The secretary was quite surprised upon receiving the order.
After all, the name “Wen Ze” had been trending intensely lately, though certainly not for positive reasons.
Recalling the face she had seen in the entertainment gossip columns, it was indeed beautiful and docile—the type that CEOs often tended to favor.
The secretary couldn’t help but ponder: Could the boss actually have taken a liking to him?
Although their boss was a golden bachelor and a workaholic who usually despised baseless gossip, the accusations had been confirmed by the primary party involved. The boss couldn’t possibly be that blind, could he?
Gu Chao looked at his secretary, who was standing there in a daze, and frowned. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir.”
The secretary snapped back to reality and hurriedly shook her head.
“Then you may head out.”
Gu Chao lowered his head once again, his hands never pausing in their work.
He had fallen into an inexplicable, deep slumber a few days prior, and his workload had piled up; he truly couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Even if he did have the spare time, he wouldn’t have paid any mind to the minor musings of a secretary.
The secretary retreated, still wondering if there was something wrong with her boss lately.
He hadn’t been to the office for a few days, and just when she thought he had turned over a new leaf, not only had he inexplicably started dyeing his hair, but now he was taking an interest in keeping a young celebrity as a kept man?
However, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The boss had been single since birth; having reached the age of 28 without ever having a partner, his father and mother were nearly driven to desperation. They had even put the word out that they didn’t care about gender, background, or any potential trouble as long as a daughter-in-law arrived, it would suffice.
Looking at it now, there finally seemed to be some hope.
Just as the secretary was deep in thought, a call came through.
The moment she saw the caller ID, the secretary was surprised. “Young Master Gu?”
Gu Chen’s lively, cheerful voice came through. “Hello, Sister Jiang!”
This was Gu Chao’s younger brother, Gu Chen, four years his junior.
However, his personality was somewhat flighty. Since Gu Chao had already been groomed as the heir, this “Young Master Gu” had requested an entertainment company of his own to tinker with, as he happened to enjoy being around handsome men and beautiful women.
The two brothers had grown up together and were very close. Gu Chao had neither mistreated nor deliberately suppressed his younger brother; he had handed over the best entertainment company under his umbrella, Xinghe, which was now one of the three giants in the entertainment industry.
Zhou Zichen was an artist signed to Xinghe.
Generally speaking, if Gu Chen had an issue, he should have called Gu Chao’s private line directly. Why had he called the secretary’s office this time?
Secretary Jiang asked helplessly, “Did you cause trouble again, Young Master Gu?”
Gu Chen sounded disgruntled. “Sister Jiang, in your eyes, is causing trouble all I’m good for?”
“But Young Master Gu, if you haven’t caused trouble, why don’t you dare to call President Gu directly?”
Gu Chen fell silent.
She knew it!
Secretary Jiang sighed and said, “If you have something to say, Young Master Gu, just spit it out. I’ll do my best to relay the request for you.”
She was busy, too!
The CEO was a workaholic; how could his secretary have an easy life? Her schedule was fully booked every single day!
If not for the high salary, she would have resigned long ago!
Gu Chen dithered for a long while before saying, “You know that reality dating show, right? The one called ‘You, The Heartbeat’.”
The secretary was confused. “I do.”
How could anyone not know about such a national-level variety show? Her own idol couple had actually formed on that very program.
Gu Chen’s voice grew lower, filled with clear guilt. “The new season’s guest list isn’t complete yet, and they asked me to help find someone. I was drunk at the time and, in a moment of heat, I agreed to help. But the guests on this show can’t just be any random person, and the company doesn’t have any suitable candidates left…”
A thunderous thought flashed through the secretary’s mind: Young Master Gu, you don’t mean you’re trying to make President Gu fill the spot yourself, do you?!
Gu Chen remained silent.
That was, in fact, exactly what he was thinking.
Since his eldest brother had been single his whole life and his sexual orientation was unclear, it would be a good thing if he could figure it out through this show. If he happened to find a partner, even better it would resolve a major worry for their parents.
“But President Gu’s schedule…” The secretary flipped through the packed list on her desk, her face filled with disbelief. “Young Master Gu, you are being foolish!”
Young Master Gu would surely be on the receiving end of President Gu’s “loving education” when he returned.
