The lounge was bustling outside. Staff carrying clothes and equipment hurried around, and Luo Ding felt a bit dizzy watching it all. Still, it was better than staying inside with Xu Zhen.
The thought of being in the same room as Xu Zhen made him uncomfortable. His former lover had fallen into such a pitiable state, and though Luo Ding hated him, he couldn’t stand to see him in his old, weakened form. Seeing Xu Zhen also reminded him of their violent dispute before his death, the explosion that followed, and how Xu had helped Su Shengbai cover up the truth. The man who once held a cherished place in his heart had long since lost all his appeal.
Leaning against the wall, Luo Ding sighed, trying to clear his thoughts. Before he could fully compose himself, the door beside him opened, and out came Su Shengbai.
“Why aren’t you sitting inside?” Su Shengbai’s attitude was noticeably softer than in previous meetings, and as he smiled and moved closer, he tried to put a hand on Luo Ding’s shoulder.
Luo Ding, now less wary of him, subtly sidestepped to avoid the touch.
Su Shengbai looked surprised. “You…”
“There are people around,” Luo Ding said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket but not lighting one.
Su Shengbai glanced around and quickly accepted the explanation, giving a sheepish smile before leaning against the wall next to him.
“When did you start smoking?”
“After you left.”
The original Luo Ding didn’t smoke—this was a bad habit from Cao Dingkun.
Su Shengbai couldn’t help but feel awkward at the mention of leaving. The ambiguous answer made him both happy and unsure of how to respond.
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.
Luo Ding realized his words had led to a misunderstanding but didn’t bother correcting him. Let him imagine whatever he wanted. Compared to the isolation and hostility he faced when he first reincarnated, Luo Ding now had the means to protect himself. He no longer needed to play the submissive, emotionally vulnerable role. Su Shengbai would never fully trust him anyway, so constantly lowering his guard wouldn’t be wise.
Luo Ding’s indifference made Su Shengbai uneasy.
In their past relationship, Luo Ding had always been the silent protector—stubborn, steadfast, and unwavering in his devotion. Over time, Su Shengbai had grown used to Luo Ding’s patience and indulgence, taking it for granted and appreciating it less and less.
Now, Luo Ding was different.
Su Shengbai felt the need to say something. He kept stealing glances at the young man beside him, who was playing with his lighter. Luo Ding’s aloof demeanor was already drawing the attention of passersby, and if they weren’t so busy, Su Shengbai was sure they would be snapping pictures.
These subtle glances made him nervous. He had many things he wanted to say but knew this wasn’t the time or place. Recently, Xu Zhen had grown increasingly suspicious of him. If it weren’t for the fact that they were here to record a show, Xu Zhen wouldn’t have let him leave his side. Su Shengbai was on edge, feeling isolated. Even Universal Entertainment, which had previously backed him, seemed to be ignoring him now. His manager had cleared his schedule for the filming of *The Assassin*, but with Xu Zhen constantly on edge, Su Shengbai was starting to feel suffocated.
Luo Ding wasn’t his only hope, but he was one of the few valuable resources left. Su Shengbai was desperate to reestablish their connection.
Just as Su Shengbai was about to speak, the door behind them swung open, and Pan Yiming’s sweet voice rang out.
“I didn’t expect Director Xu to be so easygoing…”
Both men quickly hid their emotions.
Luo Ding straightened up, and as they looked inside, they saw Pan Yiming pushing Xu Zhen’s wheelchair out. Xu Zhen, sitting calmly with a gentle smile, glanced at the two men outside.
“Why are you standing here? Isn’t it noisy?” he asked with a smile.
Luo Ding casually put his cigarette pack back in his pocket and returned the smile. “I was going to have a smoke, but it’s a no-smoking area outside.”
Su Shengbai, feeling Xu Zhen’s gaze on him, nervously added, “We haven’t seen each other in a while, so we got carried away talking.”
Xu Zhen repeated Su Shengbai’s words with a smile. “Talking, huh?”
He then patted Wu Yuan, who was walking beside him. “You’re heading to record your show, right? Don’t mind me. Su Shengbai can push me back.”
As the three walked away, Su Shengbai, who had gained no useful information from the brief exchange, fell silent, feeling dejected.
Xu Zhen remained quiet as well, occasionally nodding to people who greeted him.
Once the door closed, Xu Zhen’s voice turned cold. “What were you talking about?”
Su Shengbai froze for a moment before realizing Xu was questioning him.
“Talking? You mean Luo Ding?” he stammered.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“What else would we talk about? He’s getting more popular, and we’re busy with the audition process for *The Assassin*. We invited him to participate, but he hasn’t responded. Still, with his current popularity, having him join the film would be a huge advantage, right?”
Xu Zhen’s smile faded, replaced by a cold sneer. “Really?”
“Why would I lie to you?” Su Shengbai retorted, feeling indignant.
