Perfect Divorce [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 35

The two people acting as a “Sugar Daddy” and a “Canary” for the first time didn’t head straight home after all. Since Ye Huai wanted to see the scenery, the Sugar Daddy drove him in a circle around the city outskirts, admiring the half-barren roadside trees. When Ye Huai wanted coffee, the Sugar Daddy parked outside a mall and ordered delivery, asking the staff to bring it to the car. But once the coffee arrived, Ye Huai refused to drink it, leaning gloomily against the car door and staring outside as if life had lost its meaning.

“We really can’t go down there,” Yuan Xingzhou said. He didn’t know where Ye Huai had been hiding lately. He finished his own coffee and persuaded him, “I’m actually fine; I can occasionally disguise myself and wander around without being recognized. But you’re different. If I let you out, someone will be surreptitiously filming you instantly, believe it or not?”

“Can you stop being so dramatic?” Ye Huai said weakly. “It’s not like before. I’ve been gone for years; who still remembers me?”

“New fans!” Yuan Xingzhou handed over his phone. “Look for yourself.”

On the phone was a data blogger who tracked celebrity popularity, only capturing the top fifty and updating every Friday. The latest Weibo posts all featured Ye Huai’s name. The data chart clearly showed that since returning to the country, Ye Huai had leapt from being “untraceable” on the list straight to the top ranks.

Yuan Xingzhou had consistently ranked around eighteenth or nineteenth, and Ye Huai was now right next to him.

Ye Huai essentially had no new material—his endorsements hadn’t been officially announced, and the movie casting hadn’t been made public. Gaining this much heat based almost entirely on old Weibo posts and the previous variety show episode was terrifying.

“All roads lead to Rome,” Yuan Xingzhou remarked with envy as he saw Ye Huai dismissively push the phone away. “But you were born in Rome.”

“I’m that amazing? How come I didn’t know?” Ye Huai leaned against the car window, sizing him up. “Do you also admire me a little?”

Yuan Xingzhou nodded. “I do.”

Ye Huai asked, “Admire what? Admire me singing out of tune? Or admire my lack of physical coordination when dancing?”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Ye Huai’s gaze gradually grew solemn. “…What exactly is good about me?”

“Everything is good!” Yuan Xingzhou said. “Look at how incredible your ‘audience affinity’ is, and your face is so well-maintained. We’re about the same age, but you look like a young man in his early twenties no matter how you look at it. I’m not like that; if I don’t start taking care of myself, my eye bags are going to show.”

He spoke very sincerely. Ye Huai’s spontaneous discussion rate was very high; many people who didn’t even follow celebrities couldn’t help but discuss him, while treating Yuan Xingzhou and others nearby as invisible. As for looks, there was simply no comparison.

Ye Huai, however, got angry. “So in your eyes, I only have a face?”

Yuan Xingzhou: “Ah?”

“Ah what?” Ye Huai snapped. “Let’s go! No more driving around! Home!”

Though he said home, Ye Huai requested to stop at a supermarket entrance—and it was a different one across from the housing complex.

“Let’s just go to the supermarket near our place to buy things.” Yuan Xingzhou was still somewhat afraid of Ye Huai’s sasaeng fans. Those people were crazy. Although years had passed and those people should have graduated and married, he didn’t know if they were still blocking people everywhere.

“Not going!” Ye Huai countered. “How did it become ‘your’ supermarket? Does that place have a cent to do with you?”

“It doesn’t!” Knowing he didn’t like Zhu Yueming, Yuan Xingzhou immediately raised his hands. “…Not even a cent’s worth of connection.”

“As long as you know.” Ye Huai gave him a huffy look before putting on his sunglasses and mask and stepping out of the car gracefully. “Let’s go. The ‘Canary’ is going to please the ‘Sugar Daddy’ now…”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Fortunately, the supermarket here had few people. The two quickly bought ingredients, checked out, and went home. Ye Huai carried the things to the kitchen. Yuan Xingzhou wanted to help, but he was shooed out.

“Go play the game. Cook some dishes for me to sell for money,” Ye Huai pointed to the game console and warned, “Don’t come in here to cause trouble!”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…” He had only “stolen” a few bites twice.

However, Yuan Xingzhou really liked watching Ye Huai cook. Since Ye Huai wouldn’t let him in, he moved a stool to the doorway and chatted while farming Rupees for him.

Ye Huai arranged the ingredients and turned his head to ask, “What do you want to eat?”

Yuan Xingzhou was busy turning on the console and said casually, “I’ll eat whatever you give me.”

Ye Huai glanced at him. “Then should I ‘make some noodles’ (cook/below) for you?”

