The Beta Alpha Turned Dating Reality Show Heartthrob - Chapter 3

As soon as he returned to the bedroom, Xu Qingnan saw Deng You standing out on the terrace. Hearing the movement, Deng You turned back and beckoned, “Qingnan, come look! It’s so gorgeous!”

Xu Qingnan stepped forward, crossing the sliding door between the room and the terrace. A wave of humid air carrying the salty scent of the sea washed over him. The drizzle had cleared, and the sky’s simulated sunset was breathtaking, casting a striking orange-pink glow across the vast expanse of rain-washed clouds.

Standing beside Deng You, Xu Qingnan’s ordinarily placid eyes sparked with genuine awe.

Silver Frost Star was prone to endless rainy and snowy seasons, and Xu Qingnan had cooped himself up in his room for too long working on illustrations, leaving it ages since he last witnessed such a magnificent dusk.

A sudden, itching urge to sketch stirred within him. “I’m going to check out the art studio.”

Deng You swept a hand through his wind-tossed hair, nodding in agreement. “Oh? Shall we go together?”

Unbothered by having company tagging along, Xu Qingnan strode toward the art studio.

The studio was quite spacious. Cabinets lining the walls held various painting supplies, while a corner by the window featured a lazy beanbag chair paired with a Chinese-style tea table and matching tea set.

Xu Qingnan selected a few items and carried them out to the terrace. Just as he finished setting up his easel, someone called out to him, “Qingnan, where should I put these?”

Turning around, he saw Deng You carrying all the tubes of paint he had picked out.

Accustomed to solitude, Xu Qingnan took a brief moment to process the gesture.

A helpless, charming smile bloomed on Deng You’s striking face as he prompted, “Qingnan?”

“Oh, thanks,” Xu Qingnan replied. “Just set them down beside me.”

Deng You effortlessly deposited the supplies and thoughtfully uncapped them for Xu Qingnan. From Xu Qingnan’s angle, he could only see the sharp, superior contour of Deng You’s profile. “If you want to thank me, why don’t you paint me?”

Xu Qingnan wanted to say it was entirely unnecessary; he wasn’t used to having anyone around when he drew.

He just wanted a moment of quiet focus.

Xu Qingnan’s instinct was to refuse, but then he recalled his cousin’s warning.

Fine. Consider it free promotion. The show had massive traffic he was already here, so he might as well make the most of it.

Xu Qingnan nodded. “Sit on the edge of the terrace, bend one leg, and give me a profile view.”

Since the terrace was on the second floor, the edge was actually quite perilous, yet Deng You didn’t hesitate for a second. With a stride of his long legs, he hopped right up onto the ledge. “Qingnan, are you sure a profile is all you need?”

Having already slipped into work mode, Xu Qingnan focused on mapping out the rough composition on his canvas without even lifting his head. His low, gravelly voice drifted over to Deng You, devoid of emotional inflection: “Your profile is more than pretty enough.”

Deng You blinked, caught completely off guard by Xu Qingnan’s unvarnished, direct strike. “Ah, thanks for the compliment. Then do you think—”

Xu Qingnan cut him off flatly. “Silence.”

Though the man’s cold voice brushed past his ear, Deng You didn’t feel a shred of annoyance at being ordered around.

Instead, his heart pounded against his ribs, heavy, rapid, and erratic.

In his peripheral vision, he could catch Xu Qingnan occasionally glancing up at him with a sharp, clinical gaze an objective, purely clinical appraisal. Every now and then, the man would raise a hand to measure proportions, looking at him less like a living person and more like an unmoving, inanimate object.

No one had ever looked at Deng You like that before.

Logically, he should have been furious.

Instead, a shiver of excitement welled up from deep within his body, growing more intense by the second.

He sat completely motionless for a full half-hour.

Until Xu Qingnan spoke, his tone entirely devoid of emotional coloring, telling him he could move now before shifting his gaze toward the brilliant, distant sunset.

Paradoxical as it was given that the words were meant to grant him freedom of movement Deng You blurted out, “We can go longer if you want. I don’t mind.”

“I’m done with the figure,” Xu Qingnan looked up at him. “And you’re blocking my view sitting there.”

Deng You hopped down from the ledge, his movements tinged with a reluctant lingering attachment. “Fine.”

