Chapter 14

Naturally, Duan Baisui arranged his tableware for him and started putting food into his bowl.
At last, someone couldn’t help asking, “Young President Duan, and this is…?”
Just then, Zuo Nian had a butter roll in his mouth. Hearing the question, he looked up too.
He’d never appeared with Duan Baisui at any formal event.
Up to now, almost no one knew that he was the one he’d married.
He’d heard the word “fool” directed at himself too many times growing up. Now, anxiety twisted in his chest.
He was afraid that Duan Baisui wouldn’t want to acknowledge him.
He was even more afraid that he’d never truly been seen by him at all.
But to his surprise, there wasn’t the slightest hesitation.
“I haven’t introduced him yet,” said Duan Baisui, solemn as ever. “This is my Omega, Zuo Nian. I thought our matching suits would make it obvious, but it seems I wasn’t obvious enough.”
In a rare show of humor, his frosty features were softened by a real smile.
Inside, Zuo Nian nearly burst.
He swallowed his mouthful in a hurry and sat up straight. “Hello,” he said politely.
“Oh, hello, hello,” everyone chimed in. “You two are a perfect match.”
“We heard you and young President Duan have known each other a long time?”
“Mm,” said Duan Baisui, smiling faintly.
“We met when we were five,” Zuo Nian added.
“Childhood sweethearts, then. Hahaha.”
“No wonder he’s been keeping you to himself all this time.”
“Look at that. Now that Left‑sir’s here, all of Xingyu’s artists pale in comparison.”
He wasn’t used to hearing so much praise from strangers.
No one dared call him a fool in front of Duan Baisui. No one dared look down on him.
Even if some of them privately suspected the marriage wasn’t all that harmonious—otherwise, why hide it for so long—in public, they stuck to the line that young President Duan was simply reluctant to show off his beloved.
Such was the art of social niceties.
On stage, the performances began.
Zuo Nian finally saw, in person, the faces he’d only known from TV.
He wanted to take photos, but he was afraid that might embarrass Duan Baisui.
So he just watched and clapped along with everyone else.
That was when a man in a gray suit approached their table.
With fine features and gold‑rimmed glasses dangling from a delicate chain, he exuded a quiet, almost ascetic air.
Zuo Nian recognized him instantly—it was Ju Xiao, the one who’d been bullied.
He looked very different now: calmer, more confident.
Holding a glass of wine, he bowed slightly. “President Duan, I wanted to thank you in person for everything you’ve done. I never had the chance before, but since I do tonight, I’d like to propose a toast.”
Expression unreadable, Duan Baisui lifted his glass and clinked it against his. “I’d have done the same for any artist.”
“I know,” Ju Xiao said. “You’re a good man—and a very good boss.”
He bowed again. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“Dealing with internal problems is part of my job,” said Duan Baisui. “Don’t let it weigh on you too heavily. Focus on getting better. If you run into any trouble, talk to your psychologist or your agent.”
“I will,” said Ju Xiao.
Draining his glass, he noticed Zuo Nian’s gaze. Turning, he offered him a friendly smile and a small bow of greeting.
Beaming, Zuo Nian bobbed his head in return.
After Ju Xiao left, more artists came over to toast.
Since he couldn’t drink, Zuo Nian simply followed everyone’s lead, standing when they did and raising a glass of juice.
He barely touched his food all evening. It was just sips of juice and an endless stream of pleasantries.
As the night wore on, those with early morning shoots began to slip away.
Only then, as the crowd finally thinned, did Zuo Nian spot Lu Li, the lead actor from Bamboo Grove.
Lounging carelessly in his seat, the man crossed his long legs and leaned sideways, one arm draped over the back of the chair as he texted on his phone.
Tugging on Duan Baisui’s sleeve, Zuo Nian whispered, “Can I… go ask for his autograph?”
Following his gaze, Duan Baisui saw that Lu Li’s table wasn’t far away and was nearly empty.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Before coming tonight, Zuo Nian had made a point of grabbing a little notebook and pen from the shop.
He’d tucked them into his vest pocket when he’d changed.