“Sure!” Yuan Xingzhou said expectantly. “Your ‘noodles’ must be different from others. That fried rice last time was amazing. By the way, how are your culinary skills so incredible?”

As he spoke, he looked down and saw that Ye Huai’s account only had 50 Rupees, and his clothing was only the initial set of “old man’s clothes.” So he equipped a weapon to go hunt monsters. “Did you study it specifically?”

Ye Huai looked at him sideways.

Yuan Xingzhou was oblivious, still swinging his big sword at a pig monster.

“Pretty much. My brother’s dream was to be a gourmet; he took courses at several culinary schools. I learned a bit when I went to his house.” Ye Huai was surprisingly patient, then added, “Otherwise, how would I have eaten all these years?”

Yuan Xingzhou was very surprised and looked up at him. “I thought you had a nanny abroad too. Your brother actually knows how to cook?”

Hearing his shock, Ye Huai couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you think I meant Ye Jiang? How could that be! I’m talking about my stepfather’s son.”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Yuan Xingzhou knew Ye Huai’s maternal family was in jewelry and that his father’s side was very successful in business, but he didn’t realize both of his parents had already remarried.

So Ye Huai went abroad to find his mother? Was saying he wouldn’t come back real or just a casual remark? Why did he come back to the entertainment circle now?

He was full of questions but felt it was a private family matter and inappropriate to pry, so he just gave an “oh.”

Ye Huai then asked, “What about your parents? Are you still in contact?”

“They have their own families too. I haven’t been in contact with my mom at all. I have my dad’s number, but I’m not close to him either. I just occasionally send him some money.” Yuan Xingzhou smiled. “He hasn’t asked me for any; he seems to be doing okay.”

Ye Huai was rubbing marinade on a chicken, preparing to roast it tomorrow. He froze at the words and turned his head to look at him.

Yuan Xingzhou’s background had been discussed by the group members before—it was nothing more than his parents going to the big city for work when he was a child, leaving him with his grandmother. He was a classic “left-behind child.”

Initially, his parents sent money back regularly. Because traveling back was too much trouble, they only saw the child once every two or three years. Later, the couple had another child outside and found it even more inconvenient to return; the money transfers became irregular.

By the time Yuan Xingzhou was in high school, his parents had cut off contact with the family. Fortunately, his grandmother lived to a ripe old age, surviving until he went to university.

Yuan Xingzhou had been sensible since he was a child, trying not to trouble the elderly. Compared to his peers, he was a bit sensitive and a bit clumsy.

Because all his school fees were provided by the old lady, he lived even more frugally. This continued until university. After the old lady passed away, Yuan Xingzhou felt his life path was aimless. Not long after, a national talent show began its auditions, and he signed up at the urging of a classmate.

His luck was good then, the judges loved his “type,” and the production crew didn’t do any “orphan editing” (malicious editing to make someone look bad/isolated), so Yuan Xingzhou’s path to becoming the champion was smooth.

“But my audience affinity seems poor,” Yuan Xingzhou said with a smile. “Speaking of which, there was someone that year who didn’t even make the finals but later joined our company anyway.”

Ye Huai raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“It’s the leader of the junior group, one of the ‘Top Five’ traffic stars now,” Yuan Xingzhou said. “But I have no intersection with him. Honestly, among that batch, I’m probably the ‘shame of the strong push’ (someone heavily promoted who failed to stay popular).”

“You’re doing pretty well now. You sing well, dance well, and even as a self-taught actor, your performance is great. The judges must be happy for you.” Ye Huai thought for a moment and asked, “About that record company, what have you decided?”

“I have an appointment to meet President Deng next week; I’m waiting for him to schedule a time,” Yuan Xingzhou said. “But I still feel like being a professional singer isn’t quite for me. I haven’t practiced my voice in years, so it’s not good enough. I want to see if I can release an album of my own.”

Ye Huai: “Lyrics and composition by yourself?”

“Mm,” Yuan Xingzhou said. “I’ll talk to them then. It just so happens that my current role is an idol who’s great at singing, so I plan to try writing songs for my character. If I can reach an agreement with them, I’ll have a place to write music.”

Ye Huai was very surprised. He thought about it and quickly understood. Director Lin’s dramas have no trouble selling; being able to use one’s own original music on TV would provide massive promotion without spending a single soldier.

Yuan Cheng’s new song has been out for a week now. Although his fans were very aggressive in pushing the song onto various platforms’ “New Song” and “Hot Song” charts—and a search for Yuan Cheng’s name shows banners claiming he’s “dominating the charts”—in reality, CRAZY still couldn’t escape the fate of being a “fan-exclusive high.” The spread of this supposedly “explosive” song among the general public was very limited.

