If The Persona Is Wrong, Everything Else Is In Vain - Chapter 28

“So what exactly do you want?” The village chief’s expression shifted, and his voice dropped to a low, half-threatening rasp. “Don’t forget your father’s last wishes.”

“Without my permission, he won’t be able to return for the rest of his life!”

Lin Luo paused to reflect. His last wishes? Other people might not know what Lin Shen’s final wishes were, but Lin Luo knew them all too well.

Before he died, Lin Shen had never insisted on finding a plot of land in Shuihe Village to be buried in, nor had he demanded to be laid to rest in the Lin family ancestral grave alongside his forebears.

Perhaps deep down, he knew it himself… he had let down his ancestors.

That was why on his deathbed, he had left behind only a single, subjectless “I’m sorry.” He never specified who he was sorry to, but an open ended “I’m sorry” could apply to everything in the world, or point to anyone at all.

Lin Luo nodded. “Lin Shen is meant to be brought back for burial.”

Hearing this, the village chief’s expression instantly softened. A smile began to return to his face, but before the corners of his mouth could fully curve upward, Lin Luo spoke again.

“But that has absolutely nothing to do with whether I help you smooth over this mess.”

“You!” The village chief pointed a finger at him, let out a heavy, furious sigh, and whipped his hand away. “Ungrateful wretch.”

Trading a dead man’s burial plot just to force a living person to swallow a stomachful of grievance? Is he crazy?

Besides, this wasn’t a transaction that concerned Lin Luo alone, he wasn’t the only victim. Thousands of colleagues from the production crew were still waiting for justice and a proper resolution.

No one takes it well when an unprovoked disaster drops out of the sky onto their head.

If the village chief could use his supposedly omnipotent powers to give every single victim a proper explanation, then perhaps that would be a different story.

“Actually, I’m quite curious,” Ming Songqin said, looking directly at the village chief and cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “Why are you protecting Lin Er-mao so fiercely?”

The village chief’s posture stiffened imperceptibly. Attempting to brush it off vaguely, he said, “Well… it’s just that he once saved my life. I’ve always been someone who draws a clear line between gratitude and grievances. I have to repay my debts.”

“What exactly did he do to help you?” Ming Songqin cut him off, leaving no room for evasion.

The moment those words left his mouth, not only did the people from the production crew look over, but even the group of local thugs couldn’t help but cast searching glances their way.

The adults in the village had long harbored suspicions about the nature of his relationship with Lin Er-mao. Over time, the rumors had mutated into all sorts of outrageous versions. Normally, such discussions were strictly forbidden, so everyone simply “played dumb while knowing the truth.” However, a situation like today’s was not something one encountered on a regular basis.

Everyone’s innate urge to gossip was instantly triggered.

“I…” The village chief stammered. He clearly hadn’t thought up a plausible lie yet, having never expected Ming Songqin to press him so relentlessly.

Just as his face was turning bright red from distress, Ming Songqin suddenly let him off the hook. “You are a busy man, and the people around you are a mixed bag. There’s no telling what kind of nonsense is being whispered into your ears.” His gaze swept over to Lin Er-mao, who was currently being held down by the chief and didn’t dare to cause trouble.

Pausing for a moment, Ming Songqin continued, “But you still need to clear your head from time to time. Don’t go forgetting things you shouldn’t forget.”

As if grasping a literal lifeline, the village chief’s heart, which had been leaping into his throat, instantly settled back down. But then he remembered something, and he threw a casual, involuntary glance at Lin Luo.

Gritting his teeth, his face pale, he nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, of course I remember. I remember.”

Ming Songqin pointed at Lin Er-mao and said, “Then, as you can see….”

Before he could even finish his sentence, the village chief personally grabbed Lin Ermao by the collar, hauled him down the steps, and handed him over to the police under everyone’s watchful eyes.

The local thugs weren’t left behind either, they were loaded into a vehicle right after their leader to go receive some much-needed “positive civic education.”

Once the open ground had cleared out, Lin Luo finally turned his head to ask Ming Songqin, “What is going on between you and him?”

Ming Songqin clapped his hands together, dismissing it lightly. “He’s looking for investments, and I’m the sponsor.”

Lin Luo’s brow furrowed slightly. “Just that?”

“Shuihe Village’s tourism development is doing quite well, it’s not like he can’t find sponsors elsewhere,” Lin Luo countered. “Even without you, there would be other investors. Yet a single sentence from you was enough to frighten him until his face turned pale.”

“Just how desperately strapped for cash is he?”

During the time Lin Luo was most desperately broke, trying to cover Luo Wenying’s medical bills, he had gone without food for four meals over two days. Even under those extreme circumstances, he had never done anything out of line that could give people leverage over him. To put it simply, if you haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t fear a ghost knocking on your door. If the village chief didn’t have some sort of dirt held over him by Ming Songqin, how could he be threatened so easily?

