The news of the recasting was like a poisoned thorn driven deep into Lin Yang’s chest. It throbbed with a dull ache for days, impossible to ignore. That sense of powerlessness, the feeling that no matter how hard he tried, he could never break free from control threatened to drag him back into the swamp of despair from his past life.
He shut himself inside the apartment across the hall, drawing the curtains tight to block out the world. Sister So called several times, offering careful words of comfort and trying to suggest other opportunities, but he rejected them all, his heart grey and cold. He knew that as long as Li Chenzhou did not allow it, any work he accepted would be in vain.
Li Chenzhou continued to appear punctually every night. His excuses varied wildly, ranging from “borrowing a neighbor’s magazine” to “inquiring about the Wi-Fi signal.” One evening, he even arrived carrying a bag of high-end, imported ingredients that Lin Yang had no idea how to prepare, asking if he “knew how to cook” and if they should “eat together.”
Lin Yang met everything with the coldest silence and the briefest possible answers. He did not want to see him. Every time he looked at that stern, handsome face, it reminded him of how easily he was being toyed with.
A few days later, on a sunny afternoon, the feeling of suffocation from being cooped up finally overcame his despondency. Lin Yang decided to go out for a walk. Even if it was just to breathe the outside air and see the bustling crowds, he needed to prove to himself that he was still alive.
He wandered aimlessly and eventually found himself walking into a well-known chain cafe. The rich aroma of coffee beans and the soft music slightly soothed his frayed nerves. He ordered a plain Americano and found a corner seat by the window, staring blankly at the people passing by.
Perhaps… he should change his approach. Should he stop obsessing over acting and earning money immediately? Maybe he could find a job behind the scenes, or even leave this city? No matter how long Li Chenzhou’s reach was, he couldn’t possibly cover every single corner, could he?
The thought had barely surfaced before he suppressed it. Leave? Where could he go? He couldn’t rely on the Lin family; they were desperate for him to stay tethered to the giant tree that was the Li family. His meager savings weren’t even enough to buy a plane ticket to a distant city and support himself for a month.
Every path seemed blocked. He agitatedly stirred his coffee, which had long since gone cold, his lips pressed into a stubborn yet helpless line.
“Well, well. Who do we have here? Isn’t this our high-and-mighty Mrs. Li?”
A slick, frivolous voice laced with obvious malice suddenly rang out above him, snapping Lin Yang out of his thoughts. His body stiffened almost imperceptibly. That voice… he wouldn’t forget it until the day he died.
He slowly raised his head. Standing by his table was a young man wearing a gaudy shirt, his hair slicked back with grease, exuding the aura of a dissolute playboy. He was looking Lin Yang up and down with an undisguised, uncomfortable gaze, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.
Zhou Shihong.
In his past life, this was the scion of a wealthy family who had frequently used the excuse of being drunk at parties to speak to him with lewd language and get handsy. He was one of those who eventually participated in that final “hunt.” His family’s company survived on the scraps dropped from the Li Group’s table, yet he always thought of himself as someone important.
“Why are you sitting here alone drinking bitter coffee?” Zhou Shihong sat down in the chair opposite Lin Yang without an invitation. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, the malice in his tone becoming even more pronounced. “Tsk, looks like you’re in a bad mood? Well, I suppose that’s expected. So what if you managed to climb high? A man like President Li, how could he ever take you seriously? You’re just a toy to him. Once the novelty wears off, I bet you’ll be living like a widow, won’t you?”
His words were like a snake’s tongue, hissing venom, precisely striking Lin Yang’s most painful spot. Lin Yang’s face turned pale instantly, and his fingertips went cold. The revolting memories of his past life overlapped with the disgusting face in front of him, making his stomach churn. He wanted to stand up and leave immediately, but his legs felt as heavy as lead.
Zhou Shihong’s certain, degrading look—treating him like a piece of cheap merchandise—filled him with unbearable humiliation and rage.
“Mr. Zhou,” Lin Yang took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady, though a slight tremor betrayed his emotions. “I am not familiar with you. Please leave.”
“Not familiar?” Zhou Shihong acted as if he had heard a joke, raising his voice so that customers at nearby tables looked over curiously. “At the last gala, didn’t we have a very ‘deep’ conversation? What, you climb into a high position and suddenly don’t recognize people? Mrs. Li—oh, no, Lin Yang—isn’t your ego getting a bit too big?”
