Perfect Divorce [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 4

“It was arranged by the company,” Yuan Xingzhou said weakly from the back seat.

Li Yu’s expression was grim, but with trouble looming, he had to first understand exactly what had happened.

In his view, the marriage contract between Yuan Xingzhou and Ye Huai was completely unnecessary and brought no benefits. For an idol, getting married was equivalent to cutting off one’s own future. When the news broke back then, the fans of both stars had indeed turned the world upside down.

Li Yu asked, “The company arranged the two of you specifically?”

“I don’t know; they approached me privately. I was quite surprised at the time too, suddenly receiving a notice from the company… It seemed,” Yuan Xingzhou hesitated for a moment, “it was to cover up some scandal.”

Li Yu had only joined Huayu Entertainment three years ago. But Yuan Xingzhou’s reminder brought a certain point to mind.

Back then, the marriage between Yuan Xingzhou and Ye Huai had been leaked by paparazzi.

That year had been a turbulent time for the entertainment industry. Since the start of the year, various bizarre scandals involving different stars had taken turns on the trending searches. It wasn’t until September that things quieted down briefly, only for a paparazzi account to claim they had “certain photos” of a boy group member. They declared that if the photos were released, they would cause an earthquake in the industry.

There weren’t many prominent boy groups back then. On Huayu’s side, there was only the recently disbanded STAR and their popular junior group, OWNER.

The paparazzi didn’t reveal what the photos actually depicted, leaving everyone to speculate wildly. For a time, the public was in an uproar. Fans were busy frantically organizing their idols’ schedules to clear their names. After several days of this chaos, the paparazzi account suddenly dumped photos of Ye Huai and Yuan Xingzhou together.

The next morning, Huayu Entertainment officially admitted the marriage news to the public.

“So, you weren’t the original targets of the leak?” Li Yu recalled some old rumors. It had been too long for him to remember clearly, but he vaguely recalled someone saying the paparazzi account had been paid off by PR.

Yuan Xingzhou shook his head and laughed at himself. “What was there to expose about me? Back then, the group had just disbanded. I didn’t have a good relationship with the other members, and I knew they wouldn’t help me out even if they had the chance. I was busy running around begging people for connections, trying to see if I could get onto a music show.”

Li Yu: “…”

“I actually had a lead. A producer for a music show was on vacation in Europe, so I flew over to intercept him,” Yuan Xingzhou continued. “The producer agreed, and before I could even celebrate, the company suddenly contacted me. They were in a huge rush… They promised compensation for this, and I was afraid of offending them, so I could only do as I was told.”

Li Yu hadn’t expected this, but on second thought, it wasn’t that strange.

Marriages in the entertainment industry were a mix of truth and lies—arranged by companies, self-planned to dodge trouble, or joint ventures to rake in endorsement money… There were many variations; Yuan Xingzhou’s case wasn’t truly rare. He just hadn’t expected Yuan Xingzhou to be so… career-minded.

Li Yu glanced at Yuan Xingzhou through the rearview mirror.

Yuan Xingzhou had a sort of Japanese-style pure beauty—porcelain-white skin, clear features, and very smooth facial lines. If one looked closely, there were almost no flaws; any detail could withstand the scrutiny of a lens. However, Li Yu had noticed a problem the first time he met him.

Yuan Xingzhou’s aura was too weak; he lacked a certain “edge” or aggression.

A person who was good-looking but had no backing and no temper truly could not—and would not—easily offend the company.

The company had picked a “soft persimmon” to squeeze. But he wondered if they realized that while the skin of this persimmon was soft, its core was hard. Over the years, he seemed to be enduring in silence, but was he not also utilizing the circumstances to plan for himself?

“You didn’t agree to those terms for nothing,” Li Yu asked. “The company gave you quite a few benefits, didn’t they?”

Yuan Xingzhou remained silent.

Li Yu gave a light snort. “Weakness is a very good protective color.”

His phone began ringing incessantly. Li Yu stopped talking to Yuan Xingzhou, switched on his Bluetooth, and began busywork.

The calls were constant, the traffic unending.

Yuan Xingzhou leaned back in his seat. His expression shifted several times, but in the end, he just gazed quietly out the window, as if Li Yu’s words had no effect on him at all.

The two soon arrived at the residence. As Yuan Xingzhou pushed the door open to get out, Li Yu spoke again: “I’ve requested two days of leave from the film crew for you. I’ll handle the online public opinion, but some things you have to solve yourself. For instance, go apologize to Ye Huai. Show appropriate weakness and ask him for some more time.”

Li Yu paused for a moment. Seeing that Yuan Xingzhou didn’t look back, he added—whether as praise or sarcasm—”You should be very good at that sort of thing.”

“Back then, the condition the company gave me was that I could choose my own manager,” Yuan Xingzhou said suddenly. “I know you don’t like me, but the scripts you choose for me are all good. I don’t like you either, but making things difficult for you today was not my intention.”

Li Yu froze, looking at him in surprise.

Yuan Xingzhou’s gaze fell on something in the distance, his voice trembling slightly: “I know my problems, but… people are different. You can’t judge me like that.”

Today’s events were a mess. The livestream had gone wrong, Ye Huai had returned, four million people had seen his “car crash” moment, and Yuan Cheng was part of the program too.

Yuan Xingzhou’s mind was in a whirl. After dropping those words, he turned and left. However, the moment he entered the elevator, he regretted it.

This apartment was allocated to him only after he became famous. It was in a high-end complex where many celebrities lived—one unit per elevator, providing great privacy and security. It had hotel-style butler service. He lived alone in a two-bedroom suite, with a large shopping mall downstairs and several high-end hotels and restaurants across the street.