“Sister Jiang, dear Sister Jiang, please, I beg you to help me.” Gu Chen pleaded pitifully. “Think about it: if my big brother can find a partner, it’s good for you too, right? Once he has a boss-lady, he’ll definitely have to set aside time for dating, and you won’t have to be so busy anymore.”
There was some crooked logic to this, and for a moment, the secretary couldn’t help but feel he had a point.
However, the CEO’s workaholic nature was fixed and unshakeable.
Therefore, the secretary remained unshakeable as well.
Gu Chen was rejected.
But he wouldn’t give up.
Although he truly didn’t dare to call his older brother to discuss this, he could talk to the director and have him add his brother to the list directly.
His big brother was such a professional person who hated delaying things; even if he were furious, he would definitely show up!
The secretary, unaware of the outrageous and reckless thing Young Master Gu had done, assumed she had talked him out of it when he didn’t call back. She cast the matter to the back of her mind and hurriedly prepared the materials for the next meeting.
Wen Ze also quickly dug up Gu Chao’s profile.
It wasn’t difficult; he simply Baidu-ed it, and there were a full three or four pages of results.
Male, 28 years old, current Chairman of the Gu Group, single, 1.92 meters tall, weight… birthday… graduated from University… awards received…
Massive amounts of text flashed through Wen Ze’s eyes, the screen blurring to the point where it almost felt like it was stuttering.
Yet, Wen Ze still could not find the information he was looking for.
So, was it just wishful thinking after all?
Wen Ze was filled with disappointment.
Time passed quickly, and filming for ‘You, The Heartbeat’ began.
Zong Du had contacted Wen Ze quite late in the process.
Wen Ze didn’t have much of a reputation, so he didn’t need to shoot promotional clips; he just had a single photo taken to inform everyone of his participation.
The show followed its usual format of “live stream + edited cuts.” Once the live segments were completed, the highlights were edited and uploaded to the internet.
People once joked that this broadcasting style was just like the show’s official social media account—acting like a obsessive fan.
Though it was a tease, the reality wasn’t far off.
The call time was 8:30 AM.
For modern young people, this was a relatively early time, but for actors, it was acceptable.
Wen Ze had been feeling irritable lately and didn’t want to get into any catfights.
To keep a low profile, he arrived neither first nor last; however, even so, he still drew a massive amount of attention.
Most of it from Zhou Zichen’s fans.
The moment the live stream camera focused on him, a barrage of abuse swarmed the screen:
【I didn’t believe it when I saw the trailer, but he actually dared to come?】
【Trash Wen Ze, never ending his pathetic attempts at clout chasing, are we?】
【He’s the bottom-tier artist on the entire show, and yet he arrives this late, making his seniors wait. Where does he get the nerve?】
【Didn’t he post that arrogant Weibo saying he was quitting the entertainment industry? Why is he still alive and kicking?】
【Laughing to death. Without Best Actor Zhou, who would even know who he is? He really thinks he’s something, doesn’t he?】
【Wen Ze, get out of the entertainment industry!】
【…】
For a time, the traffic in Wen Ze’s live stream room was shockingly high.
In contrast to the audience, the expressions of the other guests were quite complicated.
As industry insiders, they always knew a thing or two about the behind-the-scenes drama.
However, while they felt sympathy internally, none of them were going to defend Wen Ze on camera.
Wen Ze kept his head bowed, wearing a high-collared shirt and a hat, his voice as quiet as a mosquito’s buzz: “Hello, seniors.”
This entire look was captured by the camera, naturally sparking another wave of insults:
【What is he pretending to be? Covering himself up so tightly, does anyone even recognize him?】
【My god, he sounds so unwilling to even greet his seniors.】
【Look at that expression, is he a total hypocrite? If I didn’t know better, I’d think the seniors were bullying him.】
【With that volume, if I couldn’t see his mouth moving, I’d think he wasn’t speaking at all. My dog barks louder than that!】
【Don’t compare Wen Ze to a dog; it’s an insult to the dog.】
【…】
Even though the most extreme language was filtered out, the vitriol remained constant, and any rare normal comments were drowned out by the abuse.
