumo was led toward a side exit of the banquet hall, the wine stain on his chest still dripping intermittently as he walked. In such a grand setting, his appearance made him seem even more out of place.

But clothes were just objects—no matter how disheveled they were, they could never look more pathetic than the person wearing them.

He wandered forward in a daze, only realizing something was off after they had taken several winding turns outside. Just as he was about to ask the young man leading the way, the other gestured for him to stay silent. The path ahead grew increasingly complicated until a gray van appeared before them, and the young man finally stopped.

Once An Xumo was ushered into the van, his confusion deepened. The young man, who had also boarded, didn’t offer any immediate explanation. Instead, he retrieved a bag from the back seat and handed it over.

“These are your brother’s clothes—just delivered, still unopened. Make do with them for now.”

An Xumo held the paper bag in his arms, momentarily unable to react. Seeing this, the young man patted his shoulder and said, “Did I scare you? Sorry, your brother wanted to get you out of the banquet.”

He introduced himself, “I’m Xin Zimai, Mr. Zhou’s manager and assistant.”

Only then did An Xumo realize why the other party seemed familiar—he had been looking in the wrong direction. He hadn’t expected the young man to be someone from the industry.

Even so, his wariness barely subsided. “I’m An Xumo… Sorry, but I’d like to leave.”

Xin Zimai gave a slightly apologetic, wry smile. “I’m really sorry about earlier. Let me explain everything first, alright?”

An Xumo’s chest was still damp, but he had no intention of changing clothes here. Remaining somewhat guarded, he nodded slightly. “Go ahead.”

Xin Zimai explained, “At tonight’s birthday banquet, Old Master Zhou will be announcing the distribution of Zhou Corporation’s shares. They called you back to make you relinquish any shares under your name.”

An Xumo frowned, “I don’t have that…”

Xin Zimai said, “I just saw Mr. Zhou Yunshan’s lawyer at the banquet—he’s here specifically for this matter. Before his passing, Mr. Zhou Yunshan independently founded a business group called Yangfan. Yangfan has no financial ties to the Zhou Family, and its shares will legally transfer to you once you reach adulthood. The only way for them to take it is if you willingly sign away your rights.”

An Xumo had never heard of this before. He had been fostered in Zhou Jinchen’s home from a young age and had very little memory of Zhou Yunshan.

Xin Zimai continued, “Mr. Zhou wasn’t initially aware that you had been removed from the family registry. He only started investigating after meeting you this afternoon. Since he was the one who brought you here, he wanted to ensure you got out safely.”

An Xumo looked at him cautiously. “If I’m not there, will my brother… will Mr. Zhou be affected?”

Xin Zimai smiled. “No need to worry about that. Technically speaking, even if the Zhou Family reclaims Yangfan’s shares, they would only end up under Mr. Zhou’s name. He doesn’t care about them, so there won’t be any major obstacles.”

An Xumo was stunned again. If that was the case, then by sending him away, Zhou Jinchen was actually giving up his own interests.

“As for tonight’s incident, Mr. Zhou said he’ll personally apologize to you,” Xin Zimai added. “For now, just change into something more comfortable.”

An Xumo gave a sluggish response. Xin Zimai then stepped out of the van and moved to the driver’s seat, giving him space while also starting the engine.

“Mr. Zhou asked me to take you home first,” Xin Zimai asked. “Where are you staying now?”

An Xumo provided an address. Acting as the driver, Xin Zimai was momentarily stunned. He then asked for a more specific location. Although An Xumo didn’t understand why, he obediently gave the details.

This time, Xin Zimai’s tone became even more peculiar.

“So… you live right below your brother?”

The author has something to say:

One chapter to settle the rich family drama; hands on hips (…

Starting next chapter, we’ll shift to the entertainment industry la. Our poor An Xumo will be attending classes and landing his first resource~

And the male gods chasing after his brother will begin to make their appearances one by one~