FLME Ch27: Melon King

A recording existed, but whether it could actually be released was a massive question.

Yu Wen placed his phone on the coffee table. The three of them sat in a row on the sofa and listened to the audio from beginning to end.

…Magnificent. Truly magnificent.

This was Chu Han’s first time hearing this recording, and he was so amused he nearly burst out laughing.

Even Xie Heyu was left speechless.

Yu Wen wore a grave expression.

“First, we need to locate that staff member who stepped in halfway through to use the restroom and ask for his permission to release the audio of him urinating. Following that, we need an account—an account with an untraceable IP address…”

Xi Su: “Can’t we just bleep it out?”

Yu Wen couldn’t help but say: “Audio recordings don’t use ‘bleeping mosaics’.”

“Oh.” Xi Su replied frankly without missing a beat, “Then just snip that middle part out.”

Chu Han: “Wouldn’t that count as doctoring the tape?”

Before they could speak another two sentences, signs of another bickering match flared up. Xie Heyu chimed in unhurriedly: “It can be obfuscated. Muffle the middle dialogue and then play it at double speed.”

The chaos of the internet wasn’t a court of law; there was no need to release every single detail with pristine clarity.

Yu Wen gladly accepted the suggestion, asking him to apply some high-level technical wizardry to distort the staff member’s voice in the middle—especially the words “Teacher Yu,” which strictly required heavy censorship.

Xi Su: “Didn’t you just say audio recordings don’t use bleeping mosaics—”

Yu Wen: “Not important.”

The choice of words wasn’t important; he had no desire to have his name attached to a celebrity gossip storm of this magnitude.

Xie Heyu tapped his knuckles against the edge of the keyboard. He had a few reservations, wanting to point out that mere technical obfuscation still left room for audio restoration. Seeing Yu Wen’s dead-certain expression, however, he refrained from saying more.

Considering online traction, Xie Heyu suggested having Xie Jiamao reach out to familiar media contacts to break the story.

Since the boss was taking over, Yu Wen had no intention of fussing over it further. By the time this bizarre “meeting” wrapped up, it was already three in the morning. Yu Wen saw them to the door—principally Chu Han and Xi Su.

“Set up a makeshift bed on my floor? Keep dreaming. Where could you even lay one out in this sesame-seed-sized place? Turn left outside the compound and there’s a budget hotel. Settle for a night there. Stay safe on the road. Bye.”

Squeezing four people into a studio apartment was a stretch; three could theoretically work, but unfortunately, these two refused to yield an inch to each other, absolutely unwilling to let the other take the prize. Yu Wen was left with no choice but to bundle them both out.

Finding himself so much in demand, Yu Wen even misunderstood for a split second: “Do you guys harbor improper designs on me?”

In return, he received two identical looks reserved for psychiatric patients.

Look at how synchronized they were. Yu Wen was almost tempted to ship them.

“…Since you don’t harbor improper designs on me, why are you so determined to stay at my place? There’s no gold to pick up off my floor.”

Xi Su confessed with total sincerity: “I’m too lazy to move.”

Chu Han said with reserved dignity: “After all, you and I share a deep personal bond, which is naturally closer than what you have with Teacher Xi. If I leave while he stays, it’s easy for people to misunderstand and think my place in your heart is beneath his.”

Yu Wen: “…Heavens above.”

Did friendship come with a competitive streak these days?

Xi Su clung to the doorframe. He had been rushing about all day; before Yu Wen had replied to his text, he was scurrying between the company and home without anything good to show for it. Right now, he was genuinely exhausted.

Xi Su: “Why do we have to leave while he gets to stay?”

The corners of his mouth drooped in dissatisfaction, angling slightly toward Xie Heyu.

Xie Heyu had his arms crossed, leaning against the entryway wall with his head tilted against it. His eyes were half-shut, his entire person radiating bone-deep drowsiness.

It was three in the morning; it would be harder not to be sleepy.

