LABMY CH143

After finishing the scene, Chu Caiyang could no longer laugh at Pei Yao, while Pei Yao, beside him, held back his laughter. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Chu Caiyang’s face was full of complicated emotions. Pei Yao found his look of utter defeat hilarious—one glance made him want to laugh, another glance made it impossible to hold back.

This was karma. This was poetic justice.

An hour ago, Chu Caiyang had been the one struggling to suppress his laughter, earnestly “advising” Pei Yao not to insist on adding arrogant lines to the script.

Now, faced with Pei Yao, who was barely holding back his amusement, Chu Caiyang fell into silence.

The crew members around them gave Chu Caiyang strange yet amused looks. Either he would break under this silence, or he would explode from it.

Chu Caiyang looked at Pei Yao. “Stop laughing, Pei Lotus.”

Pei Yao’s smile disappeared instantly, and he replied coldly, “Got it, Chu Sun.”

They exchanged a glance, both feeling embarrassed. Since filming had wrapped for the day, they turned and walked away in opposite directions.

The ever-loyal bodyguard followed behind his employer, concealing both his achievements and identity.

Meanwhile, Chu Caiyang went back to investigate who had invested in “Youth Aspirations”. Despite his high status in the entertainment industry, the film’s director was also a well-known figure. Some requests were difficult to refuse, so he had to find out who had made such a bizarre demand.

Back at the hotel, Pei Yao and Jian Yuanbai browsed Weibo together.

Just as Chu Caiyang had said, the discussions about them were growing more intense. It was obvious that someone was using paid bots to manipulate the narrative.

What had started as fans speculating and obsessing over their relationship had taken a darker turn.

Under the giveaway post from the “Chasing Love! Brother” production team, fans were celebrating like it was a festival.

At first, they were all screaming excitedly, but the tone of the conversation soon took a turn.

• “You guys aren’t actually shipping them, right? That’s disgusting—incest.”
• “This kind of uncle-nephew thing is fine in anime, but in real life? That’s just sick.”
• “Ewww. At first, I was really into their looks, but finding out they’re actually uncle and nephew? No thanks.”
• “Makes me want to throw up.”
• “The bodyguard is poor and has no status. Of course, he’s clinging to Pei Yao like a leech.”
• “The thought of them being uncle and nephew physically repulses me.”
• “Respect? Sorry, I just can’t support this. It’s disgusting.”
• “Their ancestors must be turning over in their graves, ready to claw their way out from sheer rage.”

There were countless similar comments, with many even more vicious, escalating to personal attacks against both Jian Yuanbai and Pei Yao.

Additionally, two groups of people were trying to dig into Jian Yuanbai’s background—though for different reasons, they were doing the same thing. Yet no matter how hard they searched, neither group could find anything.

• “Guys, I looked into Pei Yao’s family tree—his mother never had such a younger brother.”
• “Weird. Jian Yuanbai seems to have come out of nowhere. There’s not a single piece of past information on him.”
• “Is he really an uncle? I have a friend who went to high school with Pei Yao, and they’ve never heard of him having an uncle.”
• “I searched everywhere, and there’s not a single person who knew Jian Yuanbai before. Unbelievable. Is this even the information age?”

The public only knew about Pei Yao’s elegant but tragically deceased mother. Naturally, they knew nothing about Jian Yuanbai’s original sister.

Besides, she wasn’t someone worth remembering—her past wasn’t exactly honorable.

As for Jian Yuanbai’s place of origin, it was deep in the mountains, hidden among towering peaks. The only way in or out was a swaying suspension bridge. There were no roads, no internet, nothing connecting it to the modern world.

Naturally, it was nearly impossible to find anything about Jian Yuanbai’s past.

To Jian Yuanbai, his past in this world truly didn’t exist.

But as he read the heated discussions online, he rubbed his nose and carefully observed Pei Yao’s expression before sincerely admitting, “I shouldn’t have let that slip.”

Pei Yao gave him a complicated look before lowering his head to type a Weibo post.

[Sort of an uncle, but no blood relation.]

For some reason, it no longer surprised him that Jian Yuanbai had caused all this trouble. What surprised him more was that, inexplicably, he hadn’t outright denied the uncle title.

After posting, Pei Yao scrolled through his flood of private messages and let out a sigh.

