Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 55

Each episode of Misaligned lasted forty minutes. After watching one, Chu Muyun asked, “What are your thoughts?”

“If you weren’t in it, it wouldn’t be worth watching,” Lu Hanzhang said bluntly. “But with you, I could watch it repeatedly.”

He turned to his assistant and instructed him to find someone to edit a version featuring only Chu Muyun.

“Hmm, the plot is quite cliché…” Chu Muyun wasn’t surprised by his response.

He squeezed Lu Hanzhang’s hand, carefully considering his next words. After a moment of rare seriousness, he began, “You know, the year I took the college entrance exams, I auditioned for the Beijing Film Academy. The teachers were very impressed with my performance, but they couldn’t explicitly tell candidates they’d passed. Instead, they gave hints. When they hinted to me, they said, ‘It would be a waste to keep a face like yours off the big screen. It would be a loss for the audience.’ I’ve remembered those words ever since, and I’ve always wanted to capture my best self on film. But after entering the entertainment industry, I never got a good opportunity and nearly quit, until I met you.”

His eyes sparkled as he gazed at the man before him.

“Your former manager is about to be sentenced,” Lu Hanzhang said. “I’ve made sure he won’t get less than ten years. The powerful figures he was involved with are still under investigation.”

“Good! He deserves it!” Chu Muyun’s eyes curved into a smile. “Let’s not talk about him anymore. Thanks to you, I now have so many opportunities to leave behind all sorts of roles on screen. Years from now, when I’m old, I can look back and relive these memories…”

“What… exactly are you trying to say?” Lu Hanzhang asked. “I’ve never objected to any script you’ve chosen, and none of the productions you’ve joined have ever lacked funding.”

Chu Muyun knew Lu Hanzhang was exceptionally perceptive. A man who had once ruled a nation and now managed a vast conglomerate was undoubtedly intelligent.

“Why don’t you guess?” Chu Muyun played with Lu Hanzhang’s hand. “There’s this film I really want to make, but unfortunately, we can’t find an actor willing to play the lead. It requires a lot of intimate scenes and intense emotional performances, so we can’t proceed…”

Lu Hanzhang fell silent. Chu Muyun continued, “Would you consider it? There’s no rush for an answer. I can wait patiently.”

Given Lu Hanzhang’s personality, he was reluctant to appear on camera. Even when interviewed by financial magazines, he refused to be photographed, never showing his face in public. Nowadays, many entrepreneurs personally engage in marketing, like CEO Lei Jun, famous for his “Are you OK?” catchphrase.

If Lu Hanzhang wanted to, as the young, wealthy, and powerful head of the Lu Clan, President of Huating—a top-tier brand followed by the entire internet—and standing at an impressive 1.88 meters with striking good looks, he could easily become a top-tier internet sensation in minutes.

Countless women would dream of him as their ideal lover, and his Weibo DMs would overflow with marriage proposals from men and women fantasizing about instant success.

But he refused to engage in marketing, let alone act in a movie…

Chu Muyun knew Lu Hanzhang wouldn’t agree immediately. He was merely planting a seed in his heart, hoping that by occasionally mentioning it and nurturing it, it might one day take root and sprout.

Lu Hanzhang understood. At first, he thought Chu Muyun was worried about his jealousy and wanted to ask who his co-star would be. But then he realized Chu Muyun was referring to him.

He wanted to reject the idea outright, but after opening his mouth, he finally said, “I’ll consider it.”

“Great!”

Chu Muyun shifted to sit on Lu Hanzhang’s lap, wrapped his arms around him, and gave him a quick kiss.

The television, still blaring with noise, was switched off. In the sudden silence, the sound of passionate kissing filled the room.

Afterward, Lu Hanzhang stripped off Chu Muyun’s jacket and sweater, revealing a linen shirt underneath. His breathing grew heavy. This shirt closely resembled the one Chu Muyun wore in the promotional photos from the Misaligned production crew—the very photo he had stroked himself to countless times in the dead of night.