He deliberately pronounced “Mrs. Li” with an ambiguous, contemptuous tone, as if it were some shameful title. The whispers around them grew louder. Those gazes felt like needles pricking Lin Yang, leaving him with nowhere to hide. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, using the pain to maintain his composure.
“Please show some respect!” Lin Yang’s voice finally carried a sharp edge, but his naturally soft tone lacked authority in such a confrontation.
“Respect?” Zhou Shihong sneered, his eyes lingering even more boldly on Lin Yang’s face and neck. “Why does a little star who used his face to get to the top need respect? Don’t be ungrateful when I’m being nice. President Li doesn’t care about you anymore, right? How about this: just follow me instead. While I can’t compare to the Li family, I guarantee it’ll be better than staying in an empty room alone. What do you say?”
As he spoke, he actually reached out, intending to touch Lin Yang’s hand on the table!
Lin Yang jerked his hand back, a violent surge of nausea hitting him, making him feel as though he might vomit on the spot. Immense fear and anger overwhelmed him; the shadows of his past life wrapped around him like a cold tide. He stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor with a piercing screech.
“Get lost!”
His voice cracked from the extreme emotion, and his eyes uncontrollably rimmed with red. Zhou Shihong was taken aback by the intense reaction, but a flash of humiliated rage quickly crossed his face. He stood up as well, taking a step closer. “Who are you pretending to be? You think you—”
His words cut off mid-sentence.
As if an invisible hand had suddenly seized his throat, the arrogant expression on Zhou Shihong’s face froze. It then faded with a visible speed, turning into terror and pallor. His eyes widened and his pupils contracted as if he were seeing something truly horrific, and his lips began to tremble uncontrollably.
The faint murmurs in the cafe also vanished eerily, falling into a dead silence. Lin Yang froze, not understanding what was happening. Following Zhou Shihong’s terrified gaze, he turned his head blankly.
Then, he froze as well. At the entrance of the cafe, a figure had appeared at some unknown moment.
Li Chenzhou stood there.
He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal-black suit, his posture as upright as a pine tree, radiating an icy aura that warned others not to approach. He seemed to have just come from a formal event; his tie was knotted meticulously, and his handsome face remained expressionless. Only his deep, dark eyes looked toward them with a calm indifference.
He neither spoke nor moved, simply standing still. The sunlight filtering through the glass doors fell upon him, yet it seemed frozen by the chill he exuded. The temperature of the entire cafe appeared to drop several degrees the moment he appeared.
When had he arrived? How much had he heard?
Lin Yang’s mind went blank, but his heart hammered uncontrollably against his ribs. A mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and an indescribable emotion swept over him.
Zhou Shihong’s reaction was far more visceral.
He looked as though he had been nailed to the spot. Cold sweat instantly soaked through the back of his gaudy shirt, his face turned a terrifying shade of white, and his calves visibly trembled. He hung his mouth open, attempting to squeeze out a fawning smile that looked more piteous than crying.
“Li… President Li…” his voice was dry and raspy, thick with terror. “You… why are you here? We… we were just… it was a chance encounter. Just a joke, just a joke…”
Li Chenzhou’s gaze finally shifted. It moved slowly from Lin Yang’s pale face to Zhou Shihong’s pathetic, soul-shattered state. His eyes remained devoid of warmth as he gave Zhou Shihong an extremely flat, sweeping glance.
It was just one look.
Zhou Shihong reacted as if he had been lashed by an invisible whip. He shuddered violently, the rest of his words dying in his throat, leaving only the chattering of his teeth.
Only then did Li Chenzhou step forward, walking at a leisurely pace. His gait was steady, the crisp and rhythmic sound of his leather shoes on the floor echoing like a countdown in Zhou Shihong’s heart. He didn’t look at Zhou Shihong; he walked straight to Lin Yang’s side and came to a halt.
Standing so close, Lin Yang could smell the faint, cold woody scent on him and feel the invisible yet oppressive aura he radiated. Li Chenzhou still didn’t speak or look at Lin Yang. He simply returned his gaze to Zhou Shihong and tilted his head slightly, as if waiting for him to continue.
How could Zhou Shihong dare to say another word?
