Deep in the Act: Chapter 41

Zhang Zhun had showered and was lying in bed, boredly flipping through channels. It was almost midnight and Zhen Xin still hadn’t come back. He couldn’t say why, but his mind was in complete turmoil. Zhen Xin wouldn’t say anything out of line, he knew that. But their current relationship had made him timid, like walking on a tightrope, or standing at the edge of a cliff. One tiny misstep and he would fall into ruin beyond redemption.

His phone rang and he jumped. The caller ID showed Xiao Deng. He felt guilty and didn’t dare answer. The call ended, then quickly rang again. By the third time it rang, he picked up, and the other side roared right away, “Ge, where are you!”

“I…” Zhang Zhun thought about it. “Not at the hotel.”

The line went quiet. Very quiet. Not a single sound. Slowly, he heard Xiao Deng’s ragged breathing. “Ge,” he said. “If you’re at the Grand Hyatt, whatever you do, don’t come out. Don’t answer calls from numbers you don’t know.”

Zhang Zhun’s nerves immediately tensed up. “What’s going on?”

“Zhen Xin…” Before he could finish, someone called Xiao Deng’s name. The surroundings seemed to grow noisy, and the call cut off.

Zhang Zhun knew he couldn’t call back. His first reaction was to call Zhen Xin. He called several times but no one answered. Something had happened. This situation forced him to think the worst. He grabbed the remote and frantically flipped through every channel from beginning to end. Probably because it was midnight, there were no live entertainment programs. He sat blankly for a while, then got out of bed to get dressed.

He was dressed but still didn’t know what to do. His phone rang again. Sure enough, it was an unfamiliar number. He held his head and waited for the ringing to pass. When this round ended, the next round began. It went on for about an hour before gradually subsiding.

In that hour he thought about many things. The most likely possibility was that Zhen Xin had let something slip. But he understood Zhen Xin, that was someone who wouldn’t say the wrong thing… Coming out publicly? When this phrase entered his mind, he really broke out in a cold sweat. “It’s over” was his only thought. His career, his family, the life he had worked so hard for, all ruined.

He unlocked his phone and opened the browser. His fingers trembling, he typed “Zhen Xin,” but didn’t press search. Then he typed “Zhang Zhun.” This was the first time he had put the two names together. He clicked confirm, and the results were shocking. “Film emperor Zhen Xin has on set affair, the third party is actually the same sex?”

“Zhen Xin and Zhang Zhun fell in love through filming? Matching couple earrings on left ears!”

After several trending topics came Baidu Zhidao. The newest questions were all things like “Can someone tell me who the hell Zhang Zhun is, is he riding our Lord Zhen’s coattails to get ahead,” “Zhen Xin isn’t gay right, oh my god my world is crumbling,” “A man spreading gay rumors to get ahead, so fucking disgusting, someone dox this Zhun or whatever his name is!”

Zhang Zhun covered his mouth. His throat tasted metallic and nauseous. He endured it and scrolled with his finger. The source of the leak was Weibo, posted by a verified member with the ID Sun Entertainment. He suddenly remembered, it was those people at the hotel restaurant that day.

The Weibo post itself was only a few short words, with nine attached images below. Zhen Xin’s was clearly taken on site with a phone just now. Zhang Zhun’s were old photos, some from TV drama press conferences, some from events he attended. The common point was that he was wearing that little fish earring in all of them. The last image was an enlarged comparison of both their left ears.

Zhang Zhun couldn’t remember for the life of him whether he had been wearing the little fish earring at the restaurant that day. Actually it didn’t matter anymore. The paparazzi’s powers of observation, imagination, and action completely exceeded his imagination. He had always just been a small time actor, not a big star. Under related topics, tonight’s interview clips had already leaked out. He randomly clicked on one, and Zhen Xin’s face appeared.

“What Feng Yunting said isn’t true,” he tilted his head slightly, looking at the reporter from beneath his curly bangs. “I’m facing the media with only one thing to say, which is that I was the one who broke up with her, not her.”

The reporters erupted. Someone immediately asked, “Teacher Zhen, are you trying to protect Feng Yunting?” Whether intentionally or not, this gave Zhen Xin an opportunity to build a good man image. “Actually you two still have feelings?”

