Chapter 11: What an Explosive Piece of Gossip!

The man was dressed in a black bespoke suit, his shoulders broad and his legs long. His features were sharp, hard-edged, and sculpted, radiating an aura of noble intimidation. Standing together, he was even taller than Zhang Hexing, exuding the quintessential vibe of a high-powered business executive.

"Brother?" Zhang Hexing froze, blurting out, "What are you doing here?"

"Surprise," Jing Zhuo uttered, though his expression remained perfectly calm, devoid of any joy.

He snatched the microphone and spoke fluently to the audience: "Thank you all for your love for Zhang Hexing. As his boss behind the scenes, I brought him a special surprise today. I wish him a flourishing career and a brilliant future."

The entire venue was shocked. The entire venue fell silent.

Gossip began to bubble up instantly. Oh no, it was a disaster—had their idol been kept by a benefactor? Did the sugar daddy come all the way to the stage because he was jealous? What a sensational scoop!

The camera flashes continued. Under the piercing gaze of the audience, they watched as the tall, imposing benefactor gripped the delicate, handsome star’s wrist, lingering with an air of deep, inseparable intimacy. They exchanged looks as if no one else existed.

Song Xi was also left shell-shocked by the scene. She stared at the man before her, her pupils dilating in disbelief.

This... this... wasn't this her convenient husband? He was Zhang Hexing's benefactor? And Zhang Hexing was his kept canary? Then who was she? Was she just a pawn in their twisted game?

Within seconds, Song Xi’s mind brainstormed the entire truth of the situation. No wonder he had married her on a whim; no wonder he was so generous toward her; no wonder he was so tall, handsome, and cold—how could such a man ever settle for her as a wife?

He was gay. He had sought her out just to act as a "beard" for his closeted life! Not only had she been deceived by a closeted gay man, but she had also walked straight into this mortifying public spectacle.

Zhang Hexing was even more panicked than she was. He grabbed the microphone back and started babbling: "Don't misunderstand, everyone! This is my brother—my actual brother! Thank you for your words, brother!"

The crowd was in chaos. The livestream comments went wild.

[Got it, it’s just socialist brotherly love!]
[I heard Zhang Hexing only has a sister. Where did this brother come from? Though, rumors about a powerful benefactor behind him are true.]
[Sob, my baby has been tarnished. Damn those capitalists!]
[Don't just believe everything you hear. They said he's his brother, maybe they're innocent! Stop spreading rumors!]
[Girls, have you never read a CEO romance novel? That was a classic "chasing the wife through a crematorium" moment! The benefactor was jealous and jumped on stage to compete with the fans. Can’t you see how ambiguous their eye contact was?]
[I feel so sorry for that girl in the audience. I’m cringing on her behalf; if I were her, I’d want to disappear into thin air.]

Amidst the chaos, Song Xi took the opportunity to bolt. When she returned to the seats, she found that Zhang Hening had vanished. Good grief, she’d quit being a fan and run away even faster than she had! Unable to stay any longer, Song Xi slipped out of the theater with her camera bag.

As soon as she exited the building, a black Bentley pulled up in front of her. A young driver in a suit walked over. "Madam, Mr. Jing invites you to get in the car."

It was over. Time to settle the score. Song Xi gulped. Thinking that this matter had to be resolved immediately, she got into the car.

It was early spring, and the car's air conditioning was running, filling the space with a warm, familiar scent of cedarwood. The car was empty. Mr. Jing himself was clearly still in the theater, busy supporting his "canary."

Song Xi sat on pins and needles. After about ten minutes, the door opened, and the man’s tall, lean frame slid in, making the space feel suddenly cramped. He leaned back against the seat, tugged at his tie, and undid two buttons, revealing a glimpse of his elegant collarbone. He seemed to be catching his breath, or perhaps, fuming.

Song Xi kept her distance. After waiting a while and hearing nothing from him, she decided to take the initiative.

"Um... Jing..."

"Jing Zhuo," the man replied.

"Oh... Jing Zhuo, let's get a divorce."

Jing Zhuo: "?"