I Became the Koi Actor After Entering the Book

**Chapter 81: Best Newcomer Award**

Translator: Namizaki

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The autograph board stood before the four nominees. Li Jinghong, with the media’s gaze fixed on his back, gripped the pen tightly. Summoning his actor’s poise, he maintained a flawless smile as he signed his name on the board before passing the pen to Fei Xi.

Fei Xi signed her name and handed the pen to Chi Zhongqiao.

Chi Zhongqiao gestured for Yan Yiyun to sign first. After she finished, he took the pen and wrote his own name. Guided by staff, the group then entered the venue together.

Li Jinghong watched Chi Zhongqiao take a seat nearby, his expression growing complex.

How long has it been? Chi Zhongqiao is already sitting in the same row as me…

No, it wasn’t just sitting in the same row—they were competing for the same award. The media had listed Chi Zhongqiao alongside the “Four Young Male Stars,” yet also drew a clear distinction between them. This excessively young and handsome man had been stamped with “acting prowess” and “method actor” from the moment he debuted.

Unlike Li Jinghong, a fading idol nearing the age for a career transition, Chi Zhongqiao possessed a superior public image and a string of memorable, critically acclaimed roles.

Li Jinghong and Chi Zhongqiao had overlapping nominations for two awards: Best Actor and Most Popular Male Actor. These awards were particularly crucial for actors like Li Jinghong, who were at a pivotal point in their careers, seeking to transition to more serious roles.

If he could win Best Actor…

Suddenly, Li Jinghong heard a faint commotion. Even Chi Zhongqiao, who usually remained unfazed, turned his head.

When Li Jinghong looked back, he saw Yang Hao entering the hall, surrounded by staff. Despite the crowd around him, Yang Hao’s expression remained gentle as he took a seat two rows ahead of them. A bitter taste filled Li Jinghong’s mouth—he had almost forgotten that Yang Hao was also nominated for Best Actor.

Li Jinghong couldn’t help but think: If <Between Mountains and Rivers> had premiered just a few weeks earlier, it would have been eligible for the previous Peony Awards. Unfortunately, it hadn’t, making Yang Hao the strongest contender among the four nominees.

He watched as Yang Hao settled into the seat directly in front of Chi Zhongqiao. Barely two seconds later, Yang Hao twisted around to strike up a conversation with Chi Zhongqiao.

Li Jinghong: “??”

Chi Zhongqiao was equally surprised by Yang Hao’s sudden turn. He had been coaching Yan Yiyun on memorizing lines faster—her weakness—when Yang Hao leaned over the back of his seat and interjected, “Hello.”

Chi Zhongqiao startled. “Hello, Brother Yang.”

Yang Hao took the initiative. “Don’t be so formal. My Sister is a huge fan of your Shang Tang. Could you sign this for her?” He had brought a bag to the awards ceremony and pulled out a copy of Night Capital Magazine, along with a pen.

Chi Zhongqiao silently accepted them and signed his name on an inner page of the magazine.

Yang Hao carefully tucked it away. “My Sister knew I was coming here today and kept asking me to bring back your autograph. Thank you.”

In the entertainment industry, it’s common to use one’s “siblings” as a shield when flattering someone, often claiming that a family member is a huge fan of a particular role. Even Chi Zhongqiao, who was completely alone in the world, had been forced by circumstances to invent several younger siblings or friends.

But Chi Zhongqiao had never encountered such genuine sincerity before. Yang Hao was clearly not joking.

After putting the magazine away, Yang Hao smiled at him.

Other celebrities gradually entered the venue, and the Peony Awards ceremony officially began. The hosts took their places, and the hall’s lights suddenly shifted, becoming dazzlingly bright.

Cameras constantly shifted position, trying to capture every face in the crowd.

Chi Zhongqiao possessed an innate sensitivity to cameras that far surpassed that of ordinary people. As the camera swept past, he tilted his head and smiled.

The camera slowly shifted its position, moving toward the edge of the room. Chi Zhongqiao suddenly felt a sense of disorientation—he couldn’t recall ever sitting so close to the stage at any major awards ceremony before.

At the Flying Hope Awards, he had benefited from the production team’s recognition and sat in the middle-front rows alongside other supporting cast members who hadn’t been nominated.

But today, at the Peony Awards…

Chi Zhongqiao glanced up. He was remarkably close to the stage—just a few steps from his seat would easily bring him onto the platform.

He found the situation surreal.

When he first came into this world, he hadn’t even known if he would survive to the end. He had simply embraced a “go with the flow” attitude, drifting along until now. As a perpetually second-tier actor who had never achieved mainstream success, even after his rebirth, he had only aimed to push forward to the best of his ability, without expecting any particular achievements.

He had been like a spectator standing still in a rushing river, his movements—whether to advance, retreat, or remain—entirely dictated by his whims.

Yet this mindset had completely transformed in a short time.

All because of Lu Yuzhou.

He was desperate to prove that Lu Yuzhou wasn’t being biased. Having lived for decades without ever being a burden to anyone, the realization that he was now weighing Lu Yuzhou down suddenly overwhelmed him. When he accepted the role in <Campus Prince and Campus Belle>, he hadn’t yet shaken off the influence of his previous character, Shang Tang. Given his usual temperament, he would never have considered taking on any new roles under such circumstances. One reason was that he couldn’t fully immerse himself in a new character while still haunted by the last. Another was that he needed time to readjust after becoming too deeply immersed in a role.

He never imagined that accepting that film for Lu Yuzhou’s sake would lead to this moment.

Others said that the lap of luxury was the graveyard of heroes, but somehow, it had become something else entirely for him.

