After the Heartthrob Took the Cannon Fodder Script [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 8

“Qin Yunhui?”

Qin Yunhui did not look up, his gaze fixed on the light computer on his wrist.

“Qin Yunhui!” his manager called out again.

Qin Yunhui seemed to just snap back to reality. His eyes drifted slowly toward his manager without much emotional fluctuation. “Hmm?”

The young man leaned against the back of his chair. A section of cool, white wrist bone peeked out from the cuff of his black jacket. Sunlight from outside penetrated the car window’s privacy film, casting pale shadows in the folds of his clothes. His zipper was pulled to the very top, almost reaching his Adam’s apple.

He fit his fans’ description perfectly—cold, noble, and possessing a deep sense of detachment from the mortal world.

The manager had long since grown accustomed to his temperament. He sighed helplessly and unfolded the documents resting on his knees.

His emotional intelligence is too low; only his face is good enough, the manager thought.

“The Omega you’re collaborating with is named Yi Zhou, right? When the time comes, act a bit more welcoming. Have a better attitude toward him—but don’t be too eager. I heard the Crown Prince is pursuing this Omega, so you should… Qin Yunhui! Are you even listening to me?”

Qin Yunhui’s gaze had drifted back out the window.

Hearing the manager’s voice, he spoke with a weary tone: “Yeah, I heard you.”

The manager felt like reaching out and poking him in the forehead. “Do you remember that Omega now?”

“I remember,” Qin Yunhui said. “Not interested.”

…How can there be an Alpha in this world who is so completely uninterested in Omegas? The manager felt a sense of “hating that iron cannot become steel” (frustration at a lack of ambition). He simply tossed aside the mental script he had prepared for Qin Yunhui and said, “Anyway, just perform well. Don’t bully that Omega too much in front of the camera—otherwise, netizens will flame you, and the Crown Prince might make things difficult for you.”

Qin Yunhui lowered his thin eyelids slightly. “Mhm, I know.”

The manager knew Qin Yunhui disliked playing into “CP” (couple) shipping and had rejected many invitations from the platform. This time, he was only participating in the romance variety show to repay a favor. Ordinarily, the manager wouldn’t advise him too much, but Lu Mingzhou’s name appeared on the guest list for this season.

Lu Mingzhou and Qin Yunhui had an old grudge.

Lu Mingzhou used to sing on a streaming platform before being discovered by a talent scout. He debuted as a singer and now had a substantial fan base. During the promotion for Burning Fire, the two had streamed together. Lu Mingzhou kept trying to cue Qin Yunhui, but Qin Yunhui remained expressionless and frequently dazed off throughout the entire session.

Those in the e-sports circle knew exactly what Qin Yunhui was like, and Lu Mingzhou was well aware of his personality too. However, fans in the entertainment circle didn’t know. Seeing their “idol’s” awkward smiles, they immediately flew into a rage, “slaughtering” Qin Yunhui’s social media plaza and spreading black-and-white edited photos of him everywhere.

The rumor of the discord between Qin Yunhui and Lu Mingzhou reached the tenth spot on the StarNet trending searches before being suppressed by the company, which told Qin Yunhui to apologize to Lu Mingzhou privately.

If both parties hadn’t cared, the matter would have ended there. But Lu Mingzhou took the opportunity to buy promotional articles to crazily disparage Qin Yunhui, marketing a “poor little thing” persona that gained him many fans. Having tasted success once, Lu Mingzhou might stir up trouble again. In a romance variety show, any minor action of Qin Yunhui’s might be magnified to contrast how “good” and “charming” Lu Mingzhou was.

Qin Yunhui remained motionless.

The manager simply took the script and continued making Qin Yunhui memorize it. Expecting Qin Yunhui to stop being so indifferent was less likely than expecting the stone lions at the company’s entrance to come to life.

The program crew’s car arrived punctually, stopping downstairs at the old apartment shortly after seven o’clock.

His thoughtful roommate personally saw Juezhou to the car. Juezhou waved to him: “Goodbye.”