Under the soft glow of the night lamp, the linen fabric appeared creamy-white, soft and sweet, clinging to Chu Muyun’s slender, alluring body.

“You’re dressed just like your character in the show,” Lu Hanzhang murmured hoarsely.

“Yeah, the premiere’s today,” Chu Muyun replied. “It’s kind of a ritual, right?”

Lu Hanzhang’s large hand settled on Chu Muyun’s chest, kneading the creamy fabric into wrinkles. Chu Muyun gasped softly, his body trembling slightly beneath the damp linen. “I-I haven’t showered yet…”

“Oh,” Lu Hanzhang responded, picking up a bottle of sparkling water from the table. He twisted open the cap and slowly poured the water over Chu Muyun’s chest. The air conditioning kept the room cool, but the high-quality, normally opaque linen shirt became completely transparent when wet, clinging tightly to Chu Muyun’s skin. The fabric revealed the color of his flesh beneath, like melted cream, outlining his flat stomach and navel—a sight both vulnerable and tantalizing.

Lu Hanzhang watched intently, his gaze unwavering. Before him was a scene he had fantasized about in his mind during sleepless nights in Ziwei: a beautiful boy wearing a sweat-soaked linen shirt, stained by his touch.

“What are you doing? You’ve gotten me all wet,” Chu Muyun complained softly, his tone more like a playful tease than genuine annoyance.

Lu Hanzhang chuckled, kissed him, and lifted him into his arms, carrying him toward the bathroom.

“You look like you’re begging me to transfer money to you,” he remarked casually.

Chu Muyun instantly recalled the promotional photo he had taken—was that from when he first joined the Misaligned production crew? Now that the show had already premiered, he blurted out, “So early?” They’d started using his photo this early?

No wonder it was 76 times.

What a hypocritical beast.

He was soon devoured in the bathroom by the beast who had shed his pretense of civility, savored meticulously, and plundered fiercely.

Still wearing his soaked linen shirt, its buttons torn off, Chu Muyun’s skin—paler than cream—was marked with strawberry-like red marks. The proud white swan, who had held his head high in the promotional photo, now lay broken-winged in the mud. No makeup was needed; the corners of his eyes were already flushed red, as if from crying after being thoroughly ravished.

Lu Hanzhang showed no mercy, holding him tightly in his grasp. His innate possessiveness surged wildly. He craved absolute control over everything, especially his one and only lover. The white swan had finally become his caged bird, kept and cherished within his gilded cage.

Chu Muyun vaguely remembered Lu Hanzhang placing him on the bed after carrying him back from the bathroom. He seemed to have personally massaged Chu Muyun’s lower back, greatly relieving the soreness.

Getting up the next morning wasn’t too difficult, perhaps because his body was gradually getting used to it.

I’m becoming the perfect vessel for the Great King…

He also received a WeChat message from his manager, Jin Ming, congratulating him on the explosive success of Misaligned. The official platform’s first-day viewership data far surpassed all other dramas released during the same period. Chu Muyun couldn’t help but grin. Great! After a night of wild indulgence, he hadn’t even bothered to check the online buzz.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” Lu Hanzhang asked.

“Hehe, the drama’s a hit! I’m going to be famous!”

“Congratulations.”

“Mm! When I become a big star, I’ll buy you tons of gifts!” Chu Muyun shifted his attention back to the present, taking Lu Hanzhang’s hand and leading him downstairs. The two acted like a married couple, enjoying breakfast together at the hotel before heading to the film set. The Assistant Director, in charge of scheduling, had thoughtfully arranged for Chu Muyun to film fewer scenes today, all scheduled for the morning. He would be done by afternoon and could leave early.

After all, Chu Muyun had brought his own funding to the production, so the crew had to treat him with respect. He hadn’t caused much delay, and he was generally very dedicated during filming. Many popular stars these days take advantage of their status to juggle multiple projects, accepting two or three roles simultaneously and leaving one set mid-shoot to film elsewhere, forcing entire crews to halt production and wait for their return. Compared to that, Chu Muyun’s minor delays were insignificant.

