Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 10

Chu Muyun figured that acting alongside Luo Yi would guarantee massive publicity for their new drama upon its release. Exposure was exactly what he needed.

“You’ve got a good attitude,” Jin Ming remarked. “Even without this controversial role, you’d inevitably face backlash from Luo Yi’s fans. And given your history with him…”

After taking on Chu Muyun as his client, Jin Ming had naturally checked his Weibo. Chu Muyun rarely engaged online, having posted only a handful of messages. Each one had been swarmed by haters who controlled the comments with insults and harassment—a truly pitiful sight. Jin Ming quickly grasped the situation.

The incident itself wasn’t major, but fans held grudges. When old scores were dredged up, it would undoubtedly trigger a bloody storm.

Luo Yi hadn’t produced any noteworthy work in recent years, showing signs of fading into obscurity. Yet his marketing budget remained lavish, and he continued to grace red carpets. His fans, however, remained fiercely loyal—perhaps even more so due to his lack of achievements, leaving them nothing better to do than wage online wars.

Chu Muyun chuckled, “After being vilified for two years, what’s there to fear?”

As the Demon Consort, he’d seen far worse. People had even made voodoo dolls to curse him, a fate that befell them over a thousand years ago when the Great King had them torn apart by chariots.

“Alright. If you’re determined, let’s take a gamble,” Jin Ming agreed.

This was too good an opportunity to pass up. If handled well, and Chu Muyun delivered a strong performance, a single drama could catapult him from an unknown 18th-tier nobody into the public eye, landing him within the top three tiers—a meteoric rise.

The price? He might have to walk the path of infamy for a long time.

But Chu Muyun didn’t mind, so why should Jin Ming? After all, he wasn’t the one who would be vilified.

After discussing the script, they parted ways. Jin Ming emailed the script to Chu Muyun, instructing him to review it and find his rhythm before filming began.

Meanwhile, in the president’s office of Huashi Building, Zhou Wei stared incredulously at the man before him. Lu Hanzhang sat calmly on the sofa in the reception area, exuding an air of authority that made him seem more like the owner of this place than Zhou Wei himself.

“You want to acquire Huashi?! Am I the last to find out? Cousin, how could you do this to me? Don’t you know Huashi is the company my old man gave me to cut my teeth on? If I sell it, what will he think? How am I supposed to inherit the family business later? Is this really necessary? We just had a bad year with two flops, and our cash flow is a little tight. One more hit drama, and we’ll be back on track. You’re not even giving me a chance!”

Even if Zhou Wei, Huashi’s major shareholder, refused the acquisition now, it wouldn’t matter. Lu Hanzhang had already secured the support of the other shareholders at the board meeting. The acquisition was a done deal, Huashi’s rebranding was just a matter of time.

What infuriated Zhou Wei even more was that the Lu Clan’s offer was 30% lower than his minimum acceptable price!

God, is this even human? he thought. To lowball his own cousin when I’m already down on my luck?

Unlike the frantic Zhou Wei, Lu Hanzhang remained calm, his voice cold, “I suggest you inherit the Zhou Family business by withdrawing ten million annually as pocket money, leaving the group’s operations to professional managers. That’s the greatest contribution you can make to the Zhou Family.”

“I… you… goddamn it…” If anyone else had said that Zhou Wei would have punched him in the face.

But he couldn’t afford to provoke Lu Hanzhang, not even in a fight.

His body, worn out from nightly revelry, was no match for Lu Hanzhang’s disciplined physique. Besides, if he dared lay a finger on Lu Hanzhang, his own father would drag him by the ear to apologize in person.

This is infuriating, utterly infuriating, Zhou Wei lamented inwardly.

Behind Lu Hanzhang’s back, he mockingly called him “Crown Prince,” partly to ridicule his youthful arrogance, but sometimes he genuinely felt there was an insurmountable gap between Lu Hanzhang and ordinary mortals like himself.

In ancient times, Lu Hanzhang would have been a Crown Prince or Emperor, while he himself would have been nothing more than a useless, dissolute noble son…

Chu Muyun nestled into the luxurious cream-colored leather sofa in his new home, a mug of warm milk beside him, and began reading the script for the urban romance BL adaptation, Misaligned, on his tablet.

He still took his acting career seriously.

Although he now had the Great King’s backing and was suspected of being a “resource-backed” actor destined for stardom, he had a feeling his next role would be his breakthrough.

Signing with StarJoy felt like a fresh start.

That evening, he remembered to send Lu Hanzhang a “Good night” message. He resolved to make it a daily habit, morning and night.

And whenever the mood struck, he’d pester him, too.

Hehe, Great King, your Little Demon Consort is quite clingy~

Lu Hanzhang, working late at the Lu Clan headquarters, saw the “Good night” notification pop up on WeChat. His expression softened.

He replied: [Good night.]

Is Chu Muyun already going to bed at this hour? His sleep schedule is surprisingly healthy.

He resumed his work. A while later, the rabbit profile picture on WeChat lit up with a new message: [Can’t sleep. What should I do? Little rabbit twiddling its paws.jpg]

Lu Hanzhang patiently replied: [How about putting on some relaxing music?]

His message appeared simultaneously with Chu Muyun’s next one: [Why don’t we video call and sleep together? Watching your abs will definitely help me drift off peacefully!]

Lu Hanzhang, “…..”

He couldn’t believe he was actually giving Chu Muyun serious advice. He laughed at his own foolishness.

[Go to sleep. One more word and you’re blocked.]

[Okay, I’ll shut up qwq I’m going to sleep now. Let’s meet in our spring dreams!]

Chu Muyun’s soft, teasing tone still blatantly flirted with him. Lu Hanzhang felt a pang of guilt, his cheeks flushing. If he looked in a mirror, he’d see the tips of his ears were crimson.

He had indeed had spring dreams about Chu Muyun. Ever since their first encounter at the Regent Hotel that night, they’d recurred more than once.

The man he embraced tightly, the one he tangled with in bed, had always been Chu Muyun.

It was as if the very shape of his desires was molded in Chu Muyun’s image.

Meanwhile, in his bedroom, Chu Muyun huffed and angrily punched his pillow.

Lu Hanzhang is just too innocent! When will I ever get to eat the Great King?!

He considered stealing the Great King’s underwear to sew into a voodoo doll—no, to cuddle while he slept. That way, he could drift off enveloped in the Great King’s scent.

Before bed, Chu Muyun read another fanfic about him and the Great King on the forum to help him fall asleep.

He was a high-ranking member of the Tyrant x Demon Consort forum, practically an elder. To the other fujoshi, he was a legendary figure—someone who didn’t write fanfics himself but possessed unparalleled historical knowledge, likely a history professor.

Some fujoshi wrote alternate universe stories, like modern-day tales of domineering CEOs, forced marriages, or stepmother humiliation. Others stuck to historical accuracy, discussing writing challenges in the chat section. Chu Muyun would often chime in with answers. After all, no one knew that era’s unofficial history, court titles, daily life, customs, or even the local flora and fauna better than him—the man who had lived through it all.

But his favorite part was always the smut.

Some of the more extreme scenarios made him wince. Even at his most ferocious during lovemaking, the Great King would never treat him like that.

Tonight’s bedtime story was perfect. Hehe, we’ve actually used toys like that before…

Satisfied, Chu Muyun drifted off to sleep.

I promised to meet the Great King in my dreams, and I never break a promise!