FLME Ch82

When Yu Wen posted on Weibo, the comments section was already flooded with “mother-in-law” remarks.

Yu Wen: [Today is the premiere, everyone, go watch Mingzhu! No need to focus too much on Xiao Yu’s private life (≧v≦)]

—”Xiao Yu, does he spend your money? A man who spends your money isn’t worth keeping.”

—”Dating is all about character—hardworking, ambitious, tolerant, polite, etc. These are our basic requirements for your boyfriend.”

—”What does he look like? He can’t be ugly. Otherwise, you’ll have to wake up to an ugly man every morning.”

—”Remember to sign a prenuptial agreement.”

As soon as the phrase “private life” was mentioned, everyone basically understood it as confirmation. Since the boyfriend was half an outsider to the industry and this was a crucial time for the show’s promotion, it wasn’t appropriate to go public and shift the spotlight. But it was undeniable that Yu Wen was in a relationship.

In less than an hour, Xie Heyu’s full-face photos were dug up. Although he wasn’t a celebrity, he had inadvertently caught netizens’ attention a few times. Those scattered bits of attention were like fleeting moments in memory, but now they converged into a blurry yet vivid image.

Who hasn’t sneaked a bite of Hero-Villian’s meals? Who hasn’t been amazed by the GIF of Yu Wen sitting on his manager’s shoulders making a heart gesture?

There weren’t many full-face photos of Xie Heyu, but during his time as a guest in Evil Dragon, netizens had unearthed his private account. Thanks to the older generation in his family, the comments section contained quite a few close-up shots.

Most of these photos were from a few years ago, with none from recent times. Though he looked youthful in them, it wasn’t hard to tell he was a very handsome guy.

Thus, fans quickly changed their tune:

—”Being handsome doesn’t mean he’s not a scumbag.”

—”Xiao Yu, promise Mom you won’t be blinded by love.”

While fans were nitpicking their son-in-law, the entertainment industry began a wave of judging managers.

Fans of various celebrities sounded the alarm, rushing to their managers’ Weibo accounts with repeated warnings:

—”Do you have any improper thoughts about my baby?! Huh? Do you? Answer!”

—”If you dare to lust after XX, you’re dead meat!”

—”You’re not allowed to make a move… Oh, you’re ugly anyway, not as good-looking as that Xie guy. My son probably wouldn’t be interested.”

—”From now on, you better dress disgustingly at work, got it?!”

After Yu Wen’s post, the company managed to suppress the trending topic, and the storm subsided somewhat. However, even by evening, Yu Wen was still receiving messages from friends in the industry.

Everyone had been caught off guard by the trending topic and sent their congratulations, teasing him to remember to invite them to the wedding.

Yu Wen replied to each message, only to discover that there were even people shipping the CP.

Yi Ming shared a video from the trending topic in the Battle Royale group chat, rallying everyone to ship the couple.

Yi Ming: [OMG… Our Xiao Yu, won’t he get broken in bed?]

Tong Li: […Such scandalous words.]

Jian Heng: [They’re finally together. I’m an OG CP fan, by the way.]

Under Yi Ming’s persistent questioning, Jian Heng, one of the earliest insiders to notice the signs, began listing all the CP-worthy moments of Xie and Yu.

The group chat was filled with exclamations like “Wow,” “Oh,” and “OMG,” while Yu Wen silently turned off his phone, opting for peace of mind.

He didn’t know if others could sleep, but one thing was certain: he didn’t sleep well that night.

The fan groups remained relatively harmonious, with no extreme comments or insults. Instead, they focused on peculiar details like physique, appearance, personality, horoscope, facial features… Some fans even took screenshots of Xie Heyu’s palm to analyze his palm lines.

Even so, Yu Wen was still worried, refreshing Weibo constantly until Xie Heyu walked in with a glass of milk and forcibly confiscated his phone.

“Sleep.”

Yu Wen tilted his head up, looking pitiful. “I can’t sleep.”

Xie Heyu bent down slightly, hinting suggestively, “Then should we do some exercise?”

“…” Yu Wen took the milk and drank it in one gulp. “I suddenly feel sleepy. Go wash up. I’ll sleep first.”

He wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, closed his eyes, and put on a perfect “good boy” act.

Xie Heyu picked up the empty glass and went downstairs to wash it. Before leaving the room, he said, “Actually, I’m really happy… Even if I get scolded, I’m happy.”

The door closed softly. In the darkness, Yu Wen opened his eyes and pouted slightly.

Happy as he was, did he really have to say it out loud… Such a scheming man.