After leaving the set and having dinner at a restaurant, Chu Muyun gazed at the man across from him with reluctance.

If only he could stay here with me forever, he thought. I want to see him every time I look up, to cuddle with him every day. But aloud, he said, “Let’s head to the airport after dinner. We’re a bit pressed for time. You should get back to the Capital early and get some rest.”

“Mm.”

In the car to the airport, Chu Muyun nestled in Lu Hanzhang’s arms, greedily claiming kisses and savoring their last moments of warmth.

“I’ll come see you again next weekend,” Lu Hanzhang said softly. “It won’t be long.”

“Okay! I’ll be waiting for you!”

Back at the hotel after seeing him off, it wasn’t yet late, and the second episode of Misaligned was just airing. Chu Muyun turned on the TV and watched for a while, feeling empty, lonely, and cold.

The TV’s sound filled the room, but the warmth of another person was missing.

He silently picked up his phone and opened Weibo.

Chu Muyun logged into Weibo using the same large account he’d used to retweet Awakening of Insects greetings. He remembered to switch to his small account with the default avatar. As soon as he logged in, he posted another rambling message:

[I miss him so much, I miss him so much, I can’t breathe a second without him, waaaah!]

A new message notification popped up in the lower right corner. Surprisingly, even this small account had followers.

Chu Muyun checked it. It was a hater mocking him as Luo Yi’s “dream girl”: [How pathetic. Your husband clearly bottoms outside.]

? Yeah, I’m the bottom, so what?

The private messages contained even more venomous comments, all because he’d casually mentioned during the chaotic online battle that Luo Yi, the actor pampered by fans despite his mediocre acting skills, had pica. He swiftly blocked and muted the sender, then entered the Misaligned official supertopic.

Time for war!

On this lonely spring night without his husband, he would channel his sorrow into battle power, relentlessly mocking his enemies!

A minute later, he discovered they were still winning.

By its second day, Misaligned had truly exploded, its popularity crushing all other concurrent dramas. Since its premiere the previous night, it had trended on Weibo multiple times. The supertopic was buzzing with activity, the battle lines fiercely drawn. The Luo Yi Fans remained cohesive and fiercely combative, but our side hadn’t lost ground, collectively mocking the opposition.

[Why are the fans unhappy even though their top-tier idol finally had a hit drama after over two years without a project?]

[Because the hit wasn’t for their precious oppa, but for someone else!]

[And their precious oppa got completely overshadowed by the other actor!]

[I used to think Luo Yi’s fans were just a bit annoying, but the man himself was decent-looking. Now that we have a comparison, it’s clear he’s utterly lacking. This is what they mean by “comparing goods reveals the inferior.”]

Luo Yi’s fans jumped to refute the claims, arguing: [How could he be overshadowed? Is this some kind of aesthetic bullying?]

[If it’s not being overshadowed, what is it? Let’s crowdfund eye surgery for these fans.]

[Blind in both eyes and heart—incurable.]

[If you like Luo Yi, stop trying to impose your warped standards on normal people’s aesthetics.]

Others were spreading the word:

[High-definition comparison video of Chu Muyun & Luo Yi from episode 1! Watch it before the fans report it down!]

[@link: Click here to see Luo Yi’s suspected AI-generated face and machine-like acting!]

Initially, Chu Muyun’s fans were outnumbered by Luo Yi’s. But with the drama’s success, the supertopic gained many casual viewers. Luo Yi’s reputation had also soured, leading to a “when the wall crumbles, everyone pushes” effect. Even fans of his arch-rival male star joined the fray, turning it into a glorious, chaotic free-for-all.

Chu Muyun grinned, slipped into the chaos, and tossed in a few taunts. An actor who could only recite lines as “123123”—a disgrace to the profession—deserved ridicule.