Now he took them out and walked over to Lu Li’s table.
Only three people remained seated there.
No one was talking. One was on the phone; another was focused on the show.
Stopping in front of Lu Li, Zuo Nian bowed slightly. “H‑hello, Mr. Lu. Could I… please have your autograph?”
Glancing up in surprise, Lu Li slipped his phone into his pocket.
He had one of those naturally seductive faces—peach‑blossom eyes that made him look deep‑feeling even when he was thinking about nothing at all, sharp features and a razor‑clean jawline. The very picture of a playboy.
“You’re new?” he asked with a smile.
Zuo Nian didn’t quite get what he meant by “new,” so he just assumed he meant it was his first time here.
“Mm,” he said, nodding.
Taking the notebook and pen, Lu Li chuckled. “With a page this tiny, I’ll have to sign one character per sheet.”
Flushing a little, Zuo Nian said, “Big ones are hard to carry.”
He couldn’t exactly show up to the company gala carrying a sketchpad under his arm.
Raising the notebook, Lu Li said, “It’s pretty cute, actually.”
Then he scrawled his name across the page in bold, sweeping strokes.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Zuo Nian,” Zuo Nian answered carefully. “Zuo as in left and Nian as in ‘year after year.’”
“Let me give you a to‑sign, then,” said Lu Li.
“Eh?” Zuo Nian’s brow arched in delight. “Thank you very much.”
“What’s got you in such a good mood today, Lu‑ge? Giving out to‑signs and everything?” teased the woman sitting closest to him.
“Maybe we’ll work together someday,” Lu Li said lazily.
Zuo Nian recognized her too. She was Huo Lian, the second female lead in Bamboo Grove.
Her role had been incredibly striking.
At first, she’d been the one always picking fights with the male and female leads, endlessly scheming against them and their friends. She’d been thoroughly unlikeable.
But later, she’d died on the battlefield with the war flag in her hands, pierced by a thousand arrows for her country—and in that moment, she’d won the audience’s hearts.
“Hello,” he said, nodding shyly. “You were amazing as Princess Tingyue. Could I have your autograph too?”
Smiling, Huo Lian said, “All I ever see online is people cursing her. I thought no one liked that character.”
“No, she’s very charming. She’s just… still growing,” he said, carefully putting his feelings into words.
“Ah, if only everyone saw her the way you do, little shidi. I’ve been getting flamed into depression lately,” she said wryly.
Flustered but happy to be talking to someone he admired, Zuo Nian scratched at his head.
Handing the notebook to Huo Lian, Lu Li said, “Give our little shidi your autograph.”
“Of course,” said Huo Lian.
“Want to take a photo together too?” Lu Li asked, eyes crinkling.
“C‑can I?”
“Sure,” he said agreeably.
Zuo Nian took out his phone and flipped the camera around. As Lu Li leaned in, just about to sling an arm around his shoulder, Duan Baisui arrived.
His expression had returned to its usual iciness. “Taking photos?” he asked.
“Gege,” said Zuo Nian.
“Gege?” repeated Lu Li.
Just then, Huo Lian stood up, autograph finished, and greeted him with a smile. “President Duan.”
“Mm,” he said with a nod.
As she handed the notebook back to Zuo Nian, Duan Baisui intercepted it mid‑air.
He flipped through it once, then snapped it shut.
“So this pretty Omega isn’t a new junior,” Lu Li said. “He’s your little brother?”
Smiling faintly, Duan Baisui said, “He’s my spouse. We’re married.”
Lu Li: “…?”
Huo Lian: “!!!”
“Gege, can you take a photo for us?” Zuo Nian asked, utterly oblivious to the shift in the air.
Casting a cool glance at Lu Li, Duan Baisui said, “Of course.”
“Ms. Huo, would you mind?” Zuo Nian asked her.
“Not at all,” she said.
He stood in the middle, with Huo Lian and Lu Li on either side—both making a point of keeping their distance.
After the shot, he thanked them profusely.
When he and Duan Baisui were safely out of earshot, Lu Li groaned, “Is my career over?”