The Last X - 75 5.21

As Chen Yu walked past the side hallway where his lover should be waiting, as expected he was pulled into a hot embrace, with his legs trapped between the other man’s. Although it wasn’t unusual for his lover to behave so sticky, the current atmosphere was oddly strained. Tilting his head curiously, Chen Yu glanced sideways to confirm that Sun Ri’s face was scrunched up uncomfortably. Apparently his lover had indeed been eavesdropping, which wasn’t a surprise. What was outside of his predictions was the man’s reaction, he was covered with cold sweat and had an almost gray pallor. It seemed that what he’d told Guo Ziyue had upset him? But the gist of his speech was a rejection, which should be exactly what he’d hoped for.

In fact, Sun Ri wasn’t responding this way due to what Kai had said, which had, on the contrary, initially enlightened him then relieved his fear by confirming that his doll wasn’t interested in the other man anymore. What had stimulated him was instead Guo Ziyue’s posture of abject despair that had followed Kai’s disappearing figure. The instant he’d discerned the man’s lost expression, his muscles became numb, every sensation shooting painfully toward his heart which spasmed as if he himself had experienced an even deeper anguish before. And when Sun Ri clenched his eyes shut to block out the repeated throbbing of his head, that feeling became clearer with the scene which swept past his mind.

As he was attempting to make sense of the vision, however, he sensed that his doll was approaching and immediately pushed aside any stray thoughts. After all, he didn’t care about what might have taken place in the past, as long as he could hold onto Kai now.

But Chen Yu, having noticed that something was wrong, aimed a cool gaze at his lover. Did the man perhaps have feelings left for the protagonist? “Should I apologize?”

At the question, Sun Ri’s already furrowed brow wrinkled further. What did the youth mean? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Actually, Sun Ri wished to finish that scum completely, so he shook his head and carefully suggested, “Why don’t I—”

As if he’d read his mind, the boy who’d been staring at him bluntly interrupted. “Gege, promise you won’t do anything to Guo Ziyue.” Of course, what Chen Yu wanted wasn’t the protagonist’s demise, he was anticipating how that arrogant man, who had taken away what Xiang Kai had lived for, would adjust to realizing how he himself had destroyed the love that he’d been starving for. Thus, the worst Sun Ri should be allowed to do was to restrict his opportunities, just as Guo Ziyue had suppressed the original owner’s, but repeated often enough, that would suffice to show the protagonist his helplessness in the face of a greater power.

Despite his reluctance, Sun Ri was unable to withstand Kai’s adorably serious expression, he agreed not to drag Guo Ziyue to the very pits. Secretly, however, he vowed to shut down any avenue the scum had to recovery, even if he had to pull Sun Jia in.

Reminded of his plan to procure an heir, Sun Ri surreptitiously patted his suit jacket’s chest pocket for the document he constantly carried around and, handing the drink he’d fetched over, escorted Kai to another lounge area.

—

Some time passed, until it was at last the week for Chen Yu’s movie to premiere. Unexpectedly, the scandal had actually ended up helping the film, because after the brief misunderstanding, the apologetic crew worked more efficiently as if to atone, and public interest also grew so that the movie became one of the most anticipated projects of the year.

During this period, Chen Yu had intermittently checked on the protagonist, but once he confirmed that his quota was being filled, he no longer paid much attention. From what he’d observed, it seemed that Guo Ziyue had enough common sense left to accept that Xiang Kai wouldn’t forget everything he’d done and had therefore wallowed in regret for a bit. Reality called, however, the fallout from yet another of his deceptions being exposed was overwhelming, so that he didn’t have time to agonize over his lost relationship for a while.

What exacerbated his situation was that, on top of the contradictions between his own statements, Peng Muzhi, who had long been fired by Fanxing Entertainment Group, eventually sold his version of the story to the gossip magazines for gambling money, causing an even greater fuss. When the dust settled, Guo Ziyue could barely keep one foot in the entertainment circle: he was formally terminated by Fanxing, the few assignments he’d taken on were transferred, and once he stated his identity, it was rare for him to even pass the first round of an audition. Even his last resort of telling Sun Jia’s head about how his guardian, whom he believed to be from a mere side branch, had failed in his duties didn’t yield any results. In fact, the damn old man had mercilessly cut off his support, noting that he was an adult now, a fact that he had amply proved through his videos.

Nevertheless, Guo Ziyue refused to give up. Not only was acting his dream, but also, he had noticed that, despite the conversation they’d held face to face, Kai was still a member in his fan club. ‘Longing_for_the_Moon’ had once promised to accompany him no matter what, which would only be possible if he didn’t quit. The faint hope that Kai might be supporting him from afar motivated him to try harder than ever.

It was while he was encouraging himself in this way, however, that the broadcast of the premiere aired.

What happened at the premiere was merely the public declaration, the real event actually took place a week prior. On that day, Sun Ri had been pacing since he’d entered Kai’s flat, while Chen Yu had watched amusedly, well aware of what the man’s goal was but wondering how he would go about it this time. For an instant, he’d stiffened as he had considered whether something could have happened in reality, then relaxed. Remembering how he’d witnessed for himself the acting skill of the king on several occasions, he found that it was far more likely that most of that nervousness was probably a show Sun Ri was putting on in order to prompt concern.