Chi Zhongqiao gazed at the glaring lights, suddenly longing to see Lu Yuzhou.

What was Lu Yuzhou doing right now?

Was he in a meeting?

Facing an empty, brightly lit conference hall, just like him?

Without even needing to recall, Chi Zhongqiao could easily conjure up the image of Lu Yuzhou in his impeccably tailored suit. He glanced down at his own suit—one Lu Yuzhou had personally ordered for him. Before he left the car, Lu Yuzhou had fastened the buttons himself. Chi Zhongqiao unconsciously reached out to fidget with the buttons, his thoughts drifting openly and unapologetically.

The host’s voice echoed through the venue, capturing everyone’s undivided attention. Each award carried the weight of gold, but Chi Zhongqiao was an exception.

His mind was consumed by thoughts of Lu Yuzhou, his wandering thoughts fluttering like winged creatures to the Lu Corporation headquarters. He didn’t hear a word the host said until the lengthy opening ceremony concluded and the first award was announced. The thunderous applause from the audience finally snapped Chi Zhongqiao back to reality.

He raised his hand and joined in the applause. On stage, the winner accepted the crystal trophy from the presenter with trembling hands, standing on the podium almost speechless.

After the winner left the stage, the host quickly regained control, warming up the atmosphere before announcing the next award.

The initial Peony Awards categories focused on animation, unrelated to live-action performances.

Chi Zhongqiao used this time to clear his mind and regain control of his expression. After all, everyone else was anxiously awaiting their awards—what would it look like if he were the only one sitting on the sidelines, radiating pink bubbles of infatuation?

As the Best Supporting Actor and Best Supporting Actress awards were announced, Chi Zhongqiao felt Yan Yiyun beside him tense up completely.

Just as Chi Zhongqiao was feeling puzzled, Yan Yiyun whispered nervously, “Brother Qiao, it’s time for the Best Newcomer Award.”

Chi Zhongqiao: “……”

He gently reminded her, “You’re nominated too.”

Yan Yiyun: “I don’t stand a chance!”

Chi Zhongqiao: “Then why are you so nervous?”

Yan Yiyun: “You’ve been so calm, I’m nervous for you!”

Chi Zhongqiao was about to reassure her that he didn’t care much about awards, but the words caught in his throat. Fine, he thought, I am a little interested in this award, for Lu Yuzhou’s sake.

After all, if it weren’t for Lu Yuzhou, he wouldn’t have taken the role in <Campus Prince and Campus Belle>.

The moment Chi Zhongqiao thought of Lu Yuzhou, his recently regained focus drifted away again.

Yan Yiyun misinterpreted his faraway expression, assuming he truly didn’t care at all. She said solemnly, “Brother Qiao, please show at least some respect for this prestigious award!”

Chi Zhongqiao chuckled.

The host had already begun reading the introduction for the Best Newcomer Award. The camera panned across the nominees one by one as the female host teased the audience, while the male host joked with the nominees about their chances.

Chi Zhongqiao remained as steady as a mountain. When the male host mentioned him, the camera focused on him, and Chi Zhongqiao subtly curved his lips into a smile, revealing just a hint of nervousness.

“Oh, Teacher Chi seems a little nervous too,” the male host remarked.

“Since everyone’s so tense, let’s take a break for—an ad! Wow, Duan Ran looked so nervous just now!” The female host exclaimed.

Duan Ran, whose name had been called out, gave an awkward laugh. He was also a nominee for the Best Newcomer Award.

The male host quickly recited the advertisement script, relieving Duan Ran’s embarrassment.

After the ad break, the female host stopped teasing and tore open the red envelope in her hand. “The winner of the Best Newcomer Award has already been decided, and their name is right here. It’s—Chi Zhongqiao!”

As the other nominees’ expressions dimmed, the camera locked onto Chi Zhongqiao the moment the host announced his name.

Facing the camera, Chi Zhongqiao froze for a moment, looking slightly dazed. Only after the host’s gentle reminder did he press his lips together in a smile and stand up.

However, Yan Yiyun, who was sitting right next to him, didn’t sense any genuine nervousness. She strongly suspected that Brother Qiao’s earlier confusion had all been an act.

For Chi Zhongqiao, awards were merely icing on the cake, and he wasn’t particularly fond of cake. He wore the perfect expression of nervous bewilderment as he walked down the red-carpeted aisle, but his heart remained unmoved.

After all, the Peony Award for Best Newcomer paled in comparison to the Flying Hope Award for Best Actor. It wasn’t enough to fulfill the promise he’d made to Lu Yuzhou that day.

As he accepted the weighty trophy from the presenter, its heft reminded him of the Best Newcomer Award Lu Yuzhou had carefully displayed in their home’s display cabinet.

The male host announced, “<Campus Prince and Campus Belle> marked Mr. Chi’s film debut, and his performance was truly the film’s crowning glory. The Best Newcomer Award is well-deserved! Industry critics have praised both the film and Mr. Chi’s performance highly. We eagerly anticipate more outstanding works from him in the future…”

Clutching the trophy, Chi Zhongqiao bowed to the presenter and adjusted the microphone amid the applause.

Suddenly, he realized he wasn’t entirely indifferent. At least the word “Best” still suited Lu Yuzhou, didn’t it?

His Yuzhou wouldn’t mind adding another less significant award to his collection.

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Zaki~ English is not my first language, but I’ll try to get the translations as close as possible to the Author’s work. If you see any grammatical errors or mistakes in the translation, please feel free to drop them in the comments section so I can correct them immediately. Thank you and Happy Reading 🙂