Just as he shifted closer to Xu Qingnan, before he could even catch a glimpse of the canvas, Xu Qingnan stated, “I prefer to finish this alone. Step outside for now; I’ll show it to you when it’s done.”

The words carried an unmasked dismissal.

Yet Deng You didn’t feel offended in the slightest; he obediently turned and walked away.

As he reached the sliding door, he glanced back at Xu Qingnan’s back. Growing up, his family had hired countless renowned artists to paint portraits of him, yet this was the first time Deng You found himself genuinely anticipating the work of an unknown illustrator.

The daylight quickly faded outside. Soon, the group reassembled in the living room. Aside from Ren Xubai, who was presumably still recovering, six small communication wristbands essentially stripped-down versions of optical brains for the holographic world, each labeled with a participant’s name sat atop the coffee table.

Next to them lay a task card explaining that for the duration of the month-long recording, these wristbands were the sole authorized tools for communication. They featured only two functions: sending/receiving messages and transmitting an SOS signal. Furthermore, the messaging system only permitted contact with the production team. Every evening, participants were required to text a “Heartbeat Goodnight” to the production team, which would then be anonymously forwarded to their chosen crush of the day.

“Welcome to Day 1 of our stay, everyone~ Brought together by fate, let’s share a cozy first-impression dinner tonight!”

“Tonight, we’ll divide into three groups of two: one group will prepare dinner, one group will head out to purchase supplies for tomorrow’s mountain survival adventure, and the third group will handle cleanup and post-dinner chores.”

An envelope rested beside the cards. Judging by its thickness, it contained roughly a thousand interstellar coins the stated living expense budget for the month. Whichever group held the cash would be responsible for planning out the budget for the entire month.

Ye Yuyao had changed into a clean white shirt, his hair loosely gathered at the nape of his neck. He spoke up first, “Has the new guy still not logged on?”

The corners of Huo Zheng’s mouth flattened even further beside him.

Naturally, this didn’t escape Deng You’s notice. With a melodic oh, he chimed in, “We’ve already got Huo Zheng here, and Yuyao’s still thinking about the newbie?”

“We’ll all be friends anyway, and it’s already dark. Traveling by boat at night is bound to be dangerous,” Ye Yuyao pushed up his glasses, speaking in a mild tone. “I’d ask the same about anyone.”

Footsteps sounded from the stairwell. Ren Xubai descended as well, his complexion still somewhat pale, though noticeably better than before.

“Shall we divide the tasks then?” Ye Yuyao suggested. “Anyone want first pick? Fair warning, I can’t cook.”

Ren Xubai glanced at the contents of the task card, then shifted his gaze to Xu Qingnan.

The man was still clad in that black shirt, looking cool and indifferent. Because he sat with his arms crossed, his robust biceps strained the fabric to its limits. He occupied the single-seat sofa entirely, filling every inch of space without a single gap.

He definitely doesn’t know how to cook, Ren Xubai concluded internally.

That meant the cooking duty could be safely ruled out.

Besides, cooking sounded like an exhausting ordeal with little downtime for conversation, unlike the other two tasks where you could move around effortlessly and chat away to your heart’s content.

With his mind made up, Ren Xubai prepared to chime in and echo Ye Yuyao—

Only to be beaten to the punch.

“I can’t cook either.”

Ren Xubai swallowed a curse, snapped his head around, and locked eyes with Deng You.

The other man clearly shared his exact thought process.

Did something happen behind my back that I missed?

A sudden spike of crisis awareness flared in Ren Xubai’s chest.

Unaware of the silent, crackling hostility between the two, Xu Qingnan asked Ren Xubai, “Can you?”

What is that supposed to mean?! Does Xu Qingnan want to team up with me?!

A rush of elation surged through Ren Xubai. He didn’t forget to flash a triumphant smirk in Deng You’s direction before nodding with resolute firmness. “Yeah! I can’t either! We might as well team up—”

Xu Qingnan stood up, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Then I’ll just have to do it.”

Ren Xubai: “?” Deng You: “?”

Xu Qingnan turned toward the kitchen, an action that instantly captured everyone’s attention. “I’ll prepare dinner.”

Deng You and Ren Xubai rose to their feet in tandem, speaking in unison: “I’ll help.”

