SA CH126

Rong Xu had, of course, heard of the name Yang Changzheng.

During the early stages of filming Black Clouds, Rong Xu often acted opposite a middle-aged actor, whose character was based on Yang Changzheng.

Ling Xiao might have been self-taught and talented, but after being scouted by talent agents, he’d gone through systematic training in professional music theory. His instructor back then had been none other than Yang Changzheng, who was only a few years older. Yang Changzheng had carefully shaped that raw jade into a brilliant gemstone and was one of the people Ling Xiao respected most in his life.

The world was never short of geniuses. Though not yet fifty, Yang Changzheng was already one of Huaxia’s top composers. His musical style spanned a vast range—rock, jazz, lyrical ballads, elegies—he had composed them all, winning numerous prestigious industry awards along the way.

So when Yang Changzheng personally reached out to Luo Zhentao, the latter was understandably shocked.

In the Chinese music industry, unless you were a singer-songwriter, the typical process was that singers would approach composers and lyricists to create songs for their albums. While there were cases of composers reaching out to singers, they almost always chose established names—not unknown newcomers. And certainly not someone brand new to the music scene, who hadn’t even debuted as a singer.

Rong Xu’s popularity was beyond doubt—but in the music world, he had only released one song: Wingless. In that field, he was a complete rookie.

Because Rong Xu was set to fly to City G the next day for Zhuang Hua Luo’s promotional roadshow, that very evening he arrived at Huaxia Entertainment to meet the renowned composer in person.

When Rong Xu entered Luo Zhentao’s office, the door opened to reveal a tall, slim figure seated on the couch with his back to the entrance, looking down at something.

From the back, the man’s outfit was stylish—he seemed like a young man in his late twenties or early thirties. But once Luo Zhentao made introductions, Rong Xu realized that this youthful-looking figure, who barely appeared forty, was in fact Yang Changzheng.

Yang Changzheng set down his phone and smiled as he extended his hand.
“Yang Changzheng.”

Rong Xu immediately responded, lifting his hand to shake the composer’s.
“Hello, I’m Rong Xu.”

He had seen photos of this composer before, but seeing him in person, Rong Xu was struck by the man’s energy and warmth. Yang didn’t seem like a man approaching fifty at all. He was witty and talkative, often cracking jokes that made Luo Xi—standing nearby—cover her mouth to stifle her giggles.

After an hour of conversation, Rong Xu had gained a decent impression of Yang Changzheng—and it seemed that Yang had made up his mind about something, too.

As dusk fell, Rong Xu gently sipped from a porcelain cup of coffee. When he glanced up, he noticed Yang Changzheng also raising his teacup, smiling at him.

They exchanged knowing smiles. Yang Changzheng said:
“You’re quite a bit like Ling Xiao—but there are differences.”

Since starring in Black Clouds, more than one person had told Rong Xu this. He knew it, too. Maybe he did resemble Ling Xiao in some ways; otherwise, Director Liang wouldn’t have let him audition. But in truth, they were also very different.

For one, Rong Xu wasn’t as gentle as Ling Xiao—whose temper was so mild no one could ever get angry with him. Rong Xu knew he could never manage that.

Not lingering on this topic, Rong Xu simply smiled and nodded.
“I really like Ling Xiao’s songs. It’s a pity I entered the industry too late and never got the chance to meet him.”

They chatted for a while longer, but Rong Xu made no effort to steer the conversation toward business. Instead, Yang Changzheng gave him a meaningful look and finally said:
“I’ve just finished a few songs this month. Rong Xu—interested in working together?”

This was the moment they’d been waiting for.

The last rays of the setting sun disappeared below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the earth. The handsome young man slowly smiled, gently set his coffee cup down on the table, and locked his gaze onto the composer, speaking sincerely:
“It would be my honor, Mr. Yang.”

And so, their collaboration was sealed.

Yang Changzheng was also a signed composer with Huaxia Entertainment. After confirming the collaboration, he left the office to return to his recording studio.

As this meeting had been rushed—since Rong Xu would be leaving the next day—Yang Changzheng didn’t give him the finished three songs yet. Instead, before leaving, he smiled and said:
“I’m old enough to be your father, you know. But after meeting you today, I feel more like we’re good friends. I’ve gotten some new inspiration—I’m planning to write another song tonight. When I’ve finished seven in total, I’ll send you the sheet music.”

He didn’t bother asking if Rong Xu could read sheet music—Yang Changzheng simply made the decision outright.

Usually, a full album contained at least ten songs. Yang Changzheng’s implication was clear: he would personally handle at least seven of Rong Xu’s tracks. This promise made Luo Zhentao overjoyed, while Rong Xu remained calm and collected. After exchanging contact information, they parted ways.

Just as it was time to clock out, Luo Zhentao happily discussed Yang Changzheng as they left Huaxia Entertainment.