Maybe it was because he had something on his mind, but Yu Wen didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning in his dreams. Fortunately, with no work scheduled recently, he could afford to stay in bed.

By the time he woke up, it was already noon. Xie Heyu wasn’t at the villa. After asking Xi Su, he learned that Heyu had gone out to buy household supplies.

Carrying a cup of water, Yu Wen walked out of the kitchen and stood behind Xi Su like a ghost.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Xi Su, engrossed in drama, didn’t even turn his head. “Slept great.”

He dared to sleep well!

Yu Wen gritted his teeth. “I slept very poorly.”

Realizing what was going on, Xi Su suggested, “How about I make it up to you… I could pretend to be one of your CP fans and record some sweet daily moments between you two. When the drama finishes airing, I’ll post them on Weibo every day. Fans will get used to it eventually… Oh, and they asked me to film for the group variety show anyway.”

“Scram.”

Xi Su only ever had harebrained ideas. Yu Wen trusted his intentions but not his competence.

Grabbing a sandwich from the fridge, Yu Wen heated it up and sat back on the sofa. Out of boredom, he asked, “What are you watching?”

Xi Su replied, “Your new drama.”

“Moon Harbor?”

“Yup. Fans were pestering me to watch it yesterday, but I got interrupted halfway through. Now I don’t even dare livestream, afraid they’ll bombard me with questions about your love life… But I still have to watch it. I only managed one episode last night, and it left me itching for more.”

As far as Yu Wen knew, Moon Harbor had 30 episodes in total. The update schedule wasn’t slow, and Director Miao didn’t seem intent on dragging it out—likely aiming to finish airing within a month.

The first four episodes had premiered, but Yu Wen didn’t have much screen time in them. The plot’s focus was on the male and female leads.

After finishing the episodes, Xi Su clicked his tongue, clearly wanting more. Remembering Yu Wen, he asked, “Why haven’t you appeared yet? Aren’t you the second male lead?”

Chewing on his sandwich, Yu Wen lazily replied, “Don’t rush. Soon it’ll be all me, every day, until you’re sick of it.”

On Weibo, netizens were also complaining. The much-anticipated Song Mingzhu didn’t have much screen time in the first eight episodes. Fans, already on edge waiting for the premiere, now had to endure another two days.

Yu Wen’s fans had it the worst—last night, their “wife” had been “stolen,” and the beautiful character he played was nowhere to be seen. Truly a double blow.

Song Mingzhu’s first appearance was in episode seven.

He walked out of the Song family’s trading house and accidentally bumped into the female lead, who was rushing to catch someone. She dropped a pocket watch, which Song Mingzhu picked up, raising his gaze to look at her.

A simple, ordinary moment.

Although this young master of the Song family hadn’t been shown on screen yet, he’d been mentioned frequently. By the time the story began, Song Mingzhu was already the head of the Song family—steady, composed, and courteous. Through others’ descriptions, the audience learned that this gentle and approachable young master had once been shy and timid, overlooked in the Song family. So how had he risen to his current position?

“How did he climb the ranks?” Xi Su turned his head to ask.

Tearing apart the dry bread Xie Heyu had brought back, Yu Wen mumbled, “Who are you talking about? Song Mingzhu?”

Chu Han, who was also watching, sat cross-legged on the carpet, hugging a cushion. After pondering for a moment, he said, “I think your character is a bit odd… His behavior doesn’t quite add up.”

As someone deeply familiar with character study, Chu Han sensed something was off just from the side descriptions. He asked, “Does Mingzhu have some kind of mental illness?”

The backstory of Song Mingzhu’s life wasn’t in the original novel but was expanded upon by Director Miao. In the character notes released by Director Miao, it was mentioned that Mingzhu had been locked in a basement by his mother until he was twelve. However, there was no direct depiction of his perspective, leaving his thoughts on the matter unknown.

“Uh…” Yu Wen deliberated on how to answer without spoiling the plot. “Well, he’s definitely not normal. He didn’t ‘turn dark’ in the Song family because he was never ‘white’ to begin with.”

Suspense dramas are notoriously hard to execute, requiring precise pacing, compelling plotlines, meaningful themes, and a solid core—all of which are indispensable.

Director Miao, a seasoned veteran, had transitioned from the big screen to TV dramas, stretching a two-hour movie into a 30-episode series while maintaining excellent pacing.

Although the story was set in Shanghai, its themes extended far beyond that small patch of land. The leads had impressively upright moral compasses. When Yu Wen read the script, he was often moved by their choices.

