After the Heartthrob Took the Cannon Fodder Script [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 17

Juezhou put his jacket back on. Zhou Chenyu also stopped his teasing, leisurely putting Juezhou’s socks and shoes back on one by one.

Jiang Henian said he was about to hang up. Juezhou breathed a sigh of relief; almost the instant Jiang Henian’s last syllable fell, he tapped the “End Call” button.

“What were you doing?” Juezhou complained. “Just you wait—the next time you’re livestreaming, I’m going to do the same to you and make you lose face in public.”

Zhou Chenyu, with his back to him, let out an extremely soft chuckle. “Sure. Go ahead and make me lose face.”

Juezhou was speechless. He squeezed the giant bear between his knees and sulkily thought of ways to retaliate.

The film set wasn’t far from Zhou Chenyu’s home; by the time Juezhou finished dazing out, they had arrived. He didn’t wait for Zhou Chenyu, wrapping himself tight in the jacket and heading upstairs first.

After parking the car, Zhou Chenyu stood by it and finished an entire cigarette, the dark red glow hidden between his fingers. He dropped the ash into the smoking area’s receptacle. Then, he took a mint from his pocket to remove the scent of smoke from his mouth and grabbed the plush giant bear from the back seat.

The giant bear was tossed into the trash bin along with the extinguished cigarette butt.

The apartment was equipped with a climate control system, so Juezhou took off his jacket as soon as he entered. He slumped onto the sofa and continued browsing his phone.

Shi Du was currently livestreaming a game, though he wasn’t showing his face. Recently, Shi Du’s streaming hours had shortened; he sheepishly explained to the audience that he was afraid of disturbing his roommate’s rest.

Juezhou really liked watching his streams, partly because Shi Du had an exceptionally good temper. He was gentle and soft-spoken; no matter what kind of “problematic” teammates or opponents he encountered, he wouldn’t get angry and almost never lost his cool.

It wasn’t until Shi Du finished the match that he had time to look at the screen. Noticing Juezhou’s account was online, he greeted him with a smile: “Good afternoon, Little Boss. Want to play a game together?”

Juezhou thought about it and sent a message: [Let’s play tonight. I have something to do right now.] He happened to be very free in the evening.

Shi Du’s tone became much more cheerful: “Okay! I’ll wait for the Little Boss to come online.”

Half an hour later, Zhou Chenyu leisurely returned from outside and sat across from him on the sofa. Juezhou kept getting the illusion that the other was watching him, but whenever he looked up, Zhou Chenyu was doing something else.

Zhou Chenyu’s phone rang. He didn’t avoid Juezhou and answered it directly. Juezhou immediately lowered his phone’s volume, intending not to disturb him. Unexpectedly, Zhou Chenyu’s phone volume was very high; since the room was quiet, Juezhou could clearly hear the person on the other end.

It was Zhou Chenyu’s manager—a middle-aged, balding man whose voice, even over the phone, felt saturated with unshakeable sleaziness. He first used biting language to belittle Zhou Chenyu for a while, saying he was inferior to other idols of the same period and even worse than the newcomers on the set.

Zhou Chenyu listened in silence, lightly stroking the lighter in his pocket with his fingertip.

The manager sighed and then praised him a bit: “You are the artist I have the most faith in, and you haven’t failed my expectations—becoming a Movie King at such a young age.”

A slap and then a piece of candy… Juezhou “tsked.” This was a very low-level PUA tactic; there was no way Zhou Chenyu couldn’t see through it.

But Zhou Chenyu didn’t argue. He leaned quietly against the sofa, a smile playing on his lips: “Mm, okay.” He still loved to smile, but his peach-blossom eyes were pitch black, the smile not reaching them.

Manager: “I know you really need money right now, so I specifically begged for this opportunity for you. As long as you act in this drama, you can easily earn a massive salary.”

Zhou Chenyu: “I’ve read the script. I refuse.”