Zhen Xin was about to answer when someone suddenly held up a phone, with a Sun Entertainment sticker on the sleeve. “Teacher Zhen!”

Zhang Zhun’s heart clenched. Only at this moment did he realize that compared to his own fear just now, what hurt him most was having Zhen Xin face questioning in public.

“Please fellow journalists, take a look at Weibo. Our Sun Entertainment’s latest scoop. The inside story of Zhen Xin and Feng Yunting’s breakup. The great film emperor is trapped in same sex desire and can’t extricate himself!”

The video camera began to shake. Clearly all the media outlets were opening their phones to check Weibo. No one was paying attention to Zhen Xin on stage. Only Zhang Zhun stared at him intently. No matter how blurry or shaky, he knew, he was afraid.

Zhen Xin couldn’t look at his phone. He was very clear headed. Looking would be the same as admitting guilt. The reporters grew restless. In the middle there was a brief silence, like the abnormal retreat of the tide before a tsunami arrives. Zhen Xin recalled without showing anything on his face. Probably photos had been taken. Was it that kiss in the alley that he couldn’t help? Or just stills carelessly leaked from the production… The questioning exploded. “Teacher Zhen, is it true! You broke up because of filming a gay movie? Is Feng Yunting the victim!”

Zhen Xin smiled innocently, with some sarcastic flavor. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

The reporters flipped their phone screens toward him one after another. In just a moment’s daze, Zhou Zheng arrived with people from the production crew. While blocking the media, they escorted Zhen Xin toward the elevator. The news footage ended here.

Before Zhang Zhun could even exhale in relief, the video was interrupted by an incoming call interface. The big characters “Zhen Xin.” He quickly answered, “Hello!”

There was no sound on the other side for a long time. Zhang Zhun also said nothing. They stayed like this for over three minutes. Then a sigh came through the receiver hole. Zhen Xin said wearily, “I have a bit of a situation here…”

“How are you?” Zhang Zhun asked urgently.

Zhen Xin seemed surprised by this question. “I’m… fine,” he sounded a bit more spirited. “Xiao Deng said he called you,” he seemed to be walking, probably in his room. “The problem is the earrings. I got too cocky.”

Hearing his voice, Zhang Zhun relaxed, lying back on the big bed. The ceiling light was somehow so glaring. Tears blurred his vision and he wiped them away in frustration.

“It’s fine,” Zhen Xin said. He seemed to have climbed onto the bed too. You could hear the creaking of the mattress. “My manager arrives tomorrow, going straight to the Grand Hyatt,” he seemed to have pulled the quilt over his head, muffled, speaking softly. “Xiao Deng and I will come over a bit later.”

Zhang Zhun rolled over and also burrowed into the quilt. Like Zhen Xin thirty eight floors away across two streets, he lowered his voice in the pitch darkness. “Can we… not hang up the phone?”

The other side went quiet, then clumsily said, “Actually… I downloaded WeChat, but I don’t know how to use it.”

“I’ll teach you,” Zhang Zhun’s two feet stuck out from under the quilt, like a fool with his head tucked in. “In the find people section, enter my phone number.”

Zhen Xin’s manager indeed arrived early. Her surname was Li, a woman in her forties, wearing glasses, with a severe short haircut, unremarkable clothing, but a very stern demeanor. When she entered, Zhang Zhun checked his watch. It wasn’t even five o’clock. She must have flown overnight from Taiwan. After shaking hands, she said nothing and sat on the small sofa taking calls. About half an hour passed before Xiao Deng and Zhen Xin arrived.

Zhang Zhun greeted them like someone being rescued. Xiao Deng had bought breakfast, but no one could eat. After brief greetings, it was like a negotiation or a confrontation. The four of them sat two on each side, on the sofa and the corner of the bed.

“The scoop itself isn’t a big deal,” Ms. Li got straight to the point. “Without real evidence, any random excuse can cover it up. But same sex rumors, that’s something we can’t swallow.”

These words carried some blame, like an elder scolding a child who had caused trouble. Xiao Deng immediately picked up. “Senior, it’s the same on our side.”