Xu Qingnan turned back, frowning. “Didn’t both of you just say you couldn’t cook?”

“I know a little bit,” Deng You blinked, offering a considerate smile. “Besides, I can’t let you do all the work. You’re here for romance, not to act as the group’s cook.”

“Then don’t get in my way.” Eager to secure some solitude and genuinely wanting to cook, Xu Qingnan unbuttoned his cuffs and neatly rolled his sleeves up past his elbows. “Consider me paired with whoever the missing person is.”

Ye Yuyao stood up at that moment. “In that case, Huo Zheng and I will handle the shopping. We’ll try to stretch the budget as much as possible; someone has to contribute.”

Ye Yuyao blinked, looking thoroughly confident in his financial management skills.

Ren Xubai opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden wave of burning pain in his abdomen made him hiss. “Hss—”

Xu Qingnan felt a headache coming on. The sooner he got rid of at least one of them, the better. “Did you drink water?”

“I did,” Ren Xubai nodded, his pale complexion making him look unusually docile. “I drank a lot.”

Xu Qingnan nodded. “Clearly not enough. Go back to your room and drink more.”

Ren Xubai was clearly susceptible to Xu Qingnan’s directives, answering obediently before tapping the air a few times to log off.

Unwilling to let a virtual avatar of Ren Xubai stare at him while he cooked, Xu Qingnan added, “Do it from inside your room.”

Catching his petty trick exposed, Ren Xubai pouted, muttered an oh, and trudged upstairs.

That left Deng You, who unconcernedly trailed Xu Qingnan into the kitchen, shook out a neatly folded apron, and offered, “Well, at least let me tie your apron.”

Xu Qingnan halted on the threshold, turning to face Deng You and taking the apron from his hands.

Truth be told, he would have preferred to say: I have no interest in Ren Xubai, and I have zero interest in you either.

Furthermore, he hated having strangers stand behind his back.

If someone stood within a meter behind him without him facing them, every muscle in Xu Qingnan’s body would lock up tight.

Yet, remembering how docilely Deng You had modeled for him earlier that afternoon

Xu Qingnan slipped the apron loop over his head, turned to face Deng You, and slightly opened his arms.

Deng You blinked, freezing in place.

Standing a step taller, Xu Qingnan looked down at him. At close range, his striking, chiseled features possessed an overwhelming presence. His voice remained cool and detached. “Staring for what? Aren’t you going to tie it?”

Realizing Xu Qingnan had no intention of turning around, Deng You stammered, “L-like this?”

Xu Qingnan merely replied coldly, “If you can’t do it, forget it.”

“I can, I can! Why wouldn’t I?!”

Deng You fumbled nervously, his fingers tangling in the apron strings as he tried to loop them.

Xu Qingnan stood still, waiting patiently without a trace of impatience.

Deng You quickly regained his composure, though he could feel the tips of his ears burning with a shameful heat.

He had met countless people over the years slender, graceful figures of both Alpha and Omega designations but none of them carried themselves quite like Xu Qingnan.

He felt like a reckless, hot-headed kid.

That’s twice today!

Refusing to back down, Deng You took another step forward, closing the distance instantly until he was facing Xu Qingnan’s firm, broad chest.

Waves of bodily heat radiated from the man standing right before him.

Deng You instinctively averted his gaze.

Ignoring the electric tingling spreading across his skin, he closed his eyes and let his fingers brush against the man’s waistline. Pulling the strings from the sides, his knuckles grazed lightly against that narrow, whip-cord resilient waist.

He looped them around his back.

From a distance, it looked remarkably like an embrace.

Xu Qingnan’s breathing hadn’t shifted in the slightest. He simply prompted, “Deng You.”

When Deng You failed to reply, Xu Qingnan’s limited patience ran out. He took a single step back, causing the apron strings to slip from Deng You’s fingers. Xu Qingnan caught them, deftly tied a quick-release knot behind his back, and secured it.

Still lost in a daze, Deng You stared fixedly at the suppression patch at the back of the man’s neck, following a sudden, irrational impulse to lean in closer.

Such a spicy man… what would his pheromones smell like?

“It’s tied,” Xu Qingnan said. “Anything else?”