Drenched in cold sweat, he wished he could dig a hole and crawl into it or simply faint. He swallowed hard, his lips trembling. “So… Sorry, President Li! I… I have a foul mouth! I was talking nonsense! I’ll get out of here right now! Right now!”
He was incoherent, nearly scrambling on all fours as he backed away. He stumbled and almost fell, but he didn’t care about his image. He rushed out of the cafe in a disheveled panic, not daring to look back once.
The suffocating farce had come to an abrupt, frantic end simply because Li Chenzhou had appeared, without him even uttering a single word.
The cafe remained deathly silent. Every customer kept their head down, pretending to focus intently on the cups in front of them, not daring to steal even a glance in their direction.
Lin Yang stood rooted to the spot, his body still stiff. He could feel the warmth of the man beside him and the heavy pressure of his formidable presence. His heart was a mess, with countless questions swirling in his mind.
Why was he here? Was it a coincidence? Or had he been following him all along? Why did he step in? Was it to protect the dignity of the “Mrs. Li” title, or something else?
Li Chenzhou finally turned his head slowly, his gaze falling on Lin Yang’s pale face and his slightly reddened eyes. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly—so quickly that Lin Yang thought it was an illusion.
“Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was deep and steady, devoid of emotion, as if he had just swatted away a buzzing fly.
Lin Yang snapped back to his senses and instinctively took half a step back, distancing himself. A complex surge of emotion hit him: a slight relaxation after being rescued, but more so the humiliation of having such an embarrassing scene witnessed, and the feeling of being under his omnipresent control.
“I’m fine.” Lin Yang lowered his eyelashes, his voice dry and laced with clear detachment. “Thank you, President Li.”
He intentionally used the formal title to draw a line between them.
Li Chenzhou watched his evasive posture and heard the cold tone; his eyes seemed to darken slightly. He didn’t say anything else, but his gaze swept over the cup of cold, untouched coffee on the table.
“Let’s go,” he said faintly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “The car is outside.”
Lin Yang didn’t want to go with him. He wanted to be alone. But he also knew that in front of Li Chenzhou, his refusal meant nothing. The lingering, subtle gazes from the people around him also made him feel as though he were sitting on a bed of needles.
He silently picked up his old canvas bag and, with his head down, took the lead toward the exit. Li Chenzhou followed half a step behind him, like a silent and icy guardian deity, shielding him from all curious eyes.
The black sedan slid silently to the curb and stopped. Cheng Wei stepped out from the driver’s seat and respectfully opened the rear door. Lin Yang bent over and sat inside, leaning as far as possible toward the opposite window. Li Chenzhou sat in after him and closed the door.
The interior was spacious, yet the cold scent of his presence instantly filled every corner. The car moved smoothly into the flow of traffic.
They drove in silence. An oppressive quiet spread through the cabin. Lin Yang kept his head turned toward the window, watching the streetscape flash by, his mind in turmoil. Zhou Shihong’s disgusting face, the strange looks from the bystanders, and the icy pressure of Li Chenzhou’s sudden appearance intertwined, leaving him feeling incredibly exhausted and lost.
It wasn’t until the car entered the underground garage and came to a stop that Lin Yang immediately reached for the door handle, wanting to escape the suffocating space.
“Lin Yang.”
Li Chenzhou’s voice suddenly rang out, calling his name in a low tone. Lin Yang froze, his body stiff, and didn’t turn around. There was a slight movement behind him; Li Chenzhou seemed to have shifted his position. He could feel the other man’s gaze on the back of his neck.
After a brief silence, Li Chenzhou spoke again. His voice still lacked emotional fluctuation, yet it seemed to carry a trace of something nearly undetectable.
“That kind of person,” he paused, as if choosing his words carefully, “is not worth wasting your emotions on.”
Lin Yang was stunned, almost doubting his ears. Was he… comforting him?
Before he could discern how much sincerity was in those words, Li Chenzhou had already pushed open the door and stepped out. He left Lin Yang sitting alone in the car, facing the empty seat, a feeling of absurdity and confusion rising in his heart.
What kind of person was Li Chenzhou, really?
The one who ruthlessly crushed his hopes was him; the one who appeared like a god to rescue him when he was being insulted was him; and the one who just spoke words that bordered on comfort was also him.
He understood the man less and less.