Yu Wen didn’t need to turn around to know what state Teacher Xie was in. After Xie Heyu left earlier, Yu Wen hadn’t planned on calling him back, but Xie Heyu had insisted that since it was company business, Yu Wen shouldn’t have to shoulder the burden alone. He had turned his car around midway and driven back.

Yu Wen’s eyes went round. “Can that even be compared?”

How many meals did he owe Teacher Xie? What was wrong with settling a meal debt with a bed?

Xi Su stiffened his neck, wanting to fire back a retort, but Xie Heyu abruptly opened his eyes, turned around, and grabbed his laptop bag from the sofa. “I’ll go to the hotel. It’s just a few steps away.”

By the time Yu Wen gathered his wits, Xie Heyu was already holding his laptop, one hand shoved into his pocket as he stood at the doorway. “Go to sleep. See you tomorrow.”

Xie Heyu tilted his head in a parting gesture and led the bewildered Chu Han and Xi Su into the elevator.

As he turned, Yu Wen clearly caught him raising a hand to gently pinch the bridge of his nose, his furrowed brow brimming with exhaustion.

Yu Wen: …

Teacher Xie’s skin is still far too thin, he couldn’t help lamenting inwardly.

Before the elevator doors slid shut, Yu Wen caught sight of Xi Su’s eye-catching blue mop. Truly unable to contain himself, he let slip a look of pure disdain.

Xi Su, who happened to look back: ?

Over the next few days, Yu Wen had several magazine shoots scheduled. Since it was his first time shooting for magazines, he inevitably threw himself into the work, significantly reducing his time surfing the web.

Consequently, he missed the lively, roaring discussions among netizens after that audio clip made its way onto the internet.

[…]

[Let me get this straight: the recording circulating earlier was heavily edited, and this current recording… is a recording of someone recording while editing the audio.]

[You guys are playing Matryoshka nesting dolls here, aren’t you?]

[I don’t care who’s in the right or wrong, I just want to know which king of melon-eaters managed to stumble into someone else editing an audio tape?]

[The more you savor this audio, the funnier it gets.]

[This old man heard the sound of a toilet flushing (strategically adjusts glasses)]

[Don’t tell me this happened in a restroom? Celebrity gossip in your entertainment circle is getting increasingly absurd.]

[What’s the situation here? Don’t tell me one of you was editing inside a stall while the other was recording from the stall next door.]

[Hahahahahaha I pictured that scene in my head hahahaha so funny]

[I want to know which brother provided this recording, I’m more curious why you were even on the scene.]

[Didn’t it say up there? Source: A righteous, enthusiastic citizen.]

[A righteous, enthusiastic citizen haha holy shit]

[What on earth was said in that sped-up part in the middle? Not hearing the full version is killing me!]

[Sped-up is one thing, but they even added subtitles]

[<Offensive broadcast decency, for public to unsuitable> hahaha which genius added those subtitles save me]

[I just have to see how offensive to decency it really is. Someone! Summon the audio engineers!]

[Any bored netizen willing to restore this segment?]

[It’s somewhat difficult, it’ll probably take several days. Who has that much free time?]

[I have free time.]

[I have free time.]

……

[Life doesn’t have that many spectators, but it sure has plenty of bored bastards like the ones above.]

[Hahahaha damn it, are you crazy!]

Over the weekend, there was a morning livestream.

At six in the morning, Yu Wen rolled out of bed with a string of yawns and stood at the entrance of the residential complex hailing a cab to the livestream location.

This time, the livestream was set within the same city, sparing him the hassle of flying around. Unfortunately, it was out in the suburbs, requiring a departure two hours in advance so he could arrive, sort out his styling, and go live around eight-thirty.

…What kind of decent person watches a livestream at eight-thirty in the morning? Yu Wen grumbled silently.

Arriving in the suburbs, Yu Wen climbed into the commercial van arranged by the platform. Chu Han was already waiting inside for him, his bangs held up with a metal styling clip into a small sprout.

“Good morning.” He too was yawning uncontrollably.

After exchanging brief greetings, the two took a short catnap in the car. By the time they reached the orchard’s exterior, Yu Wen spotted several eye-catching banners and roll-up displays through the window. Reaching back, he poked Chu Han. “Your fans.”

