The phone rang once again after being hung up, and nobody knew who had hung up so decisively just now.
Rong Ke had said what he needed to say and didn’t want to argue with Jiang Si anymore, so he directly added that familiar number to his blacklist.
The annoying calls finally stopped, but the Weibo messages showed no signs of slowing down.
Rong Ke’s latest Weibo post was wishing the country a happy birthday. It originally only had a dozen comments, but now the comment section was occupied by an influx of melon-eating crowd.
[Let me educate you all, this is the Adam’s apple male god from “Inferno Case”/Rainbow fart]
[I can’t believe there are high-quality handsome guys in domestic entertainment, am I too ignorant?]
[Yan Zhi only follows him, what’s the melon?]
[Damn, my obscure idol has been discovered/Crying]
[What’s this guy’s background, is MQ going to undergo a major reform?/Question mark]
Rong Ke glanced through the messages in the backend, and for now, there were no unfriendly comments appearing.
But he was well aware that this was because Jiang Si’s fans had not mobilized yet.
He exited Weibo, opened his WeChat conversation with Yan Zhi, typed halfway, and deleted everything. Rong Ke directly initiated a voice call.
Unlike the familiar ringtone, Yan Zhi’s voice call ringtone was set to Viva La Vida. When the music started playing, Rong Ke couldn’t help but pause. Even he didn’t know how to set a voice call ringtone – this European guy was really something.
“Hello?” Yan Zhi’s voice came on quickly, as leisurely as usual, as if he wasn’t the one who had just dropped a bomb on Weibo.
“Delete your Weibo post.” Rong Ke said, “You can’t afford to provoke Jiang Si’s fans.”
After all, he was a top star, and his fans’ combat power was not to be underestimated. Jiang Si’s fans, also known as wire balls, left no survivors wherever they went.
Controlling public opinion was a routine operation, and purging forums happened frequently.
If Yan Zhi was a newcomer and the comment section was trampled by Jiang Si’s fans, it wouldn’t look too good.
Yan Zhi sounded like he didn’t hear clearly. “Who can’t I afford to provoke?”
“Jiang Si’s fans,” Rong Ke elaborated, worried that Yan Zhi didn’t understand the Weibo environment, “They’re terrifying.”
Yan Zhi asked, “Do you think I’m afraid?”
Rong Ke didn’t know if it was just his illusion, but he could sense an intent to reform the entire domestic entertainment industry from Yan Zhi’s nonchalant tone.
He let out a light sigh and said, “Don’t blame me for not warning you.”
“Thanks. But I’m a little curious,” Yan Zhi said, “Are you afraid that your boyfriend’s fans will bully me?”
Uh… Rong Ke was at a loss for words.
His position was indeed a bit delicate. If Yan Zhi removed Jiang Si, why would he care about Yan Zhi?
“I’m afraid,” he paused, “you’ll implicate me.”
After all, Yan Zhi had so blatantly outed him, he would also become a target for the wire balls’ attacks.
“Really?” Yan Zhi sounded unconvinced, “I thought your boyfriend would protect you.”
Rong Ke: “……”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Indeed, from Yan Zhi’s perspective, why would Jiang Si allow his fans to attack Rong Ke?
…No, wait.
Rong Ke suddenly realized, was Yan Zhi trying to stir up trouble?
He put Jiang Si in an awkward position. If he allowed his fans to insult Rong Ke, he would be an “unqualified boyfriend”; if he didn’t allow it, then he’d have to support Yan Zhi’s actions, swallowing his broken teeth.
Previously, Rong Ke had thought Yan Zhi was a “prince” detached from mundane affairs, afraid he’d be bullied. Now it seemed he had been blinded by Yan Zhi’s beauty – this person was fully capable of surviving in the entertainment industry.
The only miscalculation was that Rong Ke had already broken up with Jiang Si, so he would probably get trampled pretty badly.
Whatever.
Rong Ke thought indifferently, he could just uninstall Weibo if needed.
“We only had a verbal agreement, aren’t you afraid I’ll back out?” he asked.
“Since you promised, I won’t let you back out,” Yan Zhi said. “Plus, your agent just contacted me, didn’t you know?”
Rong Ke really didn’t know.
The brief silence seemed to let Yan Zhi sense something else. He asked, “Doesn’t your agent look after you?”
Rong Ke didn’t think he was close enough with Yan Zhi to discuss such topics, so he brushed it off, “No.”
“She said not to contact you directly anymore in the future.”
When Yan Zhi relayed this, Rong Ke inexplicably sensed he was asking for approval.
He replied, “Either way is fine.”
He didn’t think he and Yan Zhi would need further contact after this cover shoot.
As he hung up the voice call, another voice request immediately popped up – from Jiang Si.
There were over twenty unread messages on WeChat, the first one asking: You’re going to shoot a cover for MQ?
The rest of the calls were missed calls from him.
Rong Ke had no time to deal with him now, so he directly went to his profile and blocked him.
That’s when Zhuang Kang’s call came in.
The two rarely contacted each other, maybe a few times a year. Her actively reaching out to Rong Ke was quite rare.
Rong Ke answered, “Zhuang-jie.”
“Yan Zhi contacted you, why didn’t you contact me first?” Zhuang Kang asked.
There was no accusation in her tone, but the matter-of-fact attitude still made Rong Ke uncomfortable.
“Didn’t he contact you first?” Rong Ke said.
He didn’t say the second half: You didn’t ask me either.
