After the Secrets of the Passerby Were Leaked, He Was Cherished by the Entire Family of Antagonists-Chapter 109

Song Zhehan quickly withdrew his gaze, his smile not faltering in the slightest, as he gave a distant nod. "Hello, I’m Song Zhehan. Want to come in and sit?"

Zhang Qiran’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly. He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to get a word out.

Seeing this, Song Zhehan, ever considerate, added, "It seems like you’re in a bit of a rush. I’ll see you later during the shoot then."

Zhang Qiran’s lips moved, but instead of speaking, his gaze dropped in disappointment. He didn’t say anything else, simply waving goodbye with a forced smile, "No, it’s fine… I’ll go now."

Song Zhehan didn’t stop him. The door closed behind Zhang Qiran as he left.

The smile on Song Zhehan’s face faded. He reclined on the sofa once again.

His agent, observing him, suddenly asked, "Did you get a good impression of that newcomer?"

Lazily, Song Zhehan responded, "Hmm? Why do you say that?"

The agent, who had known him for over a year but still couldn’t fully read his personality, could only answer, "Just a gut feeling."

Song Zhehan gave a slight, ambiguous smile, one that could be seen as mocking or amused. He said softly, "I just think he looks somewhat agreeable. Besides, we’ve only met once—who knows what kind of person he really is? I wouldn’t say I have a good impression."

If Song Zhehan had to describe his feeling, he would use a simple phrase—"not too bad," and that was it.

That was their first meeting as adults.

It wasn’t particularly good, nor was it bad.

In fact, Song Zhehan didn’t even associate Zhang Qiran with Xiang Yang at the time.

He simply didn’t dislike Zhang Qiran.

Perhaps that’s why, when that bucket of ice water was dumped on him later, Song Zhehan’s attitude toward Zhang Qiran shifted dramatically.

It was a freezing winter day. Even though the room was heated, the ice cubes in the water that splashed onto Song Zhehan had barely melted. The shock of the cold water made him almost forget he was on camera—he struggled to maintain his usual calm expression.

Thankfully, Zhang Qiran rushed over, anxiously apologizing, which helped Song Zhehan regain some composure. "It’s fine," he said.

After speaking, he even gave Zhang Qiran a faint smile.

His deep, dark eyes left Zhang Qiran momentarily stunned.

From childhood to adulthood, Song Zhehan had never really changed.

He was petty, vengeful, sarcastic, and sharp-tongued, but he wasn’t unreasonable.

So even though he was angry, he didn’t show it on his face. Instead, he thought through what had happened—why did Zhang Qiran spill the water on him?

They weren’t even on the same team. Young people got carried away in games, and getting splashed was understandable. It wasn’t a big deal.

As Song Zhehan turned to wipe the water off, he thought to himself, "It seems our relationship will go no further than this."

He wouldn’t hold a grudge against Zhang Qiran, but that didn’t mean he would let it go either.

Especially after the recording, when he sneezed three times in a row.

His agent looked at him with concern. "You’ve still got a shoot later tonight. Can you handle it?"

"Whether I can or not, I have to," Song Zhehan replied.

He had only just started his career—so what if he had some fame? The entertainment industry was full of people who could replace him. He couldn’t afford to stop.

His agent suddenly noticed something. "Hmm? Where did this cold medicine come from?"

The assistant rushed in, "It was just brought over by Zhang Qiran’s assistant. He also said—"

"Throw it away," Song Zhehan said coldly, not even glancing at the medicine.

Both the agent and assistant froze at his words.

No one noticed the figure standing just outside the slightly ajar door.

"Why throw it away?" the agent asked. "You don’t look too well right now—you should take it."

"The people I hate the most are hypocrites," Song Zhehan said icily.

The assistant looked at the agent in confusion.

The agent suddenly caught on. "You don’t mean—"

"Yes, of all the guests here, the one I dislike most is Zhang Qiran," Song Zhehan said bluntly, never hiding his true personality around those he trusted. "Throw it away. I won’t accept anything from someone I dislike."

A hurried footstep seemed to pass by outside the door.

Both the agent and assistant turned their heads.

The assistant quickly went out to check, glancing around and sighing in relief. "No one’s there…"

The agent looked back at Song Zhehan, still puzzled. "Why? Earlier today, you said he seemed—"

The door to the waiting room closed again as Zhang Qiran hid in a nearby storage room, his eyes red.

Inside the room, Song Zhehan’s voice remained cold. "I also said earlier that appearances are one thing, but actually interacting with someone is something else."