Since there was no reason to make things quite so easy by cooperating with his play this early, however, Chen Yu merely sat quietly until finally, the text that Sun Ri had been waiting for arrived. Once he read the message, the man’s knees seemed to weaken, so that he coincidentally fell right at Chen Yu’s feet. As if in a daze, he wrapped his arms around the boy’s slender legs and murmured, “Kai, my father…”

Twitching the corners of his lips down in Xiang Kai’s version of a frown, Chen Yu obligingly asked, “What’s wrong?”

Sun Ri lifted his wet gaze, his pale face filled with anxiety. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

Chen Yu nodded despite knowing the information he would confess already, then listened without comment as Sun Ri explained about his family background. At the end, however, he hummed as his lover claimed that his father only had a year to live and that he wished to reconcile by producing a son before the old man passed.

Upon hearing this, Chen Yu raised his eyebrows slightly, asking, “You want to have a baby?” This world wasn’t advanced enough to simply combine their genes in a laboratory, Sun Ri would have to get a third party involved to create a child. Inside his heart, he smiled, if you dare say yes, I’ll castrate you.

As if he sensed the danger, Sun Ri rushed to deny the charge. “No, no, of course not, how could I ever be attracted to anyone except for you? But I did have an idea and it’s all set up…” Hng, Chen Yu sneered, what ‘all set up,’ no doubt he’d pushed it through completely. Unaware that he’d been seen through, Sun Ri continued bravely, “Why don’t I adopt you, and then you can be my heir?”

Feigning surprise, Chen Yu pondered. This was genuinely unexpected. While it was true that M Country didn’t allow gay marriages yet, Sun Jia should be influential enough to change that. So why did his lover want to become a family this way instead?

This point was soon cleared up when Sun Ri coaxed, “You won’t need to do much, just sign here and then review these rules.”

Ah? What rules? Chen Yu skimmed the ‘guidelines’ his lover wanted to impose on his ‘son,’ his face sinking. Seeing the boy’s eyes narrow unhappily, Sun Ri cleared his throat and weakly defended, “Well, you’re still young, Kai, and a son should listen to his father, right?”

A short silence later, however, Sun Ri folded to his doll’s probing stare, he laughed awkwardly and hurried to stuff the papers elsewhere. “Of course it was just a joke, just a joke! You’re doing me a favor already, how could I ask anything more?” That apprehensive face was satisfying enough, so that Chen Yu eventually granted it.

In this way, the adoption that had already been legally processed was accepted by both parties, and Sun Ri’s father had long been informed. While the old man wasn’t pleased by the way his son had exploited the loophole in his condition, he didn’t quibble, because he knew that the stubborn child wouldn’t give in once he’d decided on something. Anyway, the conflict had dragged on too long, and this was a good way to resolve the issue without either of them losing face.

Thus, with the agreement of those involved, the news was announced at their movie’s premiere. Approaching as this bombshell was dropped, Shui Re Dian, who had come to support their film with Lawyer Kuang, gaped at the pair. Had he heard wrong? Why was everyone trying to adopt full-grown men these days? Lawyer Kuang had also insisted on taking him in as a son. Feeling that something else was at work here, Shui Re Dian intensely peered at his cute junior, resolving to ask, but the tall man next to him suddenly cut into his view and instructed, “Don’t stare, it’s impolite.” Although he rolled his eyes, Shui Re Dian also didn’t want to be rude, so he tossed his head and strode forward, leaving Lawyer Kuang to helplessly chase after him.

As for the reporters present, taking into account the king’s sexual orientation, they tacitly understood that, as they’d suspected, the relationship between the two men went beyond friendship, but they simply congratulated them and retreated. The last incident in which they’d dared to write about Xiang Kai had ended in many of their colleagues being demoted or even fired, while the media companies had renewed their determination not to offend the king.

Those fans who listened to the announcement, however, weren’t as tactful. Depending on their stance, their messages directly promoted or criticized the couple. But even the harshest detractors shut up when they watched Chen Yu’s movie, they had to admit that the two were qualified to stand next to each other.

After his second film performance, Xiang Kai gained a huge number of supporters, who suddenly gave him the nickname ‘The Little Prince.’ When one of these fans was asked in an interview about the origin of the name, she smirked and gushed, “Who else would the king guard so tightly? And off camera, the prince also only smiles for the king.”

Stuck in a rundown apartment near the slums, Guo Ziyue burst out into tear-stained laughter as he blankly stared at the reference photograph which the announcer had included after this quote. In the picture, Xiang Kai was directing unusually gentle eyes and a lightly curved mouth toward Sun Ri, who was reaching for him with a tender smile. Falling into a daze, Guo Ziyue thought, perhaps Kai had once looked at him that way too, and he had destroyed that expression himself, for his greed and ego and ambition. A moment later, the screen fizzled out, leaving him to scan how bare the best surroundings he could afford now were. Reminded yet again of how he hadn’t even managed to gain what he’d sacrificed Kai for, how he’d ended up failing in this life as well, he buried his face in his hands, but the tears still slipped between his fingers.