Xu Zhen didn’t believe him. The last time they met, Luo Ding had been polite and respectful. Now, only a short time later, his attitude had clearly changed. Xu Zhen doubted that Luo’s newfound arrogance was just due to his rising fame. There was still politeness, but the warmth and desire to connect were gone.
Polite, but distant.
This wasn’t the behavior Xu Zhen expected from an actor eager to build a relationship with a director.
If no one had been whispering in Luo Ding’s ear, Xu Zhen didn’t believe he would have changed his attitude so drastically.
Xu’s injury had healed enough for him to walk, but he stayed in the wheelchair to garner sympathy.
As Su Shengbai folded clothes, he barely had time to look at Xu before being struck in the stomach by a harsh kick.
The force sent him flying backward, crashing into a rack of clothes.
Clutching his stomach in pain, Su Shengbai screamed, “What the hell?!”
“Shut up!” Xu Zhen snarled, his face dark and threatening. “Don’t think you’re safe. I’m not stupid, and I won’t be kept in the dark forever. I’ve cleaned up enough of your messes to land you in jail a hundred times over. Even if you get out, you’ll be disgraced. If you don’t want that kind of end, stay in line. Once we finish *The Assassin*, we go our separate ways.”
Su Shengbai froze in shock, trembling. “What do you mean by that?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you?”
“No!” he quickly interrupted, terrified of being overheard. Lowering his voice, he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear I haven’t done anything wrong. Xu-ge, I—”
He crawled toward Xu Zhen, clinging to his legs and looking up with teary eyes. “I care about you…”
Xu Zhen, disgusted, kicked him away again and turned his wheelchair toward the door.
“Stop pretending. I know exactly who you are.”
When the door opened, Su Shengbai quickly hid, afraid someone would see him. Only after Xu Zhen left did he crawl out of his hiding place, shaking with fear.
Xu’s words had terrified him.
Ruined? Disgraced? The only thing that could ruin him was Cao Dingkun’s death. Though it had been disguised as an accident, there were too many loose ends, and Xu Zhen had been the one to smooth them over.
Su Shengbai had thought everything was taken care of.
But now he realized Xu Zhen likely held all the evidence, keeping it as leverage to control him for the rest of his life.
What should he do? What could he do?!
For the first time in his life, Su Shengbai realized he was trapped in a web of his own making.
*********
After recording the Mandarin TV show, Luo Ding appeared on several similar programs.
Wu Yuan and Pan Yiming, who accompanied him on the promotion tour, were pleased with their chance encounter with the famous director Xu Zhen. They frequently brought it up in conversation, though they noticed Luo Ding never joined in. Coupled with the way Luo had treated Xu at Mandarin TV, they soon realized that Luo Ding didn’t like Xu Zhen.
They toned down their enthusiasm a bit but couldn’t help worrying that Luo Ding’s open distaste for Xu Zhen was unwise. As an actor, it wasn’t smart to show such clear preferences.
Though Luo Ding was just in his twenties, his mature demeanor often made them forget his age. His calm, thoughtful nature was reassuring but also raised suspicions that he was more calculating than he appeared. Good relationships didn’t always equate to trust, and Luo Ding’s firm rejection of Xu Zhen only made Pan and Wu feel closer to him.
After several rounds of promotional appearances, the buzz surrounding *Tang Legend* reached a peak.
Taking advantage of the public’s growing interest in Luo Ding’s portrayal of Fu Zhu, Yaxing Studio released the news that Luo would be appearing in *Blade Warrior III*.
In one night, the story spread across major websites. Gu Yaxing had finally mastered the art of media manipulation, and this time, rather than an official announcement, he hired a professional PR agency to quietly spread the news online.
He was baiting them.
Luo Ding had risen too fast. He was famous, but fame also attracted enemies. On top of Luo’s personal rivals, there was the giant Universal Entertainment, which had been targeting Yaxing Studio for years. This was Gu Yaxing’s greatest concern.
Luo Ding’s EP was scheduled for release soon.
Before Luo left for his audition in the U.S., Gu Yaxing had discovered something that made his blood boil.
Universal Entertainment had accelerated the release of a new album by the popular Korean idol group Mellen.
Why?
Mellen was one of the hottest groups in China, signed to South Korea’s biggest entertainment company, J·F. The company was notorious for scandals—abuse of artists, regional discrimination, shady deals—but they were also excellent at packaging their stars, ensuring that nearly every singer they debuted became a hit.
Though many of their stars were short-lived, J·F didn’t care. To them, artists were disposable tools.
Mellen was a lucky exception, with 16 members (8 boys and 8 girls), who debuted at the age of 16 and quickly became stars in Korea before making a splash in China.
At that time, China’s music industry was in a slump. Established singers were retiring, and new ones struggled to find their footing. Mellen brought fresh, energetic pop songs that swept across the country like a gust of spring wind.
Universal quickly partnered with J·F and secured partial control over the group. Combining Universal’s local expertise with J·F’s packaging abilities, the group released several successful EPs before preparing to drop their first full-length Chinese album.
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