Sheng Mingzhi’s cold dragged on for three days before he finally recovered.
Shen Ling used the excuse of celebrating his recovery to come over and gossip. Sitting beside him, she exclaimed with wide eyes, “Did your husband really stay with you for three days? He didn’t go to work at all?”
“Watch your wording,” Sheng Mingzhi corrected her coldly. “It wasn’t ‘staying with’ me; it was ‘strict supervision.'”
Thinking back on it, he felt like the last three days hadn’t been a life fit for a human. He was only allowed to drink porridge, had to sleep on a fixed schedule—early to rise and early to bed—and had essentially entered his “senior years” prematurely.
What young person goes to bed before ten o’clock nowadays?
Sheng Mingzhi complained, “My dad wasn’t even this annoying. He’s micromanaging me to death.”
Hearing about his ordeal, Shen Ling didn’t offer sympathy; instead, she gloated. After laughing so hard she leaned back and forth, she remembered something and said in surprise, “But honestly, your plastic marriage has made historic progress. At least he took care of you while you were sick. This is a first, right?”
In her memory, it was a first. Shen Ling had never heard of Lu Jiayan being kind enough to take care of anyone; in her mind, he had always been a sharp-tongued, quintessential capitalist.
It was just a casual remark, and Shen Ling expected the topic to pass quickly. However, to her surprise, Sheng Mingzhi suddenly responded.
His voice was very soft, and his gaze drifted toward the distance as if he were lost in a daze. He murmured, “No. There was one other time, a long time ago.”
________________________________________
That must have been ten years ago. Sheng Mingzhi was only twelve, in his first year of junior high.
He remembered it was raining heavily that day. The driver mistakenly thought Sheng Xu had picked him up and had clocked out early. Sheng Mingzhi was left alone at school. Unluckily, he had gotten soaked during PE class that morning and developed a low-grade fever by the afternoon.
As dusk fell, his classmates were all invited to the class monitor’s birthday party. The classroom was empty except for him, lying quietly on his desk. No one remembered he was still at school. Sheng Mingzhi felt as though he had been abandoned by the entire world.
To this day, he still remembered the first time he saw Lu Jiayan.
Sheng Xu couldn’t get through to his phone, so he asked a classmate to find him. Lu Jiayan had searched through the junior high building room by room until he found him in Class 1-2.
At that time, Lu Jiayan had just finished his college entrance exams. He carried that clean, refined air unique to high school students. He tapped on the door, his backpack slung over one shoulder. His bangs were a bit long then, brushing against his forehead. He wore a white shirt, his peach-blossom eyes slightly upturned, his features still holding the contours of a youth.
Lu Jiayan leaned lazily against the doorframe as if he had no bones and asked, “Is Sheng Xu your brother?”
Sheng Mingzhi lifted his head from the crook of his arm, tears from a recent bout of self-pity still clinging to the corners of his eyes.
The twilight in Yunjing was late in arriving. Lu Jiayan stood with his back to the fading light, the halo behind him casting a gentle outline. Looking down at him, he looked like a deity who had accidentally wandered into the mortal realm.
Later, facts proved otherwise. This man was no deity; he was a devil and the kind of shameless, silver-tongued capitalist bloodsucker whose words were more poisonous than crane-top red. He was simply blessed with a good face.
Sheng Mingzhi thought back to how naive he had been in junior high, actually thinking Lu Jiayan was a good person.
Good? Sure. He was good at not acting like a human being. He shook his head, tossing aside the old memories that had suddenly surfaced.
________________________________________
Sheng Mingzhi chatted with Shen Ling for a while longer. By the time he checked Weibo the next day, the heat from his viral livestream had already begun to die down.
As expected, his “flop” constitution was unshakable. Even when something went viral, the lack of follow-up marketing from his team meant the momentum was wasted.
However, this viral moment wasn’t entirely without benefits. On his second day back at work, Xiao Wang called to inform him that they had received a script, a red-carpet invitation, and a variety show offer.
The script followed Sheng Mingzhi’s usual on-screen image—a supporting role in a youth campus drama. Given his shaky acting skills, modern dramas were hard enough, let alone historical ones. The audition was set for the afternoon. The variety show was also a background role, not worth mentioning.
The real benefit of the viral moment was an invitation to the MOMO Magazine Fashion Gala. The date of the gala happened to be the 50th wedding anniversary of MO Magazine’s founder and “Fashion Godfather,” Xu Lihua, and his wife.
The theme for this MOMO gala was “Golden Wedding,” and the after-party was a spontaneously organized charity auction. Invited elites and artists would participate, donating their own items for fun.
The instructions and dress code were sent to Sheng Mingzhi’s email. After the audition that afternoon, Xiao Wang tirelessly contacted brands, making one call after another to ask if there were any suitable suits available.
Typically, the outfits worn by celebrities at galas are sponsored by brands or endorsement partners. The bigger the star, the more expensive the brand they can borrow. Some outfits could even cost millions, though very few celebrities in the industry were at that level. The average ones mostly wore off-season haute couture from high-end luxury brands. For someone at Sheng Mingzhi’s level—the “18th tier”—high-end luxury was out of the question; getting a sponsorship from an “affordable luxury” brand was considered a win.
After being rejected by five different brands, Xiao Wang’s face had collapsed into a look of despair. He turned around to see his “little ancestor” wasn’t worried about the gala at all, still holding his phone and aimlessly scrolling through Weibo.
Xiao Wang felt a sense of frustrated helplessness. “Look at the time! Aren’t you nervous at all? If we can’t borrow a brand outfit, we’re going to be outshone by that little b*tch Qiao Yan!”
