Could a single late-night snack really settle this?
Wang Wei was steaming, but when it came to Lu Zhihang he didn’t know how to argue — in the end he could only grit his teeth and play the hired muscle.
“Make sure you mention my concert, alright? Otherwise these wolves won’t leave,” Lu Zhihang said from the doorway as Wang Wei hauled the last box down. He waved with a smile.
Wang Wei only replied with a heavy breath.
“Oh, and keep that notebook safe — it’s for my wife. If you hand it to the wrong person, I’ll tell her you pretended to be my sister to see Lin Wan.”
This time Wang Wei didn’t even bother to pant. But Lu Zhihang heard a loud crash in the stairwell right after he finished speaking.
He chuckled and went back to the dining table to eat his dinner.
He’d actually wanted to go along and see what happened — but he figured his presence wouldn’t help and might stir things up, so he stayed put.
…
Lin Wan didn’t expect anyone to come back to the set at this hour, let alone in a convoy. Five or six cars drew up and stopped around the site, giving the place the feeling of an encirclement. Her stomach knotted.
She worried it might be the police. If the cops showed up, she had no idea what she’d do.
Thankfully, the people who climbed out weren’t officers but a group of black-suited bodyguards. They formed a ring around the crowd and waited for someone.
She noticed the front car — no one ever left it.
She wasn’t the only one paying attention. Ye Zi grabbed her hand, bright with hope. “Lin Wan, maybe Lu Zhihang felt sorry for us waiting and came back to check on us?”
Lin Wan rolled her eyes. Who ever saw a celebrity leave and then come back like that?
Ye Zi was sensible enough to know it was unlikely, but she still stared at the car door without blinking.
When the door finally opened, it wasn’t Lu Zhihang who stepped out — it was Wang Wei, his manager. Of course he’d been sent by Lu.
The crowd perked up when the bodyguards popped trunks and hauled out three huge boxes full of little goodies.
Fanatic faces around her greedily lit up, as if they wanted to claim the boxes for themselves. Lin Wan sighed; she’d probably have to watch a small battle unfold. Fortunately, she wasn’t a fan of Lu Zhihang and didn’t have to worry about that.
She drifted to the back of the group and listened as Wang Wei began to speak. He explained — or at least that was the gist — that Lu Zhihang had heard of the fans waiting and felt bad, so he’d prepared these things to calm them down. People would line up to take one item each.
To make the fans even happier, Wang Wei announced Lu Zhihang’s next schedule: a solo concert. Tickets would go on sale in two weeks; the tour would run for two months and then end at a grand theater in S City. The day before the tour opened there would be a full day of signing and photo ops.
The crowd went wild. Who would refuse that?
Once they’d heard the news, the gift distribution began. Every fan’s eyes shone as they chose their item.
Lin Wan watched from a short distance, surprised by how much pull Lu Zhihang had. Because of her family she’d always distrusted the entertainment world — it had always seemed sleazy and unclean to her — and she’d never really paid attention. What she knew of Lu came mostly from Ye Zi’s chatter and her own imagination.
She’d never thought a star would be so attentive to his fans, or that one could be almost completely unblemished in public.
No wonder so many people liked him, she thought quietly.
A gray notebook was handed to her. Startled, she looked up at the outstretched hand and the man holding it.
Wang Wei.
Her pupils tightened. She glanced around; nobody was watching this corner — everyone was focused on the gifts.
“Take it,” Wang Wei said awkwardly. “You’ve been standing here a while.”
Lin Wan didn’t speak or reach for it. She stared at him. For a while she’d felt something familiar about the manager who always shadowed Lu Zhihang, but from a distance she hadn’t put it together.
Now that he stood by her, she could finally place him.
This was Xiaoxiao Muyu.
Wang Wei recognized her too — of course he did. Lu Zhihang had specifically asked him to meet this girl. Even a single glance was enough to imprint her in his head.
Perfect. Now Lu Zhihang had the nerve to dump this awkward job on him. If Lin Wan slapped him, a meal wouldn’t be nearly enough compensation.
“Ha.” Lin Wan’s scoff was cool and sharp. She crossed her arms and refused the notebook. “Well, I didn’t expect Lu Zhihang’s manager to be… Xiaoxiao Muyu.”
Wang Wei: …
There was nothing “expected” about it. They didn’t even know each other. He wasn’t Xiaoxiao Muyu.
“You’re getting good treatment,” Lin Wan continued without hesitation, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “No wonder you’re so lavish in that game.”
Wang Wei’s face was blank, but inside he was muttering a string of curses at Lu Zhihang. He wanted to rip the plan to shreds and tell Lin Wan the truth — that his so-called “treatment” wasn’t real, that if he splurged in the game it was at great personal cost — but none of that came out.
Hearing no answer, Lin Wan’s anger flared. “That day — why didn’t you come?” she demanded, her face hard. “You promised the match. Why didn’t you show up?”
Wang Wei blinked in genuine confusion. “What?” he said, utterly lost. He had no idea what day she was talking about.
“You agreed to duel me. You said you’d come,” Lin Wan pushed forward, forcing the question.
The breath went out of Wang Wei. He took two awkward steps back, his expression painfully embarrassed.