The agent said no more, only sighing softly. "Let’s go then. You’ve got a shoot tonight. I’ll stop by and get you some medicine on the way. Don’t let yourself get a fever…"

The waiting room door opened again, and Song Zhehan and his team left.

Despite taking the cold medicine his agent later bought, Song Zhehan still came down with a fever after the night’s filming wrapped.

Fortunately, his part of the shoot was done, and he could finally relax a little.

But as the fever clouded his mind and left him feeling dizzy, Song Zhehan couldn’t help but think—it’s all Zhang Qiran’s fault.

That bucket of ice water was just too much.

Still, Song Zhehan hadn’t planned on confronting Zhang Qiran further.

What Song Zhehan didn’t expect was that his decision not to pursue the matter would lead to "retaliation" from Zhang Qiran.

When marketing accounts started comparing the two of them, and negative rumors about Song Zhehan kept piling up, he finally realized how foolish he had been.

He was never one to endure quietly—he would always retaliate if he could.

So that night, Song Zhehan’s agent made the necessary arrangements.

Everyone knows what happened next.

Zhang Qiran stole a role meant for Song Zhehan and snatched away his endorsement deal, sparking a fierce rivalry between them.

After losing two major projects in a row, just when Song Zhehan was thinking of taking a break, a travel variety show invitation came his way.

Initially, Song Zhehan wasn’t particularly invested in the show and didn’t expect it to become a hit after the first day of filming.

As the show’s popularity soared, his agent became increasingly nervous.

Whenever the cameras weren’t rolling, she would send him messages, reminding him to stay composed and keep his public image intact.

Song Zhehan found these messages amusing.

Was it possible that his public image had already cracked on the first day of recording?

Song Zhehan had two private Weibo accounts—one for lurking in his anti-fan groups and another for venting about the industry.

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After the first day’s filming, his anti-fan group exploded with excitement, editing together every out-of-character moment from that day’s shoot.

Song Zhehan watched the compilation himself.

He had to admit, the anti-fans were more observant than his regular fans. They had caught every subtle emotional shift that he hadn’t fully concealed.

If this had happened at any other time, Song Zhehan would have taken this as a lesson and aimed to do better the next day

.

But for some reason, that night, after watching the video, Song Zhehan thought of Ye Leyao.

Ye Leyao and Song Zhehan were complete opposites.

One was constantly playing a role for the cameras, while the other was always unapologetically himself.

When Du Yueqin stirred up trouble between two female artists, Ye Leyao eagerly watched the drama unfold.

When Li Siyuan clashed with Du Yueqin, Ye Leyao’s eyes nearly sparkled with excitement.

And when Du Yueqin made advances on Zhou Zijian, Ye Leyao practically grinned from ear to ear.

Song Zhehan found it all fascinating.

It was the first time he had encountered an artist so unashamed of their emotions.

No, it wasn’t that Ye Leyao didn’t try to conceal his feelings—he just didn’t hide them very well.

In fact, anyone could see the gossip gleaming in his eyes.

After posting another snarky tweet, Song Zhehan suddenly felt exhausted.

He couldn’t help but wonder—why couldn’t he be more like Ye Leyao?

Playing a character completely different from his true self was exhausting, and he constantly worried about being replaced.

Ever since he debuted, Song Zhehan had been tired.

But on *Travel Together*, he had found a brief moment of joy.

Suddenly, Song Zhehan wanted to try something—what if he stopped pretending? Would his fans still like him?

Once that thought took root, Song Zhehan couldn’t wait to test it out.

After the first episode wrapped, he shared his thoughts with his agent.

Her response?

If he truly wanted to let go of his public image, he would have to bear the consequences alone.

The company wouldn’t protect him, and neither would she.

His path was his own to choose, but the agent had her own choices too.

She asked, "So, do you still want to go through with it?"

Song Zhehan looked at her and suddenly smiled. "Why not?"

His agent was stunned.

But Song Zhehan said nothing more. He waved her off and walked away.

After that, his agent tried several more times to talk to him about his image, hoping he would reconsider.

But Song Zhehan refused. Once he made a decision, he never changed his mind easily.

Just as he had thrown away that SIM card years ago, his resolve was unwavering.

The second recording of the show was the most relaxed Song Zhehan had ever felt since his debut.

Though he wanted to show his true self immediately, he had to be mindful of not shocking the other guests.

So in this episode, Song Zhehan’s changes were subtle and gradual.

Until the production team handed him a golden opportunity.