That was the nature of stereotypes: if you perceive someone as bad, then everything they do is twisted to justify that perception.
This was the power of the internet and public opinion.
Wen Ze, of course, knew what the outcome of doing this would be, this was exactly what he wanted.
Shen Ruan squeezed his way in, looking at Wen Ze with eyes full of malice and sarcasm.
Look at that. You wouldn’t give me the spot when I asked, and yet here I am anyway.
What’s the point of clinging to this spot? Are you addicted to being cursed at?
Shen Ruan’s gaze was inevitably captured by the live stream, and the contrast between Wen Ze’s timid, head-bowed demeanor and his own arrogant posture was stark.
Even if Wen Ze’s reputation had always been poor, such a look didn’t exactly make people feel comfortable.
Gradually, voices of dissatisfaction began to appear in his live stream:
【What is Shen Ruan doing? Wen Ze hasn’t done anything to him; why is he looking at him like that?】
【He looks exactly like a small-minded man basking in his own success.】
【That look in his eyes is way too malicious.】
Shen Ruan was a fairly popular young actor, so his fans immediately retorted:
【My idol hasn’t done anything wrong! What’s wrong with how he looks at people?】
【Seeing something like Wen Ze is just an eyesore for him!】
【Our idol just hates evil.】
Shen Ruan was unaware of the stir in the comments section and remained smug.
Finally, someone who couldn’t stand it any longer gave a light cough: “Hello, I am Ji Yun.”
Ji Yun was considered a senior in the industry with many famous works, but he had always been a case of “the show is popular, but the actor isn’t”; his popularity could only be considered mid-tier first-line.
However, he was truly indifferent to fame, and with his tall, slender frame and gentle, cool temperament, while he didn’t have the largest fan base, he had extremely high favorability among the general public almost at the level of a national “white moonlight.”
Shen Ruan didn’t dare to talk back to a senior, so he could only pull back his gaze with resentment.
Once someone broke the ice, the others began to greet each other one after another.
A man with medium-length pink hair and ripped clothing, but with an extremely gorgeous face, lazily raised his eyes. “Xie Tingyan.”
The moment Xie Tingyan spoke, the live stream was flooded with comments.
He was a top-tier singer whom the heavens seemed to feed; his voice could be cold and clear or explosive, with an extremely wide range and a powerful presence. He was hailed as having a “throat kissed by an angel,” and paired with his seductive and gorgeous appearance, he was truly irresistible.
He was also one of the few who, even after coming out as gay, still retained a massive female fan base.
Next to Xie Tingyan, a young man with a round face and two small fangs when he smiled greeted Wen Ze cheerily: “Hello! I’m Ji Hang!”
This was a popular young actor with an unknown background and a massive following of “mom fans.” However, his reputation in the industry wasn’t particularly good, and he was a presence that everyone feared.
That was because, while he looked like a “little puppy” based on both his face and his persona, he was actually a “white on the outside, black on the inside” type.
Several directors, producers, and CEOs who had tried to get handsy with him had all ended up in inexplicable “accidents.” While everyone knew he was the one behind it, there was simply no evidence to be found.
“Qu Zheng.”
A similarly weak voice came from the corner.
If not for that sound, the crowd would have almost ignored the fact that someone was still sitting in the corner.
That person had long, smoky-blue hair tied into a braid at the back of his head. His features were plain the kind you wouldn’t notice even if he were thrown into a crowd.
His face really lacked any distinctiveness, but his name was legendary.
This name was tied to Xie Tingyan’s.
A genius lyricist and composer, and also Xie Tingyan’s exclusive songwriter.
He was socially anxious and somewhat weak in personality; in his early years, he was easily bullied, and countless works of his had been stolen. However, all of that ceased the moment he met Xie Tingyan.
Not only was Xie Tingyan his benefactor, but he treated him exceptionally well and insisted on taking him everywhere he went.
Due to the widely known gay label, the romantic relationship between these two was practically an unspoken fact in the industry, so much so that even though Qu Zheng was closer to a civilian, his popularity remained consistently high.
The two had never clarified their status, and now that they were on the same show, it left everyone wondering if they were about to go public.
These two were also the biggest draw, aside from Zhou Zichen and Wen Ze, serving as the pillars for the show’s ratings.