Jian Yuanbai saw the post and immediately brightened up. He leaned over and kissed the corner of Pei Yao’s lips. “Why the sigh?”

Pei Yao’s ears reddened slightly as he pushed him away a little. “I’ve been trying to contact the person who leaked Wan Yuda’s recording, but they haven’t responded.”

“You know, the one called ‘Sweeping Away Sunspots.’”

Jian Yuanbai paused. “Why are you trying to contact them?”

“If they won’t reply, then so be it. Why sigh over it?”

“They helped me out so much—I should at least thank them properly.” Pei Yao glared at him. “It’s basic manners to thank someone face-to-face.”

Jian Yuanbai smirked and chuckled. “If they’re not responding, it probably means they don’t want to be contacted.”

“Look at their username: ‘Sweeping Away Sunspots.’ Some fans call you ‘Little Sun,’ right? They probably just genuinely wanted to support you.”

Pei Yao sighed helplessly. “Either way, I still appreciate what they did.”

After a brief pause, he added, “Also, can we stop calling me ‘Little Sun’ from now on?”

Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he smirked. “The sun has been claimed by someone else.”

Jian Yuanbai met his gaze, and they both burst into laughter.

The tall, handsome man smiled helplessly yet indulgently. He reached out and flicked Pei Yao’s forehead. “You…”

No one knew that while Jian Yuanbai outwardly played along, laughing at Chu Caiyang’s “Sun” nickname, he had secretly made up his mind—he would never let Pei Yao find out that he was the investor.

If the truth ever came out… well, he would probably die a terrible death.

As the two of them laughed and joked in private, Weibo erupted once again because of Pei Yao’s post.

• “He denied any blood relation, but he didn’t deny they’re together. Let that sink in.”
• “So basically, this is an indirect official announcement.”
• “A forbidden identity, but no actual moral transgression. You guys sure know how to play the game.”
• “‘Sort of an uncle, no blood relation’—so it has the thrill of taboo without the moral condemnation. Tsk tsk tsk.”
• “The pure-hearted bodyguard and the lotus flower film emperor—I’m obsessed!!!”
• “I’m shipping the pure-hearted lotus flower the hardest, and now I get a roundabout official announcement? This is my blessing!!”
• “Who understands? I thought there was no hope five times, but in the end, the pure-hearted lotus flower is real!! Life is full of ups and downs, and then—boom, it takes off!”
• “Next time, don’t be so subtle with your Weibo post. Just drop a kissing photo—we can handle it!!!”

Most people believed Pei Yao’s statement that there was no blood relation, as Pei Yao’s mother indeed didn’t have a younger brother named Jian Yuanbai. Because of this, the public’s attitude toward Pei Yao and Jian Yuanbai’s relationship was quite accepting.

However, while they eagerly waited for Pei Yao’s next Weibo post, what they got instead was a scandal about Pei Yao’s former agency.

Pei Yao took Wan Yuda and Liu Qianli to court. Jian Yuanbai and the lawyers handled the entire case while Pei Yao focused on filming. He didn’t make a big announcement about it, and people only found out through a court Weibo post.

With no way out, Wan Yuda and Liu Qianli turned against their own agency, shifting all the blame onto them. The truth came to light—since Pei Yao’s contract had expired and he had no intention of renewing, the agency had resorted to ruining him out of spite.

The backlash was immediate. The agency suffered on all fronts. Artists who had the means jumped ship, while those who couldn’t were dragged down, losing all exposure. It wasn’t long before the company completely collapsed.

Of course, Jian Yuanbai had a hand in this as well.

But Pei Yao had no idea—he was fully immersed in filming his comeback drama, Youth Aspirations.

That said, the atmosphere on set was getting weirder by the day.

“Screenwriter, screenwriter! Oh great and mighty screenwriter!”

The screenwriter turned around with a dark expression. A minor actor playing Supporting Character No. 3 was grinning at him.

The screenwriter asked, “What do you want?”

The actor held out his script and pointed at a line: “I think we can change this part to—”

“I must fight the world for supremacy!”

“See, my character is also a righteous person with big dreams!”

The screenwriter’s face darkened three more shades. “No. Absolutely not.”

The actor refused to give up, clinging to the screenwriter and chattering on. Before he could finish, another person walked over.