Today was a public schedule. The platform had begun building hype long ago, so fans staking out the venue was hardly surprising.

Yu Wen thought with absolute confidence: I too dabble in fan club support culture.

A dozen or so young girls were gathered outside the orchard. Seeing them step out of the car, the crowd instantly surged in their direction like a tidal wave.

Yu Wen took to his heels immediately, opening up a ten-meter gap between himself and Chu Han in the blink of an eye. Finding a shaded corner, he gleefully stood by to watch the spectacle—until a little flag was held out right in front of him.

…?

Tracing the flag upward, he was met with a beaming face. The young girl handed him the flag, appearing slightly nervous.

“Teacher Yu, here, your support color.”

Yu Wen pointed at himself, his face practically screaming: Me???

He took the flag. In the brief moment he was dazed, he looked up to find four or five people suddenly surrounding him. In his disorientation, Yu Wen almost thought he was a criminal cornered by a crowd of enthusiastic citizens.

“We’re your fans. Over the past few days, we’ve been discussing your support color in the group chat. Since you never came online, we temporarily settled on bright yellow.” The girl leading the group pointed gingerly at the little flag in his hand. “Bright yellow—bright, cheerful, and warm, just like you.”

Yu Wen was startled by these two adjectives. “Ah?”

Bright, cheerful, and warm?

Was that a synonym for being dangerously out of one’s mind?

His expression was so vivid that the girls covered their mouths and chuckled softly, the lingering nervousness and constraint vanishing without a trace.

“We couldn’t help it! Who told Teacher Yu not to go online? We had no choice but to settle it ourselves first. What color do you like, Teacher Yu?” another livelier girl with a high ponytail chimed in to ask.

Yu Wen stared at the support flag in his hand.

The flag was printed on both sides with a half-body photo: one showed him sitting on the mountaintop watching the sunrise from the side, and the other showed him stepping out of the commercial van, the dim streetlamp flickering over his dark hair, clad in a white tee and long pants, with a smile at the corner of his lips. The overall atmosphere was breathtakingly gentle.

Examining the little flag with novelty, he said dazedly, “I like… well, blue, I guess.”

“OK!” The girl with the high ponytail snapped her fingers crisply. “Then we’ll make it a blue-yellow gradient! What about a nickname? What nickname does Teacher like?”

Yu Wen looked up at her. She felt somewhat familiar, though he couldn’t place her right away. He pursed his lips. “Anything works.”

“Is Xiao Yu okay?”

“…That’s fine. Everyone calls me Xiao Yu.”

“What about Yu-bao? Baby? Wife? Daughter?”

Yu Wen almost agreed outright. Snapping back to his senses, he stammered for a beat before still offering: “They’re all… fine.”

Those two words were squeezed out with supreme reluctance.

The girl shook with laughter. “Teacher, has anyone ever told you that you’re genuinely so well-behaved in private? Looking like this just makes people desperately want to bully you…”

The words “looking so well-behaved” dredged up a distant memory for Yu Wen. After pondering for two seconds, realization struck him: “Ah, I’ve seen you before.”

—On the day he ran into Xi Su secretly meeting with the private investigator, a young girl had asked him for a photo together at the café.

The girl was astonished. “You remember something from that long ago? Your memory is amazing.”

Yu Wen was rather pleased. “You’re my fan now?”

The girl nodded: “Yes, yes!”

Yu Wen: “What do you see in me?”

“…”

He asked with utter earnestness, completely devoid of sarcasm. The girl thought for a moment and shot him a wink: “I see that you’re good-looking. Struck by lust.”

Yu Wen shot a wink right back at her, brackets curling around his cheeks as he smiled. “Thank you then.”

The girl clutched her heart, her smile sobering up: “Baby, mama is actually a man too.”

Yu Wen: “…”

The girl: “Why aren’t you speaking?”

Yu Wen put on a solemn look: “I’m thinking.”

The surrounding crowd erupted into laughter all at once.