Ye Zhi: “Goodbye.”

Perhaps because it was too early, Juezhou began to feel drowsy as soon as he sat in the car. He was dizzily nudged awake by the cameraman, who signaled that the live stream was about to begin.

Seeing the equipment was ready, the staff member arranged by the crew began to cue the process: “Teacher Xiao Zhou, say hello to everyone.”

Because Hawthorn had used Juezhou’s online handle “Yi Zhou” to sign him up for the program, everyone called him by his nickname.

Juezhou, having just woken up, didn’t react immediately; his head bobbed slightly. He looked quite dazed and silly. The cameraman holding the camera couldn’t help but chuckle.

A cameraman’s task is to film guests to make them look good, so he especially liked someone with Juezhou’s looks. He was perfect from every angle, and the results were satisfying no matter how they were shot.

Juezhou rubbed his eyelids with his knuckles, forcing himself to wake up, and greeted everyone: “Good morning.”

[Xiao Zhou! Good morning!] [Has Xiao Zhou not woken up yet? Mommy’s baby, go back and rest a bit more!]

Juezhou leaned in closer to see the content on the screen: “I’m awake. I went to bed very early last night.”

[Where is Xiao Zhou going now?]

Juezhou glanced at the staff: “To the Heartbeat Cottage.”

The staff member inserted an introduction to Secrets of Heartbeat at the right time: “The Heartbeat Cottage will be the main activity hub for the guests this season. After arriving, the six guests will match into temporary CPs through a lottery to start a one-month romantic love story.”

The six guests had their own independent live stream rooms. At the end of the day, the content would be edited into an official episode for major video websites.

[This “wife-slave” (obsessive fan) has started getting angry in advance, but imagining Xiao Zhou falling in love with someone else (even if it’s fake) feels so good. I really am a pervert.] [Okay Xiao Zhou, stay pure and don’t let bad men trick you into having babies 555 (crying sounds).]

Juezhou, not fully awake, instinctively retorted when he saw that comment: “How could I possibly get pregnant? Don’t talk nonsense.”

His brain was still foggy, and he hadn’t noticed his tone—he sounded a bit grumpy. Only after speaking did he realize his words were inappropriate; he wanted nothing more than to hide his flushed face entirely inside his scarf.

[Help, so does that mean he’ll still be tricked by bad men?] [Silly baby! Bad men will carry your child.] [I want to see the Top (Alpha) give birth, I want to see the Top give birth (the kind without a counter-attack). Xiao Zhou is the type who gets tricked into bed by a bad man, the bad man designs his own pregnancy, and Xiao Zhou feels so guilty that he takes the initiative to be responsible.]

Juezhou was so embarrassed by the comments that he stopped interacting with the bullet chat and began to daze off.

His goal for coming to this variety show was very pure: to flirt with different Alphas and make Hawthorn wear the title of a “cuckolded simp.” It should be easy to achieve, right?

System: 【Qin Yunhui is on the guest list.】

Juezhou understood: 【When the time comes, I’ll flirt with him crazily. Qin Yunhui will definitely be too lazy to pay me any mind and might even scold me in front of the camera. Since I’m so shameless, the entire internet will flame me.】

System: 【Host is truly far-sighted.】

Juezhou: 【Right?】

He just felt a little bit sorry for Hawthorn.

The Heartbeat Cottage selected by the crew was located in a high-end apartment building in the center of the Capital Star. The area was about three hundred square meters, enough for six guests to live together.

Juezhou lived far away; by the time he entered, all the guests had already arrived and were gathered around the kitchen island making breakfast.

Seeing a newcomer enter, a sunny-looking young man greeted him warmly: “Good morning.”

Juezhou recognized him as the Omega who had transitioned from an idol to an actor, named Tao Yi. “Hello.”

The Alphas and Omegas who could make it onto a variety show all had decent looks, especially Qin Yunhui, who looked indifferent in the crowd; he was as handsome as a sharp blade.

