Perfect Divorce [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 1

Yuan Xingzhou had just finished his scenes. He was still wearing black leather gloves and a Republican-era military uniform with leather boots. Beneath the brim of his officer’s cap, his features looked cold and handsome—the kind of look that could make someone’s legs go weak.

His manager, Li Yu, pushed the door open and couldn’t help but freeze for a moment upon seeing him in this outfit.

Since the filming of Lost City began, this was the first time Li Yu had visited the set. The director had called him previously to praise Yuan Xingzhou, saying the boy had a great look, got into character quickly, and was exceptionally sharp at acting. Li Yu had assumed it was just professional courtesy, but he hadn’t expected Yuan Xingzhou’s transformation to be truly stunning.

It was no wonder he had shot to fame over the past two years.

“Stop being a narcissist,” Li Yu snapped back to reality and urged, “The program crew’s car will be here shortly. Go remove your makeup, quickly.”

Yuan Xingzhou had noticed him coming in long ago. Hearing this, he gave a couple of “ohs” and asked with some surprise, “Didn’t you say the live stream doesn’t start until 12:00?”

“Perhaps they were afraid of traffic and moved it up,” Li Yu said. “Prepare yourself; they’ll likely ask you about you and Ye Huai.”

Yuan Xingzhou stiffened. He put down his phone and faced the mirror to pull off his gloves. “I think I look pretty handsome in this hat. Why don’t you buy me a peaked cap later?”

“Why don’t you just ask for a tuxedo while you’re at it? A peaked cap…” Li Yu asked, “Has Ye Huai called you these past few days?”

Knowing Li Yu’s temper and seeing that he couldn’t deflect the question, Yuan Xingzhou let out a muffled “Mm” through his nose.

“Just talk about whatever,” Li Yu said, taking out his phone to reply to messages. “The program crew invited you specifically because the CP (Couple) topic is trending. Organize your thoughts; think about where to start the conversation later—whether it’s stuff from the past or more recent things, have a plan in mind. Stop repeating the same old stories; they’re practically becoming comedy sketches at this point…”

He spoke rapidly. By the time he finished sending a message and looked up, Yuan Xingzhou had already headed to the dressing room.

Li Yu raised an eyebrow, thinking: That same old trick again.

As a manager for Huayu Entertainment, Li Yu had three or four artists under him. Yuan Xingzhou was technically the most “worry-free” among them—he was career-oriented, didn’t mind hard work, and took every gig offered to him—but Li Yu simply didn’t like him. Personality played a huge part in that.

Yuan Xingzhou often had insignificant little requests, like buying a hat or changing shoes. He was clearly stubborn, yet his tone always carried a hint of trying to please, as if anyone who refused him was bullying him. Furthermore, when faced with something he didn’t want to deal with, he would simply walk away. Though he would eventually do as Li Yu ordered, that reaction was very off-putting.

Li Yu knew in his heart that Yuan Xingzhou’s personality was likely a result of his past experiences.

Yuan Xingzhou’s path to stardom had not been smooth. He had originally debuted through a talent show, winning the championship of a singing and dancing program at nineteen. He had the talent but lacked the luck; as soon as the show ended, he was caught in the crossfire of internal company strife and was left out in the cold for two years.

Two years later, his luck turned, and the company placed him in the then-popular trainee boy group, S.T. However, because he wasn’t close with the other members, he was ostracized and became the group’s famous “punching bag.”

Li Yu had seen S.T’s stage performances; Yuan Xingzhou was always the most inconspicuous one. It wasn’t until S.T disbanded and Yuan Xingzhou made a shock announcement that he had married his teammate, Ye Huai, that he suddenly gained traction—albeit the “black heat” kind, full of fans turning into haters and teammates mocking him.

That was probably the most famous Yuan Xingzhou had ever been. Everywhere you looked on the web, there were “black materials” (scandals) about him: he was called a “Copycat Chicken” for mimicking his teammates’ hobbies, a “Little Suck-up” to company higher-ups, a spy within the team, and a “foot-washing maid” for the other members. He was painted as someone gentle and kind in public but sinister and cunning in private—a villainous mastermind.

