Reborn, I Became a Male God - Chapter 49

The photo attached to the Weibo post was taken in the apartment Shen Ze had rented. He had really gone all out to bring Jing Ling over, going so far as to travel all the way to Qincheng to rent a place—and Jing Ling had only just found out.

When they entered the apartment, Jing Ling offered to reimburse the rent. Shen Ze replied, “If you really think it’s been hard for me, then just do your job properly. I’m not asking for much—start by diligently updating your Weibo, just one post a day will do.”

The demand was honestly so low that Jing Ling felt embarrassed to refuse.

After the two entered, Shen Ze directly pointed at the wall in the living room and said to him, “Take off your shoes and go stand there.” Jing Ling followed his gaze and saw that there was a children’s height chart sticker on the white wall. He immediately suspected this had been premeditated. The latter explained, “Left behind by the previous tenant, thanks.”

Measuring height barefoot is the only way to show sincerity. The sticker measured up to 180cm. When Jing Ling stood there, he exceeded it just like that. But apparently Shen Ze didn’t think that was sincere enough—he casually grabbed a magazine and pressed it down on Jing Ling’s head, flattening his fluffy hair, and finally stopped at the 180cm mark.

“…Was that really necessary?” Jing Ling said, a bit helpless.

Shen Ze brought over the camera. “Don’t move.” Then he started snapping photos from all sorts of angles—click click click. Out of boredom, Jing Ling counted the shutter sounds. Not one more, not one less—exactly a hundred.

“All done.” After saying that, Shen Ze took the camera to the computer, connected the data cable, exported the photos, then checked them one by one before selecting the most satisfactory one. He opened Photoshop and began editing.

“You know how to do this?” Jing Ling asked in surprise upon seeing this. He watched from the side for a while and saw that the skills were pretty decent, with shortcuts being used fluently.

Without turning his head, Shen Ze said, “When I first started in the industry, I was always working with newcomers. I couldn’t afford a team, so I had to figure things out myself.”

“Honestly, why were you willing to take me on in the first place?” Jing Ling asked. Shen Ze was his agent, but they’d barely had a few proper conversations since the beginning. Not only did he lack a so-called team, he didn’t even have an assistant. Up to now, all the work had been handled solely by Shen Ze. Even during filming on the Jiangcheng Twelve Islands, Shen Ze treated himself like an assistant.

Thinking about it, Jing Ling realized he had been quite an ass. Not only did he lack passion for his profession, he wasn’t even doing the basics well.

“Who doesn’t have a bit of ambition?” Shen Ze replied. “I was willing to take you on because I believed in your future. And as it turns out, my judgment wasn’t wrong. Of course, if you could be a bit more diligent, that’d be perfect.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be diligent, okay?” Jing Ling compromised. So much for the cold, elite professional image—completely a facade.

Shen Ze finished editing the picture in about ten minutes. Jing Ling glanced at the final product, and three black lines [a comic-style visual metaphor for speechlessness or embarrassment] immediately slid down his forehead. Say what you will, but what were those two red blobs on his cheeks? And why was grass growing out of his head? Most importantly, the text bubble said—“Baby has grown taller!” What kind of aesthetic was this???

But Shen Ze thought it was great. Livening up the mood—nothing works better than being adorable.

Forced to act cute, Jing Ling said, “As long as you’re happy.”

The photo was ready, but it was already late—nearly 1 a.m. Posting on Weibo at that hour wouldn’t do much good, so Shen Ze planned to save it for the next morning. The apartment he rented was two bedrooms and a living room, but since he lived alone, the other bedroom hadn’t been cleaned. Cleaning it now would be too much trouble, so he grabbed a quilt, tossed it on the sofa, and said to Jing Ling, “You can sleep in my room.”

“Actually, I prefer the sofa,” Jing Ling said with a smile.

Shen Ze was stubborn too, so in the end, the two each took one sofa and slept soundly until morning.

Every morning, the first thing Yang Rou did was check Weibo. Her male idol hadn’t posted for nearly a month; the last one was a New Year joke about eating leftovers, and the comments had already exceeded 150,000. Most were fans checking in daily, while a few haters barked like mad dogs, accusing her idol of being unprofessional and acting like a diva. The spark had been a teaser posted by the official Weibo of the film Island, which tagged him, but he didn’t respond.

Maybe it was because she viewed him through rose-colored glasses, but Yang Rou didn’t think it was a big deal. He didn’t update his Weibo daily anyway. Since opening the account, it had been about half a year and he’d only posted fewer than 20 times—on average, about once every two weeks. He might not have even logged in and simply hadn’t seen the tag.

At first, she had been a fan because of his face, but later discovered he was incredibly low-key. On one hand, she was delighted by how pure and unpretentious he was, so different from all those flashy, sleazy types. On the other, she felt sorry for him—he’d acted in a great drama and landed a top director’s film, but outside of Weibo and the Nanzhou Forum, there was barely any trace of him. She was practically worrying herself sick over his future.

