Though the walls held them in, Wang Zhuo and Fu Xinran had become the talk of the town in Taiwan, completely unaware of the stir they caused.

If one were to rank media sensationalism across the globe, Taiwan would surely rank among the top. Numerous newspapers, magazines, and entertainment shows were currently buzzing about the "Two-Fifty Thicker Than a Child’s Arm," with a shocking level of heated discussion. This had spawned countless comical anecdotes, utterly hilarious and enough to make one spit out their drink in laughter.

Unknowingly, Wang Zhuo, who had just played the role of a savior, was being thoroughly entertained by his compatriots.

And as information spread, the hot topic, "The Mainland Girl Bao'er," also piqued the curiosity of many netizens back on the mainland, and searches targeting her identity began quietly unfolding under the banner of nationwide entertainment.

...

Ning Yao was on fire.

This fire wasn't one of anger, but rather tremendous fame and boundless glory!

After that agonizingly tough drama aired, it indeed wrung countless tears from viewers, just as predicted, translating directly into soaring ratings for the TV station, booming advertisement sales, and fierce bidding wars among regional channels for the rights to rebroadcast it.

China hadn't seen a television series so deeply moving, so tear-inducing, and so thought-provoking in many years. The last one might be traced back to the 1990 drama Longing (Kewang), a milestone in Chinese television history that set a viewership peak myth, swept numerous drama awards that year, and influenced an entire era.

Longing was an unparalleled work, and because of its strong era-defining impact, in this current age where TV drama influence is waning, a production capable of creating such a sensation becomes exceedingly rare. Even a show like Struggle (Fendou) only achieved fleeting fame, whereas the term "agony" bestowed upon this new series instantly implied an almost unbeatable dominance.

Looking back at the artistic works throughout human history, tragedy remains the eternally bestselling theme. The more wretched the protagonist's suffering, the more the audience, while wiping away tears, becomes hopelessly entangled in the character’s fate. Wang Zhengdao had precisely captured this successful element; combined with the "agonizing" years of his own early life, the material he wrote naturally resonated deeply, stirring immense empathy in the audience.

In recent years, stories centered around figures like Wang Zhuo have been quite popular—the protagonist unleashes his imposing aura, opponents immediately bow down, and women rush forward in a frenzy, clamoring to throw themselves into his arms. The entire experience can be succinctly summarized by one word: gratification. Yet, "Agony" took the opposite route: the protagonist was tormented to near-death by villains, tormented to near-death by good people, and tormented to near-death by himself, much like Liu Huifang, Little Swallow, Ziwei, or even Tang Monk of old. Huh? Viewers actually loved watching this kind of suffering; the ratings were sky-high!

In reality, "Agony" wasn't entirely dismal. Although it was both tormenting to the lead and painfully grim, it closely mirrored social reality, truly reflecting the bittersweet struggles of the lower strata in contemporary society. Even a passionate young man like Wang Zhuo felt a powerful resonance while watching it. Imagine: the older generation naturally preferred this type of narrative, and the younger generation, including someone as representative as Wang Zhuo, found it deeply engaging. With this combination, what reason did the show have not to be a massive, resounding success?

Thus, the TV series themed around striving, aptly named Struggle, became wildly popular. Director Ning Yao, after winning the Best Actress trophy and lying low for two years, suddenly swept half the sky with her resurgence. Screenwriter Wang Zhengdao, meanwhile, instantly became one of the highest-paid screenwriters in the industry, leading his creative team of previously struggling writers to new prominence.

Ning Yao, currently, was experiencing the joy of good fortune—her spirit refreshed, her pace swift like a horse in the spring breeze.

Two years prior, Divorce, Let's See It Through (Jiang Li Hun Jin Xing Daodi) had finally allowed her to shed the label of a "vase actress." Now, returning to her directorial duties, her debut feature, Struggle, had made her an explosive success, purple with fame.

And who would remember that just a year ago, she was wandering around clutching a lackluster script, begging for a shred of investment capital, only to be rejected everywhere? The entire turning point stemmed from Wang Zhuo. It was Wang Zhuo who introduced her to Wang Zhengdao and this painful script, who provided ample investment, trusted her with complete creative freedom, and, when expenses soared over budget, sent over a check without a second thought, supporting her wholeheartedly.

The more glamorous her success, the deeper Ning Yao’s heartfelt gratitude toward Wang Zhuo became. Other men only coveted her beauty and fame, engaging with her superficially just to get close to her charms. But Wang Zhuo appreciated her talent and supported her genuinely; compared side-by-side, the difference was glaring.

Although the major film and television awards ceremony was still months away, with the unstoppable force of "Agony," Struggle's victory was a foregone conclusion. Best Director and Best Screenwriter were practically sealed; anyone daring to manipulate the results through backroom deals would surely be showered with the audience's verbal venom.

It is rumored that Wang Zhengdao has been constantly busy lately, meeting with directors, auditioning stars, and receiving a deluge of screenwriters eager to join him—like carp crossing a river. His reputation as a ladies' man has somehow begun to spread within the industry, leading all sorts of influential figures to employ every stratagem imaginable to cater to his known preferences.

