The Vicious Male Supporting Character Only Wants to Focus on His Career - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: I Can Make All My Own Decisions

The audition was scheduled for tomorrow morning.

Because of his status, Zhong Shengwan had received the script in advance. He was currently studying it carefully alongside the character biography he had written earlier, and he was quite welcoming of Tao Jian’s arrival.

Tao Jian’s acting skills were above average, and he could hold his own during a rehearsal.

After being dragged through two continuous scenes, Tao Jian picked up a glass to drink water. With a slight exert of force, he “accidentally” spilled a palm-sized patch of water onto his clothes.

Zhong Shengwan handed him the tissue box: “Wipe it.”

This was a habit from being an artist for many years—no matter how sudden the situation, he wouldn’t panic, nor would he reach out to touch someone else.

Lest things became impossible to explain later.

Tao Jian shook the water off his knit sweater and pressed his hand briefly over Zhong Shengwan’s hand, which was resting on his knee: “It’s fine. The bathroom is over there, right? I’ll go clean up.”

Hotel room layouts were mostly the same; he headed straight for it.

A rich second-generation heir with a family worth hundreds of billions—hooking even a pinky finger would be enough to last him a lifetime. Right now, the boy looked “milky” and well-behaved, the perfect time to make a move.

He could almost see the image of himself backed by capital, starring in one big production after another, treading over competing artists of the same generation.

Zhong Shengwan looked at the hand that had been patted, took a tissue to wipe it, got up, and opened the door.

In less than two minutes, Tao Jian came out.

The low-cut knit sweater had been replaced by a bath towel. With handsome features, a tall stature, and a well-maintained physique, he was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

To be a popular idol artist, this was his capital.

Looking at Zhong Shengwan, he felt a bit disappointed that the other’s expression didn’t waver. He smiled: “Young Master Zhong, that shirt can’t be worn once it’s wet, so I took the liberty… you don’t mind, do you?”

Zhong Shengwan: “I’m fine, I’m just afraid you might mind.” As he spoke, he tilted his chin toward the door: “It seems to have been blown open by the wind. What a coincidence.”

The door was wide open, leading directly to the hallway.

Due to the production preparations, several heavyweight figures from the crew lived on this floor—artists, directors, and producers.

In short, everyone knew Tao Jian.

Vague sounds of conversation could be heard in the corridor.

Tao Jian: “…” Clutching his bathrobe, he bolted back to the bathroom. He feverishly recalled that there had been no one at the door just now, so he probably hadn’t been seen.

Zhong Shengwan raised an eyebrow slightly and looked back down at his script.

With such good conditions in this life, he wanted to act until the day he died. Sleeping with a male artist before even debuting, or being slept with by one—that kind of scandal was absolutely unacceptable.

There was a knock on the door. Three times, with almost identical intervals.

Zhong Shengwan looked up. A man with an incomparably handsome face, a cold expression, an oppressive aura, and height—like a statue of a god devoid of passion or desire.

The visitor was He Yingnong.

At the same time, Tao Jian came out of the bathroom.

He Yingnong heard the movement and looked over. His gaze paused for a moment on the crooked low collar of Tao Jian’s knit sweater.

Tao Jian was most concerned about whether anyone was at the door; one look, and his soul nearly flew away in fright.

Zhong Shengwan blinked and introduced him to He Yingnong: “He’s just borrowing the bathroom.” Then he looked at Tao Jian: “Do you have anything else?”

This attitude was somewhat dismissive of Tao Jian. After all, they would be working together in the same crew for several months; he couldn’t make things too ugly.

But in a situation like just now, being cold served as a warning.

They were all adults. Tomorrow they would greet each other with smiles, and today’s incident would be buried.

Tao Jian said: “No, thank you.”

As he passed by He Yingnong, he caught a glimpse of the other’s wristwatch, and his heart mostly settled. With such wealth, he was like an ant in the other’s eyes; there was a high probability the man wouldn’t target him on purpose.

If it were a peer or someone else, that would be truly troublesome.

As for Zhong Shengwan, given those sophisticated and decisive methods, it was clear that even the youngest sons of wealthy families were not to be trifled with. He would never dare again.

Zhong Shengwan invited He Yingnong in, poured tea, and cleared the scripts off the table: “Did you come specifically to find me?”

He was wearing ice-blue satin loungewear; his lean waist was visible while he moved about.

He Yingnong looked at the youth’s excessively young face: “Are you an adult yet?”

Zhong Shengwan: “…Huh?”

What did that mean? This was a bit unprofessional, wasn’t it? As the big villain who could go head-to-head with the protagonist Chu Jinchen until the very end, he couldn’t even clear up this small detail?

Doing things like this makes one wonder if your “thigh” is worth clinging to.

He had typical apricot eyes—large and clear. When he was suspicious, they were incredibly vivid.

He Yingnong looked at the boy’s large, blinking eyes: “Serious business. If you aren’t an adult, can you make your own decisions?”

He’s still three months away from being an adult. What kind of decent person wears clothes that expose half their chest… and as the most pampered child of the Zhong family, is there no one to look after him in a place like this?

Zhong Shengwan: … A veteran cadre checking household registers—there’s really no need to be this good-looking. While complaining internally, his answer was quite formal: “I can make all the decisions regarding my affairs.”

He Yingnong got straight to the point: “You saved my life the other day. Why did you save me? Also, what kind of reward do you want?”

The car had been tampered with; it was the work of the people back at the old residence.

He had settled that account over the past two days; those people wouldn’t make another move for a while.

Here comes the “Medal of Life-Saving”! Zhong Shengwan suppressed his excitement: “If it were anyone else I happened to encounter, I would have saved them just the same.”

He Yingnong: Truth.

Zhong Shengwan: “As for a reward… I haven’t thought about it.”

He Yingnong: Lie.

Zhong Shengwan: “But if you insist on a reward, it’s not impossible. Debts of gratitude affect one’s sleep—I understand that. Be my friend, is that okay?”

Trading on his youth, he deliberately acted as if he were just following a whim.

He Yingnong: “The kind of friend who comes over at night in low-cut clothes to borrow a bathroom?”

Zhong Shengwan: “…”

The atmosphere was very awkward.

After a brief silence, Zhong Shengwan met the man’s gaze: “Is it okay?”

He was purely curious.

Curious about his favorite “paper character,” much like a fan asking an artist if they like eating apples or dragon fruit.

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