Marrying the Male Lead’s Disabled Uncle – Chapter 27

Yan Han knew that Su Jia listened to this singer—after all, he was the one who had recommended it.

But… did he have to be so blatant?

His ID was practically an open confession, and yet, he dared to publicly complain about his “moody and inhumane boss” in front of thousands of people.

If people found out who his boss was…

Where would Yan Han put his face?

Although, to be fair… even if Su Jia didn’t say it, everyone already knew Yan Han had zero humanity.

They just kept it to themselves.

Only this fool actually said it out loud—and in the form of a public complaint at that!

How morally bankrupt could he be?

Was he so sure that his “inhuman boss” wouldn’t be watching this live broadcast?

Pei Lang’s Crisis Management

Pei Lang also noticed the suspicious ID.

At first, he wasn’t sure.

But after reading the complaints carefully…

Who else could “the moody and inhumane boss” be referring to besides Yan Han?

All that was missing was an actual name tag.

Pei Lang hadn’t expected Su Jia to be lurking in his live broadcast room.

Even worse—other fans, out of kindness, had started comforting Su Jia and agreeing with his complaints about the boss.

At this rate, he was going to dig his own grave.

Pei Lang couldn’t just call him out directly…

So he awkwardly shifted the topic instead.

“Alright, how about I sing a song for everyone?”

(Xiao Suzi, you better thank the heavens that Mr. Yan isn’t the type to watch live broadcasts. Otherwise, you’d be dead meat.)

Meanwhile, everyone in the comments called him Uncle, except for Su Jia, whose brightly colored username stood out like a neon sign, calling him “Dad.”

Pei Lang, as a “father,” suddenly felt deep concern for his “child’s” future.

A Song for the Fans

Putting aside the chaos, Pei Lang picked up his guitar, adjusted the sound, and started to play.

Even though his fans had begged him to rest, the moment he announced he was going to sing, the chat exploded with excitement.

Before he even started, the flattery began pouring in.

Meanwhile, Yan Han temporarily put aside Su Jia’s crimes and focused on listening.

The singer’s voice was strangely familiar.

It was slow, gentle—not overpowering, not artificial—just comfortable.

Yan Han had never thought he’d care about someone’s voice.

Maybe because he couldn’t see the singer’s face, all his focus was on the voice itself.

And the more he listened, the more familiar it became.

“This is a cover of someone else’s song. I hope you like it.”

With that, Pei Lang began the intro to a song called “Spend the Long Years with You.”

A Song That Doesn’t Exist

Unknown to the fans, this song had never existed in this world before.

It wasn’t an original composition by Pei Lang—just a song from his past life.

His audience simply assumed it was a niche song that wasn’t well known.

Some tried to search for it online…

Only to find nothing.

But before they could dwell on it, Pei Lang’s voice filled the broadcast—and soon, the entire platform.

“After walking through the crowds,
You have to appreciate it even if you don’t like it…
I am a silent existence,
I won’t be your world, I will only be your shoulder…”

His voice was like a whispered confession, sincere and beautiful.

Paired with the melancholic lyrics, it pierced the hearts of his listeners.

The number of viewers skyrocketed, and soon, his live broadcast was being shared across platforms.

Fans React—And So Does the Internet

The live chat was filled with:

• Poetic confessions

• Beautifully written comments

• Emotional outpourings

But on the wider internet, where the song was spreading uncontrollably…

The reaction was far less composed.

The public chat was filled with a flood of quintessential Chinese netizen reactions:

“Wow!”
“Ahhhhhhh!!”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS VOICE!!”

And of course, there were also some… odd ones.

Like Su Jia, who continued to enthusiastically call him “Dad.”

Pei Lang glanced at the comments, then strategically ignored Su Jia and continued singing.

“Accompany you to live out the answers to your thoughts along the way,
Accompany you to turn loneliness into courage…”

By the time the song ended, even the fans who had been nagging him to rest had fallen silent.

Those who hadn’t heard enough begged for another song.

Pei Lang complied, chatting and singing for a while longer.

He ended up performing three songs, and time flew by without him noticing.

But the moment he ended the broadcast and checked his phone—

He was stunned.

He was trending.

Not just once—twice.

#Xiao Yelang Live Broadcast (Explosion)
#Pei Lang Once Used Special Means to Get the Role (Explosion)

One full of praise.

The other filled with insults.

Pei Lang blinked.

…What the hell?

Two Trending Searches, Two Opposite Reactions

The first trend was from his live stream.

His performance had been so well-received that someone had recorded the entire thing, converted it into an audio file, and shared it over 3 million times.

The comments section was filled with admiration, albeit some a little too dramatic:

[— Uncle is amazing. He’s over 50 and still working so hard. He must have loved singing when he was younger, but gave up his dream for some reason. It must have been so painful for him to reclaim it now. Time has worn him down, yet he still shines o(╥﹏╥)o.]

Pei Lang: …Thanks, but do you want to write a novel about my tragic past while you’re at it?

*[— This song is beautiful, and his voice is even better. Ahhh, Uncle, keep going! Your future is bright!]

Pei Lang: …I’m already “over 50” in your eyes. What kind of future do you think I have left!?

The second trend, however, was clearly orchestrated by haters.

