I Really Like the Male Supporting Character (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 52
That night, Ah Luo didn’t wait for Shen Xi to come back to bed. Instead, a lot of people online noticed that Shen Xi had played games all night long, grinding rank points until morning.
Apparently, his ranking had been somewhere in the top hundred on the whole server, but by morning, he had climbed all the way to third place, which left countless netizens stunned.
The next day, Ah Luo saw him come out of the room next door with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He looked utterly haggard.
The two of them ran into each other at the door. The young man’s steps faltered immediately, and he gave Ah Luo a panicked glance. His expression was uncannily like that of a husband coming home late to face his wife—full of unconscious nervousness and an instinct to placate.
“Sister…”
Ah Luo just stared at him without saying anything.
The young man scratched his head awkwardly, as if trying to ease the awkward tension he felt in that way. His gaze darted away as he stammered, “Sister, I… I really had something to do last night…”
It wasn’t a lie, actually. The game season was coming to an end soon, and Shen Xi always pushed hard for rank when the season closed—he usually finished first every time.
But in the past, he only started playing like that during the final few days. This time, he had started over half a month early. Anyone with eyes could tell something was off.
Seeing him all flustered, Ah Luo let out a soft, pointed ‘hmph,’ which clearly expressed her displeasure. Then, she brushed past him without a glance and headed straight downstairs.
Shen Xi stared blankly at her retreating figure. She had walked right by him without sparing him a single look, with a blank expression and distant gaze, as if they were mere strangers who hardly knew each other.
Her light fragrance still lingered in the air, but Shen Xi’s heart had already dropped to rock bottom.
She was mad? Why was she mad? Because he didn’t do what she said?
At eight in the morning, everyone gathered downstairs in the living room on time to eat breakfast and hear the director announce the day’s mission.
Yesterday had been a going-out day. Today’s mission was to stay home and prepare a gift or surprise for their assigned pair, to help deepen their romantic connection.
This season’s cast didn’t include many who could cook, so today’s food was still provided by the production crew.
Ah Luo sat at the table eating breakfast with a calm, straight face. The young man beside her kept sneaking peeks at her, but seeing that she was completely ignoring him, his puppy-dog eyes drooped sadly.
In the livestream room, viewers caught wind of the mood and began posting questions.
[What happened? Why do Xin Luo and Shen Xi seem kind of off today?]
[Judging by their expressions, the goddess looks mad! Did the puppy do something to upset her?]
[Hahahahahahaha, I know, I know! Last night Sister Goddess told Lingshen to go to bed, but he rejected her and spent the whole night playing games! The poor miss waited alone all night—of course she’s not happy, hahahahahaha!]
[Damn, I don’t even know what to say…]
[Same… I mean, yeah, there’s probably a reason this guy’s been single since birth…]
On camera, after everyone finished breakfast, they began bustling about with their assigned mission.
Preparing a surprise for your partner—one that they’d actually like—sounded simple on the surface, but wasn’t easy in practice.
Ultimately, it all came down to how well they really knew each other, and whether they could tailor the surprise to their tastes.
Unlike yesterday, the couple that everyone was least optimistic about this time was Xin Luo and Shen Xi. The rapid-fire Q&A from the previous day had made it painfully obvious that Shen Xi knew very little about Xin Luo. Their compatibility ranked dead last among the four couples. Even the athlete and the model—whose interactions had struck the public as awkward—seemed more in sync than they did.
As soon as the mission was announced, the athlete Sun Ningyu went to the garden, clipped a huge bunch of dew-dappled roses, and wrapped them into a bouquet for Zhao Qianqian, which earned him a delighted, surprised smile on the spot.
Zhao Qianqian’s return gift was a home-cooked meal she made herself. It was her first time cooking, and though she followed a tutorial video step by step, it surprisingly didn’t turn into a disaster. That her first time attempt at cooking had been for him deeply moved Sun Ningyu.
Zhou Jiayin headed to the study to create a PowerPoint presentation. He filled it with every acting technique he’d learned throughout his career. Then, he printed it out into a book and gifted it to Wen Yuxin.
As for Wen Yuxin, her surprise was unexpected: she performed a dance for Zhou Jiayin.
There was a dance studio in the mansion. Wen Yuxin had studied ballet when she was young and hadn’t let it go to waste even after entering the entertainment industry. She performed a solo dance in the studio, and by the time the two of them emerged, half the day had already passed.
No one else had known what they were doing in there—only the livestream viewers had seen it. Wen Yuxin had danced a breath-taking performance for Zhou Jiayin, and when the dance ended, Zhou Jiayin couldn’t hold back and had kissed her.
This reignited the buzz around Zhou Jiayin and Wen Yuxin’s pairing. It also pushed the hashtag #What is it like to kiss a film emperor?# straight onto the trending topic list.
Lu Tao and Yan Jiaqi’s pairing also drew significant attention due to their past relationship. Lu Tao seemed to be trying to win back his ex-girlfriend, but Yan Jiaqi’s attitude was more reserved. Lu Tao presented a song he had composed for her, filled with heartfelt remorse and longing. It was deeply moving.
Yan Jiaqi’s response was also quite interesting. She wrote Lu Tao a letter. Its contents remained unknown, but it was clear to everyone that the ice between them had begun to thaw.
At this point, Ah Luo and Shen Xi were the only pair among the four who hadn’t made a move, so naturally, all eyes turned to them.