He hung up the phone and propped up his chin, meeting Juezhou’s gaze with a smile. Juezhou awkwardly shifted his bottom. He remembered that when Zhou Chenyu first debuted, he took many terrible scripts for money. Why would he refuse the manager’s request now?

Zhou Chenyu was still smiling. In a very light tone, he explained to Juezhou: “The drama is called Women’s Virtues. It’s about a woman in the Ancient Earth era who, after being forced, gave birth to over a dozen children for her abuser one after another.”

…Juezhou’s fists tightened just hearing the description.

He cleared his throat, pursed his lips, and asked in a cautious tone: “Are you… very short on money?”

There was no reason for Zhou Chenyu to be short on money; his salary for a single drama was astronomical. So, if the manager said he was short on money, it meant the amount Zhou Chenyu lacked was nearly sky-high.

Zhou Chenyu seemed not to expect Juezhou to ask this; his lips moved, but no sound came out.

Juezhou: “Well, do you want some money?”

“I’ve earned a lot from my paintings. I’ll lend it to you,” he said. “Just consider it my accommodation fee for this period.” No other meaning—Juezhou just wanted to indirectly thank Zhou Chenyu for not taking that drama and poisoning his soul.

The room was quiet for a few more seconds. The sunlight from outside the glass window softly covered Juezhou’s snowy, jade-like hand.

The stunned look that had just appeared on Zhou Chenyu’s face vanished. He regained that nonchalant, casual smile and leaned in close to Juezhou: “Young Master, I’m in the entertainment industry now. Do you know what kind of rumors reporters would spread if we had a financial transaction?”

Juezhou didn’t want to know. Anything coming out of Zhou Chenyu’s mouth certainly wouldn’t be anything good.

“If it got out, everyone would think you’re ‘keeping’ me.” His dark, slightly long hair shimmered under the light, casting a black shadow on the floor. His eyes were masked with a smile, yet there was more—something hidden, darker than the shadow.

The moment Juezhou lowered his eyes, he missed the flash of twisted excitement in Zhou Chenyu’s gaze.

What Juezhou thought of was another aspect: “Oh, right. When I was ‘keeping’ Xie Wenchen, Jiang Henian almost hit me in public. If he misunderstands that I’m keeping you, won’t I be beaten half to death?”

Juezhou quickly closed the transfer app. Hearing Jiang Henian’s name, Zhou Chenyu’s eyes darkened, and he sat back.

“Then do you want to try actually keeping me for real?”

The teasing intent in his voice was too obvious; Juezhou didn’t even bother to respond.

Perhaps because he was in a bad mood, Zhou Chenyu didn’t livestream that evening. After showering, he accompanied Juezhou at the living room table for their second “desensitization therapy” session.

The warm yellow light melted onto the floor. The air was so quiet only the sound of the humidifier could be heard. Juezhou’s eyes were moist, and his calves swung in the air. His dangling legs were slender and fair, easily grabbable by a single hand. Due to the excessive stimulation, his insteps were tensed and his toes showed a faint pink tint.

Afraid of crushing the nearby neural link computer, Juezhou kept his hands propped on Zhou Chenyu’s shoulders, complaining in a small, slurred voice: “You’re too far away from me.”

But they were clearly so close that only a narrow slit of space remained. His lips, bitten into teeth marks, were fresh red and covered in a layer of glistening moisture; as he spoke, the tip of his bright red tongue peeked out.

—His waist was so thin, and holding him felt fragrant and soft. His pupils were so light; when mist rose in them, they looked like beautiful gray glass.

Juezhou leaned against the wall, occasionally lifting his hand cooperatively: “Why do I feel like it’s not working?” He still wanted to cling and be held.

“It might be because we’ve only done it twice. Let’s keep making appointments,” Zhou Chenyu said.

Makes sense. Juezhou nodded. He politely thanked Zhou Chenyu and climbed down from the table with trembling legs.