After dinner, Ye Huai turned on the TV to wait for his final bit of footage. Yuan Xingzhou also intended to see what people were saying about Yuan Cheng’s “spliced” song.

To their surprise, however, the segment of Yuan Cheng singing was completely cut!

Yuan Xingzhou and Ye Huai exchanged a look, both somewhat surprised.

“Is it because the promotion window passed?” Yuan Xingzhou was stunned.

Originally, this segment should have aired last week to build hype for the new song, but the show didn’t reach this part last week.

Ye Huai shook his head. “Not necessarily. It might be because of copyright. Variety shows have a broad reach; if it airs and then someone uncovers a problem, it’s not worth the loss.”

Yuan Xingzhou: “But the new song is already out, right?”

“It’s so bad—who would listen to it besides fans?” Ye Huai said. “How could fans think their ‘Oppar’ would steal something? Even if they know, they just pretend not to.”

However, because of this, the situation became a bit eerie.

One second, Yuan Cheng said to the guests, “I don’t know who will team up with me next time. But I know my other half—it’s always been there.” He then held up a guitar. “It is music.”

And then the next minute, the guitar was in Yuan Xingzhou’s hands, and it was clearly not the same one.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“Your conversation with Yin Fei was also cut,” Yuan Xingzhou remarked. “This show really is… orphan editing.”

On Weibo, Yuan Cheng was already on the hot search. Viewers were remarking that Yuan Cheng seemed a bit fake—a perfectly good conversation turned melodramatic once it reached him, yet he had no performance to show for it. It was so awkward it made people’s toes curl.

However, these remarks were quickly attacked by “Cheng-fans.” They were busy controlling the comments, talking about how Yuan Cheng was framed by the crew, telling viewers not to be prejudiced against the handsome guy, while also making banners to denounce the crew for the “blind editing.”

On the TV, Yuan Xingzhou was bowing his head and playing the guitar. The gentle, clean notes seemed to dance on the tongues of fire, bringing the guests back to that summer… Everyone gazed at the campfire, lost in thought, while Ye Huai sat with his face turned, staring unblinkingly at Yuan Xingzhou.

After Yuan Xingzhou’s performance ended and the camera showed the reactions of several guests, the crowd’s shouting for Yuan Cheng to “do a song” was edited to be directed at Yuan Xingzhou. Consequently, Yuan Xingzhou’s improvised jazz fingerstyle was also aired.

Of course, the crew only aired the final ten seconds, which were undisputed. During this time, they gave several close-ups to Ye Huai, as if they were desperate to fill the screen with the tenderness in his eyes reflected by the campfire.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…” This was simply embarrassing.

Ye Huai’s face also turned slightly red, clearly a bit bashful.

However, neither of them expected the crew’s “shady operations” to continue—the editor used the big scissors to transplant words, moving Yin Fei’s and Ye Huai’s conversation to the end.

Ye Huai looked at the campfire and then back at Yuan Xingzhou. “We had too many appearances back then… I followed you very closely every time, okay?”

“Ahhhhhhh!” Yin Fei screamed, looking at Ye Huai with excitement. “Brother Huai, you were indeed looking at Zhou-zhou!”

Ye Huai nodded.

“I knew it! I said so!” Yin Fei stomped her feet and said to Yuan Xingzhou, “During every performance! Brother Huai… would turn back to look at you, but your positions were too crazy—you two were always back-to-back! Everyone said Brother Huai was looking at others…”

Following this was Yuan Xingzhou suddenly looking up with a shocked expression.

A line of text slowly appeared on the screen: “How much silent love has been submerged in time? Only the ‘Stars’ and you know…”

Then the camera panned to a sky full of stars…

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

On Weibo, Yuan Xingzhou’s solo hot search also went up.

Everyone knew he had acted in several dramas over the last two years and had almost forgotten he started as a singer. Thus, people began digging into his history, and some found his old talent show videos, starting to fall for the “all-rounder” young brother.

His arrangement and the improvised clip were also moved to Weibo by several marketing accounts, and the view count exploded.

Yuan Xingzhou hadn’t expected to gain a wave of fans…

Yuan Cheng’s fans were still denouncing the crew and controlling comments everywhere. Some viewers couldn’t take it anymore and brought up Yuan Xingzhou’s performance, wondering if Yuan Cheng had been “crushed” by him, which was why the crew didn’t air his part.

Yuan Xingzhou was being praised while Yuan Cheng was being cursed. The “Cheng-fans” immediately lost it, claiming the crew was rigged and that Yuan Xingzhou was relying on capital to step on others.

As Yuan Xingzhou watched people tearing into each other on Weibo while watching the show, he was dumbfounded. “The crew is too ‘dog’… they actually managed to cut your four sentences into one?”