“Both albums Yang Changzheng composed last year sold over 800,000 copies each—and one even broke the million mark.” As they waited for the elevator, Luo Zhentao said, “Using his songs to break into the music scene is a great opportunity. But Xiaoxu, I didn’t expect you to make this decision so decisively.”

After working with Rong Xu for over a year, Luo Zhentao knew well that his artist had never let go of the dream of entering the music world.

As the saying went—actors who sang, singers who acted—it was common in Huaxia. Many film kings and queens had released songs, even if they didn’t fully cross over into music. Their focus remained acting, but they’d all recorded at least one or two songs—like Wen Xuan, or Xia Muyan.

Listening to Luo Zhentao’s words, Rong Xu smiled and replied:
“Mr. Yang offered, so I felt this was a rare opportunity that I shouldn’t miss.”

Luo Zhentao nodded in agreement.
“Yeah. Sometimes all it takes is the right moment.”

For the upcoming week of Zhuang Hua Luo’s roadshows, Luo would accompany Rong Xu. But when Rong flew to the U.S. for 3,200 Miles, Luo would stay in Huaxia—leaving Luo Xi and bodyguards to accompany Rong abroad.

After entering the parking garage, Rong said:
“Brother Luo, you and Sister Xi go ahead.”

Luo Zhentao paused. Luo Xi asked directly:
“What’s wrong, Xiao Xu? Not coming with us?”

Rong Xu hadn’t gotten his driver’s license yet, being too busy with filming—he couldn’t drive himself.

Without any attempt to hide it, Rong turned to Luo Zhentao and said:
“A friend happened to be here on business. He’ll give me a ride.”

Luo Xi nodded, not thinking much of it—but Luo Zhentao froze and asked:

 “…That friend who lives near you?”

Rong smiled and nodded.

And so the three parted ways.

As Luo Xi chatted with Luo Zhentao about the next few days of roadshows, Rong Xu walked off in the opposite direction. He didn’t notice Luo Zhentao glancing back at him twice, a look of scrutiny and puzzlement in his eyes. Not that it mattered—no matter what Luo thought, he’d never guess that Rong Xu and a certain man were already together.

The next day, Rong Xu and Qin Cheng boarded the same flight to City G for the Zhuang Hua Luo roadshow.

At that moment, Zhuang Hua Luo had been in theaters for a full seven days—raking in a total box office of 3.9 billion yuan!

For the second half of 2044, no other film in Huaxia had posted higher first-week numbers than Zhuang Hua Luo.

For a commercial film, this was an exceptional achievement. However, after seven days, the box office momentum was starting to wane—hence the need for the cast’s roadshow to rekindle audience enthusiasm and boost ticket sales.

On all the major review sites, Zhuang Hua Luo scored an impressive 9.4 out of 10. Tens of thousands of moviegoers happily gave perfect ratings, and perhaps because of its broad, accessible subject matter, everyone could understand and enjoy it. Among the hundreds of thousands of user reviews, the lowest rating wasn’t even below 2.

Zhuang Hua Luo was scheduled for a 27-day theatrical run. Rong Xu would only be joining the promotional roadshow for one week before heading to the U.S. to film a new project. The rest of the crew, however, would continue the roadshow for half a month, traveling across major cities worldwide.

The roadshow team included Qin Cheng, Huang Lei, Rong Xu, and Director Liu himself.

With such a lineup, the Zhuang Hua Luo roadshow was a great success in City G. Director Liu, a seasoned veteran, had anticipated the excitement and hired the top security firm in City G a month in advance to handle crowd control. As expected, on the day of the roadshow, many fans without entry tickets gathered around the venue. Without the security staff maintaining order, a serious incident could have easily occurred.

After City G, the next stop was Paris.

The film premiered in Huaxia on December 18th and went into worldwide release on December 22nd. Due to its theme, Zhuang Hua Luo wasn’t performing as well overseas as it was domestically. Still, thanks to years of cultural export, many foreigners had grown fond of Huaxia’s martial arts and codes of chivalry, showing great interest in the film.

What was surprising, however, was that in Paris, Huang Lei had a large fanbase—bigger even than Qin Cheng and Rong Xu’s.

Five years prior, the actress had starred alongside a French film emperor in a Sino-French co-production. The romantic comedy was well-received by French audiences, who now viewed the beautiful and gentle Huang Lei as their ideal “Oriental lover.”

But when the crew reached London, the situation changed dramatically.

Before the London roadshow began, Director Liu specifically called Rong Xu and Qin Cheng aside. The elderly director looked them up and down several times, his gaze serious, until Rong Xu’s polite smile slowly faded. Only then did Liu speak in a solemn tone:

“I have an idea for this UK event. I wonder… what you two think of it?”

Rong Xu raised his brows in surprise, but Qin Cheng replied calmly,
“What idea?”

Director Liu studied the two of them intently before suddenly grinning and saying, “You two should put on some fan service tonight.”