“Why can’t a villain have ambition? That’s not fair. I think my line should be changed too.”

“How about this—’Kill people? For my dream, I’ll slaughter the world!'”

“What do you think, screenwriter? Sounds amazing, right?”

Since they didn’t dare bother the director, everyone targeted the screenwriter instead. The entire crew knew that if they convinced the screenwriter, he would discuss it with the director, meaning there was a chance their lines would be changed.

The screenwriter’s face was as black as the bottom of a pot. Originally, he and the director had only tweaked Pei Yao and Chu Caiyang’s lines to make them sound less abrupt.

But at this rate, the drama shouldn’t even be called Youth Aspirations anymore. These people weren’t just aspiring to the clouds—they were ruling the world.

Might as well rename it The Rise of the Gods.

The one who started the trend of adding overly dramatic lines—Pei Yao—had now grown numb to the “Pei Lotus” nickname. He was even sitting back, enjoying the show as the screenwriter got mobbed.

A bottle of water was handed to him, accompanied by a cool breeze. Jian Yuanbai held a small fan, directing it toward Pei Yao. “How are you? Hot?”

Even though months had passed and the weather was cooling down, they were currently filming winter scenes, which meant heavy layers. It was bound to get hot.

Pei Yao took the water, twisted the cap open, and drank. His eyes curved into a smile. “Not too bad. It’s not that hot.”

“Your scenes are wrapping up soon, right?” Jian Yuanbai abruptly changed the subject.

Pei Yao nodded, visibly more relaxed. “Even though I’m the second male lead, I’m practically the third. My screen time isn’t that heavy. I’ll be done soon.”

Jian Yuanbai smirked and reached out to pinch his earlobe, his gaze deep. “That’s good.”

He leaned in close to Pei Yao’s reddening ear and murmured, voice low and teasing, “I’ve been starving for you for a long time, baby.”

Because Pei Yao was busy filming, Jian Yuanbai had been restraining himself. He knew Pei Yao valued his comeback drama, so he had been considerate enough to never mention certain… unspoken desires.

But kissing alone had long ceased to satisfy a man who watched his beloved every day yet couldn’t have him.

Pei Yao shot to his feet, stumbling over his words. “I-I-I need to check what I need to prepare for my next scene!”

Jian Yuanbai didn’t chase after him. Holding his cute little green fan, his eyes were anything but innocent—they were filled with dark, unreadable hunger.

…

Not far from the filming location, in a restaurant restroom, Jian Yuanbai washed his hands slowly, calculating whether he had prepared everything he needed.

Even though he had gone over it countless times, he had waited too long for this moment.

After washing up, he looked at himself in the mirror. The droplets of water on the glass blurred his reflection. He curled his lips into a smile, and all traces of coldness disappeared. Turning to leave, he ran into an infuriating scene in the hallway.

A middle-aged man, slightly drunk and flushed, was blocking Pei Yao’s way, speaking filthily.

“I’ve wanted to keep you as my plaything for a long time, just never had the chance. You were so stubborn back then, but now you see the benefits of being a kept man, don’t you?”

“Just spend one night with me. One night. That Director Fang? He’s looking for a male lead for his next project. I’ll get you the role.”

“Don’t be ungrateful. If you ignore me now, and you get blacklisted again, it’ll be too late to come crawling back.”

As he spoke, he reached out to grab Pei Yao.

Jian Yuanbai strode forward and punched the man square in the face.

The force sent the man stumbling backward, his nose breaking instantly, blood splattering everywhere.

The alcohol drained from the man’s system in an instant. Shocked and in pain, he stammered, “Y-you—who the hell are you?! Do you know who I am?! How dare you hit me?!”

Jian Yuanbai looked down at him, expression cold. “Just Pei Yao’s bodyguard.”

“I’ve been on the job for so long—thank you for giving me my first opportunity to actually do my duty.”

Though he said “thank you,” his eyes were terrifyingly cold. He cracked his knuckles and stepped forward.

The middle-aged man clutched his bleeding nose and backed away in fear. “What do you want?! I’m the president of Star-Maker Entertainment! I’ll ruin both you and Pei Yao!”

“Oh?” Jian Yuanbai chuckled without warmth. “From today on, Star-Maker Entertainment no longer exists.”

