The Ex's Tears Are So Hot - Chapter 37

The moment the trending post blew up, the live broadcast room practically froze.

“Who the hell is this?” Xie Zhixin scowled, anger boiling over. In full view of the camera, he didn’t even try to hold back: “Seriously? What’s your problem?”

Xiao He scrolled through Weibo and pieced the situation together. “It’s Li Muye—the male lead from another team on Director’s Evolution. He’s been on the show for a few seasons already and thinks of himself as a regular.”

Guan Jinnian blinked. “And… what does that have to do with me?”

Xiao He showed him a post from a gossip account. “Probably felt threatened. Your name’s been all over the feed today—his drama’s promo’s getting buried. He’s throwing a tantrum, basically.”

He didn’t say the rest, but it was obvious: Li Muye’s outburst was driven by pure jealousy.

【What’s this dude’s damage??】
【He’s off his rocker. Literally unprovoked.】
【Classic case of being salty. Jealousy’s never a good look.】
【Isn’t he the one trying to ride our popularity? Puh-lease.】

Xiao He turned to Guan Jinnian. “Should we post a response?”

Jinnian shook his head. “No need to get messy.”

He had mentally prepared for this the moment he agreed to join Director’s Evolution. Criticism, rivalry—he knew the road ahead wouldn’t be smooth. But he had no intention of stooping to someone else’s level just because they barked louder online.

With a calm smile, he joked, “Guess I really have to act well now, huh? Otherwise, it’s not just Director Hu who’ll be embarrassed—I’ll have to move back home and sell persimmon cakes.”

Right then, he caught a glimpse of furious typing beside him.

Sure enough, Xie Zhixin was writing a full-on Weibo rebuttal. Like a manifesto. Jinnian snatched the phone in horror and deleted the whole thing in one click.

“You—! I’m just mad he insulted you!” Zhixin pouted, shrinking under Jinnian’s glare. “They say we’re doing fake couple stuff, so as the actual CP captain, it’s only fair I fight back, right?”

Jinnian crossed his arms. “That’s what you call a ‘response’? That was a whole essay.”

“He started it,” Zhixin muttered, not backing down.

With a sigh, Jinnian confiscated the phone and tousled Zhixin’s hair until it was a mess.

“I get it. You’re angry for me. But if you respond like that, people will say you’re inciting fan wars. Have you thought about what kind of fallout that brings?”

Zhixin stayed quiet, clearly aware—but he just didn’t care.

“Don’t hurt yourself for my sake, okay?” Jinnian said gently, cupping his cheeks.

Zhixin’s eyes softened. “Did I put pressure on you?”

Jinnian hesitated, then chose honesty. “A little.”

“I messed up again…” Zhixin murmured, eyes dropping.

“It’s fine. I know you’re trying to protect me. But I want to protect you too. If people bashed you because of me, I’d feel awful.”

Zhixin brightened instantly, his expression doing a full 180. Fans in the comments practically melted:

【These two are KILLING me. I need insulin.】
【Guan Jinnian is so emotionally mature—I respect him so much more now.】
【He’s seriously looking out for Xie Zhixin’s future. That’s real love.】
【Thank god it’s someone like Jinnian. Otherwise with Zhixin’s reckless devotion, he’d get eaten alive.】
【Fans, take note. You got a thoughtful, protective “sister-in-law.” Be grateful.】

Praise flooded in. Even fans who’d previously disliked Jinnian quietly changed their minds.

Then, something even more unexpected happened: a huge Xie Zhixin fan publicly apologized to Guan Jinnian.

@WeiLovesZhixin:

I’ll admit it—I never liked Guan Jinnian much. Maybe even resented him.

But today, I’m sorry.

Hearing him stop Zhixin from acting on impulse… it hit me. He really does care.

We weren’t angry because we hated him. We were afraid—afraid their relationship would ruin our brother’s career.

But until Zhixin himself accidentally revealed it, no one even knew they’d been dating. That silence? That restraint? That’s love.

Let’s stop treating Jinnian like the enemy. He deserves better.