Checking Weibo had become a daily routine—hoping for a new post, but not disappointed if there wasn’t one. She’d just check in on his older posts. Today was no different. But to her surprise, when she refreshed, there was a brand-new post. She froze for a second, then let out a shriek and nearly leapt out of bed from excitement.

She wasn’t the only one who checked Weibo daily. The post was made exactly at 8 a.m., and within ten minutes, it already had over a thousand comments. The post was pinned. The content wasn’t much—just an apology for the Weibo incident a few days ago, explaining he had been handling personal matters and hadn’t noticed the tag.

The top comments were mostly understanding, full of virtual hugs and kisses for the idol, with all kinds of teasing and affection. A few haters jumped in, saying it was a lame excuse—“personal matters,” “didn’t notice,” just empty words disguised as an apology.

Yang Rou couldn’t take it anymore. Her fingers flew across the screen as she fired back:

Yang Liu Yiyi: Did you even finish elementary school? He got straight to the point and apologized—how’s that making excuses? He didn’t play the victim or say it was beyond his control, just mentioned he had personal matters. These days even telling the truth is considered making excuses? So what do you call someone who bails on an event saying they’re sick, only to get photographed partying in a bar that same night?

Amumu: +1

Juanjuan Is Not Juanjuan: +2 Blackening just to blacken. Disgusting!

—

After roasting the haters, Yang Rou kept reading comments. Someone commented that the idol was so cute and the little sprout on his head was super adorable. She paused, wondering who imagined that. Then someone said he’d finally grown taller—180cm, awesome, and still growing. She remembered his height was listed as 175cm when he debuted. It’d been almost half a year, so growing was natural—but how did they know it was 180?

Was there another post? With that thought, she scrolled up. Sure enough, below the pinned Weibo was another new one.

Jing Ling—Second Most Handsome Under the Heavens V: I’ve grown taller! [Picture]

The comment count had already passed 3,000. She tapped the image—and her blood bar instantly emptied. [“Blood bar empty” is a slang expression meaning she was overwhelmed, stunned, or emotionally knocked out.]

Yang Liu Yiyi: Oh my God, how can male idols be this cute? It’s literally illegal!

In his first drama The Song of Eternal Joy, he’d looked gentle and elegant in women’s clothing, and clean and refined in men’s attire. The behind-the-scenes photos released later showed his warm and charming smile. In his second project, the male third lead in Gu Mengmeng’s Island, his poster looked battered but his features remained flawless. In the teaser released a few days ago, he gave off a dark and chilling beauty, like a blade glinting coldly in the night—beautiful and dangerous.

And normally, his Weibo posts had a cool and aloof tone. No one expected today’s total reversal, and Yang Rou was completely bowled over by the cuteness. Many fans felt the same. Compared to checking in under the leftover-food post, fans were clearly more enthusiastic about this adorable update. Yang Rou could already foresee how astronomical the comment count would get.

Aside from fans, the official Weibo of the movie also reposted it quickly.

Island Movie V: Here’s a surprise for you all—our idol can actually be even cuter! @Jing Ling—Second Most Handsome Under the Heavens: I’ve grown taller! [Picture] [Video]

The video posted by the official account was a behind-the-scenes clip during filming. It was the scene where he first encountered the female lead while she was leaving a tree. He had insisted on doing it himself without a stunt double, so the director had him try climbing the tree as a test.

The comments exploded.

Deep Sea in the Clouds: Idol is too damn handsome!

A-Dong: Now I finally understand why people say humans evolved from monkeys [funny emoji]

It’s a Zero Not an O: +1 No kidding, he climbed that tree in no time—zoom zoom zoom!

Hua Hua Still Beautiful as a Flower Today: I just want to know—why is the idol climbing a tree? Was he bored and testing his agility, or is it part of the plot? The teaser didn’t give that away.

After posting on Weibo, Jing Ling didn’t keep checking the situation. He asked Shen Ze to monitor things and left. Yunshu and Yang Xinyao’s flight home was in the afternoon, so he still had most of the day to play host. But although he had good intentions, things didn’t go quite as planned.

Yunshu got a phone call—from Jiang Sijin.

“Sijin? What’s up?”

“Yunshu, I have something to ask you. This morning I ran into Yunjin in the compound and chatted with her. That’s when I found out your younger brother Yunzhong got injured and is in the hospital. I asked her how it happened, but she didn’t say—just gave me a strange look. Later, I heard from someone else that it happened on the day of my birthday party, at my house. I asked my brother about it, but he wouldn’t say anything either—just told me it had nothing to do with me. I went back to ask Yunjin again and pressed her for a long time before she finally said it was you who called Jing Ling over. Is that true?”