At that time, Li Yu felt that the lethality of internet attacks should not be underestimated. If an ordinary person went through those three ups and downs, it would be impressive enough if their psyche didn’t break. Someone like Yuan Xingzhou, who consistently endured in silence without saying a word, must be more resilient—and perhaps more weak-willed—than most.

He really didn’t like this kind of person. So, after a period of negotiation, he reached an agreement with another manager in the company.

Next month, Yuan Xingzhou would be handed over to that person.

Li Yu exhaled softly, pulled over a chair, and sat for a moment. Before long, he heard voices outside.

The crew for the show Surprise had indeed arrived early—thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Seeing that the director was among them, Li Yu quickly stood up to greet them.

“Yuan Xingzhou is removing his makeup,” Li Yu said with a smile. “Everyone, please wait in the lounge for a bit, have some water. He’ll be over in a moment.”

“No rush. I happened to have some business, so I came a bit early.” The director, surnamed Du, was slightly pudgy and bald. As he spoke, he leaned to one side, revealing the cameraman behind him.

Li Yu understood instantly: they were already filming.

“How has Xingzhou been lately?” Director Du asked. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Li Yu replied, “He’s been filming constantly. Since joining the cast, he hasn’t left the set. Every day is just reading the script and working out.”

Director Du: “He should relax a bit. Xingzhou works too hard.”

“His character has many action scenes…” Li Yu led the group into the makeup room to rest, arranging for staff to bring water. He then added, seemingly casually, “Ye Huai even mentioned yesterday that Xingzhou has a waist injury and shouldn’t overtrain.”

Surprise was a very popular live-streamed show where guests were all “trending” celebrities. The format was simple: netizens voted on the content of “mission cards,” and the celebrities had to complete them live. Naturally, the stars didn’t know what their mission was until the stream started.

Yuan Xingzhou had only become popular in the last two years. The reason he was selected was entirely due to the CP topic surrounding him and Ye Huai. Li Yu knew this well and skillfully steered the conversation there.

Director Du laughed. “This little couple… Ye Huai wasn’t like this before. Back in S.T, what did they call him…?”

Someone chimed in with a laugh: “The Cold Iceberg.”

“Right, my niece is a fan; she was obsessed,” Director Du shook his head with a smile. “Young people have such interesting nicknames.”

Back then, Ye Huai was neither the “Center” nor the Leader of S.T. He was extremely cold toward people and things. However, he was born with the face of a top-tier god. No matter where he stood, he naturally became the focus of the crowd. Therefore, from start to finish, his fan base and popularity were the absolute number one in the group.

Yuan Xingzhou and Ye Huai never had any interactions in front of the cameras, so their sudden marriage later left everyone’s jaws on the floor. But no one expected that while everyone was frantically attacking Yuan Xingzhou, the latter would find a blessing in disguise. A major director saw a parody GIF made by anti-fans and noticed that the young man was an unexpected fit for a supporting role in his script. With a wave of his hand, he had someone bring him in for an audition.

Major directors never cared about the drama within idol fandoms. Yuan Xingzhou’s appearance was a perfect match, and he was quite talented at acting. After that, he drifted into a career transition and filmed several dramas in a row.

Over the past few years, although his skill level fluctuated and his best roles were as the “Second Male Lead,” he couldn’t stop the fact that several of those dramas became massive hits. His popularity naturally soared.

When someone gets famous, trouble follows. The media grabbed his old “black materials” one by one to verify them.

Yuan Xingzhou had a good temper and explained them one by one. When asked about his marriage to Ye Huai, Yuan Xingzhou finally gave a direct response after three years of silence.

“The two of us… actually dated for a while… and then we got our certificate,” Yuan Xingzhou said that day, cornered by a crowd of reporters backstage at an awards ceremony, whispering in the corner. “He treats me very well.”

The reporters hadn’t expected him to suddenly drop such a scoop; they exploded like ignited firecrackers.

“Then when did you start dating?” “Can we ask who confessed first?” “Was there a proposal?” “Why has Ye Huai never mentioned it? Did your company know?”