Yu Wen carried a peculiar magnetic field that could make everything around him feel breezy and light.

Chu Han had been mired in scandalous rumors recently. Even though Xie Jiamao had signed him at rocket speed and begun handling the fallout, the whispers and gossip wouldn’t dissipate that quickly. Fans handed him several handwritten letters of comfort; he read through them the whole way, deep emotion hidden beneath his calm expression.

Yu Wen waved his little flag. “Teacher Chu, jiayou! Teacher Chu, don’t worry!”

Teacher Chu found him noisy and shoved the bouquet of flowers given by fans right into his arms.

Yu Wen had no choice but to find a place to put the flowers.

He headed toward the dressing room. Just as he neared the door, he heard faint voices drifting out—the two makeup artists were gossiping.

“…The crown prince of Huiteng asked us last night about the broadcast start time. Looks like he plans to inspect…”

“Inspect what? He’s coming to see his partner. Teacher Chu these past few days… hasn’t that matter still not been clarified…”

“So he’s coming to back him up? To show everyone Teacher Chu is still his person and make all those rumors shut up?”

“It’s one way to clear things up. With the Huiteng crown prince wrapped around his finger, why would Teacher Chu ever need to resort to unspoken casting couch rules?”

“Could we be overthinking it?”

“Aiya, won’t we know the moment we see if the crown prince shows up later?”

Yu Wen stood for a moment, didn’t enter, and turned on his heel to leave.

Outside the dressing room sat watermelons prepared for all the staff—the star product of this agricultural charity drive, cut into bite-sized wedges for easy eating.

On his way out, Yu Wen casually picked up a slice. Catching sight of Chu Han, he took a bite of melon and shoved the flowers right back into his arms.

“I have a world-shaking secret. Go put the flowers away yourself, and I’ll tell you.”

Chu Han looked down at the flowers, muttering in a daze: “I didn’t ask you to put them away…”

Yu Wen chewed on his melon. “Do you want to hear it or not?”

Chu Han: “Spill.”

Yu Wen: “Feng Chengzhou might be coming later.”

Chu Han fell quiet for a moment.

“What?!”

A trace of annoyance was audible in his voice. He had always disliked Feng Chengzhou meddling excessively in his work, let alone dropping out of thin air directly at his workspace.

This displeasure even persisted right up to airtime. It wasn’t until Yu Wen tugged at his sleeve that he reined in his expression and brought out a smile.

“Hello everyone, welcome to the XX livestream! I’m your old friend. It’s the four of us again—yes, the four of us again! What we’re performing for you today is eating watermelon, hahahaha…”

The familiar quartet: the host revving up the atmosphere in front, Chu Han sitting beside him as a well-behaved little vase, and Yu Wen sitting in the back with his colleague Xiao Li, responsible for eating watermelon.

Xiao Li had a great impression of him. Holding a slice of watermelon, he chewed as he greeted him, “Long time no see.”

Yu Wen held a watermelon slice too, his eyes curving into crescents as he answered, “Long time no see.”

It was no different from the previous livestream, except that Yu Wen was slightly more famous now. Having just trended recently, the audience still remembered this familiar face.

Shielding his lips with the watermelon rind, Xiao Li whispered to him: “I watched your variety show.”

Yu Wen: “Was it good?”

Xiao Li’s eyes lit up instantly, nodding vigorously: “Good, so brilliant! You’re so smart!”

[Oi! No whispering!]

[Let me hear too! What is there that we audience lords can’t listen to!]

[So secretive, don’t tell me you’re talking about superpowers.]

[Don’t bring that up in front of Chu Han! He’s about to shatter!]

[Hahahahaha the internet’s memory is truly solid…]

[What? What meme is this?]

[What are they talking about? Have I fallen behind the times?]

[They’re talking about that handsome little guy in the back, his performance on the variety show was stellar…]

Today, the host was in no rush to reel Yu Wen to the front. He needed to run through the schedule, diligently introducing the agricultural produce.