The female lead repeatedly risked her life to prevent an explosion that had nothing to do with her. The male lead longed for peace and placed a soulmate-like trust in the female lead. These elements were essential to the drama’s success.

Xie Heyu recorded the ratings every day, but Yu Wen had stopped paying much attention to the numbers. He enjoyed playing Song Mingzhu and left the rest to fate.

The audience, however, was clearly thrilled by his performance.

Especially in episode ten, when most of Song Mingzhu’s storyline was revealed, that naïve, bewildered, yet morbidly monstrous aura gradually transformed. Initially sharp and vivid enough to send shivers down the audience’s spine with just a glance, it later became almost imperceptible, leaking through only in the occasional line of dialogue.

It was as if an invisible layer of skin had gradually and seamlessly wrapped around Song Mingzhu over the years.

From childhood to adolescence, from twelve to twenty, each phase of Song Mingzhu’s life was distinct, and Yu Wen managed to convey these layers with his performance.

—”Melon King, did you secretly take acting classes behind my back?”

—”I finally understand why Director Miao insisted on casting him…”

—”We all agreed to be laid-back jokers, and you went and secretly improved?”

—”I’ve got goosebumps all over…”

—”This kind of raw talent—I’ve only ever seen it in a few award-winning actresses.”

—”Truly a born actor.”

Moon Harbor had a broader audience appeal. Dramas are inherently more mainstream than variety shows, and as a prime-time series airing on two major networks simultaneously, its ratings soared. From seventy-year-old grandmothers to three- or four-year-old children, everyone became familiar with Yu Wen’s face.

It couldn’t be helped—his makeup and styling were simply too stunning.

By episode twelve, many of Yu Wen’s scenes with the male lead had aired. The ambiguous, push-and-pull relationship between Song Mingzhu and Fu Mingshen, along with that one line—”Brother, how am I any different from you?”—struck a chord with viewers, igniting a frenzy over the “brother complex” pairing. The “bone-deep” chemistry between the two characters became an overnight sensation.

Even Chu Han joined in, secretly reading explicit fanfiction.

One time, Yu Wen caught him in the act and, unable to tolerate it any longer, told him the harsh truth: “Stop shipping them. This pairing isn’t worth it—you’ll be heartbroken every day later on.”

Chu Han didn’t believe him, convinced that Xie Heyu had put Yu Wen up to sabotage the ship.

An innocent and wrongly accused Xie Heyu: “?”

In this drama, there were no pairings worth shipping. Unfortunately, no one listened to Yu Wen’s blunt honesty. Chu Han didn’t believe him, and neither did Xi Su. The latter was fervently shipping the male and female leads, insisting they were the “official couple.”

Yu Wen countered, “There’s no romance between them.”

Xi Su not only refused to believe him but also got upset and declared their friendship over. He only calmed down after being beaten—by proxy, with Xie Heyu wielding a feather duster under Yu Wen’s orders.

The “brother complex” pairing burned brightly but fizzled out just as quickly after episode fourteen aired.

By then, Fu Mingshen’s attitude toward Song Mingzhu had become clear.

He understood Song Mingzhu but remained indifferent, watching from the sidelines.

The female lead wanted to save Song Mingzhu but didn’t know how, unable to grasp the monstrous soul beneath his outward appearance.

Neither the male nor female lead could save Song Mingzhu. And Song Mingzhu… was never part of their mutual understanding and camaraderie.

Yu Wen wasn’t joking when he said the pairing wasn’t worth shipping. In this drama, Song Mingzhu was destined for loneliness, with no one to rely on and nowhere to belong.

The audience wanted to blame the male lead, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. His personality was simply that way. He had warned Song Mingzhu early on and even offered a helping hand, but he would never interfere in Mingzhu’s life. If there was blame to be assigned, it lay in Mingzhu’s deep-seated issues and the inadequacy of the male lead’s “medicine.”

Netizens wrote long analyses of Song Mingzhu’s character, arguing that he didn’t need redemption—he needed love. If he could learn to interact with people normally, he could also learn friendship, familial love, and romantic love. But he lacked examples of these emotions in his life.

What he truly needed was a partner with normal, healthy emotions.

As the drama reached its midpoint, it trended on social media countless times, with Xi Su and Chu Han following it religiously.

Then one day, the long-dormant Xie-Yu pairing suddenly climbed the trending charts.

Highlighted comments included:

—”I don’t know what your real relationship is, but I really want to see a Yu Wen who is loved—even if it’s just acting. Could you film a single episode for us? What Song Mingzhu longed for but never attained, if Yu Wen could have it, it would feel like a displaced but perfect resolution.”