Compared to the six-person collective dormitory he used to live in, this was a world of difference. The company always had a clear price tag: once he became a hit, they pulled him out of the mud and sent him to the clouds. If he crashed, he would certainly be kicked down from the clouds to make room for someone else.

At a time like this, his situation was precarious, and everything depended on his manager’s ability to turn the tide. What good did it do him to offend Li Yu?

After being “firm” for less than two minutes, Yuan Xingzhou began to regret it again. He swiped his card and entered the door in a daze, changed his shoes, took off his T-shirt, and prepared to shower shirtless. But the moment he pushed open the bathroom door, he let out a loud scream.

Inside the bathroom, Ye Huai’s expression was even more distorted than his.

“Get out!!” Ye Huai was carefully scrubbing his back when he turned to see a figure rushing in. He was scared half to death. He let out a roar and grabbed the showerhead as if to start a fight, only to realize the intruder was Yuan Xingzhou.

Ye Huai’s anger flared up instantly: “Are you crazy?! Scram!”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Yuan Xingzhou was stunned by the yelling. Subconsciously thinking he had walked into the wrong place, he turned beet-red, apologized, and backed out.

The bathroom door was kicked shut with a loud bang.

Yuan Xingzhou broke into a cold sweat, his mind snapping back into focus. But when he looked around, he was stunned again.

This room was indeed decorated by him.

Except there were several LV suitcases in the hallway, piled high and low.

The person in the bathroom was clearly still fuming, muttering who-knows-what. Yuan Xingzhou looked at the suitcases and the bathroom with a confused “black man question mark” face. Finally, after hesitating, he put his T-shirt back on, walked out, and looked up.

The door plate clearly read 2606.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Five minutes later, Ye Huai finally walked out wrapped in Yuan Xingzhou’s bathrobe. He was covered in the scent of Yuan Xingzhou’s body wash, and water dripped from his hair, carrying a faint scent of ginger. (Yuan Xingzhou was very careful about his image; having heard that male actors often suffer from receding hairlines due to wearing tight headpieces, he had bought a bottle of ginger shampoo in advance.)

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“Why haven’t you left yet?” Ye Huai stood still at the bathroom door, looking wary. “Talk to your manager if you have something to say; don’t even think about begging me.”

“I’m not here to beg you,” Yuan Xingzhou said helplessly. “…At least not right now.”

Ye Huai eyed him suspiciously.

“This is my… um, dormitory,” Yuan Xingzhou said briefly. “I live here.”

Ye Huai: “??”

He looked at Yuan Xingzhou as if he had seen a ghost, and then looked at the apartment’s decor. As soon as Wen Ting had left, he had gone to shower, so he hadn’t inspected the place closely. But looking at the living room, everything was orderly and clean as if it were brand new—how did it look like someone lived here?

“I’ve been on a film set recently and haven’t been back for half a month. There might be a misunderstanding here,” Yuan Xingzhou said. “Sea salt and cedar body wash, ginger salt shampoo, Truth skin lotion…”

Ye Huai: “…”

“I bought those during the year-end sale,” Yuan Xingzhou said. “Are you finding them comfortable to use?”

Ye Huai was speechless. But Wen Ting hadn’t said anything about arranging for him to live with someone else—what was going on?

Yuan Xingzhou wasn’t clear on what happened either. Just now, he had wanted to call Li Yu to ask, but having just lost his temper with the man, it was a bit awkward to call right back. After hesitating for a long time, he didn’t dial the number.

The two stood face to face.

Ye Huai’s gaze shifted around—initially confident, then gradually bewildered, and soon guilty.

Yuan Xingzhou didn’t intend to blame him. Logically or ethically, there was no reason for Ye Huai to steal his living space; something must have gone wrong somewhere.

Seeing that Ye Huai wasn’t moving, and being covered in sticky sweat and makeup that needed to be removed, Yuan Xingzhou asked tentatively: “How about you call your manager and ask?”

Ye Huai’s face was very sour, but he nodded.

Yuan Xingzhou breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a friendly smile. Walking to the bathroom door, he hesitated again. “Um…”

Ye Huai looked at him strangely. “What?”

Yuan Xingzhou pointed to his clothes. “I… need to take a shower.”

Ye Huai: “…”

“…Do you want me to arrange a livestream for you?” Ye Huai said bizarrely. “Why are you looking at me?”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Yuan Xingzhou wanted to ask for his bathrobe back, but Ye Huai’s suitcases were all in the hallway unopened. If he said it now, Ye Huai would lose face, and he couldn’t exactly take it off immediately—he couldn’t run around naked to find another one.

“Never mind,” Yuan Xingzhou said helplessly. “I was just saying.”

He turned and went to the bedroom, found a clean set of loungewear, entered the bathroom, and double-locked the door.

Ye Huai was feeling stifled. Anyone would be in a bad mood if a stranger walked in on them while they were showering. He had always been domineering, and right now he really wanted to give Yuan Xingzhou a beating, but since he was the one in the wrong, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

When Yuan Xingzhou turned the lock, Ye Huai was calling Wen Ting. Hearing the sound, he finally found an excuse to vent.

“Seriously! You’re even locking it?” Ye Huai found his outlet and began muttering relentlessly, “Who are you guarding against? You think I’d be interested in your naked body?”

The person in the bathroom seemed to freeze for a moment. Ye Huai was about to say more when he heard two clicks—the door was unlocked again.

Ye Huai: “…”