I Won Over My Best Friend’s Idol - Chapter 9

“Zheng-ge, where did you disappear to last night? What happened to that woman afterward? Are you alright?” The moment Xiao Huang saw Zheng Yi, he started buzzing like a hyperactive sparrow. It was enough to give anyone a massive headache.

Zheng Yi crossed his wrists in a “time-out” gesture, signaling his assistant to pause. “Completely unscathed. We’re on a tight schedule, so let’s get my makeup done first.”

To this day, Zheng Yi still wondered what Chen-ge had seen in Xiao Huang to hire him as an assistant. Xiao Huang was great at organizing and managing schedules, but his mouth simply lacked a deadbolt. If left unchecked, he could rattle on for eternity.

Seeing that Zheng Yi genuinely looked perfectly fine, Xiao Huang finally quieted down. He quickly shot a text to their manager to report that the star had arrived safely and there was no need to worry.

While Zheng Yi was in the makeup chair, Xiao Huang began scrolling through Weibo. Whenever he spotted negative comments targeting Zheng Yi, he immediately forwarded them to the heads of the fan clubs, instructing them to coordinate a cleanup so the haters wouldn’t tarnish Zheng Yi’s public image.

Today’s schedule was an outdoor shoot for a sneaker endorsement. Xiao Huang had originally planned totag along, but within a matter of minutes, a new trending topic shattered the peace: #ZhengYiSpottedAtHotelWithMysteriousWoman #SeeminglyIntimate. The hashtag spread like wildfire, rapidly climbing into the top ten of the Hot Search chart.

Before Xiao Huang could even dial the manager, his phone rang…it was Chen-ge. Simultaneously, messages from the fan club leaders flooded in, frantically demanding an explanation.

“Chen-ge, I actually saw the woman in the photos last night,” Xiao Huang stammered, breaking into a cold sweat. “Zheng-ge does seem to treat her a bit differently, but I’m pretty sure she’s not his girlfriend.”

If Xiao Huang hadn’t been there last night, it would be one thing. But he had been there and still let a woman get that close to Zheng Yi. He could already feel his bonus for the month evaporating.

“I’ll try to suppress it with some other trending news for now,” Chen Yuan sighed on the other end. “We’ll wait until he finishes his shoot and ask him how he wants to handle it.”

Zheng Yi was a superstar hand-picked and nurtured by Chen Yuan himself, and the agency valued him immensely. Their recent contract renewal had gone incredibly smoothly, leaving both sides satisfied. Now that a scandal like this had dropped, the company needed to intervene immediately before it snowballed into something worse.

After hanging up, Xiao Huang sent a vague, non-committal reply to the fan leaders, simply stating that the agency was on top of it and would update them once they had a definitive answer.

Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Xiao Huang reflected on how rare it was for Zheng Yi to be caught up in romance rumors. Usually, if anyone tried to latch onto his fame for clout, they were exposed instantly.

But this time… Xiao Huang knew the photos were real. He just couldn’t fathom why the two of them were together. Was that woman a calculating social climber looking to ride his coat-tails?

Come to think of it, she had looked incredibly familiar last night. Xiao Huang strained his limited brain cells until it suddenly clicked…wasn’t she the same woman who had sung a duet with Zheng Yi at his concert?

Suddenly, the distinct scent of a secret romance filled the air. No wonder Zheng Yi had seemed a bit distracted at work lately; love was clearly in the air.

Before Chen Yuan could even choose which piece of gossip to buy to bury Zheng Yi’s scandal, the Hot Search board exploded with an even bigger bombshell. Unlike the blurry, ambiguous photos of Zheng Yi, this new post targeted a completely different celebrity and it came packed with ironclad proof, including videos and voice recordings.

The vast majority of netizens were just looking for entertainment anyway. Seeing a much juicier drama unfold elsewhere, the digital mob instantly migrated to the new scandal. Consequently, the heat on Zheng Yi’s search topic plummeted.

“Looks like we just saved some money,” Chen Yuan remarked to his staff, his heart finally settling as the numbers dropped. “Keep a close eye on it. If nothing unexpected happens, just leave it alone.”

Still, Chen Yuan decided he needed to see Zheng Yi in person. Some things had to be asked face-to-face.