Her post went viral. Suddenly, one by one, other fans who had once flamed Guan Jinnian began posting apologies too. The wave of support was overwhelming—and it completely drowned out the noise from Li Muye’s smear campaign.

So much so that even Director Hu called Jinnian in shock.

“Bro… did you hire a PR firm or something?! That was master-level public relations!”

Jinnian laughed. “Pure luck.”

He spent the next few days showing the livestream audience the ins and outs of making persimmon cakes. It was peaceful—and it even led to a huge sales bump for his family business.

When filming wrapped, Jinnian packed up to head to the Director’s Evolution set to sign his contract.

Naturally, Zhixin insisted on tagging along. His separation anxiety was no joke.

Of course, their joint appearance raised even more eyebrows—and buzz.

They had just arrived at Orange Video’s headquarters when they bumped into a few familiar faces. Jinnian felt the judgmental glances. He straightened his posture instinctively, all composure.

Zhixin, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less. Completely unbothered.

Director Hu greeted them at the elevator.

“Teacher Guan! Teacher Xie! Been waiting for you both. We’ve had quite a day on Weibo, huh?”

Zhixin offered a polite nod, his attitude chilly as ever. Jinnian, all grace and manners, shook Hu’s hand and smiled—but didn’t rise to the teasing.

As they headed to sign the contract, Hu pulled Jinnian aside.

“Just a heads-up… Li Muye’s in the building too. You okay?”

Jinnian shrugged. “Why would I be scared of him?”

“Exactly,” Hu groaned. “The guy’s impossible to deal with. If I didn’t have to work with him, I’d slap him with the script.”

And speak of the devil…

Before they reached the office, Li Muye appeared, draped in a heavy coat, wig still on from filming. A tired assistant followed behind, struggling with costume boxes and shoes.

Hu shot them a look: Yep, it’s him.

Jinnian sighed. “You really jinxed it.”

Li Muye didn’t notice them at first. He was muttering lines and snapping at the assistant to hurry up.

But when her box started slipping, Jinnian instinctively stepped in to help.

That small act caught Li Muye’s attention.

He looked up—and sneered. “Wow. Still pretending to be a saint, huh?”

Jinnian ignored him. But Zhixin had been itching to throw hands since this morning.

“You wanna repeat that?” he said coldly, eyes narrowing.

Li Muye scoffed. “Wow, how noble. Should I apologize to your precious little princess, Sir Knight?”

Hu couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you not be so disrespectful?”

Li Muye laughed. “Oh look, another white knight. Teacher Guan really knows how to reel them in.”

That did it—Zhixin was about to explode.

Before he could throw a punch, Jinnian pulled him back.

With a smirk, he raised an eyebrow at Li Muye. “You’ve been weirdly obsessed with me lately. Don’t tell me… you’ve got a secret crush?”

Li Muye looked like he’d choked on air. Couldn’t even speak.

Jinnian chuckled and turned to leave with Zhixin in tow—but of course, Li Muye kept barking.

“You think it’s fair? You don’t do half the work and still get all the attention. Must be nice, huh? Riding high just because your boyfriend’s famous.”

People started peeking out of rooms. The commotion was loud.

Li Muye wasn’t alone in his resentment—but most people had the decency to keep it to themselves. Only he threw public tantrums like a toddler.

Jinnian, done playing the quiet victim, finally shot back.

“Remind me, what’s your most acclaimed work again? Just so I, a ‘lowly short drama actor,’ can take notes.”

Polite smile. But his words? Ice.

“Oh wait—you’ve never even starred in a proper movie. But the way you talk, anyone would think you’ve already won Best Actor.”

“You—!” Li Muye sputtered.

Jinnian didn’t stop.

“You claim to be so above it all, but you’re the one starting fights online and trash-talking people in hallways. Couldn’t possibly be jealous… right?”

He leaned into Zhixin’s arms with a lazy grin, voice low but clear.

“If this counterattack makes you so mad… then tell me: what else are you bitter about?”