The Beta Alpha Turned Dating Reality Show Heartthrob - Chapter 2

Ren Xubai clutched his chest with an exaggerated expression, his lips parting as if he were about to say something

Only to be interrupted by the director.

“Everyone, the sixth guest has a temporary delay. Let’s board the vehicle first.”

A small minibus emblazoned with the show’s logo slowly drove up.

The director probably harbored a touch of nostalgia, or perhaps wanted to match the slow-paced tone of the show. Vehicles of this sort had been phased out long ago, likely only found on more remote, outlying planets.

Xu Qingnan, however, looked entirely unperturbed and was the first to board. The others followed suit, filing in with expressions of intense curiosity.

Xu Qingnan took a seat in the single-person chair at the very back, pulled a pair of over-ear headphones from his backpack, tilted his head toward the window, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes the picture of someone refusing all interaction.

If his cousin hadn’t run into trouble with the originally scheduled guest and dragged him in as a last-minute replacement, Xu Qingnan would have had zero interest in this kind of activity.

He had already made up his mind: he would not participate in any romantic entanglements or drama whatsoever, and after a month, he would take his paycheck and walk away.

The only hassle was the man currently sitting right beside him, occupying the seat across the narrow aisle.

That nagging demeanor felt far too familiar.

“Brother Xu, your voice sounds really familiar,” Ren Xubai said with unbothered enthusiasm, completely immune to being given the cold shoulder. “Have we met somewhere before?”

Xu Qingnan remained silent. The atmosphere inside the vehicle grew slightly stagnant until Ye Yuyao, seated directly in front of Xu Qingnan, adjusted his glasses. “Xubai, that’s such an old-fashioned pickup line.”

“Yeah,” Ren Xubai leaned back, spreading his hands out wide. “It really is old-fashioned. No wonder it didn’t work.”

“Though I do think you look quite familiar, too. I keep feeling like I’ve seen you somewhere,” Ye Yuyao’s eyes flashed with a hint of scrutiny, though ninety-nine percent of it was masked by his glasses. “Xubai didn’t happen to make the news in the past couple of days, did he?”

Ren Xubai’s expression didn’t shift at all. “As if. I’m just an ordinary person; how could I possibly end up on the news?”

Ye Yuyao didn’t press further, adopting an understanding tone. “Then I must have remembered wrong. But then again, it makes sense the person I’m thinking of probably shouldn’t be showing their face in public right now anyway.”

The carriage lapsed back into silence. Ren Xubai didn’t pick up the thread of conversation. Noticing Xu Qingnan relax his posture in the slightest degree, Ye Yuyao also removed his glasses to close his eyes and rest.

Outside the window, the scenery was breathtaking, enveloped in a misty drizzle carrying the crisp, fresh scent of grass and earth.

After roughly a ten-minute drive, the five of them were directed onto a boat.

Outside the view of the cameras, the director handed each person a slip of paper. “It will take about an hour to reach our destination. You can write down the name of the roommate you’d like to share a room with tonight and hand it to me after we disembark. Does anyone have any questions?”

While called roommates, it didn’t strictly force everyone to stay online continuously. After all, the holographic system was tied to a person’s mental stamina; even an Alpha with the highest mental-strength talent couldn’t stay online indefinitely. Although resting within the holographic environment could help recover mental strength, the effect paled drastically compared to sleeping soundly offline. Thus, participants could apply to log off, leaving only their virtual avatars behind in the space.

Deng You, who was sitting next to Xu Qingnan, took the slip of paper, cleared his throat, and effortlessly curved his lips into a pretty arc. “If we write it down, will you actually follow the arrangements?”

“If the double selection is successful, yes.”

The moment the director’s voice trailed off, Xu Qingnan noticed a gaze fixing on him from diagonally ahead. Xu Qingnan had no intention of responding. Behind him came the sound of conversation between Ye Yuyao and Huo Zheng, while Deng You shifted postures yet again ever since boarding the boat, he had acted as if he had a severe case of nervous energy.

Now, he was tilting his head back to look behind him. “Yuyao, are you two planning to room together tonight?”

Ye Yuyao unhurriedly adjusted his glasses and answered with gentle ambiguity, “Why, do you want to room with me, or with Huo Zheng?”

“Just asking out of curiosity,” Deng You let out a soft hmph. “The two of you have been stuck together ever since we met. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you already knew each other.”

Huo Zheng lifted his eyes to look at Deng You, stating with blunt stiffness, “If we already knew each other, we wouldn’t have bothered coming on this show.”

“Huh? Huh?” Deng You widened his eyes, tilting his torso with an exaggerated flourish as he deliberately looked toward Ye Yuyao. “Did I misunderstand something?”

Xu Qingnan had zero interest in the conversation happening right beside his ear. The headphones clamped over his ears were playing absolute silence. As the boat gently rocked beneath them, Xu Qingnan suddenly felt his shoulder bump against something.