“You’re not suitable for this cover,” Zhuang Kang explained, then added, “But if Yan Zhi wants to shoot you, we can’t refuse. The contract will definitely go through the company, but we don’t have extra staff right now, so we can’t arrange an assistant for you. Is that okay?”
Rong Ke’s usual private jobs didn’t require sharing profits with the company.
But shooting an MQ cover was too big to be considered a private job. Rong Ke would have to share a portion with the company according to the contract, yet he wouldn’t even have an assistant.
Zhuang Kang seemed to know this wasn’t quite fair, so she added, “Don’t worry though, you won’t need to handle the follow-up team coordination. You just need to go for the shoot.”
Rong Ke pursed his lips. “Okay.”
“Rong Ke,” Zhuang Kang switched to an admonishing tone. “There’s less than two years left on your contract. Behave yourself, and Mr. Zou won’t make things difficult for you.”
Rong Ke replied flatly, “I’m behaving very well.”
“You shouldn’t have taken this cover,” Zhuang Kang said. “But considering you’re upset about the Jiang Si situation, we’ll let it slide this time. Don’t let it happen again.”
Rong Ke felt like laughing. What could they do if they didn’t let it slide?
The company wouldn’t offend Yan Zhi for someone like Rong Ke. Otherwise, none of their artists might be able to work with MQ again.
It sounded like they were making an exception for him, but in reality, they were just powerless.
However, Zhuang Kang did keep her word. The subsequent coordination didn’t trouble Rong Ke at all, and many clauses were added to the contract to ensure his safety during travel.
She was indeed a competent agent, but she chose to dedicate herself to the company, not to Rong Ke.
As for Jiang Si, he was still filming on set and couldn’t return for now.
What Rong Ke didn’t expect was that Jiang Si really did as Yan Zhi said. He posted on Weibo addressing the MQ model change, saying it was due to his schedule conflicts, that Rong Ke was also an excellent actor, they had worked together on “Inferno Case”, had a good relationship privately, and asked fans not to disturb them.
Meanwhile, he had his assistant tell Rong Ke that they’d discuss everything when he returned. Rong Ke couldn’t be bothered to deal with him and enjoyed a few days of peace.
–
The cover shoot location was set on a secluded small island with stretches of white sandy beaches, beautiful scenery, and not yet over-developed for tourism.
As Zhuang Kang said, Rong Ke went alone, leaving photography and styling to Yan Zhi’s MQ team.
“Rong Ke?”
On the ferry, Rong Ke was letting his mind wander, enjoying the sea breeze, when Yan Zhi suddenly called his name.
He turned his head, only to hear a “click” as his picture was snapped.
Since the shooting team gathered, Yan Zhi had been fiddling with his Hasselblad.
Fishermen, docks, seagulls all became his subjects, and now Rong Ke was no exception.
Seeing Yan Zhi intently reviewing the photo, Rong Ke turned his gaze back to the sea.
Although the weather had cooled in late October, the sunshine was just right as the ferry headed south.
Another “Rong Ke” sounded, and Rong Ke turned back unprepared, getting caught in another candid shot.
It felt like being repeatedly disturbed by a naughty kid during leisure time. Rong Ke couldn’t help but say, “If you take another picture, it’ll cost you extra.”
Yan Zhi looked up from his camera, peering over his sunglasses. “How much?”
Rong Ke had just said it offhandedly, not really intending to charge.
As he was about to turn away, Yan Zhi added, “Or I could let you take candid shots of me for free. That would make us even, how about it?”
Who would bother taking candid shots of you? Rong Ke thought.
But looking at Yan Zhi’s face, he figured he wouldn’t lose out, so he didn’t say much.
“What kind of feel do you want?” Rong Ke asked. “I can act out an unintentional glance for you, you don’t need to keep taking candids.”
“Really?” Yan Zhi was clearly interested. “Then lean on the railing and let me take a shot.”
He said one shot, but for the hour-long trip, Yan Zhi kept taking pictures of Rong Ke.
On deck, at the stern, in the cabin. Rong Ke was focused at first but gradually became detached. Yan Zhi seemed to want exactly this state and shot more enthusiastically.
“Look here.” Yan Zhi extended his arm, snapping his fingers in the air, guiding Rong Ke’s gaze.
“Give a bit more emotion… too much, tone it down… perfect.”
Who knows how many shots were taken. Only when the boat was nearing shore did Yan Zhi finally stop.
By then the sun was setting, the cabin bathed in a vintage hue, with golden light glimmering on the sea’s surface.
The two sat down in the back row, away from other passengers. Yan Zhi held out the camera to Rong Ke and asked, “Want to see?”
Rong Ke leaned in.
The camera screen was small, and their foreheads were almost touching as they looked at it.
One by one, the photos scrolled on the screen. Undeniably, Yan Zhi had a talent for photography, capturing Rong Ke’s detached essence perfectly.
With just everyday clothes and an old cabin, Yan Zhi had managed to create images worthy of a fashion spread.
“Nice shots,” Rong Ke said.
“You’re very moldable,” Yan Zhi replied. “It’s fun to train you.”
“…” Rong Ke paused, “It’s called guiding.”
“Oh, forgive my poor Chinese,” Yan Zhi looked up from the camera at Rong Ke. “Tomorrow, I’ll guide you well.”
Author’s note:
Rong Ke: I’d say your Chinese is pretty damn good.
🌸💖🌸💖
I’m really enjoying this story. Thank you for translating!
AND I OOP- Train? Was it really a mistake in choice of words orrr..? Thank so muchieee for translation! 💗
They are already so cute! Thank you for the update! Yan Zhi pls pfttt