Netizens eagerly speculated what kind of surprise the two would prepare for each other. They even started betting games in the livestream chat. Given how popular the pairing was, the show producers—sly as they were—actually launched an official poll.
[Question: What do you think Shen Xi will give Xin Luo as a gift?
Options:
a) His most treasured keyboard
b) A hard-won game rank he grinded for all night
c) A flowery barrage of rainbow flattery
d) No matter what he gives, the goddess will be dissatisfied]
One glance at the options and it was clearly a joke. Netizens burst out laughing. Most people voted for option D. Option B came next, and A and C had a fair number of votes as well.
Ah Luo was unaware of the online chatter. She was still silently giving Shen Xi the cold shoulder.
That morning, after learning of the day’s mission, Shen Xi had been circling around her, hovering close for half the day. He was constantly on the verge of saying something but never quite managing to speak, as if he wanted to talk but didn’t dare.
Ah Luo, naturally, saw through the young man’s awkwardness. With the young man trailing behind her like a little tail, she brought him to the side room adjacent to the bedroom.
She hadn’t really been in this room before—it had always been set aside for Shen Xi’s livestreams, and she’d never paid it much attention.
The moment she walked in, the eye-catching gaming chair and mechanical keyboard drew her notice. She raised an eyebrow.
“You even brought your gaming chair?”
The young man scratched his head in slight embarrassment. “I had it shipped here earlier.”
Ah Luo crossed her arms and walked into the room. She glanced around before finally sitting down in the gaming chair.
She’d heard this chair was worth tens of thousands, and sure enough, the moment she sat down, it was incredibly comfortable. She leaned back, propped one arm on the armrest, and rested her chin on her hand as she looked at the young man and asked, “So? What kind of gift are you planning to give me?”
Shen Xi froze for a moment, like he didn’t register the question right away.
Xin Luo was wearing a white dress today. Shen Xi had once heard she liked the colour white and had been surprised. To him, Xin Luo was far too alluring and seductive for white. Her looks were best suited to rich, vivid reds.
But now, dressed in a flowing, fairy-like white gown, sitting in his custom-built, outrageously expensive gaming chair, her chin tilted up as she looked at him… He suddenly had the illusion that he was looking not at a girl, but a lofty, pure, and divine goddess.
She really was beautiful—exquisitely stunning, even. Her peach blossom eyes gleamed with light. The corners of her eyes naturally tinged with red. She looked breathtakingly charming.
In red, she was a dangerous beauty who could topple kingdoms, but in white, it was as if all that seductiveness had been washed away, and she became ethereal and untouchable.
Some actors were simply that good—they never confined themselves to a single style. As long as they wished it, they could take on a thousand different faces.
Strangely, Shen Xi suddenly recalled that phrase. He wasn’t sure where he’d seen it before, but it felt like the perfect description of the Xin Luo before him.
And he wasn’t the only one who felt this way—the livestream audience did too.
[Aaaahhhh someone help, Sister’s killing me!! She’s so beautiful I swear it’s not a gaming chair she’s sitting on—it’s a divine throne!!]
[What kind of celestial being is Xin Luo!? I was stunned when she played the seductive consort, and now I’m stunned all over again! She switched effortlessly between sultry and sacred—how is this even fair!?]
[If anyone tells me Xin Luo can’t act again I will fight them!!! How is this bad acting!? Haters, open your damn eyes and look!]
When the young man didn’t respond, Ah Luo lightly asked, “You’re not planning to give me anything?”
Shen Xi snapped out of it. He suddenly realised he’d been staring at her in a daze. His ears flushed red.
“No, no—just wait a sec, Sister,” he said. He shook his head quickly before rushing out of the room. It looked like he’d gone to fetch something.
Once he left, Ah Luo had a sudden impulse. She reached out and powered on the computer on the desk. Unsurprisingly, the high-end machine booted up almost instantly. However, when the desktop appeared, Ah Luo froze for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing.
[Wait wait wait—what did Xin Luo see?? Why is she suddenly laughing like that!?]
[I bet she saw something… _unspeakable_, hehe…]
[Ahhh I’m dying of curiosity!! Why can’t the crew assign a cameraman to follow her around!? These static indoor cams can’t catch any detail, ugh!!!]
As the livestream chat exploded with guesses, the young man returned. The moment he saw Xin Luo smiling at the screen, his steps halted—and his entire face turned bright red.
[DAMN! Lingshen’s reaction! There _is_ something on that computer!!]
Actually, it wasn’t anything outrageous—just a wallpaper. After gaming all night, Shen Xi had, on a whim, gone online to look for a photo of Xin Luo. He found one and set it as his desktop background.
He never expected the person herself to see it. Shen Xi wished he could sink straight into the floor.
Ah Luo took in his reaction with amusement sparkling in her eyes. She waved him over. “What’s wrong? Come here.”
Upon noticing the little box he was holding, she asked curiously, “Is that my gift?”
It was the first time all day that Xin Luo had smiled.
Because of that smile, Shen Xi forced himself to swallow the awkwardness gnawing at his heart. He stepped forward, opened the box in his hands, and held it out to her.
The young man lowered his gaze and softly said, “This is my Best Professional Player Award. I’m giving you all my love and glory.”
[Holy crap! That’s one of the hardest individual awards to win in the entire e-sports scene!!]
[‘I’m giving you all my love and glory’! What is this heavenly creature made of!? That was TOO smooth!]