By the time Zheng Yi returned from the shoot, his makeup was slightly smudged. As he sat down to cleanse his face, Xiao Huang began chattering away again. “Zheng-ge, you have no idea how close that was! If Tu Ye’s girlfriend hadn’t exposed him for cheating and with two different women at that Chen-ge would have absolutely skinned you alive.”

Zheng Yi pulled out his phone and located his own thread, which had already sunk to the bottom of the charts. He saved two of the photos. The person taking them was clearly a professional paparazzi; the angles were incredibly deceptive, and they had actually reversed the chronological order of the pictures.

In reality, he had walked out of the hotel first, and then gone back inside. Kong Yinmeng had only run after him to return his phone. He distinctly remembered putting it in his jacket pocket, but when he went downstairs and wanted to call Xiao Huang, he realized it was gone.

The moment he turned back toward the hotel lobby to head back upstairs, Kong Yinmeng had timed it perfectly, running down to hand it over. Because it had all happened in a flash, the camera had only captured the blurry silhouette of her back.

“Tu Ye is completely ruined this time,” Xiao Huang gossiped. “I warned him ages ago to keep his personal life clean, but he wouldn’t listen. The problem is, The Wind is supposed to start filming soon. Now that he’s hit with a massive scandal, the director will probably have to delay the cameras.”

Zheng Yi was currently trying to transition from a pop idol into acting. His very first acting project was The Wind, helmed by a highly acclaimed director. Because it was Zheng Yi’s first role, the director had been hesitant to burden him with the lead, instead casting him as a complex supporting character a star student who devolves into a street thug, only to eventually sacrifice his life to save the heroine.

Tu Ye’s private life was a chaotic mess, but his acting skills were undeniable, which was why he had landed the male lead. Now that the lead actor was blacklisted, the director was undoubtedly nursing a massive headache.

Chen Yuan called, telling them not to leave just yet. He was bringing over a few reality TV show proposals for Zheng Yi to look through.

The Wind was originally scheduled to shoot in three days, but due to the lead actor’s downfall, the director had made a snap decision to postpone production for at least half a month.

Zheng Yi’s schedule was usually packed tightly. He had events lined up for the next three days, but the four months following that had been cleared entirely for The Wind.

“I know you dislike reality shows and prefer to keep your fans out of your private life,” Chen Yuan said as he arrived, launching into the speech he had rehearsed on the drive over. He picked up Xiao Huang’s water glass to parch his throat. “But we have a half-month gap that we absolutely must fill. Didn’t you say you wanted to transition into acting? Actors are different from singers. A singer just needs to sound good, but an actor needs public appeal and relatability. Variety shows are one of the best ways to test and build that appeal.”

Chen Yuan laid out five different show invitations two slow-paced lifestyle shows and three competitive physical variety shows. Personally, he favored the competitive ones, believing they would showcase a different, more dynamic side of Zheng Yi that would benefit his long-term career.

“Let’s go with this one. It’s a ten-day shoot, which leaves you five days to arrange other schedules,” Zheng Yi said, flipping through the documents and pointing to a travel-centric reality show.

Chen Yuan glanced at the title and frowned in confusion. “Why choose such a low-budget indie show? The director is a complete newcomer, and the only confirmed regular cast members are a washed-up actor and a literal tier-thirteen singer. With your market value, they probably can’t even afford your appearance fee.”

Chen Yuan had only included that proposal to serve as a bad example, hoping the contrast would highlight how much better the high-end competitive shows were.

“Chen-ge, look at the celebrities locked in for the other shows. If I go there, will I actually get any meaningful screen time?” Zheng Yi countered calmly.

Every major variety show had its designated anchors. The three competitive shows already had established, notorious “variety veterans” as regulars. How could a singer who had never done a proper reality show compete with seasoned comedians for camera time? If anything, he would likely be edited maliciously for drama, which would do more harm than good.

“Strictly speaking in terms of star power, if I join In Search of Food and Time, the camera will naturally focus on me. It’ll mean far less backstage politics and unnecessary trouble.”

Chen Yuan remained skeptical. “Did you read the rules carefully? The format requires three permanent cast members, and each must bring one non-celebrity friend of the opposite sex to embark on a mysterious journey. Do you even have a civilian female friend you can bring onto a show?”