“No need to worry about breakage, everyone. We’re partnered with JD.com. The watermelons will be cold-chain transported to hubs nationwide tomorrow and delivered to your doorstep within twenty-four hours. They won’t break…”

Since he couldn’t see the barrage anyway, Yu Wen let his eyes glaze over, nibbling sluggishly along the edge of the watermelon like an exhausted hamster.

Suddenly, noticing something, his gaze snapped into focus, locking onto a direction to his right.

Feng Chengzhou had arrived.

In the heat of June, he wore a bespoke shirt, black tailored trousers, and gleaming leather shoes. His million-dollar cufflinks reflected the sunlight, bright enough to blind someone. Looking as though he had just wrapped up work, he carried a wind-swept, travel-worn aura, faint exhaustion lingering between his brows.

Yu Wen watched him stride over, utterly unable to suppress his surging curiosity—What is he trying to pull? What is he trying to pull? What is he trying to pull?

Here to back him up? Or here to see his wife? Or here to back him up while sneaking a look at his wife?

Every time Feng Chengzhou appeared, there was always drama to watch. Yu Wen had already mapped out this pattern: this domineering CEO was exceptionally adept at acting foolish in front of his wife. Dropping in unannounced this time without a word of warning, Chu Han was bound to be furious with him.

The moment Chu Han got angry, the CEO was bound to eat dirt.

Yu Wen was genuinely curious about how much face this domineering CEO was going to lose today.

He wasn’t worried about Feng Chengzhou bringing negative fallout onto Chu Han. Moving in the same circles, Feng Chengzhou’s tactics for handling public relations were far more seasoned than Chu Han’s—matters of the heart notwithstanding.

Yu Wen’s suddenly eager expression caught the attention of the bullet screen.

[What did you see this time?]

[Honestly, Teacher, your expressions are truly so infectious…]

[My curiosity is piqued, tell me what happened!]

Glancing at the chat, Chu Han turned his head in confusion, his eyes locking dead-on with Feng Chengzhou who was marching over with broad strides. His expression shifted instantly.

[Who on earth is it?! To make you guys wear that kind of face!! (Screaming from the bottom of my lungs)]

[I want to see, I want to see! Reel them in front of the camera!]

“Pardon me, I’m late.” Glancing out of the corner of his eye at Chu Han’s expression, Feng Chengzhou’s smile dimmed slightly. He walked straight up to the camera and greeted the host.

Host: …?

Hello? When did you ever mention you were coming?

With things already at this stage, he couldn’t very well expose him. The host had no choice but to exchange polite pleasantries: “President Feng manages countless affairs daily; having you here is already our honor! Babies in the livestream, this is our mystery guest for today—President Feng of Huiteng Group! Isn’t this a huge surprise? Hahahaha…”

[…]

[…]

[…]

[Do I look surprised to you?]

Yu Wen hadn’t brought his phone, so he didn’t know that within a mere twenty minutes of Feng Chengzhou’s arrival, #CrownPrinceDropsInLivestream# stormed up the trending rankings, claiming the number one spot with rock-solid stability.

Though the crown prince was renowned within the industry, he wasn’t an artist and rarely appeared on camera. This practically counted as his screen debut—and dropping right into the livestream of the person he had publicly come out for, no less. The intention was self-evident.

He had come to back him up.

Linking this to recent whispers and rumors, netizens went wild in the comments beneath the trending search.

[This world is one gigantic CEO romance novel…]

[Hard to rate this, but I wish him success.]

[He’s anxious, he’s anxious!]

[Why is this kinda fun to ship…]

[Arrogant CEO × Aloof, unyielding little star… Siss, kinda tasty.]

[I’m willing to be part of your foreplay, can I sleep under the bed when you guys smash?]

[Pretty manly, though. I thought he was joking before.]

[President Feng, in the twenty minutes since dropping in, are you more afraid of your wife’s cold shoulder, or him getting hurt by rumors?]

[What? Cold shoulder?]

[This teacher named Chu Han looks pretty unhappy…]

[Hahahahaha just popped in to look and came back, what a bizarre atmosphere, what a stiff CEO!]