Juezhou had promised Shi Du to play games with him tonight, and now it was time for the appointment. Burning Stars could be played on both neural link computers and phones. Juezhou was a bit envious of the gaming chair in Zhou Chenyu’s room, so he asked if he could borrow it.

Zhou Chenyu: “Except for the innermost cabinet, you can touch anything else in my bedroom as you please.”

Hearing this, Juezhou immediately became curious about what was in the innermost cabinet. However, he had no habit of prying into others’ privacy. After entering Zhou Chenyu’s bedroom, he only took a glance before sitting in the gaming chair to start the neural link.

As soon as he logged in, Juezhou noticed Shi Du was in a call with another streamer. Juezhou knew that streamer too. He used to love “supporting the poor” and had followed several small streamers on the platform; once their popularity rose, Juezhou would move on to the next.

It was only because Shi Du’s personality was especially well-behaved that Juezhou kept following him.

Shi Du sent him a message, explaining in a cramped and uneasy tone why there was an extra person tonight—Zhou Chenyu wasn’t there, so the platform arranged another streamer to play along.

If it were some other stranger, Juezhou might have accepted it. But why did they have to pull in Yu Ye? He looked at the handsome youth on the computer screen with highlighted blue hair and a rebellious outfit, and his head throbbed deeply.

The youth named Yu Ye lowered his gaze, landing on the extra user in the game lobby with the ID “Duo Zhou.” He chewed the mint tablet in his mouth and let out a sneer: “The Little Boss is here?”

The bullet screen filled with question marks after Yu Ye spoke.

[Newbie here, asking: does Yu Ye know the Little Boss too?]

[Veteran user here: Yu Ye was a streamer the Little Boss supported several years ago. Back then, Shi Du hadn’t started streaming, and the interaction between the Little Boss and Yu Ye was just as sweet as it is with Shi Du now.]

[See link xxxxx: Yu Ye got drunk during a stream before and cried in front of tens of millions of people. Everyone suspected it was because of the Little Boss.]

[Crap, I’m imagining a tragic, deep-seated love story.]

In truth, there was no tragic love story—it was just that Juezhou was about to take the college entrance exams, and Jiang Henian forcibly pulled his internet cable. Yu Ye used to have the same personality as Shi Du—very sweet, soft, and easy to “pinch.” After Juezhou got into the First Academy and returned, Yu Ye’s personality had transformed, becoming just as sarcastic as Zhou Chenyu.

Juezhou had a bad temper and didn’t bother coaxing him, opting to just blacklist him directly.

Exiting the game now was very inappropriate, as Shi Du didn’t know the grudge between them. Plus, after so many years, Juezhou had long since put Yu Ye out of his mind. He didn’t bring it up and urged Shi Du to start the match.

The chat was all clamoring for Juezhou to turn on his mic. Shi Du turned red and sheepishly asked the audience to stop acting up.

Juezhou pressed his headphones, clicked the mic button, and said softly, “It’s okay. Turn on the mic; it’s easier to play with communication.”

The moment his voice transmitted, the bullet screen exploded instantly.

Juezhou had a great voice; the tone was clean and clear, crisp like broken jade falling into a pool of still water. Even when he spoke seriously, the end of his voice carried a lazy, lingering charm. No matter what he said, it sounded like he was acting spoiled.

[My bones are starting to feel limp. Is this a voice I can hear for free?]

[Voice-fetish person here—dead!!! Little Boss, support me!!]

[Want to have the Little Boss’s babies, sob sob sob.]

Juezhou was once again shocked by how explicit modern netizens could be. He quickly said, “I don’t want girls to have my babies.”

[So boys are okay then?!]

[Little Boss, look at me! I’m willing, I can!! I definitely won’t let you lose out!]

[Little Boss, please say a few more words, sob sob sob, I’m begging you. My ‘equipment’ is injured and needs the Little Boss to coax it to heal. After hearing the Little Boss’s voice, I can have ten babies in one go.]

Juezhou: …What kind of people are all of you!