Mr. Lu Was Devastated After I Left - Chapter 5

After seeing Lan Lin off, Xu Zhuoyang spent the rest of the day immersed in his script. He adjusted his emotions in front of the mirror over and over, reciting lines until he did not even notice when Lu Beiye returned home.

Lu Beiye stood outside the walk in closet, mesmerized as he watched the man standing before the full length mirror.

Xu Zhuoyang was completely unaware of his presence, entirely consumed by the role. His usual casual, carefree demeanor had vanished. Standing there was no longer Xu Zhuoyang, but Shan Wu, the protagonist of Shadow.

His hair was perfectly groomed, and his face was covered in light makeup designed to look like grime and dirt. A disturbingly realistic wound stretched across half of his face. His eyes were bloodshot, swirling with immense grief and agony. His hands, clenched into fists, trembled uncontrollably. Staring into the mirror, he demanded in a voice thick with fury, “Why? The one you hate is me! Why did you drag other innocent people into this?”

“You are a forensic doctor! You should be seeking justice for the dead, but look at you. You are the source of their misery!”

In Xu Zhuoyang’s eyes, the man in the mirror had transformed into a twin brother, the murderer who toyed with scalpels, his face splattered with blood, bearing the exact same face as his own.

Lu Beiye stood in the doorway, watching silently. He had an illusion of being immersed in the scene himself. It felt as if he had stepped into the world Xu Zhuoyang had created. He felt as though there was someone standing in front of Xu Zhuoyang, and the environment around them had shifted.

He had to admit that Xu Zhuoyang’s growth over the past five years had been lightning fast. As the youngest actor to win the double crowned Best Actor award, his reputation was well earned.

Xu Zhuoyang was truly serious about fighting for the lead role in Shadow. Lu Beiye had come home with a belly full of reasons to persuade him otherwise, but at this moment, he swallowed them all.

Let it be.

He sighed and tapped the doorframe. “Ayang?”

Hearing the familiar voice, Xu Zhuoyang turned slowly, his eyes still holding a bloodthirsty hatred that startled Lu Beiye.

It took Xu Zhuoyang a long moment to pull himself out of character. “Brother? You are home early today.”

“It is nearly eight o’clock. It is not early.”

He glanced at the clock and realized with a start how late it was. “I have not cooked dinner yet!”

Having lost track of time, he had forgotten such an important task. He quickly took off his coat and headed toward the kitchen.

Lu Beiye stood outside, watching the busy figure in the apron. He suddenly felt a sense of home. When he was a child, his father was always out for work and social engagements, often returning in the middle of the night. At home, it was just him and his mother. Back then, his mother seemed just like this, wearing an apron, chopping vegetables in the kitchen with the constant clatter of pots and pans, while he sat in the living room diligently doing his homework, waiting for her to call him for dinner.

“Brother, how did you think I did just now?” the voice from the kitchen boomed.

Lu Beiye answered perfunctorily, “It was fine.”

He did not really understand these things. He thought Xu Zhuoyang’s acting was good, but he could not say for sure if it was technically excellent. Fengying Entertainment was just a small company in his hands, and he did not focus his primary business on the entertainment industry.

Xu Zhuoyang hung his head in disappointment.

He knew where he was lacking. He felt his emotions had been too volatile, but if he restrained them, relying solely on his eyes to convey the feeling, it failed to meet his expectations. There were some things where performing more frantically or sadly did not necessarily mean the result was better. He had been practicing this all afternoon.

A rich, savory aroma wafted from the kitchen. He turned the heat down on the braised ribs and used the time to stir fry two side dishes. Once everything was ready, he expertly plated the food, placed it on the dining table, served rice for both of them, and carefully poured the soup. Lu Beiye did not have to lift a finger throughout the entire process.

Over the past five years, Lu Beiye had grown accustomed to this life of being catered to. Xu Zhuoyang took care of him down to the smallest detail, not only cooking and cleaning but also setting out his slippers, drawing his bathwater, organizing his belongings according to his preferences, and selecting his clothes for the next day.

Assistant Yan often thought that if Xu Zhuoyang stopped being an actor, he would make an excellent nanny. His level of attentiveness was so high that he feared his boss was being pampered into a state of total helplessness.

Lu Beiye was a man of many demands. He was incredibly picky about his clothing, his living space, and his food. He refused to eat scallions, ginger, or garlic, and disliked heavily seasoned meals. He only ate stir fried greens, stewed tofu, and steamed fish. Chicken meatballs could be fried, but chicken breast or legs were forbidden. Lu Beiye himself often did not know what he wanted; it depended entirely on his mood. Back at the old family manor, six or seven chefs struggled to satisfy him. Assistant Yan never imagined that Xu Zhuoyang, who had once never done a day of manual labor in his life, could tame this perpetually difficult young master Lu.