His intuition told him it wasn’t that simple.

Ming Songqin gave a mysterious smile. Reaching out, he ruffled Lin Luo’s hair and said softly, “You’re still young. You don’t have a real concept of money. And when it comes to people, you have even less of a concept.” His words were deliberately ambiguous.

Lin Luo: …Does he really have to act like such a pretentious poser?

“Alright, go get some rest. We have an early start tomorrow,” Ming Songqin said.

After speaking, he silently looked up toward the upper floor. Gu Ning was still there, leaning his chin on his hand and looking down at them. He wore loose pajamas and had gotten out of bed in such a hurry that he hadn’t bothered to neaten himself up, a large portion of his snow-white shoulder was exposed, revealing a deep collarbone.

The two men locked eyes in a silent standoff for a brief moment. It finally concluded with Gu Ning rolling his eyes, flashing a “friendly” hand gesture, and turning around to head back inside to sleep.

Lin Luo reached out to grab Ming Songqin’s sleeve as the latter turned to walk back. “Um… how is his situation? Will he… come back?”

Ming Songqin glanced down at the hand tugging at his clothes and replied, “I’m not a doctor.”

“Oh.”

Lin Luo blinked, suddenly realizing his lapse in etiquette. He hurriedly let go, only for Ming Songqin to catch his hand in a reverse grip. Lowering his head, Ming Songqin murmured quietly, “If you’re going to hold onto me, you have to hold my hand.”

Lin Luo: “?”

Suddenly, Gu Ning’s warning echoed in his mind. He took a step backward, awkwardly trying to withdraw his hand, but the grip on it only tightened.

Anxiety fluttered in his chest as a faint premonition began to take shape.

A thin layer of sweat broke out on his palm, and his back felt clammy. His hand slipped slightly, and with a final effort, he managed to pull it free. He let out a couple of dry laughs. “I’ll go ahead and… go to sleep first. You should get some rest early too.”

Ming Songqin’s voice floated over from behind him. “Do you know why I blacklisted you back then?”

Lin Luo froze in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “It’s all in the past.”

“It’s not past for me,” Ming Songqin said.

From an angle where Lin Luo couldn’t see, he pressed a finger against his own chest. “It won’t pass here, with me.”

“I was the one who appeared first, yet in the end, I was a step too slow. If I hadn’t…”

“It is already in the past for me,” Lin Luo interrupted him. “And besides, in my heart, you have always been an excellent boss and an older brother figure.”

Only after Lin Luo had completely vanished from his line of sight did the breath trapped in Ming Songqin’s chest finally release. The night breeze blew gently, gradually cooling a heart that ran with scalding blood.

With a bitter smile, he lifted the object he had been clutching tightly in his palm all this time, having found no opportunity to take it out.

It was a piece of pitch-black stone, seemingly engraved with something, though only half of it remained now.

It wasn’t made of high-quality material, just something picked up at random from the mountain. The carving craftsmanship was incredibly poor, the unrecognizable camellia flower on it had even been laughed at by Lin Luo when they were children.

He looked down at the stone, his fingertips tracing the outline whose edges had grown smooth over time. In the end, it could no longer fit the contours of the other half.

He murmured softly to himself, “You will never understand.”

Time flew by. In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed. During this period, thanks to the director’s “staying calm in the face of crisis” decision, the results of broadcasting while simultaneously filming provided a massive boost to the show’s popularity and the guests’ traffic.

Not only did the Lin-Zhou CP take off, but even Ming Songqin and Gu Ning, two people who normally avoided each other like the plague, went viral under the label of “mortal enemies.”

Upon learning of this, Gu Ning flew into a towering rage. He flooded the media with press releases to urgently suppress the heat surrounding their CP, explicitly clarifying through various channels that they were purely genuine rivals.

As it turned out, this behavior did nothing to halt the public discourse. Instead, it made the casual netizens shipping them even more rebellious. Unexpectedly, the trending heat of those two managed to surpass the Lin-Zhou pairing on several occasions.

Lin Luo sat on a reclining chair scrolling through his phone, laughing out loud as he pointed at the tag “Gu Ning’s Debate Tournament Against Netizens.”

A pillow came flying through the air, heading straight for Lin Luo’s face. With quick reflexes, Lin Luo caught it with one hand, disarming his boss and tossing the weapon aside. He teased, “President Gu is practically on the verge of getting into physical fights with people over here, while your teammate over there isn’t anxious at all.”

After that fateful night, Lin Luo had initially felt awkward. Yet Ming Songqin acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Showing no signs of abnormality, he continued to look after Lin Luo with great attentiveness.

But this time, a subtle shift seemed to have taken place. If Lin Luo continued to act awkward, it would instead make him seem overly sensitive. Thus, the two resumed their usual dynamic, interacting just as they always had.

Aside from the month spent recording the show, there would be few opportunities for direct contact with Ming Songqin in the future anyway.

