Chapter 4

Qi Linyuan stood quietly in a corner where the cameras couldn’t reach.

The first time Lu Xiang glanced over, for a split second, he thought he saw a flower blooming in the darkness.

Beneath the faint glow of fireflies, it was just possible to discern a trace of poison clinging to that flower. Yet it was so beautiful that anyone who looked upon it couldn’t help but be bewitched, compelled to reach out their hand.

Lu Xiang was no exception. He was captivated by the scene, his mind drifting for a moment. But as Qi Linyuan lifted his eyes and allowed a slight smile to touch his lips, the dangerous beauty faded away, replaced once again by the open, innocent loveliness Lu Xiang knew so well.

This filled Lu Xiang with a sense of pride: such a person had, in the end, agreed to his pursuit and become his lover. Surely, this proved he was the most remarkable person in the world.

That sincere pride colored his words. When he spoke, the “sorrow” in his tone was all performance, without a hint of actual guilt. “Xiao Yuan… you know about my family, don’t you?”

Qi Linyuan nodded, his expression matching exactly the tender concern Lu Xiang had expected. “Of course I know. It hasn’t been easy for you.”

Lu Xiang’s face grew even more triumphant. Even the semblance of “sadness” dissipated, and his tone took on a gentle, coaxing note. “Yes… They’re always pressuring me, always forcing me. If I don’t bring money home, they’ll kill me.”

Qi Linyuan looked at him, the sympathy in his eyes and on his face deepening—though inwardly, he found it all absurdly laughable.

He couldn’t understand how, back then, he’d been taken in by such clumsy acting. It wasn’t just that these stories had been told to elicit his sympathy; even the stories themselves were fabrications.

Yes, it was all a lie.

He wasn’t burdened by his family, nor were there endless demands and threats from them. That family revolved around him; unlike Qi Linyuan, who had only himself in the world, he’d actually believed the other’s suffering outweighed his own.

Lu Xiang remained oblivious to the truth in the man before him and grew more animated in his performance, convinced his acting was worthy of legend. “And that’s not all, Xiao Yuan. You and I are different… You’re so good-looking, and though I’m handsome, in this industry that’s only average. Without this show, you’ll have other opportunities. The company won’t abandon you over one failed variety program. But me—if I lose, the company will drop me. Do you understand?”

He sighed. “Besides, this show… Maybe you don’t know what I’ve just learned. It’s not the fair, talent-focused competition we imagined. It’s designed entirely to promote the favored ones, and the rest of us are just there to make their rise seem less abrupt. You’re so naive and pure—if you stay, they’ll chew you up and spit out nothing but your bones. But me…”

Lu Xiang tilted his head slightly, gazing at the ceiling, hoping to squeeze out a tear, but failing. He could only maintain the pose. “I’ve been through so much already. Even if I’m bullied, it’s nothing—so long as I can grow strong enough to protect you, I can endure anything…”

Qi Linyuan dodged Lu Xiang’s attempt to clasp his hands at the emotional peak of his performance, simply offering a sympathetic smile. “I know, I know you’re doing it all for my sake. So…”

He drew a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “As long as you can win, it doesn’t matter if I lose. I… I don’t mind at all!”

The moment the words left his lips, Lu Xiang’s face lit up with unconcealed delight.

He truly adored Qi Linyuan’s face, and now, with such understanding and empathy, he was so thrilled he wanted to embrace him. But Qi Linyuan slipped away, moving toward the cameras.

Before Lu Xiang could wonder if something had slipped beyond his control, Qi Linyuan turned back, giving him a radiant smile. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Lu Xiang watched the dazzling smile bloom. Any half-formed suspicions vanished without a trace.

He waved absentmindedly, thinking that if the other would agree to be his secret lover… well, even after he became famous, maybe they could keep things as they were.

Qi Linyuan could probably guess his thoughts; for an instant, a glint of coldness flashed in his eyes.

But when he faced the cameras, every genuine emotion vanished beneath that innocent mask.

He let out a faint, bitter laugh, then, on camera, showed only his back as he walked away—leaving a wealth of room for the audience’s imagination.

When Qi Linyuan returned to the dormitory, two pairs of eyes turned to him in perfect unison.

He couldn’t help but laugh, the effect less pitiful and more lively. “What is it? Worried about me?”

Le Xi, knowing there were cameras in the room, wanted to speak but held back.