Ye Huai also didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I bet the original footage has been shredded into QR codes…”

Fortunately, Yuan Xingzhou’s performance was preserved.

On Weibo, it was a total war, and various forums began a cycle of “whitewashing,” blacklisting each other, and “eating melons.”

Back and forth, Cheng-fans started posting multiple images, itemizing the old grievances within the group and how Yuan Xingzhou was “ungrateful” and didn’t acknowledge brotherly ties after getting famous.

Consequently, under Yuan Cheng’s hot search and Yuan Xingzhou’s hot search, there were “black material” packs posted by Cheng-fans: “Yuan Xingzhou is a calculating bitch, turning on his brother like a heartless man.”

The Cheng-fans were aggressive, but public opinion was another story. Someone carefully analyzed their old group interviews and clips where Yuan Cheng and others joked about Yuan Xingzhou on shows.

Threads soon went up on forums: “Let’s chat about the ‘Top Traffic’ who blacks his teammates in public, yet still leeches off them once they’re red.”

“Fans are so great? Look at the teammates your ‘Oppar’ bullied back then.”

“Is it too late to start liking Yuan Xingzhou? I have ‘Top Cancer’ (a feeling someone will be a top star); I have a premonition he’s going to be huge.”

“Yuan Xingzhou’s water army is over the limit; stop marketing on the forums, let’s see what the ‘real-name area’ says.”

…

The attitudes were completely different across different platforms. Before the situation here became clear, a third hot search climbed up from below.

The hot search was called: “Itemizing the ‘sugar’ that was stolen from my house over the years.” This was clearly a CP-oriented topic.

Yuan Xingzhou looked back and forth and was still quite angry at Yuan Cheng’s fans. He couldn’t help but want to use his alt account to argue with them. He had just switched accounts when Ye Huai suddenly pressed down on his phone.

Ye Huai: “Sugar Daddy…”

Yuan Xingzhou looked up in confusion.

Ye Huai said, “I want to hear you play the guitar.”

Yuan Xingzhou laughed. “Does a ‘Sugar Daddy’ have to provide services nowadays?”

“I can provide the services too,” Ye Huai said with mock solemnity. “But you might not be able to handle the services I provide. Want to try?”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

That clearly didn’t sound like a good thing, but there was no point in getting angry at trolls.

Yuan Xingzhou put down his phone and brought Ye Huai’s guitar over, sitting opposite him.

“What do you want to hear?” Yuan Xingzhou swept the strings and smiled. “The Sugar Daddy is very happy to serve you.”

Ye Huai said, “Crazy…”

Yuan Xingzhou looked at him expressionlessly.

“…in Love,” Ye Huai laughed, adding, “Crazy in Love. I want to hear you sing while playing.”

Yuan Xingzhou suddenly remembered that “erotic” video. Although he only watched the beginning, that uploader loved using this song as a “spicy” BGM.

“My singing while playing isn’t as good as my fingerstyle!” Yuan Xingzhou’s face turned red as he struggled. “Is fingerstyle okay?”

“No,” Ye Huai refused domineeringly.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

He hadn’t sung while playing in a long time. Initially, his throat was a bit tight, and Ye Huai immediately started picking on him.

“The voice is good, but there’s NO emotion…” Ye Huai mimicked Pan Yunhai’s tone, saying earnestly, “Channel that crazy, intoxicated feeling; it needs to have the scent of hormones, understand?”

“I don’t,” Yuan Xingzhou said expressionlessly. “I don’t have a sex life.”

“Oh…” Ye Huai dragged out the sound and glanced at him. “So is ‘Sugar Daddy’ implying something?”

Yuan Xingzhou: “??”

Ye Huai had a look of conflict. “It’s a bit too sudden. But if you can’t have the full meal, I can still give you some ‘interest’.”

Yuan Xingzhou was stunned as Ye Huai suddenly leaned in, loosely boxing him in over the guitar, looking down at him from above.

Ye Huai narrowed his eyes slightly and pursed his lips; his joking expression carried a hint of restraint.

Yuan Xingzhou looked up at him and swallowed hard. Ye Huai lowered his head, getting closer and closer, finally stopping just before their lips touched.

Their breaths were clearly audible. Yuan Xingzhou was startled, and many thoughts flashed through his mind.

Ye Huai pursed his lips, then finally opened his mouth and blew a puff of hot air at him.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

The two had no physical contact; Ye Huai’s behavior was like a child teasing someone. However, Yuan Xingzhou felt flustered and short of breath. Amidst his secret amusement, there was also a tiny, indiscernible sense of disappointment.

“Goodnight, Sugar Daddy.” Ye Huai pulled back, looking at Yuan Xingzhou, and snorted. “I’ve changed my mind. I want the interest in installments.”