Rong Xu: “…”

Qin Cheng: “…”

With a straight face, Director Liu explained:

 “I’ve been here many times. You both know—this country embraced LGBTQ culture in the last century, and they were one of the first to legalize same-sex marriage in this one. Qin Cheng, Rong Xu—if you give them some fanservice, it’ll work even better than traditional male-female chemistry. How about it? Can you do it?”

In the entertainment industry, especially during promotions, no tactic was off-limits. Fanservice was a very common marketing ploy.

Just last month, Zhang Tongtong (lead actress of Ambush) had kissed the male lead—tongue and all—at a drama press conference to stir buzz.

Of course, Rong Xu knew that Zhang Tongtong had a boyfriend—half an insider in the industry. The kiss had been just for publicity. If actors could kiss on stage for a stunt, why not a little fanservice?

Back when promoting Lost City, Director Yuan had also asked Rong Xu to stage some fanservice with Bai Xiwen. Rong Xu had declined—he wasn’t keen on deliberately flirting with other men in public for attention.

But right now, Rong Xu’s concern was elsewhere.

“Director Liu… how do you even know the term ‘fanservice’?”

Seeing the young man’s amused expression, Director Liu raised a bushy white brow and asked instead, “So? During the rest of the roadshow, remember to give them plenty of fanservice. Take every opportunity you get. Can you do that?”

Rong Xu smiled and agreed, and Qin Cheng gave a slight nod.

By the time they were about to take the stage, even Huang Lei had caught wind of the plan.

The graceful actress covered her lips, chuckling:

“Director Liu’s not wrong. I’ve heard too—the biggest buzz about Zhuang Hua Luo here in the UK is about the relationship between Kong Chao and Zhu Molang. Apparently, Kong Chao is seen as the ‘husband’ and Zhu Molang the ‘wife’.”

Huang Lei wasn’t familiar with terms like “top” or “bottom,” but she smiled and added, “If you two play into it, the audience might love it.”

Rong Xu spread his hands helplessly.

“I can already imagine. But Sister Huang, what I’m really curious about is how Director Liu knows the term?”

At that moment, the elderly director turned around, laughing heartily. He didn’t look at Rong Xu but directly at Qin Cheng, saying bluntly:
“Qin Cheng, can’t you control your ‘wife’? You think I’m that old? I’m not even seventy yet—only sixty-eight! What’s wrong with knowing a few popular slang words from the younger generation? Hurry up and explain it to your ‘wife’!”

Huang Lei couldn’t hold back her giggles. Rong Xu’s ears turned red as he muttered, “Director Liu!”

A deep, magnetic voice sounded from beside him.

“He has a point.”

Rong Xu turned in surprise, seeing Qin Cheng looking down at him with dark, intense eyes.

His heart skipped a beat. As he blinked, Qin Cheng casually wrapped an arm around Rong Xu’s shoulders, gently pulling him close. In front of both Director Liu and Huang Lei, he naturally embraced Rong Xu’s slim waist, leaning down to murmur in his ear:

“Wife, don’t underestimate Director Liu. He’s quite trendy—only sixty-seven… no wait, sixty-eight this year.”

Rong Xu’s face instantly burned.
“!!!”

Oblivious to anything strange, Huang Lei simply laughed.
“Haha.”

Director Liu, feigning indignation, snapped:
“Sixty-eight, so what? At least I know what fanservice is—and I know those kids out there are dying to see it from you two! Now get up there and give them what they want!”

For the next two hours, Qin Cheng and Rong Xu’s antics on stage left Director Liu grinning ear to ear.

Whenever Rong Xu spoke, Qin Cheng would turn to gaze at him, eyes full of affection—eliciting shrieks from the crowd. When Qin Cheng discussed the ending of Zhuang Hua Luo, Rong Xu suddenly interrupted, “Kong Chao, how could you treat me like this?”

Before the audience’s astonished eyes, Qin Cheng smoothly pulled the young man into a tight hug, holding him firmly for ten whole seconds. Raising the mic with his other hand, he said solemnly:
“It’s all my fault.”

The fans screamed and cheered wildly, nearly blowing the roof off the venue. The atmosphere was electrifying, and that evening, discussions about Zhuang Hua Luo flooded the UK’s biggest social media platforms.

[His Highness is so beautiful! Even more stunning in person! Gorgeous!]

[Yes! After seeing them live—they were adorable! I’m going to watch Zhuang Hua Luo again this weekend!]

Director Liu was thoroughly satisfied with the result. After the London roadshow ended, however, Rong Xu did not accompany the crew to Berlin. Instead, he flew straight to Washington.

Under the cover of night, a sleek silver plane touched down at Washington Airport. The 3,200 Miles production crew had already gathered in the capital city, preparing for a week-long action training camp.

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Author’s Note:
Qin Cheng-cheng: Wife, wife~ mwah mwah =3=
Rong Rong: Who’s your wife?!!!