Song Zhehan knew it was a rare chance.

Without hesitation, he revealed his private account to the public.

In that moment, he felt a sense of freedom like never before.

When his agent called him afterward, he remained completely calm.

What surprised Song Zhehan the most, though, was his agent’s reaction.

In the end, she didn’t truly let go of him.

She had discovered and nurtured him from the start, and now that he was gaining fame, she couldn’t bear to give up such a promising talent. Besides, she realized that Song Zhehan had a point.

Today’s audiences weren’t fools. Rather than maintaining a false image, it was better to show his true self.

So his agent made her choice.

And Song Zhehan didn’t disappoint her.

The fans accepted an imperfect Song Zhehan—many even liked him more for it.

Song Zhehan felt a mix of emotions, but mostly, he felt free.

Because at last, he had escaped the prison he had built for himself.

That’s why he sought out Ye Leyao and earnestly thanked him.

Unfortunately, Ye Leyao didn’t understand the meaning behind the thanks, staring back at Song Zhehan in confusion.

Song Zhehan didn’t explain, only smiled and left.

Though the public reaction had been contained for now, there was still much for Song Zhehan to handle in the coming days.

First and foremost, the company’s higher-ups.

Despite his victory, they weren’t pleased with him acting on his own.

At the first meeting, they even discussed suing him for breach of contract.

By the time everything was settled, it was the day before the third episode’s recording.

Earlier, the production team had asked Song Zhehan which guest he wanted to invite for the next episode.

Like everyone else, the regular guests were all curious about Zhou Zijian’s potential drama, so Song Zhehan had immediately suggested Wen Huai.

However, that morning, the team informed him that Wen Huai had declined, and they asked him to suggest another guest.

Song Zhehan hadn’t slept in two days, and when he saw the message, he really couldn’t think of anyone.

Despite being in the industry for a year, Song Zhehan didn’t have many close friends among the other artists, though he had plenty of people he disliked.

That’s when he thought of Zhang Qiran.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but smile.

If he invited Zhang Qiran, he’d probably refuse, right?

But Song Zhehan wanted to try anyway.

So, without hesitation, he sent Zhang Qiran’s name.

To his surprise, Zhang Qiran agreed.

It was completely unexpected.

With Zhang Qiran joining the show, this episode was bound to be more interesting. Song Zhehan suddenly felt a spark of anticipation.

The day of the recording arrived in no time.

All the guests were curious about who Song Zhehan had invited, and Zhou Zijian, in particular, was sweating nervously from their teasing.

When Zhang Qiran got into the car, Zhou Zijian let out a huge sigh of relief.

Ye Leyao, on the other hand, looked at Song Zhehan in surprise. It was clear he knew about the history between Song Zhehan and Zhang Qiran.

That made things even more interesting.

As Song Zhehan observed Zhang Qiran, he noticed that the younger man seemed nervous, as if he sensed Song Zhehan’s hostility. His eyes, usually so striking, were now filled with unease, and he avoided eye contact.

The more nervous Zhang Qiran became, the more amused Song Zhehan felt.

Now that he was fully embracing his true self, he was happy to make others uncomfortable.

Without much thought, Song Zhehan approached Zhang Qiran with a smile.

When he got closer, he could clearly see Zhang Qiran gulp nervously.

Was he that scared of him?

Afraid, but still willing to copy his image, steal his roles, and take his opportunities?

How interesting.

Why hadn’t he noticed Zhang Qiran was this timid before?

A mischievous thought popped into Song Zhehan’s mind. He couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more, eager to see what reaction Zhang Qiran would have.

So, Song Zhehan suggested they share a room, using it as an excuse to mock Yu Bai and drag Zhang Qiran into the joke.

Even after Yu Bai’s scandal was exposed, Song Zhehan didn’t forget to scare Zhang Qiran a little more.

What he didn’t expect was just how easily Zhang Qiran was frightened. The guy actually ran out early in the morning, crying as he called his agent—only to run into Ye Leyao.

After that, Zhang Qiran insisted on quitting the show.

Li Siyuan even joked that he had scared Zhang Qiran off.

But Song Zhehan found the whole thing boring.

He hadn’t even said much—just a few words, really. He hadn’t even started doing anything, and yet Zhang Qiran was already this scared.

But what did it matter to Song Zhehan?

As for whether Zhang Qiran quit or not, it didn’t concern him.

By the end of the day’s filming, Song Zhehan had vented enough.

If Zhang Qiran really wanted to quit now, so be it.