“Right now, the script has already been written,” Ms. Li ignored him completely, instead glancing at Zhang Zhun with some curiosity. “Our crisis PR team is already muddying the waters behind the scenes. You just need to step forward and clarify.”

Xiao Deng frowned. “Why is it us who have to clarify?”

“Come on, you’re not paying money, can’t you even lend your voice?”

Zhang Zhun felt humiliated by her words. The muscles in his jaw twitched painfully. Zhen Xin sat across from him and saw this. “Actually it doesn’t matter who clarifies, I…”

“Take off the earrings!” Ms. Li cut him off with a sideways remark. Only then did Zhang Zhun notice that Zhen Xin was still wearing that little fish earring. He looked at him with infatuated longing. Zhen Xin also looked back at him boldly. They were so close, yet couldn’t say a single intimate word to each other.

Their eye contact lasted only an instant, but it was still too emotional and too obvious. Ms. Li was sitting right there, how could she not see? Zhang Zhun quickly lowered his head. Just then his phone rang. It was Xie Danyi calling. He took the opportunity to step aside to answer.

“I only saw the news this morning,” she said lightly on the other end. You could tell she was forcing herself to stay calm. “How are you?”

Ms. Li and Xiao Deng were arguing fiercely. Zhang Zhun was afraid she would hear and slightly covered the microphone hole. “We’re discussing who will come forward.”

With such loud arguing, Xie Danyi had already heard. “Zhen Xin’s manager is Li Lingli right? Give her the phone.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about this.” Zhang Zhun hung up and sat back on the edge of the bed. Zhen Xin looked at him inquiringly, but he avoided his gaze.

Before long Li Lingli’s phone rang. She hadn’t wanted to answer, but her back and forth with Xiao Deng had reached a stalemate. Also to break the rhythm, she picked up. “Oh oh, Danyi, right, we met at Tracy’s party.” After listening for a while, she looked at Zhang Zhun in surprise. “I see, good, of course that’s no problem, we also hope to resolve this quickly.”

Putting down the phone, she raised a satisfied smile. “Little Zhang,” she said to Zhang Zhun. “Your girlfriend is willing to come forward and clarify. This is good for you and good for us.”

Zhang Zhun immediately wanted to object. This kind of thing, why should Xie Danyi step up? Before he could open his mouth, Zhen Xin spoke first, with a lazy nasal tone. “This kind of thing, why should she step up?”

They were of one mind. What one said was exactly what the other was thinking. Zhang Zhun stared at him in disbelief, watching him continue calmly. “She’s an outsider. My problem, I’ll clarify it myself.”

Li Lingli threw something. She threw the landline phone. “Clarify? The moment you show your face you’ll be stamped!” The phone fell to the floor, the receiver flipped over, and you could hear the rapid busy signal. “I brought you into the business when you were a teenager, not so you could crash and burn in your thirties!”

Her momentum was too strong, so strong that for a moment no one dared make a sound. Zhen Xin lowered his head in frustration. Zhang Zhun stared at him blankly. Li Lingli stood up. “Xiao Deng,” she pulled out a card. “Help me book a room. Zhen Xin isn’t going back for now. I’ll call the production crew.”

“Senior,” Xiao Deng took it. “Should I book one for you too?”

“No,” Li Lingli sighed, finally showing the weariness appropriate for her age. “There’s still business in Taiwan. I’m leaving at noon.”

The two adjacent rooms were both booked out. Xiao Deng got the one diagonally across. Zhen Xin and Li Lingli left. The big room seemed empty and hollow. Even the rustling of plastic bags sounded lonely. “Ge, eat something?” Xiao Deng said.

Zhang Zhun shook his head and weakly picked up his phone. In one night, it had already reached the point where fake news was flying everywhere. Xiao Deng didn’t want him to look. “Ge, get some sleep.”