Juezhou had sent him harassing messages before. Seeing him now, he felt guilty; his eyes flickered to the side, and he wasn’t as composed as he was when facing others. The program crew magnified this point, adding the text “So Shy” next to Juezhou’s face in post-production.

[I’ve already started shipping them.] [Xiao Zhou doesn’t look like a “love-brain” (obsessive) who would fall for an Alpha at first sight.] [Don’t know, but Qin Yunhui is so arrogant; he’s ignoring my baby.]

Breakfast was ready. Juezhou hurried over to help, carrying plates to the table one by one. The staff came forward to cue the process, asking the guests to introduce themselves according to their seating order.

The Omega sitting next to Juezhou—the little actor Tao Yi who had been the first to greet him—said his hobbies were growing flowers and cooking, fitting the public’s stereotypical image of an Omega perfectly.

Except for Qin Yunhui, Juezhou found it hard to match faces with names. Fortunately, the System was there to help him remember and provide reminders.

When it was Juezhou’s turn, he cleared his throat and said: “My name is Yi Zhou. I’m a full-time streamer, and my hobby is playing games.”

For some reason, the Omega named Tao Yi had a very high opinion of Juezhou. He asked with a smile: “What is your surname?”

Juezhou: “Gu.”

Tao Yi leaned over: “Mhm, Mr. Gu.”

[Although O-O (Omega-Omega) is [censored], but…] [This fan of honorifics is standing tall now.] [Tao Yi knows what’s up, but CP-shipping should be with an Alpha, right? Did he find the wrong person?]

Next was Qin Yunhui. He lowered his head, staring at the water glass in front of him. His voice was cold and weary: “My name is Qin Yunhui. Game streamer.”

Compared to the long self-introductions of the others, the two of them seemed out of place. Juezhou couldn’t find words to describe himself to maintain his “useless” persona, while for Qin Yunhui, it was likely pure arrogance.

A staff member standing off-camera asked with an awkward smile: “Does Teacher Xiao Qin have any expectations for a future partner?”

Qin Yunhui: “None.”

So arrogant.

He perhaps realized his face was written all over with resistance toward the show, so he added: “I have no expectations for a future partner.”

“So, no matter what kind of person the future partner is, Teacher Xiao Qin will accept them?”

“Ah.” After two seconds, Qin Yunhui nodded.

[Why do I feel like Qin Yunhui means he doesn’t want a future partner at all?] [Seconded. What an arrogant guy.]

Juezhou sat nearby “eating melons” (spectating), feeling a bit thirsty. He hadn’t drunk water when he left. The water glass was on the table, a bit far from him. Tao Yi noticed Juezhou’s small movement and whispered: “Do you want some water?”

Juezhou nodded. Tao Yi helped pour a glass of hot water and quietly handed it to him.

“Thank you.”

The cup was filled with hot water. Juezhou didn’t pay attention when he took it, and it immediately slipped from his hand because it was too hot. Fortunately, it was a plastic cup. Juezhou quickly picked up the cup and apologized to everyone.

Tao Yi showed concern: “Mr. Gu, your waist.”

The waist of Juezhou’s shirt had been soaked by the hot water, and there was a stinging pain. Since he was originally from a “normal” world and noticed there were no women in the Heartbeat Cottage, he boldly lifted a corner of his shirt to check if his waist had been scalded.

“No scald.” It was just a bit red.

Juezhou had subtle muscles; he didn’t look burly, but rather had the thin, smooth feel of a youth. In any case, he was the type that was very suitable for holding and touching. He had a high degree of recognizability—rare in real life—and was as white as a handful of clean snow. Now that he had been scalded by hot water, he was covered in an ambiguous layer of warm pink.

It looked like it had been “kissed” out.

Everyone was looking at Juezhou.

Juezhou let go of the hem of his shirt and asked somewhat blankly: “What’s wrong?”

He thought the tooth mark Hawthorn had left earlier hadn’t faded yet, and he began to feel guilty.