Zhou Siqi, however, couldn’t restrain himself. He opened his mouth, but Qi Linyuan cut him off. “Don’t overthink things! It’s Wednesday now—our performance is on Friday. If you’re not preparing, how do you have time for anything else?”

At that, Zhou Siqi scowled.

He glanced at the cameras, then, before Qi Linyuan could react, blurted out, “The producers talk a good game. ‘A five-minute scene—how long do you want to rehearse? A week? A month? Should we give you three years to get ready, like a film shoot?’ But it’s all because those privileged ones already have their scripts picked out and have rehearsed in advance. They’re afraid that if we’re given too much time, their performances will look so bad that the producers and their favorites will be embarrassed when the show airs.”

The moment the words left his mouth, even Le Xi had to fight to keep his composure—and Qi Linyuan nearly failed to hide his own reaction.

Zhou Siqi patted his chest, utterly unconcerned. “Don’t worry—none of that will make it into the broadcast.”

Qi Linyuan thought, Is that really the issue? It’s whether you’ll be eliminated in the first round.

But the words had been spoken, and he wasn’t one to scold others. Instead, he sat down at the foot of his bed. “Even so, I’m still going to give it my all.”

Zhou Siqi replied casually, “Of course. It’s not that we don’t have a chance. I heard the show is trying to get funding from Fengqi. If they become the main sponsor, things might improve for us.”

Qi Linyuan never expected to hear that name here.

He lowered his head, hiding the emotions that flickered across his face, and asked in a near whisper, “Really? I hadn’t heard…”

Zhou Siqi nodded matter-of-factly. “Yeah! Apparently the new boss of Fengqi will even be at the first round. What’s his name again? Ji…”

“Ji Yuchen,” Qi Linyuan finished softly.

Zhou Siqi responded at once, “That’s it! Hey?”

Only then did he realize who had spoken, and asked curiously, “How do you know? Are you following this too?”

Qi Linyuan snapped out of his daze, shook his head with a smile. “No, I’ve just heard of him. He’s very young.”

When he mentioned Ji Yuchen, his tone softened, and there was a fleeting gentleness in his eyes.

In his previous life, he’d thought that being disfigured and dumped was the worst tragedy that could befall him. He hadn’t realized it was only the beginning.

As a young artist, signed for his looks, without connections or background, just starting out, his disfigurement had far greater consequences than he could have imagined.

And his agency was ruthless, squeezing him dry. When he’d finally honed his acting to a passable level and managed to win a mid-level antagonist role, the company demanded such a high fee that the production team cut him off, ruining his reputation industry-wide. For six months, he couldn’t get a single role.

Even after his contract expired, no one would hire him. Some production teams even laughed in his face, asking if he fought for such roles because he was a stray dog with nowhere to go.

If not for Ji Yuchen… perhaps, after yet another rejection and humiliation, he would have chosen a silent river to end it all.

He’d never spoken much to Ji Yuchen, nor had any private interactions. But Ji Yuchen took him into his newly-founded company, assigned him an agent who helped him land even better roles than the ones he’d lost.

His agent told him frankly: his natural advantages were limited, and the company couldn’t promote him as a leading man regardless of profit. But as long as he was capable, the company would help him seek the best roles he could play.

“Why?” he had asked back then. “Someone like me…”

“President Ji said he thinks you’ll become a remarkable actor,” the agent had answered seriously, “Every company needs them: not necessarily popular, but talented and promising. If you develop, you’ll bring great benefit to the company. He believes you can be one of those actors, so—let’s work hard together!”

Qi Linyuan had never imagined the word “promising” could apply to him. He’d thought Ji Yuchen was mad, but there was no denying, he was enchanted by those words.

Later, he rose up, step by step, from supporting roles to leads. But fate intervened—before he could repay the debt, Ji Yuchen died in a tragic accident.

Since his rebirth, only two things brought him real joy. One: he hadn’t been disfigured, and could experience a different life. The other: he could repay his debt and save Ji Yuchen from disaster.

The first goal he knew how to approach. For the second… his mind was a muddle. He didn’t know how to get close to Ji Yuchen without arousing suspicion—should he bide his time until Ji Yuchen launched his entertainment company, and then join as early as possible? Or try to discover his whereabouts and orchestrate a chance encounter?

But before he could figure it out, the opportunity had fallen from the sky.

However… Qi Linyuan fell into deep thought. Ji Yuchen is connected to this show? He had no memory of that. As far as he recalled, their first meeting was truly the first. Was there something he’d missed?