“I said so.”

The system, watching this unfold, silently clicked its tongue. Jian Yuanbai has been completely brainwashed by Long Aotian protagonist lines. Completely. Utterly.

Jian Yuanbai grabbed Pei Yao with one hand and the middle-aged man by his collar with the other, dragging him like a dead dog into the restroom.

Before stepping in, he even placed a “Under Maintenance” sign at the door.

The man struggled but couldn’t break free. Terrified, he shouted, “What are you doing?! You wouldn’t dare—”

Jian Yuanbai blocked the drain, turned on the faucet, and dunked the man’s head into the sink.

“Since you’re drunk, let me help you sober up.”

Then he pressed down.

The man thrashed, water splashing everywhere, but no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t escape the suffocating grip.

After repeating the process several times, Jian Yuanbai asked again with a blank expression, “Sober now?”

The suffocating sensation, the feeling of being close to death, had the middle-aged man’s face covered in tears, snot, and blood as he frantically nodded. “Sober! I’m completely sober!”

Jian Yuanbai tossed him aside, washed his hands clean, and only then did he walk over, wrapping an arm around the dazed Pei Yao to leave.

Today was supposed to be a celebration of Pei Yao finishing his scenes.

Pei Yao seemed drunk, wobbling as he walked, his face flushed red. Jian Yuanbai, a little annoyed, pinched his nose. “You got this drunk and still ran off.”

The person in his arms shook his head uncomfortably, his eyes watery, lips pouting in grievance. “I needed to use the bathroom.”

Then he muttered about how full he was.

Jian Yuanbai, feeling mischievous, pressed his stomach. Pei Yao let out an abrupt, soft whimper, his beautiful face turning red with embarrassment and anger. “H-Hand off!”

After bringing him home, Pei Yao, relying on memory, stumbled toward the bathroom, completely unaware that the man behind him had followed.

Even in his drunken state, Pei Yao still felt a deep sense of shame, nearly breaking down. “Get out!”

Jian Yuanbai, with a serious and upright expression, said, “You’re drunk and unsteady. I’ll help you.”

Help?

How?

Pei Yao, slightly dazed, quickly got his answer—but his mental collapse only intensified a hundredfold. “Let go—mmph! Let, let go!”

Jian Yuanbai, utterly wicked, bent down slightly, rested his chin on Pei Yao’s shoulder, looked down, and chuckled. “Still pink. My wife is so cute.”

“Shut up!!!”

Pei Yao’s already muddled brain seemed to explode into fireworks. His face was flushed to the extreme, completely breaking down.

Everything took on a hazy blur in his intoxicated state. He forgot how he got out of the bathroom, forgot when exactly the wicked man teasing him had kissed him.

The flowing water washed away the alcohol scent, cascading down his body. But there was another slippery, near-liquid warmth that was being pressed into him.

The startled fish thrashed its tail in panic, its tiny mouth silenced, caught in the grip of a persistent fisherman who seemed intent on making it a drunken feast, pouring sauce into its mouth.

Despite being surrounded by water, the fish suffered. It felt as if it had been stranded on a shallow shore, its smooth body exposed under the glaring sun, unable to hide—completely laid bare for the world to see.

Just looking at it was enough to imagine its freshness.

The water’s temperature grew hotter and hotter. In this boiling sea, even the cook found himself drenched in sweat, his sculpted arms tightening around the struggling fish. His entire body pressed down, sinking slightly.

A deep sigh later, a drop of sweat fell. The near-drowned fish let out a silent cry, its eyes widening as crystalline tears rolled from the corners—only to be carried away by the rushing water.

The wind stirred ripples. Though the weather outside was chilly autumn, inside the house, a spring breeze seemed to have blown in. The occasional sob and the creaking of the bed frame composed a symphony of spring.

Satisfied from his indulgence, Jian Yuanbai opened a red velvet box from the cabinet. A beautiful platinum ring slid onto a fair, slender finger. Its owner, however, had long since succumbed to exhaustion and fallen into deep sleep.

Jian Yuanbai drifted into slumber, content.

When he woke up, the bed beside him was empty.

Taking a walk around the house, he found it eerily quiet—no sign of Pei Yao.

