QT: Don't fall in love with the Male Lead - Chapter 149: Don't die tragically in someone else's arms

Han Yu walks around the house like a kicked puppy, giving Xi Zirui longing glances from time to time — that Xi Zirui pretends not to notice.

He’s only confused as to why Han Yu hasn’t approached him yet. He stays close, makes himself available, but doesn’t breach the issue of Xi Zirui and Jin Ranyu’s dance at all.

It’s not like he and Jin Ranyu spend any time together — they’re in different teams for once — but if they as much nod at each other in passing, Han Yu will look like someone spit in his food and kicked his dog all at once.

He’ll pout dejectedly but keep all his feelings to himself, which Xi Zirui finds immensely endearing.

Xi Zirui is almost angry at himself for finding absolutely everything Han Yu does charming.

If circumstances where different he might have admitted that he believes him already, but he genuinely wants to see if a little distance will help Han Yu remember anything.

Xi Zirui isn’t necessarily avoiding him, just being more frosty than he would normally.

Well, at least compared to his actions after the first world.

He’s being downright kind compared to how the two of them went at each other when they first met.

They’re in Bai Mi’s singing lessons when the resemblance between this world and the first one strikes him all over again. He’s equally out of his depth, even more so than when he was piloting a space ship, or being a master cultivator, but he feels like an entire lifetime has passed between then and now.

It’s almost funny how he panicked at every little thing back then, afraid of being found out, afraid of the consequences of failing at something he didn’t even really care about.

Looking back, it feels like all of that happened to a different person.

Because now, when Bai Mi snaps her fingers at him, and asks him, “Why aren’t you singing?”

Instead of fainting, Xi Zirui just shrugs his shoulders and tells her, “I don’t feel like it, I’m going to take a break.”

He walks away from their group and goes sit down next to a table to water bottles, picking one for himself.

Bai Mi follows after him, her high heeled shoes clicking loudly on the wood floor. “If you don’t get back there and sing your part, I’m going to destroy you at the voting tomorrow.”

Her tone means business, Xi Zirui has absolutely no doubt she means what she’s saying.

Which is why he smiles a little to himself, and shrugs again. “Laoshi should do what she thinks is best,” he says, taking a long sip of water.

She fumes in place for some time, clearly weighing the pros and cons of dragging him back by the hair and deciding it isn’t worth it, before stomping off angrily.

Xi Zirui is absolutely not staying in this godforsaken show.

If leaving will kill him this world, then he’ll do his damndest to get voted out.

Surely all his ‘fans’ will rethink their admiration after they see Xi Zirui completely disregard his idol training.

—

Su Xueyi, as expected, makes things harder for him.

“I have no tolerance for slackers,” Su Xueyi says, when Xi Zirui remains seated during role assignment.

“I’m not feeling very well, laoshi should just give my role to someone else,” Xi Zirui says, clutching his stomach.

Su Xueyi isn’t so easily fooled. He takes out his mobile from his pocket and taps for a few seconds, he finds something that makes him smile smugly to himself, and then turns the phone around to show Xi Zirui a video of him walking leisurely into the Academy and whistling quietly to himself.

“You seemed fine five minutes ago,” he says, and pockets his phone again. “Practice your lines like everyone else.”

Probably anticipating a scene, Han Yu pulls him to the side. “I’ll practice with you, gege.”

Xi Zirui relents, shooting Su Xueyi a glare before following Han Yu to a secluded corner.

They’re both reprising famous monologues of Su Xueyi’s previous roles.

The sheer egomania is astounding.

Some poor trainees have the bad luck of playing the dying lover, while another trainee plays yet another of Su Xueyi’s roles crying over their unfair and premature death.

In comparison, Xi Zirui and Han Yu got lucky with their relatively dignified monologues — which probably means that it wasn’t Su Xueyi who assigned to roles.

That realization makes Xi Zirui worry that someone is maybe trying to keep him in the competition.

“You go first, gege,” Han Yu says, waving with his script in hand.