As his manager, Chen Yuan knew Zheng Yi spent almost all his waking hours in training or working. He practically had zero opportunity to make regular friends in his daily life.

A shadow of a smile flickered in Zheng Yi’s eyes, making it blindingly obvious that he already had someone specific in mind. Watching him, Chen Yuan had the sudden, distinct premonition that his carefully raised superstar was about to go wild over a girl.

“Mengmeng, why on earth did you video-call me in the dead of night? You almost ruined a perfectly good night for me!” Lu Fangcao scolded over the phone. She had dropped her latest fling off at school early that morning and had just woken up from a much-needed nap to settle scores with Kong Yinmeng.

They had been best friends for years; how could she ruthlessly disrupt her midnight fun?

Kong Yinmeng: “…” If Fangcao found out she had accidentally saved her from a video call with Zheng Yi, she would probably be furious enough to chop her young puppy-boyfriend into pieces.

“Your little Xiao Xi is practically still a kid. You need to pace yourself,” Kong Yinmeng teased. “Don’t ruin the poor boy’s stamina and then refuse to take responsibility. Karma will find you!”

Lu Fangcao scoffed at that. How was any of this her fault?

“He’s an adult! He’ll be nineteen in two months. Besides, I didn’t chase him; he’s the one who won’t stop clinging to me. You have no idea how needy these younger guys can be. We’re apart for a single hour and he’s already texting that he misses me. Once he tastes the bitter reality of love, he’ll mature. If anything, he should be thanking me for the life lesson.”

Only Lu Fangcao could spout such shameless nonsense with a straight face. Kong Yinmeng had long since grown immune to it. She quickly steered the conversation away so they could remain civil.

“Anyway, you still haven’t told me why you called me last night,” Lu Fangcao asked, genuinely curious. Whenever Kong Yinmeng went traveling, she usually dropped off the grid entirely, only sending an occasional pin drop to prove she was still breathing. Calling out of the blue was entirely out of character.

Realizing the topic had looped back, Kong Yinmeng walked over to the hotel room’s wall switch. She turned on the lights, flipped her phone’s camera around, and said, “Look! I just wanted to show you how beautiful the lighting is in this hotel!”

An eerie silence stretched over the line before Lu Fangcao’s voice exploded through the speaker. “Kong Yinmeng, are you out of your absolute mind?! I need to catch up on my sleep and you called me to look at a light fixture?! Look at it yourself!”

Click.

As the line went dead, Kong Yinmeng exhaled a long breath of relief. Thank goodness she had managed to bluff her way out of that. If Lu Fangcao ever found out that she and Zheng Yi had shared a bed for an entire night, her friend’s metaphorical forty-meter blade wouldn’t be easily put away.

As noon approached, Kong Yinmeng decided to head out to find something to eat. She pulled up a map to search for nearby restaurants, but before she could even reach for the doorknob, Lu Fangcao’s ringtone blared again.

“I thought you were going back to sleep?” Kong Yinmeng asked, pulling out her room card.

Instead of an answer, Lu Fangcao’s voice came through the receiver, sounding drippingly sinister. “My dear Mengmeng… I highly advise you to change your outfit before you step outside. Otherwise, I fear you might get skinned alive by a mob of angry fans.”

Kong Yinmeng’s face blanked into utter confusion. What had she done to deserve getting skinned alive?

“Have you seriously not looked at the Hot Search? Wait, never mind, the main topic was already taken down. Go search Zheng Yi’s name and look at the photos. Tell me if the woman’s outfit looks familiar. The clothes you’re wearing right now were my birthday gift to you. There is no way I’d mistake it.”

Lu Fangcao’s explanation was crystal clear. If Kong Yinmeng still didn’t get it, she’d be an absolute idiot. Hot Search, Zheng Yi, her exact outfit… Putting those pieces together spelled nothing but an absolute disaster.

Instantly pulling her hand back from the door, Kong Yinmeng frantically opened her Weibo app to look up Zheng Yi. A second later, she dashed over to her suitcase, aggressively rummaging through her things for a replacement outfit.

Yep. That dress was officially going into permanent retirement.

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