Gu Ning vented in a silent roar, “Who knows what’s wrong with him? The sky is falling, and he actually has the spare time to learn needlework.”

He glared in the direction of Ming Songqin, who was currently studying embroidery stitch by stitch alongside a local village woman not far away, his anger flaring up.

Lin Luo followed his gaze, pressing his lips together. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, honestly.” Suppressing a laugh, he added, “Who knows, President Gu, you might just shoot to fame and become the second artist under our agency. You can debut directly by riding this wave of traffic, saves us marketing money, doesn’t it?”

“In the future, this little brother’s wealth and prosperity will depend entirely on you.” Lin Luo cupped his hands toward him, adopting a solemn expression.

Gu Ning ground his teeth so hard they nearly shattered. Suddenly, a spark of inspiration hit him. He relaxed his jaw and said airily, “I heard Zhou Wan is coming back today.”

Sure enough, Lin Luo’s smile froze instantly on his face.

As a teammate and colleague, Lin Luo really ought to send his regards to Zhou Wan. However, he had drafted messages thousands of times on his phone, only to fail to send a single line every single time.

Zhou Wan had gone away to recuperate from his injuries, which was definitely better than staying here. If anything bad happened to him, not only would Lin Luo gain nothing from it, but a single word from the Zhou family might cause the two of them to split up immediately. That was how Lin Luo reasoned it.

After all, he didn’t know who the driving force was that kept them tied to the same rope.

Regarding news about Zhou Wan, he could only find out from Ming Songqin’s mouth. But Ming Songqin never brought it up, and to avoid awkwardness, Lin Luo hadn’t actively pressed for information either.

Hearing news about Zhou Wan out of nowhere from Gu Ning caused Lin Luo’s mind to go blank for a second. “How do you know?”

Gu Ning took a bite of a loquat freshly picked from the tree. It was so sour it made his teeth shudder, and he spat it out. “If my inside information wasn’t sharp, why would I even be the boss?”

Not far away, a black business van drove straight toward them. Gu Ning chin gestured toward it. “See for yourself.”

The vehicle came to a steady halt right in front of the temporary sunshade rest area. First, a long leg stepped down, closely followed by the other.

Zhou Wan hung his sunglasses backward over his ears, letting them rest on the back of his head. He wore a well-tailored suit that emphasized his elegant build. Paired with a perfectly measured curve at the corner of his lips, he looked undeniably charming.

An appearance of this caliber made him a natural born star.

“Long time no see.”

He offered a slight wave of his hand, directed at Gu Ning, and also at Lin Luo.

He was being excessively polite today, to the point where it would make anyone suspect his motives. Gu Ning scanned him up and down several times, clicking his tongue. After nodding in acknowledgment, he tactfully slid away to the side.

“You’re fully recovered?” Lin Luo cast a flat, expressionless glance over him.

Zhou Wan raised an eyebrow, opened his arms, and spun around on the spot before tilting his head slightly. “As you can see.”

Zhou Wan was someone who detested following rigid rules. He naturally carried a bit of a rogue aura and a rogue demeanor; he absolutely never wore formal attire outside of official settings.

That suit and the meticulously styled hair were proof that he had just come from some formal event and hadn’t had the time to “change out of his skin” yet.

Seeing Lin Luo staring intently at him, Zhou Wan said shamelessly, “What? You like it?”

Lin Luo swiftly averted his gaze, grabbed the ice water beside him, and took a swig.

Under the sunlight, the Shuihe River gleamed with rippling waves. Following the rain, the water levels had risen, flowing somewhat rapidly. The bright glare pierced his eyes, making it hard to keep them open. He pointed toward the river, squinting as he murmured vaguely, “I like it.”

Zhou Wan sat down on the reclining chair beside him, picking up a fan to fan the air for him. He said conversationally, “The old man set up a dinner party and insisted I attend.”

“Mm.” Lin Luo nodded half-heartedly.

Zhou Wan was sitting too close. Wafts of his cologne kept drifting into Lin Luo’s nose. The scent wasn’t overpowering, but Lin Luo had a sharp sense of smell.

“I told him that usually, he can’t wait for me to disappear from his sight forever, so why was he being so forceful about dragging me over this time? Turns out he had arranged a blind date for me. He even said that if I didn’t agree, I could get the hell out of the Zhou family and never claim my last name is Zhou while out in public,” Zhou Wan said.

“…Mm.”

Zhou Wan cast a side glance at him. “Guess what I said.”

Lin Luo took another sip of the ice water, keeping his eyes glued to the river surface without turning his gaze anywhere else. “You agreed.”

Zhou Wan seemed to be in a pretty good mood, merely letting out a laughing curse. “You really don’t understand me at all, do you?”

“I told him, there are oceans of surnames out there in the world, and I don’t necessarily have to be named Zhou.” He chuckled to himself as he spoke, barely able to keep a straight face. “For instance, I could always take the surname Lin.”