It was just Deng You’s movements being a bit too animated.

Ye Yuyao smiled faintly. “Huo Zheng means the production team wouldn’t be foolish enough to cast two people who already know each other for a dating show.”

“Boring,” Deng You flicked his fingers dismissively. “Not being honest—”

Deng You’s words were cut short by a hand suddenly reaching out right in front of him. A small pill rested on the palm. Deng You blinked in confusion and took it. “What is this?”

Xu Qingnan said indifferently, “Take it if you’re getting seasick.”

Virtual avatars were linked to the user’s real-world mental state, sharing all physical sensations, though whatever the avatar felt was dampened by roughly thirty percent.

Deng You dazedly bit his lower lip, let out an oh, accepted the pill, and sat back properly. “How did you know?”

“You move too much.”

“Then why do you happen to carry seasickness pills around? You don’t even get seasick.”

Optical brains could be equipped with storage space, though it was exorbitantly expensive. A mere one-cubic-meter space cost a hundred interstellar coins per month. Once activated, real-world items could be scanned and stored, or carried alongside the virtual avatar within the holographic environment.

Xu Qingnan brushed the question off casually. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

Noticing that Deng You had quieted down, Xu Qingnan closed his eyes once more.

Right beside his ear, a familiar male voice chimed in. “Brother Xu, I’m seasick too. I want a pill as well.”

Ren Xubai, who had been sitting diagonally in front of him earlier, must have switched seats, settling down right across the narrow aisle. The equipment he had previously occupied had been dragged forward by Ren Xubai himself.

That equipment wasn’t light; Ren Xubai had already struggled with it when boarding the boat.

Now, having apparently discovered a new topic of conversation, he had sidled right back over.

How utterly tedious.

Without even opening his eyes, Xu Qingnan turned his face sideways toward Deng You’s direction, completely unconcerned that his impolite behavior would be captured on camera.

Ren Xubai let out an ah, reached out, and tugged at the hem of the man’s shirt, revealing the rippling lines of muscle beneath the shifting fabric. “Brother Xu, you’re playing favorites—”

Xu Qingnan frowned, fished a small medicine bottle out of his pack, and tossed it over. “Annoying.”

Ren Xubai caught the bottle, happily shook out a single pill, and swallowed it.

“Fine, I won’t talk anymore,” Ren Xubai said, his articulation crisp and clear. Paired with his bright, ringing voice, he sounded exceptionally well-behaved. “Brother Xu, can I sit here?”

“Whatever.”

It wasn’t his property anyway; people could sit wherever they pleased.

Deng You, sitting on the inner side, had also taken his pill and ceased participating in the chatter behind them. The boat swayed slightly on the water. The man’s breathing was close by, lightly drifting past his ear, carrying the scent of cedarwood tailored specifically by the production team to mask pheromones. As the seasickness medicine kicked in, a wave of drowsiness washed over Deng You, and he shifted his neck, trying to find a more comfortable position.

The moment he tilted his head, he found himself staring straight at Xu Qingnan’s face.

Too close.

It was a distance that breached all personal boundaries, making the man’s entire face look magnified right before his eyes.

Even knowing that staring wasn’t particularly polite, he forgot how to breathe for a split second.

Sharp, defined angles; thick eyebrows. Even with his eyes closed, one could tell his eyelashes weren’t particularly long, but they were dense. The bridge of his nose was high, straight, and smooth, flowing seamlessly into deep-set brow ridges that lent him a somewhat Eurasian look. His lips were straight and thin, tinged a pale pink, with the corners turned down in an unapproachable, keep-out aura that radiated outward.

Accustomed as he was to big-name celebrities, Deng You looked him over carefully and reached a conclusion:

It was a face that inherently stirred a fierce urge to conquer.

“Still need something?”

Xu Qingnan opened his eyes abruptly and spoke.

Caught red-handed, Deng You didn’t panic in the slightest. He was blessed with striking looks and a melodious voice, capable of effortlessly injecting a teasing undertone into his words. After offering a deliberately polite inquiry, he continued, “Why don’t we do a mutual selection too? If we leave it to a random draw, you might end up rooming with Xubai.”

Deng You’s voice was extremely soft, brushing against Xu Qingnan’s ear like someone whispering a secret.

It was an argument Xu Qingnan found impossible to refuse.

Dealing with Ren Xubai always seemed to dredge up unpleasant memories for Xu Qingnan.

Xu Qingnan opened his eyes and looked at Deng You, his gaze sharp.

“Why?”

“I’ve never been one to hold back on showing goodwill toward someone who interests me.” Deng You reached out directly, plucked the slip of paper from Xu Qingnan’s hand, scribbled his own name on it, and handed it back. Seeing Xu Qingnan take it, the corners of his mouth curved upward, his voice softening into a melodic lilt that tugged at the heartstrings: “Consider it a thank-you for the seasickness pill!”

If Ren Xubai was someone Xu Qingnan wanted desperately to avoid, Deng You was no simple character either.