Xi Zirui read through his lines a couple of times, and even though he’s doing a monologue it’s still a lot less text than what he had to memorize when he was playing Hai Yaomei.

He gives his own script to Han Yu and clears his throat, getting ready to ham it up to hell and back.

“When the darkest night comes, we brave men have only the fire of our ideals to light our path.” He stops, takes a deep breath and gazes dramatically into the middle distance, his chin held high. “The road is lonely and treacherous, but we endure because the fire that burns inside us is fiercer than that burning around us.”

Xi Zirui closes his eyes and lifts one hand to his chest, debating the merits of trying to push out a single solitary tear.

Some of the gloom lifts from Han Yu’s eyes, like the sun trying to peek through an overcast sky.

Xi Zirui’s exaggerated performance almost wrenches a smile out of him.

“You have no respect,” Su Xueyi says, darkening Xi Zirui’s line of sight like a bad omen. “Your fellow trainees are all working hard and you’re making a mockery out of their effort.”

A ditzy boy with light coloured hair and peach blossom eyes pipes up, “I don’t mind. If he doesn’t try hard it’s one less person for me to compete against.”

His words meet with a small mumble of encouragement.

Xi Zirui shoots him a thumbs up from behind Su Xueyi’s back. He hopes he makes to the final lineup.

On the receiving end of Su Xueyi’s vicious glare, the boy immediately slinks back into the group of his taller teammates, the murmurs of agreement dying with his hasty retreat.

Su Xueyi turns to Xi Zirui with a disconcertingly large smile. “I think your talents are being wasted right now, maybe you were right and I should give your role to someone else.”

—

Xi Zirui’s new role consists of playing the gasping, dying lover in Jin Ranyu’s arms, previously played by Cao Fei who now gets his monologue.

If possible, Cao Fei is even more upset by this turn of events than Xi Zirui.

Xi Zirui hears him mumble, “I can’t have anything nice,” under his breath as they switch scripts.

His new script consists of “you…are…the..greatest…man…in the world. Little old me…cough, cough, is honored to…have been…loved…by…you.” — and scene.

He wonders if Su Xueyi only accepts roles in which his character is singlehandedly responsible for saving the world and curing cancer and HIV while he’s at it.

Cao Fei isn’t the only person upset by Xi Zirui’s demotion to dying lover.

He can feel Han Yu’s pining all the way across the room.

—

The activity that evening consists of having each team forage for ingredients in the garden to use for dinner. The team who finds the least ingredients in the allotted time will have to cook for the winners.

Xi Zirui isn’t in a mood to cook, so he actually makes an effort this time around, and tries to find as many ingredients as he can.

In the end, Jade team wins.

Xi Zirui is resting in the dorm, when Han Yu approaches him. “Can I talk with gege?”

Xi Zirui nods and and Han Yu sits down on the bed next to him. “Is gege still determined to leave the show?”

“Yes, I have no interest in staying here,” Xi Zirui says honestly, meeting Han Yu’s eyes. “I’m not joining a boyband.”

Han Yu nods, his eyes downcast. “I wish gege would reconsider.”

“Why? It’s not like you’re going to join the band either.”

“I can’t leave until I’m voted out, or until the production decides I’m no longer needed here,” he sighs. “I’ve signed a contract too. It’s different from the one gege signed but it keeps me here just the same.”

Before Xi Zirui can say anything, Han Yu reaches across the bed and takes his hand. “I can’t explain it, but I want to spend more time with gege. I feel like if I never see gege again, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Xi Zirui meets Han Yu’s eyes, and returns the grip around his fingers. “I feel the same, but we can meet after I leave. I’d love to have some time with didi away from these cameras.”

Han Yu looks up at Xi Zirui from under his lashes and smiles shyly, nodding once.

Xi Zirui no longer wants to quit — he doesn’t want to die in this world, not now that he knows there might still be hope for him and Han Yu — but he’s fairly certain he’ll be voted out tomorrow. There’s no way any of the viewers seeing his lackluster performance actually want him to remain on the show, and he still thinks that’s for the best.