[Getting better and better! I’m heading to the livestream, any kind soul got a link?]

[XX Livestream: #$%…]

Netizens were feasting on the drama with burning enthusiasm, and those with fast fingers were already churning out steamy fanfiction. Clicking into the trending tag revealed a chorus of panting and drooling.

Yet people truly in the industry noticed far more than just the superficial fluff of romantic entanglements.

Huiteng Group was in the middle of a leadership transition. The previous chairman was about to step down, and barring any accidents, the next chairman would be Feng Chengzhou. However, Feng Chengzhou’s earlier public coming out had dealt a blow to his standing—after all, coming out meant having no heir.

With this recent bombshell about the illegitimate child, Huiteng Group’s stock had tumbled. While Feng Mingjie had been condemned by netizens for days, Feng Chengzhou remained entirely unmoved, fueling speculation of a total rift between father and son.

Under such circumstances, whether the next chairman would truly be Feng Chengzhou was hard to say.

Feng Chengzhou’s appearance in the livestream today might simply have been to support the person he loved, but in the eyes of interested parties, any minuscule detail could be magnified into a tempest of blood and gore.

Thus, flooding into the livestream alongside the rabble of gossip hounds and fanfic readers was a cohort of industry heavyweights, as quiet as chickens.

Before the camera, Chu Han and Feng Chengzhou sat shoulder to shoulder, the atmosphere taut.

The host had originally planned to sit between them to manage the room, but the moment he sat down, Feng Chengzhou’s icy side-eye swept right over. The host simply chose to stand.

The barrage asked:

[Not speaking? Isn’t today’s theme selling melons? Sell them, then.]

Chu Han’s pinky finger resting on the table twitched.

“Selling melons…” The host sighed deeply. “No, today’s theme isn’t selling melons; it’s eating melons—feasting on drama.”

With that, he dragged his stool directly to the back and sat in a row with Yu Wen and his companion.

[Hahahahaha straight up laying flat.]

[Host: I’m tired, you guys sell them.]

[Host: What a godforsaken world.]

Yu Wen and Xiao Li were thoroughly engrossed in watching the spectacle. Seeing him come over, they were dumbfounded for a second. Yu Wen handed him a slice of watermelon. “Teacher, here.”

The three of them sat in a neat, tidy row in the corner, munching on watermelon in perfect unison.

The scene was packed with comedic effect, but unfortunately, the barrage’s focus was entirely consumed by Feng Chengzhou’s sudden drop-in; for the moment, nobody paid attention to the background props.

Still working, still working, still working… Chu Han chanted three times in his head before finally picking up the rundown card beside him.

According to the card, he was supposed to collaborate with his partner next to create a simple watermelon carving…?

What?

Chu Han looked on in disbelief, reading it back and forth two or three times.

There hadn’t been any such segment the last time he came.

[Host: Wearing a sullen little cat face.]

[What’s got you so troubled? It’s not like they’re making you guys do it live for us to watch, right?]

[Huh? Commenter above, you…]

[Sir, this is a wholesome, upright livestream…]

[What on earth is the content, ahhhhh!]

Chu Han gripped the rundown card tightly. Remembering this segment, the host was just about to stand up to smooth things over when Feng Chengzhou took the initiative to reach out, wanting to see what was written on the card—

Chu Han slapped his hand away with a sharp backhand.

Right before the livestream, right in front of tens of thousands of viewers.

A backhand slap.

Gave him a clean strike.

In front of the screen and behind the screen, a brief silence fell.

A faint redness bloomed across the back of the hand, proving just how much force was behind the hit. Both of Feng Chengzhou’s hands froze in midair, locked in an awkward, comical posture.

The bullet screen went still for a heartbeat, then exploded with laughter.

[(CEO reaches out) (CEO gets slapped) (CEO is shocked)]

[Crown prince (loudly): Even my dad has never hit me!]

[You guys might as well just do it instead hahahaha…]

[The host was so scared his butt froze in midair.]

[Hahahahaha what an absurd turn of events hahaha…]