Honestly, Sheng Mingzhi’s face, temperament, and physique were top-tier in the industry. Although his acting was poor, a red-carpet walk didn’t require acting. This was why Xiao Wang had high hopes for this appearance. If they could use the lingering heat from the livestream to go viral again through his visuals on the red carpet, they wouldn’t have to worry about resources for the next six months!
Sheng Mingzhi, who had never “borrowed” clothes in his life, retorted casually, “If we can’t borrow it, just buy it.”
“Buy it?” Xiao Wang nearly rolled his eyes. “Talk is cheap. You think your husband is the CEO of Shengjia? You think you can just buy outfits worth hundreds of thousands or millions on a whim?”
The moment he finished, Sheng Mingzhi’s body stiffened unnaturally for a second before he adjusted his posture.
Xiao Wang seemed to remember something and said pleadingly, “Seriously, is your husband really not interested in helping us with a bit of hype? This viral heat is a free gift! It’s Xu Lihua’s 50th anniversary. You walking the red carpet alone is fine, but walking with your husband would be huge! Qiao Yan is going with Huo Yuzhe; can you really afford to lose?”
“Impossible,” Sheng Mingzhi flatly refused. “He—”
He wanted to say that the only red-carpet Lu Jiayan would deign to walk was the 2025 Asia-Pacific Financial Summit. How could that workaholic waste time accompanying him on a “playing house” fashion gala red carpet?
He changed his tune mid-sentence: “He’s not photogenic.”
Xiao Wang’s gaze drifted over. “How so?”
Sheng Mingzhi said without blinking, “He’s too ugly.”
Xiao Wang: “…”
________________________________________
At the same time, the romance variety show Sheng Mingzhi had participated in earlier, Let Me Be Enchanted by You, officially aired.
Before the broadcast, Qiao Yan had planned to buy trending hashtags to preemptively smear Sheng Mingzhi. To his surprise, Sheng Mingzhi’s livestream video had already gone viral, showing off his marriage so much that Qiao Yan’s prepared internet trolls were useless.
Furthermore, buying the trending hashtags became awkward. When clicking into the tags for Qiao Yan, Huo Yuzhe, and Sheng Mingzhi, there was very little fan discussion. Instead, passersby were expressing indignation.
“What’s with this ‘male third party’ nonsense?”
“Who even are Qiao Yan and Huo Yuzhe? I’m here for the handsome boy who fell asleep on stream (speechless).”
“I took a look at this Huo Yuzhe guy. With a face like that, he dares to say someone is obsessed with him?”
“The discussion on this hashtag is so low, it must be paid for…”
“The little couple is so sweet, why would he need to be a third party?”
Even when Enchanted aired, many people tuned in specifically to see Sheng Mingzhi, which made Qiao Yan furious. Fortunately, his manager informed him that he would be attending the MOMO Fashion Gala next week. Qiao Yan’s mood improved slightly.
He asked casually, “Sheng Mingzhi is going too, right? Do you know which brand is sponsoring him?”
The manager named a moderately famous luxury brand. For Qiao Yan, it would be easy to borrow. The brand didn’t really suit him, but if it meant Sheng Mingzhi would have nothing to wear, Qiao Yan would force it.
He said, “Go talk to the brand. Say I want to wear that piece too.”
Between a B-list star and an 18th-tier flop, it was obvious who the brand would choose.
________________________________________
Sheng Mingzhi finished watching the latest episode of Enchanted on his way home. He first professionally shared the official post on Weibo, then reopened the video to take several high-quality screenshots of his own handsome face to post on his WeChat Moments.
Many “plastic” socialite friends immediately flooded the comments with excessive flattery, praising him to the high heavens. Sheng Mingzhi felt deeply satisfied. He looked at the screenshots from every angle and felt his condition in this episode was indeed excellent.
He then recalled Lu Jiayan’s boastful remark in his room that day: With such an outstanding husband, it’s hard to resist showing off, right?
Who was the “outstanding” one, exactly?
To prove his point, Sheng Mingzhi sent the perfect screenshots to Lu Jiayan.
Lu Jiayan had just finished a press conference. After methodically answering all the reporters’ questions, his phone vibrated. Seeing this, the executive beside him immediately took the microphone to field further questions.
Lu Jiayan unlocked his screen, and Sheng Mingzhi’s messages popped up one after another. Five photos in total, followed by a “spying” emoji.
As the executive was mid-speech, he caught a glimpse of his CEO out of the corner of his eye. Lu Jiayan was zooming in on Sheng Mingzhi’s variety show screenshots, looking for all the world like an obsessed fan.
The executive nearly dropped the microphone in shock.
After Lu Jiayan had zoomed in and examined every single screenshot, he calmly typed two words into the chat box: [It’s okay.]
He knew full well that for a narcissistic little “flower peacock” like Sheng Mingzhi, those two words would make him bristle instantly. Lu Jiayan hesitated for a second before hitting send—the last time he had hesitated for two seconds was when he was raising a billion dollars on the NASDAQ.
In the end, a man’s intuition won out. Lu Jiayan deleted “It’s okay” and recalled the comments he had seen in the livestream room. How did the fans praise him?
—Teacher Xiao Sheng is killing it with his face again.
—Teacher Xiao Sheng is an arsonist of hearts.
—Teacher Xiao Sheng’s beauty is a permanent collection in my heart.
Having a sudden epiphany, he replied: [Does beauty like Teacher Xiao Sheng’s truly exist in reality?]
Click. Send.
One second later, he received a reply. Sheng Mingzhi’s snarky tone was palpable:
[Sorry, I think I sent this to the wrong person.]
[Is this Lu Jiayan’s phone?]
Lu Jiayan: “…”