Someone was deliberately stirring up controversy about his casting as Wen Yan.

The “water army” (hired trolls) had perfectly synchronized their talking points—

Dragging up his past scandals, listing his every mistake, and emphasizing that he had no talent.

They didn’t outright claim that he got the role through shady means—likely to avoid offending Director Jin.

Instead, they insinuated it.

Mocking him openly and indirectly, making it clear that they believed—

Pei Lang wasn’t worthy of the role.

Pei Lang sighed.

…So the battle begins.

Public opinion is a powerful force.

As negative rumors spread, netizens boycotted the drama, swearing they would never watch a show starring Pei Lang—not even if it was directed by Jin.

Even fans of the male and female leads were in distress.

Although they adored their idols, many tearfully announced that they had no choice but to abandon the show because of Pei Lang’s presence.

Pei Lang scrolled through the endless waves of criticism, feeling mentally drained.

Being insulted was fine—he had long expected it.

What worried him was dragging Director Jin down with him.

Jin had personally chosen Pei Lang, and it would be devastating if public pressure forced him to compromise his artistic vision.

Just as Pei Lang sighed in frustration, his phone rang.

Director Jin.

Pei Lang took a deep breath and answered, mentally bracing for the worst.

“Director Jin!”

Director Jin’s Call

“I saw the trending searches,” Director Jin said.

Pei Lang’s heart tightened.

He was certain the director was going to drop him from the project.

But then—

“Don’t worry. The role of Wen Yan belongs to you.

“I don’t care about the truth or rumors in the entertainment industry.

“Just focus on your performance and act well.”

…

Pei Lang hadn’t expected comfort instead of condemnation.

For a second, he felt even more nervous—

Why is he being so nice to me? I don’t deserve this…

“Thank you, Director Jin!” Pei Lang said quickly. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

Jin chuckled. “You’re too polite. Junior Brother Yan recommended you—how could I not back you up?

“Besides, you have great potential. I have over 90% confidence that you’ll bring Wen Yan to life.”

Pei Lang was stunned.

“Junior Brother Yan?”

“You mean… Mr. Yan?”

“Yeah, surprising, right?” Jin laughed.

“I wasn’t originally a film major—I studied finance before switching careers.

“Yan Han and I were schoolmates. We also crossed paths in entertainment investments.”

Jin was in his late 30s, while Yan Han was 32—so the age gap wasn’t large.

Because of this connection, and because Pei Lang was a talented newcomer, Director Jin had decided to personally back him up.

But ultimately, it was Pei Lang’s ability that secured the role.

“Alright, kid. Prepare well. I’ll see you on set,” Jin said before hanging up—probably off to shoot a night scene.

Official Response & Mysterious Cleanup

Moments later, the crew’s official Weibo posted a statement:

“The role of Wen Yan belongs to Pei Lang.”

Despite protests from netizens, nothing could be done.

And then—

Just a few minutes later, the negative trending search vanished.

Completely erased.

The timing was too perfect.

Pei Lang had been in this industry long enough to recognize the signs.

Someone had intervened.

And only one person in this world would bother helping him.

Yan Han.

A Visit to the Study

It was only 9 PM, and Yan Han was still awake.

Pei Lang decided to go find him.

Pushing open the study door, he found Yan Han at his desk, working on his computer.

He didn’t even glance up when Pei Lang entered.

But—

The tiny figure on his shoulder immediately noticed him.

The little fox perched on top of a huge document, tilting its head in confusion.

Pei Lang smiled, walked over, and carefully sat beside Yan Han.

“Mr. Yan, you’ve been working all day. How about taking a break?”

Yan Han, absorbed in his work, didn’t respond.

His features were sharp, his posture unwavering—

If only he smiled more often, Pei Lang thought, he could probably make people dizzy.

Wait—

Are his ears red?

The tips of Yan Han’s ears had turned a faint shade of pink.

It wasn’t too noticeable, but the tiny figure on his shoulder had already covered its ears, glaring at Pei Lang in a mix of shame and frustration.

Was the weather too hot?

Pei Lang subtly glanced at their outfits.

Unlike himself—who lounged around in a T-shirt and shorts—Yan Han always wore long-sleeved dress shirts and slacks due to his leg condition.

No wonder he looked uncomfortable.

Yan Han finished typing, saved his work, and finally turned off the computer.

He turned to Pei Lang.

“What’s going on?“

Pei Lang studied his face carefully before asking:

“Mr. Yan, did you help remove the trending search again?”

Yan Han didn’t deny it.

“You attract too much trouble,” he said flatly.

That was… true.

Pei Lang chuckled. “Hehe~ Thank you, Mr. Yan. I don’t know how to repay you.

“My skills are limited, so I can only offer my best massage services in return.”

Yan Han glanced at him.

“That’s good to know.“

Pei Lang grinned.

“Mr. Yan, it’s getting late. How about taking a shower, and I’ll give you a massage?

“You must be exhausted from work. I can massage your shoulders too—not just your legs.”

Yan Han rarely went to bed this early.

He hesitated.

But after a moment, he nodded.

Without another word, he drove his wheelchair into his room.

After taking a shower, changing into pajamas, and lying on the bed, he finally called Pei Lang inside.