Chapter 26: Arrogant and Gorgeous Vampire

Chapter 26: Arrogant and Gorgeous Vampire

“If you shed tears when you lose the sun, you also lose the stars.” – Tagore

Plans can’t keep up with changes. Although Zhi Qi agreed to accompany the boy to attend the Golden Tree Awards ceremony and wanted to see Jiang Qi receive the award, after all, she was a student.

Sometimes, with just one command from her mentor, she had to... roam the meadow.

In their “arduous profession,” opportunities to establish specialized practice groups were rare. They needed to conduct field research on various animals, involving biodiversity surveys, and this time the destination was the wetlands in the rainforest of Yunnan.

It could also be considered an internship task. The orders were quite urgent, and even Zhi Qi only received the notification from her mentor two days before departure. She almost felt dizzy as if she had been hit on the head with a stick.

As soon as she heard that they would be gone for about half a month, Zhi Qi immediately thought that this trip would probably clash with the awards ceremony that Jiang Qi mentioned.

...Oh no, what should she do now?

Zhi Qi unconsciously frowned, clearly showing a troubled look. Seeing this, the mentor raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked, “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow. Any problem?”

“...No problem.” Of course, she couldn’t say there was a problem.

After watching her mentor leave, Zhi Qi drummed her cheeks in distress. How could she explain this to Jiang Qi?

Although the boy definitely wouldn’t blame her, she couldn’t help feeling regretful. What if Jiang Qi won an award? It would be such a pity not to see it with her own eyes.

Zhi Qi’s childish heart roared a few times, but after the roar, she could only silently sigh and send a message to Jiang Qi: [crying face]

Jiang Qi was probably playing with his phone at this time and instantly replied: [Hmm?]

[Zhi Qi: I’m sorry, I can’t accompany you to the awards ceremony.]

Just at this moment, Jiang Qi, who was listening to his agent talk about the Golden Tree Awards in the office, was stunned for a moment, his slender fingertips frozen on the phone screen for a few seconds. Before he could figure out how to reply, the girl sent another message, seemingly feeling wronged in her words —

[Zhi Qi: Wuu wuu wuu, my mentor asked me to join the experimental group, it was a sudden notice, I have to go to Yunnan for half a month.]

And the Golden Tree Awards were next week, so naturally, she wouldn’t be able to make it.

But Jiang Qi found that what he regretted more after hearing this wasn’t “Zhi Qi can’t accompany him,” but rather “not being able to see Zhi Qi for half a month.”

The young man’s long eyelashes drooped with a hint of disappointment, casting a shallow shadow on his fair lower eyelids.

He emitted an atmosphere of ‘disappointment’, sinister and gloomy. Jiang Qi could clearly feel a vague restlessness in his own emotions, his throat unconsciously rolling, but his reply to Zhi Qi was very restrained: “[Stay safe, waiting for your return].”

He couldn’t show his negative emotions in front of Zhi Qi, she would worry.

But facing others... there was no need to hide. So much so that when the agent in front of Jiang Qi kept talking incessantly, he found his gloomy complexion frightening. The agent was specially assigned by the company to Jiang Qi after signing with Chen Ding, a professional named Xiao Yongfei, also known as Chen Ding’s ‘Gold Medal Agent’.

Xiao Yongfei had been in this line of work since his twenties, climbing up from the bottom for more than a decade. What kind of person hadn’t he seen or dealt with? So, without doubt, the company naturally entrusted Jiang Qi, this ‘difficult character’, to him.

But after spending a few days together, Xiao Yongfei felt that this boy Jiang Qi, apart from being a bit reserved and cold, wasn’t as difficult to deal with as the rumors had it. He was quite professional in handling various schedules and readily agreed to them.

Until today, Xiao Yongfei discovered Jiang Qi’s unknown stubbornness.

For example, his current manner of speaking. It was evident that the youth in front of him was absent-minded, his words going in one ear and out the other — and his complexion looked extremely ugly. Could it be that he had unintentionally said something harsh just now?

Xiao Yongfei frowned, not believing that he couldn’t handle this naive youth.

Just imagine, a remarkably handsome newcomer with a legendary background making his debut in movies for the first time, and he’s nominated for Best Actor. How massive is the hype?