“Nope,” Deng You snapped back to reality, rubbing his fingertips together as he stepped closer again. “I just want to look at you.”

Xu Qingnan suddenly turned on his heel, catching Deng You off guard and forcing him backward until the lower back of his spine hit the edge of the kitchen island. The cool touch of marble bit sharply through his clothes.

The man stepped forward, placing one hand flat on the counter beside Deng You’s hip, his sharp gaze completely unreadable.

“W-what is it?” Xu Qingnan wasn’t standing particularly close, yet Deng You found himself struggling for oxygen. He turned his face away, his answering voice sounding thoroughly flustered.

A faint trace of port-wine scent drifted out, carrying an intoxicating warmth. Xu Qingnan straightened up slightly. “Your pheromone leakage is acting up. Did you not apply your suppression patch properly?”

Deng You instinctively reached for the back of his neck, where the patch sat completely flush and seamless against his skin. He bit his lower lip, practically fleeing from Xu Qingnan’s gaze as he nodded hurriedly. “Right. I’ll go offline and change it.”

With the kitchen finally empty, Xu Qingnan heaved a mental sigh of satisfaction and began inspecting his future domain.

Living alone for so long meant he always needed projects to keep busy. Outside of work, Xu Qingnan poured himself into cooking. He particularly relished the process of prep work—it felt grounding, structured, and immersive. Washing every ingredient until water droplets clung to their surfaces, arranging them neatly on the counter, and then stepping up to the stove with absolute mastery. Every component hit the pan at the right moment with a crisp sizzle, releasing rich aromas amidst the crackle of frying oil. That was the quintessential warmth of human life that Xu Qingnan loved best.

With practiced knife skills, Xu Qingnan shredded a potato. Just as he sliced off the final piece, footsteps sounded from the doorway. Expecting Deng You to have returned, he looked up only to find Ren Xubai, still looking pale, holding a glass of water.

“Need something?”

Ren Xubai nodded. “Yeah, I’m sick.”

“Drinking water didn’t help?”

“Not that kind of sickness,” Ren Xubai walked into the kitchen, lowering his voice. “I lost a bit too much blood. Brother Xu knows what I mean, right?”

Xu Qingnan calmly withdrew his gaze and resumed his knife work. “No idea.”

“If it weren’t for Brother Xu, I’d probably be dead or missing right now,” Ren Xubai said, diligently stepping up to the opposite side of the counter. Seeing Xu Qingnan reach for a towel, he eagerly offered a clean hand towel. “The injury is on my back, and I made a mess trying to apply the ointment myself. Brother Xu, mind helping out?”

“You want to apply medicine in here?” Xu Qingnan asked. “This simulation only operates at seventy percent efficacy. Why don’t you just log off?”

Ren Xubai bit his lip, putting on a pitiful expression. “My injury can’t be exposed to others, and there’s no one offline to help me apply it.”

Xu Qingnan finally understood why the system’s software engineers had insisted on tethering virtual avatars so strictly to real-world biology, even raising the barrier for entry based on mental strength.

He had initially thought the feature was redundant having to log off and buy medical supplies just because of an injury sustained in-world.

It turned out to be a convenience specifically engineered for… unspeakable injuries like this.

Wiping his hands with the towel Ren Xubai had handed him, Xu Qingnan said coldly, “I told you that night—”

“I only trust you,” Ren Xubai interrupted, as if anticipating what Xu Qingnan would say, his tone taking on a coaxing, persuasive edge. “Otherwise, if word gets out, it’ll get messy. Right?”

Xu Qingnan finally halted his movements.

He stared quietly at him.

The kitchen lights cast Xu Qingnan’s silhouette from behind, amplifying his oppressive aura. His expression remained utterly placid, completely devoid of the annoyance one felt when threatened. There was no emotion in his eyes at all; looking at Ren Xubai felt less like looking at a person and more like observing a reckless, overconfident cub.

Truth be told, Xu Qingnan had recognized him long ago.

The watch on the young master’s wrist was a global limited edition; Xu Qingnan didn’t expect to encounter the exact same piece twice in a matter of days.

He simply hadn’t intended to involve himself further in the mess.

Yet the culprit had waltzed right to his doorstep.

“Repaying kindness with hostility, trying to blackmail me?”