But for some reason, Qin Yao managed to talk Zhang Qiran into staying.

The next day, throughout the entire shoot, Zhang Qiran wore a hat and kept his distance from Song Zhehan, as if he were some sort of dangerous predator.

Song Zhehan found it amusing and couldn’t help but wonder how swollen Zhang Qiran’s eyes were.

Unfortunately, Zhang Qiran hid himself well. Song Zhehan only managed to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Beneath the brim of his hat, Zhang Qiran’s eyes were red and puffy. Not terrifying, but a little pitiful.

Something flickered in Song Zhehan’s gaze, but he quickly suppressed it.

He didn’t dwell on it, nor did he step forward to play the role of the good guy.

But he also decided not to antagonize Zhang Qiran anymore.

Perhaps—

It was because Song Zhehan hated seeing people cry.

That night, the atmosphere was lively, and everyone was in a good mood. They gathered together and drank quite a bit.

Since his debut, Song Zhehan hadn’t drunk much, but he had a high tolerance, inherited from his parents who could drink without getting drunk.

So even after several rounds, his mind remained sharp.

As the gathering was about to wind down, Zhou Zijian suddenly asked, "Zhang, can you still drink?"

Everyone turned to look at Zhang Qiran.

Song Zhehan glanced at him too, noticing that he was clearly drunk, but he didn’t care.

He even had the mood to tease Ye Leyao a little.

Not because Song Zhehan was interested in Ye Leyao—he had long since figured out that there was something going on between Ye Leyao and Qin Yao, so he was just poking fun.

Unfortunately, Ye Leyao

, being his usual clueless self, only got mad, accusing Song Zhehan of being narcissistic.

Song Zhehan found it funny, but at that moment, the sharp sound of a chair scraping across the floor broke the mood.

Everyone looked up at Zhang Qiran.

He was staring directly at Song Zhehan.

They locked eyes for a few seconds, and Song Zhehan realized that Zhang Qiran was well and truly drunk.

It amused him, and he felt like teasing him more, so he asked, "What? You want to drink with me? Sorry, but I don’t drink with drunks—"

Before he could finish, Zhang Qiran interrupted loudly, "You didn’t like the cake I gave you?"

Song Zhehan’s brows furrowed deeply.

Suddenly, he regretted provoking a drunk person. Had he known, he wouldn’t have spoken up at all.

But now that Zhang Qiran had found an outlet for his emotions, he wouldn’t let go. He continued to angrily berate Song Zhehan, his voice even cracking with sobs.

Everyone around them was watching Song Zhehan like he was some kind of heartless villain.

Irritated and slightly annoyed, Song Zhehan wanted to reason with Zhang Qiran, but then he heard Zhang’s tearful voice say, "I’ll never like you again! Song Zhehan, you’re a liar!"

For a moment, Song Zhehan’s expression went blank.

What did he just hear?

Zhang Qiran liked him?

Wasn’t that ridiculous?

Why would Zhang Qiran like him?

And how could he dare?

Song Zhehan found it laughable, even absurd.

But there was no point in arguing with a drunk. For a moment, his face darkened.

When Ye Leyao turned to him with a suspicious look, Song Zhehan couldn’t hold back anymore. "I’ve only ever eaten cake twice in my life—and one time, it was a sheep’s milk cake given to me by a junior in middle school…"

Before he could finish the sentence, Song Zhehan suddenly froze.

That’s right.

He’d been allergic to cow’s milk since he was a child, so he couldn’t eat anything with dairy in it.

Most people, after learning this, would simply avoid giving him anything containing milk.

But one person was different. That person would go out of his way to find alternatives, trying various substitutes to make something edible for Song Zhehan.

In all his years, Song Zhehan had only ever eaten cake twice.

The first time was in elementary school, when his deskmate gave him a piece of cake at school.

After eating it, he had an allergic reaction and ended up in the hospital.

That was when they discovered his milk allergy.

The second time was when Xiang Yang gave him a cake.

It was a small six-inch cake with no fancy decorations, but it tasted incredibly good.

That afternoon, after Xiang Yang brought the cake, Song Zhehan had sat down with a spoon and eaten every last bite.

Afterward, Xiang Yang had blushed and asked him in a small voice if he liked it.

Without thinking, Song Zhehan had replied that he did.

Then Xiang Yang said, "If you like it, I’ll make you more in the future, okay?"

Song Zhehan had looked at him, surprised. "You made this?"