It is rumored that Teacher Wang has started being picky, favoring the slender type.

It is rumored that he has become so captivated that he has forgotten to return home.

...

In the suburbs of Beijing, nestled in a villa complex on Miaofeng Mountain, an area blessed with lush greenery, clear waters, and blooming flowers.

Wang Zhuo was a hedonist; naturally, he spent the money he earned. Among the five largest and most luxurious villas in this complex, one belonged to him.

He had purchased this villa over half a year ago, yet this was his first visit. Still, after scanning it with his X-ray vision for just half a minute, he gained a thorough understanding of the entire structure.

When he bought the villa, the "Mad Mosquito Disease" hadn't yet surfaced. Later, Wang Zhuo became deeply involved in the development of the Angel project, forcing the planned trip to the snowy capital to be postponed. The delay continued until this late April.

This trip to Beijing was impromptu. Old Master Qin Jingzhong was traveling from Jiangzhou to attend a memorial service for an old comrade in the capital. Since he was using a military transport plane, Wang Zhuo, on a whim, asked to accompany him and managed to snag a seat.

Upon arriving in Beijing, he parted ways with Qin Jingzhong. His presence was hardly required at the former leader’s memorial service. Although he felt a flicker of curiosity about such an event, he wasn't perverse enough to take the place of Qin Jingzhong’s security detail just to get a close look at the nation's top leaders.

Truthfully, another struggle occupied his mind: if he actually met the country's number one or two leaders, his curiosity, driven by his special ability, would compel him to use his X-ray vision. But who knew what trouble that might stir up? Moreover, if he spotted any "minor ailments" on these powerful figures, should he speak up or remain silent?

Wang Zhuo put himself in their shoes. He figured that even if there were other rare individuals in the world with abilities like his, they would likely choose to live in seclusion and freedom rather than servilely attend to the powerful. But one could never be certain. To guard against any capable individuals or special equipment near important figures, he decided it was better to avoid trouble than to invite it.

The theme song from the agonizing drama Struggle drifted melodiously from his phone. Wang Zhuo grinned—it was a call from the great director, Ning Yao.

"Have you rested well? What special food do you want? I'll bring it to you!"

Ning Yao’s voice retained its particular, soft Southern tone, and it was clear from her excitement that she was thrilled about meeting her little lover soon.

Wang Zhuo chuckled slyly, "The great movie queen taking me, this little man, out in public—aren't you worried about rumors?"

Ning Yao burst out laughing and teased back, "I’m so much older than you; people will just assume you’re my junior."

"Dare to take advantage of me," Wang Zhuo hummed, threateningly. "Great Movie Queen, drive over right now, buy a Peking Duck from Quanjude, and bring it to me! Hurry up! If you starve me, watch out for your pictures appearing online later!"

Ning Yao, dressed elegantly after just concluding a gathering with friends in the performing arts circle, instantly felt her cheeks flush hot as a wave of warmth rose from her lower abdomen, surging through her entire body.

Remembering that Wang Zhuo kept volumes of her private photos on his phone—pictures so intimate that their exposure would shock the world—the forbidden thrill fueled Ning Yao’s desire to a burning intensity. She softly whispered, "I'm on my way," and promptly hurried out toward the parking lot.

...

The temperature in the capital was slightly cooler than in Jiangzhou. Wang Zhuo swam five hundred meters in the pool, feeling his vitality surge; the stimulation from the cold water brought on an urgent need for release.

He squeezed a glass of juice, threw on a thick, soft bathrobe, and settled into a rocking chair on the second floor of the villa’s great hall, leisurely swaying as he awaited the arrival of his beauty.

The afternoon sun streamed through the skylight into the villa. The expansive hall was bright, featuring a simple, light style that immediately opened up the chest.

A striking figure in red quietly appeared before him. Wang Zhuo flicked his wrist, and the silent, remote-controlled doors slid open without a sound.

She was a heart-stopping beauty, appearing to be around thirty. Her flawless features were accented by light, elegant makeup. Her figure was somewhat slender but possessed perfectly curved, full, yet not exaggerated, lines. Her long, smooth hair was pinned up high, simple yet conveying a sense of luxurious nobility. She wore a deep red qipao, resembling a red rose unfurling in the spring light.

Wang Zhuo let out a faint laugh. It was an overwhelmingly beautiful scene, yet it was marred by the takeout bag carrying the Peking Duck she held in her hand.

Aside from a brief meeting in Jiangzhou a month ago during Ning Yao’s promotional tour for Struggle, they hadn't truly shared an intimate moment for several months. This reunion, spurred by Wang Zhuo’s teasing words over the phone, had instantly turned dry kindling into a raging fire. From the moment Ning Yao stepped into the living room, sparks were already flying between their gazes.

This was a split-level hall. The first floor encompassed a wide space of nearly a hundred square meters. The semi-mezzanine second floor was about twenty square meters, furnished with A/V equipment, a tea set, and sofas, with thick, spotless carpeting covering the floor.