Jian Yuanbai was dumbfounded. His wife—so beautiful, so amazing, the very one who had just taken his virginity—where was he?!!

The joy of having finally eaten his wife evaporated upon waking, replaced with a deep, sulky frustration.

He found his phone, which he had tossed onto the couch last night, and dialed Pei Yao.

The line rang a few times before getting mercilessly hung up.

Three points of grievance instantly turned into a hundred and twenty thousand. Jian Yuanbai slumped onto the couch, pouting like a scolded kitten, and started texting his wife.

[Wife??]

[Where did you go?]

[Why aren’t you answering my calls?]

There was no response.

Jian Yuanbai called again—this time, it was rejected even faster.

Staring at the screen, he confirmed one thing: Pei Yao had seen his messages but was deliberately ignoring him.

Jian Yuanbai’s heart skipped a beat. He suddenly sat upright, his face darkening, fingers typing furiously:

[Wife, you’re not going to take my precious virginity and then abandon me, are you?]

[I know, it was my first time, so maybe my skills weren’t great. I’ll work hard, wife.]

[Was three times not enough for you, wife? I can do seven!]

Hiding away in a hotel with his sore and aching body, Pei Yao’s face grew darker and darker. Unable to hold back anymore, he replied:

[Get lost! If you go seven times, your wife will die!]

Jian Yuanbai hadn’t even had time to celebrate the fact that his wife finally replied before another message from Pei Yao popped up:

[That dating show Chase Love, Brother! and Youth Aspirations —are you the investor?]

Jian Yuanbai’s expression stiffened. He silently deleted the message he was editing, pondered for a long time, and carefully sent back a vague response:

[Wife, what are you talking about?]

A giant red exclamation mark coldly mocked the man who had happily eaten his wife one night, only to be abandoned the next morning.

Pei Yao huffed angrily and flopped onto the hotel’s soft bed.

Last night, he had been drunk—but not so drunk that he lost all awareness.

That big-shot producer had told him he was being kept by the Obsidian Investment Company’s boss. That both the dating show and Youth Aspirations had been funded by Obsidian’s Boss Jian.

He even mocked that Obsidian’s registered owner wasn’t the real owner. Said he only knew the inside story because his nephew worked there—otherwise, he wouldn’t have found out about Pei Yao being “kept.”

Jian Yuanbai had arrived too fast, and before Pei Yao could ask any questions, that big-shot producer had already been dragged off and beaten up.

Last night, Pei Yao had been too out of it to process everything, but in the middle of the night, as they… did things, his drunkenness faded, and the more he thought about it, the more something felt off.

How could it be such a coincidence that he and Jian Yuanbai were both invited to a dating show?

So all those fancy words—about being a “pure lotus,” about “ascending to the divine altar,” about “illuminating the world with his brilliance”—they were all requests made by Jian Yuanbai!!!

The more Pei Yao thought about it, the angrier he got. He was both embarrassed and furious, and in the end, he simply blocked Jian Yuanbai’s phone number.

He was going to run away from home!!

For a whole month!

After a long moment, the young man lying in bed rolled over, hesitating.

Maybe… half a month would do.

Seven days? Seven days sounded fine too.

Or maybe just three days… three days should be enough.

Ding-dong!

A notification popped up from his Weibo special follow list.

Pei Yao swiped open the notification bar, and as soon as he saw the message, he sat up abruptly—only for a sharp soreness in his waist to make him suck in a cold breath. But he couldn’t care about that now.

That person he had been wanting to thank—the one named Sweeping Away Sunspots—had sent him a message.

Pei Yao clicked it open, his expression turning complicated.

It was unexpected, but somehow, it made perfect sense.

[Sweeping Away Sunspots: Wife, I was wrong.]

For a moment, Pei Yao’s expression softened—until he saw the next message, and his face immediately darkened again.

[Sweeping Away Sunspots: Considering that I gave you my precious virginity last night, hear me out, wife.]

Pei Yao, fuming, pounded at his keyboard with enough force to strain his knuckles.

[Your virginity isn’t precious at all!!!]

The three exclamation marks fully conveyed his emotions. Pei Yao was so mad he could explode.

He furiously typed another message:

[Who says I’m not a virgin too!!!]

He was the one who had been tricked into getting thoroughly devoured while still dazed!