The entire entertainment industry treated this award ceremony as a non-combative publicity battle.

Early in the morning, Jiang Qi was dragged out of his home by Xiao Yongfei and Qiu Mi.

He yawned faintly, his eyelids still fighting to stay open, and he was dragged all the way to the studio for styling. The outfit had already been chosen, an early autumn haute couture by Armani. A pure black shawl-style suit, with a slightly flipped cut, perfectly complementing Jiang Qi’s inherently ambiguous aura.

His jet-black short hair was swept upwards, his sharp brows and starry eyes on full display, his refined features almost sharp enough to pierce through the screen.

As the makeup artist brushed up Jiang Qi’s appearance, they couldn’t help but secretly admire—especially when Jiang Qi occasionally opened his eyes. Those light-colored eyes, like glass jewels, seemed to have a captivating power when they glanced over.

He was tall and slender, with a pale complexion, resembling a gorgeous vampire, naturally the most eye-catching presence on the red carpet.

Jiang Qi didn’t know when he would make his appearance on the red carpet, whether he would be first or last, or the details of those meticulous considerations. Anyway, whenever Xiao Yongfei told him to go up, he would go.

He had no sense of ‘business’, silently completing the long red carpet of the Golden Tree Awards.

Although he could hear the deafening screams and see countless cameras flashing at him, Jiang Qi’s expression remained indifferent throughout. Yet this indifference was often misinterpreted as ‘sour-faced’, unhappiness, or not valuing the Golden Tree Awards—leading to another round of sarcastic comments and criticism, turning into a battle between fans and anti-fans.

Meanwhile, Zhi Qi, thousands of miles away, watched the live broadcast of the Golden Tree Awards while eating instant noodles, almost jumping up when she saw Jiang Qi appear.

“What the heck?” Her roommate in the hotel room was startled by her, nearly spilling her noodles. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Jiang Qi, Jiang Qi!” Zhi Qi pointed at the TV screen, where a young man in a black suit, exceptionally handsome, caught her infatuated excitement. “I really like him!”

In front of others, Zhi Qi hardly ever concealed her love for Jiang Qi and her ‘fan identity’.

“Oh, Jiang Qi.” The roommate also knew about this recently controversial figure. She glanced at him, sighed, and commented, “Indeed, he’s handsome, but his face is too sour. He seems to always be like this. How can you fans bear it?”

In her roommate’s view, being a fan essentially meant enjoying the star’s performance and bringing joy to oneself. But someone like Jiang Qi...

Sure, he’s good-looking, but just being the target of so much criticism could be exhausting. Plus, he’s so arrogant and doesn’t even crack a smile. Why bother supporting such an ‘idol’? Wouldn’t it just bring frustration?

As she listened to her roommate’s analytical criticism, Zhi Qi’s smile gradually faded away.

The young girl’s dark eyes stared unblinkingly at Jiang Qi on the screen until he finished walking the red carpet and left. Then, she quietly found an excuse to defend Jiang Qi, “But he’s a great actor, good-looking, and has other likable qualities.”

“Many actors are good-looking and talented.” Her roommate shrugged dismissively. “But not many are as arrogant as him. Look at him, not even a smile when walking the red carpet. If he’s so unhappy, why bother coming? As a public figure, doesn’t he know negative energy spreads?”

“How do you know he’s unhappy?” Zhi Qi retorted, somewhat annoyed. “Maybe he’s just naturally not inclined to smile.”

Jiang Qi has been like this since childhood, what does an internet critic know?

But even as she argued, Zhi Qi couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy this time.

Because... maybe Jiang Qi actually had a reason to be unhappy. After all, she ‘stood him up’, so could his unhappiness today be because of her?

With her phone in hand, Zhi Qi hesitated for a moment, then sent a WeChat message to Jiang Qi: [If you shed tears when you lose the sun, you also lose the stars. Jiang Qi, I’m watching you win.]

Though she didn’t know if the youth amidst the chaos of fame would receive this message, Zhi Qi wanted to send her well-wishes in advance. Hopefully, she could be the legendary ‘lucky carp’, bringing him good luck with her words.