Zhang Zhun still opened Weibo. All kinds of scoops flooded the screen. There was a certain Mr. claiming to be a veteran Taiwan media insider, swearing to reveal that Zhen Xin was bisexual, listing a so called “ex boyfriend” list. Zhang Zhun couldn’t be bothered to click. He was clearly exhausted, yet couldn’t stop scrolling down. Next came news about him, from a certain verified fitness coach. I was on the same martial arts team as Zhang Zhun. Back then he was already interested in guys. When we went to the bathroom and showered together, his eyes often looked downward. That kind of very eager and seductive look, you know what I mean! I wasn’t in the same dorm as him. I heard it from his roommates, just heard it, I never saw it myself. In the dorm he was messing around with other guys, anyway he’s a very messed up person!

The Weibo post ended with the blogger’s phone number and gym information, plus the line “Welcome to call/visit for inquiries.” The profile picture was a photo of himself, wearing boxing shorts and showing off his muscles. Zhang Zhun looked and looked, but didn’t recognize him.

“They’re making up stuff with no basis at all, what are you looking at that for!” Xiao Deng spoke with a complaining tone, but Zhang Zhun knew he was heartbroken for him. “Hey hey Deng Zicheng, look at this one, it says Zhen Xin and I have been in love for years!”

He spoke like he was joking. Xiao Deng understood too. His ge was putting on a brave face. “So what,” he grabbed some bread and sat down next to Zhang Zhun. “Last night around midnight I got a call, it was for an endorsement deal. I was wondering what it was about, turns out it was Danlan Net.”

“What’s Danlan Net?”

Xiao Deng’s two cheeks were puffed out, chewing hard. “China’s biggest gay website.”

Zhang Zhun looked like he was choking. He digested this for a long time before turning back to look at the post. This fake rumor was crafted beautifully. It said he and Zhen Xin fell in love during “Galloping Horse.” The post used the phrase “heavenly thunder stirring earthly fire.” A carefully guarded underground romance. By the time they co starred in “North High Peak,” the two were deliberately avoiding each other, which is why the media didn’t even have a single photo of them together. The blogger had thoughtfully included images, old set photos from long ago. Zhang Zhun immediately spotted the umbrella held over Zhen Xin’s head.

It was truly such a beautiful lie, so beautiful that Zhang Zhun almost wanted to believe it. Xiao Deng’s phone dinged just then. It was a text from Xie Danyi saying the interview clip was already online.

He clicked the link. It was a Youku video, posted by Tiandu Entertainment. Xie Danyi had her hair down, wearing nothing more than a simple white T shirt. You could tell the weather in Guangdong was still hot. “Hello everyone.” She greeted gently.

He didn’t know why, but seeing her again, Zhang Zhun felt an urge to cry. In the video she clarified the whole matter, explaining Zhang Zhun’s sexual orientation, explaining the earrings were just a production crew thing. When asked about the relationship between Zhang Zhun and Zhen Xin, she said, “They don’t really have any relationship. I know when filming ‘North High Peak,’ they didn’t even talk to each other. At most… they could be considered colleagues.”

The reporter asked if there was anything she wanted to say to Zhang Zhun through the camera. She smiled embarrassedly and said in Cantonese, “Mr. Zhang, come back after you finish filming. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

The video ended, but Zhang Zhun’s guilt couldn’t end. Tears dripped down his chin. Xiao Deng wanted to distract him, waving his phone. “Ge look, Zhen Xin’s side has very capable water armies. More and more people are cursing the production crew for hyping things up!”

The doorbell suddenly rang. After just one ring it turned into banging. Xiao Deng looked through the peephole. Sure enough, it was Zhen Xin.

“You’re crazy!” He opened the door. Zhen Xin pushed his way in, heading straight for Zhang Zhun sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey!” Xiao Deng tried to stop him, but he rushed to Zhang Zhun’s face. Without saying a word, he hugged him, like hugging something about to vanish, so tight and so forceful.

“Holy hell!” Xiao Deng got scared and quickly closed the door. When he turned back after shutting it, Zhang Zhun’s two slender arms were already wrapped around Zhen Xin’s back. Zhen Xin’s back was collapsed, his head hanging down, squirming.

They were kissing. Xiao Deng didn’t know if he was afraid or disgusted. He quickly turned to face the door, glaring hatefully at the door panel, and punched it, cursing, “Fuck me!”