Chapter 229 If You Don’t Eat Your Fill, How Will You Have the Energy to Play with Me?

At the Golden Lion Awards ceremony, the lights were dazzling.

Lu Er sat in the second row by the aisle. The velvet suit that had been splashed with coffee had already been changed.

Bai Zhi had urgently found a backup outfit backstage—a classic white Dior suit.

The tailoring was sharp. Though it wasn’t as eye-catching as the previous one, there was nothing to fault.

His makeup had been touched up again, foundation covering the slight redness from the coffee burn.

The stylist had redone his hair at top speed, cleaning away every trace of the stain.

On stage, the presenter was reading out the nominees for Best Actor.

“And the winner of the 38th Golden Lion Award for Best Actor is—”

The presenter deliberately dragged out the moment, building suspense. “Lu Er!”

Applause and cheers instantly flooded the entire venue.

Lu Er stood up, a composed smile on his face.

Ye Qingge said, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.”

Lu Er adjusted the hem of his suit and walked onto the stage, taking the heavy golden trophy from the presenter.

The audience fell silent.

“Thank you to the organizing committee, thank you to the judges. Thank you, Director Guan, for giving me this opportunity.”

“This role was both a challenge and a chance for growth for me. Thank you to the screenwriter for such a wonderful script, and to all the actors and staff I’ve worked with.”

He paused, sweeping his gaze across the audience. “And thank you to the fans who have always supported me.”

Applause erupted again.

When he returned to his seat, Bai Zhi was so emotional her eyes had turned red.

This year had been full of hardships, but thankfully, all the effort had been worth it.

The ceremony didn’t end until 10 p.m.

Lu Er was held back by the media for interviews for half an hour. By the time he could finally catch his breath, it was almost eleven.

As soon as he came out of the restroom, he ran into Yan Huaijin.

“Congratulations. Well deserved.”

Lu Er dried his hands and smiled. “Thank you, Teacher Yan.”

“Don’t call me that anymore. This old Best Actor should step down and make way for the next generation.”

“You shouldn’t say that. Being Best Actor requires time to mature. I still have a lot to learn.”

Yan Huaijin looked at him gently. “What I’m saying is a sincere blessing as a friend. And in a few days, I’ll be announcing my retirement from the industry.”

Lu Er froze.

“Retire?”

“Mm.”

“Then what will you do?” Lu Er asked. “Will you stay in the entertainment industry?”

Yan Huaijin shook his head. “Same as before.”

“Before?”

Lu Er didn’t understand.

“I once told Song Jingmo,” Yan Huaijin said calmly, “that if I were with you, I’d become your manager—plan your career, help you reach higher and go further.”

Lu Er’s breathing hitched. Song Jingmo had indeed mentioned this before.

“But now it’s the same,” Yan Huaijin said with a faint smile, “only the person has changed—to Gu Jinzhou.”

Lu Er let out a breath. “Gu Jinzhou… only you can keep him in line.”

Just as he finished speaking, the restroom door was suddenly pushed open.

Gu Jinzhou stood at the entrance, his expression not looking too good.

He wore a beautiful purple velvet suit, exquisitely tailored. But the gloomy look on his face ruined the elegance.

“Yan Huaijin,” Gu Jinzhou said, clearly displeased, “why did you disappear for so long without telling me?”

Yan Huaijin turned to him naturally. “I happened to run into Lu Er and chatted for a bit.”

“A bit? Does it take that long to chat?”

Gu Jinzhou stepped beside Yan Huaijin, his eyes fixed on Lu Er. “Best Actor Lu, aren’t you busy after winning an award? Why do you still have time to chat here?”

His tone was laced with sarcasm.

Yan Huaijin gently tugged at him. “Jinzhou.”

“What?”

Gu Jinzhou tried to shake off his hand but couldn’t quite bring himself to.

Lowering his voice, he looked aggrieved. “I’ve been looking for you for ages. You didn’t answer my calls or reply to my messages…”

“My phone was on silent.”

Yan Huaijin took out his phone and glanced at it. “Sorry.”

Gu Jinzhou puffed up in annoyance, his gaze toward Lu Er full of undisguised wariness and hostility.

Lu Er let out an amused snort. “I’ll get going then. Won’t disturb you two.”

Just as he stepped out, he heard Gu Jinzhou’s unhappy voice from inside: “Do you still like him? I saw it—the way you looked at him…”

“Gu Jinzhou.” Yan Huaijin’s voice turned deep. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

Lu Er shook his head, took out his phone, and opened his chat with Song Jingmo.

The latest message had been sent five minutes ago: “Finished?”

Lu Er replied: “Just finished, heading out.”

Song Jingmo: “Stay safe.”

Lu Er: “Got it. Are you asleep?”

Song Jingmo: “Not yet.”

Lu Er replied while walking out, head down as he typed, not watching where he was going.

Bang—he walked straight into someone.

“Sorry.”

He quickly apologized, then froze as he looked up.

Song Jingmo was standing right in front of him.

“Doctor Song?”

Lu Er blinked, wondering if he was so tired he was hallucinating. “What are you doing here?”

Song Jingmo raised his hand and lightly flicked his forehead.

“I told you not to use your phone while walking,” he said helplessly. “How many times have I said it? You never listen.”

It wasn’t a hallucination.

Song Jingmo had really come.

Lu Er glanced around at the sparse crowd and didn’t dare make any big moves. “Didn’t you say the hospital was busy?”

“I saw the trending topics,” Song Jingmo’s gaze swept over his face. “Was worried, so I came to check.”

Only then did Lu Er remember the trending topics from tonight.

He took out his phone and opened Weibo.

Six of the top ten trending topics were about him:

#LuErGoldenLionBestActor#
#LuErSplashedWithCoffeeOnRedCarpet#
#LuErSpoilsFans#
#LuErAttendsWithoutMakeup#
#LuErDownToEarth#
#LuErNoIdolBurden#

Each one was marked “explosive.”

He tapped the second one—the video of him being splashed with coffee had already been reposted millions of times.

The comment section was in an uproar:

“My god, Lulu is so brave!”
“That lunatic who threw coffee!”
“Lu Er is seriously so good to his fans…”
“He dared to show up barefaced? But he still looks so good…”

Reading the comments, the corners of Lu Er’s lips lifted unconsciously.

“They’re saying I look good even without makeup.”

He looked up, eyes sparkling. “Doctor Song, what do you think?”

Song Jingmo looked at him. There was only a thin layer of foundation on his face, covering the dark circles from staying up late and the faint redness from the burn.

His brows were natural, lashes long, lips a healthy pale pink.

“Mm,” Song Jingmo nodded. “You look good.”

Lu Er smiled, leaning closer. “Want to take a look at where the coffee burned me?”

Song Jingmo frowned. “You got burned?”

“Just a little.”

Lu Er unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and pulled the collar down slightly. “Here—and on my shoulder.”

Below his right collarbone was a patch of reddened skin, and there was some on his shoulder too.

Not serious, but still alarming to look at.

Song Jingmo’s gaze darkened. His fingers gently touched the reddened skin. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Lu Er leaned in closer. “Not even as red as the marks you left.”

Song Jingmo’s ears turned red. He turned his face away and coughed lightly.

Lu Er laughed even more happily, buttoned his shirt again, straightened his clothes, and then took Song Jingmo’s hand.

“Come on, I’ll take you out for a late-night snack.”

Song Jingmo said, “There was airplane food. I had some—I’m not very hungry.”

“I am.”

Lu Er hooked his finger with his. “If I don’t eat my fill, how will I have the energy to play with you…”

Song Jingmo: “……”