Whatever. It didn’t matter.

A short while later, the hull vibrated gently and came to a complete stop. Recognizing that they had reached their destination, the group stood up and prepared to disembark.

“Xubai?” Ye Yuyao looked at the person still seated, a note of concern coloring his tone. “Your complexion looks terrible. Are you feeling unwell?”

At that, everyone paused and turned to look at Ren Xubai.

“Terrible” didn’t even cover it; his lips were devoid of color, his brows knitted unconsciously, and his light chestnut hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, making his pallor look even more ghastly.

Ye Yuyao felt like he faintly caught a whiff of blood.

He cast another scrutinizing glance at Ren Xubai.

Only Xu Qingnan continued packing his belongings without missing a beat, not sparing a single glance. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

Everyone instantly understood.

It was that single seasickness pill.

The scrutiny in Ye Yuyao’s eyes diminished slightly, though it didn’t vanish entirely, merely masked by the casual gesture of him pushing up his glasses.

“Log off, drink plenty of water, and use the restroom a few times.” Xu Qingnan walked away on his own, leaving his parting words echoing behind him.

The island was small, surrounded by the sea on all sides, with only a single pier serving as access, which had been completely cleared out by the production team today.

The accommodation arranged by the show was a two-story villa with a terrace and a small garden. Walking another hundred or so meters out led straight to the sandy beach and the ocean.

Aside from this villa, there were several other buildings in the vicinity glowing with a blue-purple light.

When the five of them reached the entrance, a light screen on the adjacent wall flickered to life.

“Ye Yuyao and Huo Zheng, Room 1. Xu Qingnan and Deng You, Room 2. Ren Xubai and Cheng Yanzhi, Room 3.”

An entirely unsurprising result.

“Cheng Yanzhi must be the final person, right?” Ye Yuyao looked at Ren Xubai, who for some reason hadn’t logged off yet. “Xubai can make a new friend now.”

Ren Xubai was looking slightly better now, standing beside his luggage cart. Though Ye Yuyao’s words carried a teasing edge, Ren Xubai only offered Xu Qingnan a wronged look. “I can’t even get close to my old friends, let alone make new ones.”

Xu Qingnan didn’t dignify that with a look, walking straight inside with eyes fixed straight ahead.

Deng You followed closely behind, flashing a smile at Ren Xubai whether out of politeness or triumph was hard to tell before hurrying his steps to match pace with Xu Qingnan and disappearing around the stairwell.

Room 2 was located on the east side of the second floor. Stepping out the side door led straight to a terrace, and you could climb right out the window of Room 2 to reach it as well. Inside sat two single beds roughly five feet wide, alongside a full set of dual e-sports gaming equipment in the corner.

Xu Qingnan had zero interest in gaming. He walked straight into the bathroom to wash his hands, while Deng You strolled leisurely over to inspect the room, spotting a small booklet resting on the table.

“Cabin User’s Manual?” Deng You read the cover aloud, casually flipping through a few pages. “Qingnan, it says here there’s also an audiovisual room, a recreation room, and a gym. Want to go check them out later?”

Xu Qingnan opened his mouth to refuse, only to hear Deng You add, “There’s an art studio, too.”

“Fine,” Xu Qingnan changed his mind, walking out of the bathroom. “Which bed are you sleeping in?”

Deng You turned back around, glanced at the two beds, and shrugged indifferently. “Either is fine.”

Xu Qingnan said nothing more, walking over to sit on the bed closer to the window.

When Xu Qingnan was called out by Tang Yu, Deng You was already gone, and neither the hallway nor the first floor had anyone around. The two of them stepped outside, picking a secluded spot where Tang Yu immediately spun around, anxiety practically radiating from his face. “Cousin—”

“What is it?”

“My job is about to go down the drain!” Tang Yu threw his hands up dramatically, casting a resentful look at Xu Qingnan.

Xu Qingnan remained completely unfazed, sparing Tang Yu an emotionless glance. Only after Tang Yu reined in his dramatics did he ask, “What happened?”

Tang Yu had always been terrified of this cousin; the mere glance was enough to make him clam up. “You can’t talk to the other guests like that.”

Xu Qingnan frowned, having no intention of complying with this extra demand. “I’m not here to fall in love.”

“But if you act like that, you’re going to get flamed online,” Tang Yu reasoned, eyeing Xu Qingnan’s indifferent expression before pulling out his trump card. “The stellar net is vicious these days. They’ll figure out which illustrator you are and raid your accounts. Do you still want to take commissions or not?”

“…” Xu Qingnan fell silent for a moment. He had to admit Tang Yu’s reasoning was airtight. “Fine.”

Tang Yu heaved a sigh of relief, preparing to log off, though he couldn’t resist one parting piece of advice. “So whether you’re interested or not, try to at least keep up appearances, okay?”

Xu Qingnan turned and walked away. “Nagging.”