Chapter 137 If You’re Hungry, Go Lick a Toilet—Stop Yapping Here

At eight in the morning, the curtains of the hotel room were drawn back by Song Jingmo.

The winter sunlight wasn’t bright, but it filtered in, dispelling the lingering trace of intimacy in the room.

“Er’er, wake up, it’s time to get up.”

Song Jingmo sat at the edge of the bed, fingers gently brushing aside the messy strands of hair on Lu Er’s forehead. His voice carried a morning huskiness mixed with contentment.

The person under the covers wriggled, letting out a groan that was both pained and aggrieved, burying their head deeper into the pillow.

With drowsiness and a hint of accusation in their voice: “Song Jingmo, you’re not human. You knew I had filming today and only let me sleep for three hours…”

The words trailed off, growing quieter, and Lu Er was on the verge of dozing off again.

Song Jingmo let out a low chuckle. “Correction: I just made up for the one and a half hours you ‘owed’ me from the first night.”

He paused, then with a teasing gesture, his fingers traced Lu Er’s smooth shoulder that peeked out from under the blanket. “I’m heading back to City A tomorrow. Can I get a little compensation tonight?”

Lu Er, caught between anger at his precise calculation and shameless request, instantly woke up halfway, jerking his head out of the covers.

Kicking fiercely, he shouted, “Compensation my foot! You exploit better than Zhou Papi! Even capitalists would cry if they saw you.”

Song Jingmo had expected this and easily sidestepped.

With the movement, he gently grabbed Lu Er’s restless ankle and helped slip on his socks.

One of Lu Er’s feet was held, while the other deliberately pressed against Song Jingmo’s shoulder with his toes, lightly grinding while saying, “I can put them on myself.”

Song Jingmo didn’t even look up, focusing on smoothing the edges of the socks.

His voice calm and steady: “I was worried you’d be uncomfortable bending over.”

Lu Er: “…”

How could this man, with such a pure and ascetic face, say such… shameless things?

Once the socks were on, Lu Er practically hopped into the bathroom to wash up.

By the time he emerged slowly, Song Jingmo had already set out breakfast.

Warm milk, sandwiches, and some cut fruit.

They ate quickly, and Song Jingmo drove Lu Er to the filming location.

On the way, Lu Er leaned against the window to catch some sleep while Song Jingmo focused on driving.

Every now and then, he glanced at the peaceful sleeping face beside him, eyes filled with inextinguishable tenderness.

At the film city, Lu Er headed straight to his trailer to get made up, familiar with the routine. Song Jingmo found a corner to sit.

The makeup artist, straightforward in nature, opened the kit while chatting casually: “How did Xiao Lu rest last night? Huh…”

Her gaze froze at Lu Er’s neck, then she gasped.

Lu Er’s fair, long neck, from behind the ear down to the collarbone, was dotted with several reddish marks of varying depths, glaring under the light.

The makeup artist internally groaned, hastily picking up concealer and foundation to start covering them.

Yet the marks were deep—one layer of foundation still left them visible.

“Oh, brother, aiyo!”

The artist panicked, applying more force with her brush, both angry and amused: “Can’t you at least restrain yourself during filming? How am I supposed to fix this?”

Lu Er didn’t even lift his eyelids: “Some people are born dogs. I’m just exhausted.”

Not just mentally exhausted—physically too.

Song Jingmo’s eyes landed on the battered neck, darkening slightly with a trace of guilty regret.

He approached the makeup mirror, speaking sincerely: “Sorry, it’s my fault. I’ll be more careful in the future, try not to cause you trouble.”

With Song Jingmo’s good attitude and handsome face, the makeup artist’s complaints instantly choked back.

She could only shake her head, face red: “It’s—it’s fine, I’ll try to cover it. Xiao Lu’s skin is fair, so it’s more obvious…”

Lu Er glared at Song Jingmo through the mirror, baring his teeth.

Song Jingmo, sensing the complaint, let the corners of his mouth twitch subtly. He reached up to ruffle Lu Er’s hair, only to be swatted away in disgust.

After some fussing, the marks were barely concealed.

Lu Er changed into his costume and dove into the intense filming.

The rest area had a tent, with some chairs and tables.

Aside from Song Jingmo, a few other actors sat chatting and playing on their phones.

Song Jingmo’s gaze inevitably followed Lu Er.

One had to admit, though Lu Er wasn’t a domineering CEO, his acting made it almost believable.

At that moment, the idle chatter of some nearby actors floated over.

“Hey, did you hear? Ye Qingge got her resources by… you know, sleeping around?”

“Of course, it’s all over the industry,”

Another male actor whispered, “I heard there’s a wealthy backer supporting her, otherwise, how could she rise so fast?”

Song Jingmo’s fingers holding the water bottle whitened slightly, his brows barely furrowing.

He wasn’t interested in entertainment gossip, but Ye Qingge was Lu Er’s friend, and they had even dined together last night.

What followed, however, made Song Jingmo’s face instantly darken.

“She’s a kept lover? But isn’t she rumored to be with Lu Er?”

“Maybe she’s playing multiple sides? Lu Er has a heavy appetite, eats anything, and doesn’t care if it’s dirty.”

One scoffed: “How many are clean in this industry? He’s so attractive, how could he stay innocent?”

Another added immediately: “I heard a few big shots in the industry like that type—pretty and a bit mischievous.”

“My friend saw him at Shang K with those big shots, having a blast. Who knows how many times he’s been taken advantage of? Otherwise, his resources wouldn’t be this good.”

Vulgar words, like sewage, full of malicious assumptions and jealousy, flowed openly.

The atmosphere around Song Jingmo visibly darkened as he slowly lifted his head.

His cold gaze, sharp as a blade, precisely targeted those still gossiping without restraint.

The few actors exchanged uneasy glances.

Song Jingmo said flatly, “Such filthy talk—did you not wipe your mouths after using the restroom?”

One replied irritably: “We’re just chatting. What’s it to you? Who do you think you are?”

Song Jingmo smiled faintly: “If you’re hungry, go lick a toilet. Stop yapping here. If you’re really free, you can go help someone else instead.”