Cornered by questions from all sides, Yuan Xingzhou looked a bit distressed. He looked around blankly, realizing he was surrounded by layers of strangers. He could only shrink back further, reminding the reporters to stay safe while answering them one by one.

“The relationship started on the first anniversary of the group’s debut, on Christmas Day.” “Ye Huai confessed first…” “There was a proposal, but no outsiders were there. We got our certificate right after the proposal.” “The company didn’t know. We weren’t thinking that much back then…” Yuan Xingzhou smiled. “Plus, the team was about to disband then, so we were both feeling very down.”

Curiosity is hard to satisfy. Once he answered some questions, more would come crashing down. Yuan Xingzhou soon realized it was unrealistic to answer every single one. Then, amidst the noisy voices, he heard a clear voice ask: “Then what does Ye Huai like about you?”

Yuan Xingzhou froze for a split second.

Although he and Ye Huai were in the same group, Ye Huai’s nickname was “God Ye.” Can a god love a mortal? Especially one who was ostracized and disliked by everyone like him.

It was indeed a question worth asking.

“He…” The surroundings gradually went quiet. Yuan Xingzhou felt like Cinderella; now that the Prince was away, he had to prove for himself that he once owned a glass slipper.

Yuan Xingzhou lowered his eyes slightly for a brief moment, then looked up again and smiled at everyone.

“He said a lot. He said he liked my personality, my hands, and that it was love at first sight…” Yuan Xingzhou said. “I don’t know which of his words are true. When he comes back from his studies, you should ask him for me.”

That answer was perfect and unexpected.

Who could have imagined the “Cold God” would take the initiative to confess? How did they even end up together?

The fans who were going to leave had already left, and those who were going to curse had finished long ago. After three years, the public’s feelings toward this shock CP were nothing but curiosity and a desire to pry.

“In last week’s poll for the entertainment industry’s ‘Sweetest CP,’ Yuan Xingzhou and Ye Huai’s ‘Huai-Zhou’ CP took second place, only one vote behind the ‘Daisy’ couple in first,” Director Du smiled. “Does Ye Huai know?”

“Xingzhou told him,” Li Yu said. “Ye Huai said it’s better to keep a low profile.”

While they were talking, they heard a knock at the door.

Yuan Xingzhou had already removed his makeup and changed into jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt.

His skin was very fair. Li Yu noticed he had cleverly brushed some blush onto his elbows and wrists.

“Hello, Director. Hello, cameramen,” Yuan Xingzhou greeted them, his expression appearing somewhat naive. “How are we recording this live stream?”

“It’s already started; you are in the live room right now,” Director Du said. “Go with the camera to do the mission. The mission card is in the car.”

Yuan Xingzhou followed the three cameramen into the program’s car with a look of dazed confusion.

When doing missions, managers and assistants aren’t allowed to follow. Although Li Yu didn’t like Yuan Xingzhou, he still had his professional standards. Once the cameras were away, he pulled Director Du aside. “Old Du, the kid got a bit injured during training recently; please look out for him.” Li Yu paused and asked, “Is the mission difficult?”

“Don’t worry.” Director Du glanced at the car and consoled him, “His is the easiest one.”

“Your mission is the easiest,” Cameraman A said, handing over the mission card, then told the driver, “Let’s go. We’re going to the airport now; the timing is just right.”

The car sped out and turned onto the highway.

Yuan Xingzhou peeked at himself through the phone screen. Seeing that his hairstyle was fine and the “Orgasm” blush lightly swept across his face looked great, he finally opened the mission card.

“Just because I caught an extra glimpse of you in the crowd, I could never forget your face again… Do you want to know if your lover can recognize you in seconds? Welcome to the challenge—The CP Chemistry Test!”

Yuan Xingzhou: “?!”

CP???

“People are starting to enter the live room now. The current number of online viewers is 34.5… ah, 50, uh, 800,000…” Cameraman B said. “Uh, it’s 2 million now…”

The network was lagging slightly, but the number of people in the live room was still exploding.

No matter how slow Yuan Xingzhou was, he finally guessed what was going on.

Ye Huai is coming back to China??

He looked up abruptly, his expression changing instantly.