Xiang Yang, embarrassed, nodded, his fair face flushed pink. Whether it was from the sunset or his shyness, his face was bright red.

Shyly, he looked away and said softly but firmly, "If you like it, I’ll keep making cakes for you."

All these years later, Song Zhehan couldn’t remember exactly what day it had been.

All he remembered was the sunset, Xiang Yang’s ears turning bright red, and for a brief moment, his own heartbeat seeming to skip as he smiled and replied, "Okay."

Now, Song Zhehan looked up and stared intently at Zhang Qiran.

Zhang Qiran was crying miserably. His eyes were red and swollen, tears streaming down his face, and his dark eyes were misty—exactly like the ones from his memories.

It had been nine years since they last saw each other.

The features of the boy in his memory had long since blurred.

But now, at this moment, that face was once again clear.

Song Zhehan felt a strong pulse in his chest.

He didn’t know how long he stared at Zhang Qiran—maybe just a few seconds, or maybe several minutes.

Before long, Zhang Qiran, looking pitiful and teary-eyed, dropped his head, his shoulders trembling as he sobbed.

Just like the boy who used to follow him around, crying uncontrollably whenever he was upset.

Only this time, instead of quietly begging Song Zhehan not to be mad, he angrily muttered through his tears, "Song Zhehan is a jerk… He’s so mean…"

Slowly, Song Zhehan stood up.

It took all his willpower to maintain control and not lose his composure. He walked over and sat down next to Zhang Qiran.

In truth, there were many questions he wanted to ask.

But none of them were appropriate in a room full of people, so he chose a different question.

Despite trying his best to keep his tone calm and not too harsh, perhaps because of the resentment he still held from high school, or maybe because of the lingering pain from their final year of middle school, Song Zhehan couldn’t fully suppress his emotions.

He had always been impatient.

He hated tears and hated it even more when someone cried near him.

But after meeting Xiang Yang, those things didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Now, watching Zhang Qiran sobbing miserably, explaining through his tears, the anger that had been festering in Song Zhehan’s heart found its release.

After hearing Zhang Qiran’s reason for splashing him with water, he almost wanted to call him stupid.

But the words caught in his throat and he swallowed them back. He took the tissues offered by Huo Yan and handed them to Zhang Qiran.

Patiently, he explained why he had been angry back then, even throwing in some self-pity for good measure.

As expected, Zhang Qiran felt bad for him.

Song Zhehan couldn’t help himself and added, "Are you an idiot? How long ago was that?"

The moment he said it, Song Zhehan froze.

Yeah, how long ago had it been?

Even now, Song Zhehan still harbored resentment over Xiang Yang’s sudden departure without a word.

Zhang Qiran was foolish.

But wasn’t Song Zhehan just as foolish?

If Zhang Qiran hadn’t been foolish, he wouldn’t have taken on those two thankless roles and endorsements.

If Song Zhehan weren’t foolish, he wouldn’t still be clinging to every memory connected to Xiang Yang.

The summer after graduating from high school, Song Zhehan had thought that his feelings had long since faded with time.

But five years later, as he finally unearthed the remnants of that affection, he realized that beneath that short-lived love was a vast forest.

So when everyone else had left, and it was just him and Zhang Qiran alone in the room, Song Zhehan got up and turned off the surveillance camera.

Facing Zhang Qiran’s swollen, tear-streaked eyes, Song Zhehan asked, "Why?"

The room was dimly lit. Zhang Qiran was genuinely exhausted from crying, his head foggy. He mumbled, "Huh? Why what?"

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Song Zhehan heard himself ask, "Why did you never contact me again after you transferred schools?"

The room fell into silence.

Song Zhehan didn’t know how long they sat there in silence. All he knew was that just before his patience ran out, Zhang Qiran’s hoarse voice finally broke through. "I…"

He opened his eyes, and fresh tears welled up. Staring intently at Song Zhehan, Zhang Qiran choked out, "Song Zhehan… you knew my dad was sick, really sick… He had been suffering from his illness for so long. I knew he didn’t have much time left, but… my dad didn’t die from his illness…"

Suddenly, Song Zhehan understood.

Zhang Qiran’s voice trembled as he continued, "He… he…"

"Xiang Yang," Song Zhehan interrupted, not wanting to hear any more.

But Zhang Qiran had already finished his sentence, "He jumped from the fourth floor of our house right in front of me…"

That single, simple sentence pierced through the nine years of distance between them, shattering all the barriers, and leaving Song Zhehan’s heart in pieces.

Song Zhehan regretted it.