I Became the Koi Actor After Entering the Book

**Chapter 82: I Like It Too**

Translator: Namizaki

*********************

The announcement of the Best Newcomer Award did little to ease the tension in the hall. After Chi Zhongqiao returned to his seat, the room grew even quieter, an invisible tension hanging over the heads of all the nominees.

With the Best Newcomer Award out of the way, the main events of the Peony Awards were about to begin. The most prestigious awards, such as Best Actor and Best Actress, were all slated for later in the ceremony.

Chi Zhongqiao handed his trophy to the curious Yan Yiyun, who had never seen such a grand award in her life. Yan Yiyun eagerly embraced it, running her hands over every inch of its surface.

Meanwhile, on stage, the host finished reading a sponsor’s advertisement and began introducing the next award: Best Supporting Actress.

The latter half of the awards ceremony was dedicated to the most highly anticipated categories.

Chi Zhongqiao could feel the cameras moving more frequently than before. After several more awards were presented, he subtly adjusted his posture. The Most Popular Actor Award was coming up soon.

While the Most Popular Actor Award didn’t carry the same weight as Best Actor or Best Actress, it was still a highly prestigious honor for actors, representing the loyalty of their fan base. The Peony Awards were no small affair; they didn’t engage in data manipulation or pre-determined outcomes. The data was reliable, and some brands even considered these awards when selecting endorsement partners.

The winner of the Most Popular Actor award was primarily determined by online voting. The voting channels closed last night, and officials began tallying the votes. Initially, both actors and fans could track the vote counts in real-time, but an hour before the deadline, a massive surge in traffic crashed the official website. While voting remained possible, the specific vote counts became invisible, preventing actors from seeing their final tallies.

By midnight last night, Chi Zhongqiao’s vote count had surpassed two million, leading second-place Li Jinghong by fewer than three hundred votes. Li Jinghong, having been a popular actor for many years, boasted exceptionally loyal fans. Chi Zhongqiao’s hard-won lead had been precarious throughout the campaign, with Li Jinghong repeatedly overtaking him, only to be pulled ahead again. This back-and-forth battle had played out over a dozen times, resembling a rollercoaster ride. Even casual observers couldn’t help but hold their breath.

In the final hour, anything could happen. Chi Zhongqiao might maintain his lead, or Li Jinghong could stage a comeback. With a margin of just three hundred votes, the gap was dangerously narrow.

A similar website crash had occurred during the final hour of a previous voting campaign. In that single hour, the second-place contender had surged ahead by over a thousand votes, snatching victory from the actor who had prematurely celebrated his win. At the awards ceremony, the supposed winner had nearly risen from his seat in triumph, only to become the year’s most ridiculed figure by online trolls.

Before the awards ceremony, Du Yusheng’s greatest concern had been the Most Popular Male Actor award. He desperately hoped that the previous actor’s embarrassment wouldn’t be repeated with Chi Zhongqiao.

The male host announced, “As of midnight tonight, the voting channels for the Most Popular Actor awards have closed. After three hours of vote tabulation, we are pleased to announce the two actors most beloved by the audience. The Peony Awards will bestow the Most Popular Male Actor award and the Most Popular Female Actor award upon these two individuals…”

The camera slowly panned across the nominees, capturing each of their expressions with precision.

The Most Popular Female Actor award went to Fei Xi, which came as no surprise. As one of the Four Young Female Stars, she had held her position for several years, maintaining a consistently sophisticated and glamorous public image. Her fans were fiercely loyal and easily excitable.

The lead actress of the film <Across the Water> narrowly missed the award, losing by a margin of 60,000 votes.

Next came the announcement of the Most Popular Male Actor award.

Whether present at the ceremony or watching the live stream, the cast and crew of <Campus Prince and Campus Belle> were now sweating profusely.

As the voting deadline approached, Chi Zhongqiao and Li Jinghong were separated by a mere three hundred votes. Such a razor-thin margin… Could Chi Zhongqiao maintain his first-place position?

Li Jinghong clasped his hands together, his gaze fixed forward, but his peripheral vision remained keenly focused on Chi Zhongqiao, trying to discern whether the other man’s expression betrayed anxiety or unwavering confidence.

Unfortunately for him, Chi Zhongqiao had already withdrawn his thoughts from Lu Yuzhou. His expression was perfectly controlled. After observing him for a while, Li Jinghong concluded that their expressions were likely quite similar.

An invisible tension permeated the entire venue. Sensing the palpable atmosphere, the host abandoned his usual suspenseful build-up. After briefly introducing the four nominees, he opened the envelope and announced: “The winner for Most Popular Male Actor is—Chi Zhongqiao! With 2,257,600 votes! Congratulations, Teacher Chi, for breaking the Peony Awards’ record for Most Popular Actor!”

This vote count was truly astonishing. Given the prestige of the Peony Awards, vote-rigging was virtually impossible; simply creating multiple accounts wouldn’t allow for additional votes.

Even if these two million-plus votes were put through a washing machine and spun dry, the amount of water that could be wrung out would be negligible.

The host announced loudly, “Please welcome Chi Zhongqiao back to the stage to accept his award! The vote counts for the other nominees will be released on the official website shortly!”

Chi Zhongqiao hadn’t expected his slim three-hundred-vote lead to hold, let alone surge by over two hundred thousand votes during the hour when the tallies were hidden. He stood up, bowed deeply to the audience, and walked onto the stage.

The camera panned across the seven nominees who hadn’t won, capturing every subtle expression. Despite their disappointment, they all wore genuine smiles of congratulations for the camera.

As Chi Zhongqiao accepted the trophy, he felt a wave of emotion. This was his second award of the night, and his second time standing on the winner’s podium.

However, the Most Popular Male Actor award was different from the others. While he could breeze through the acceptance speeches for the other awards with a few perfunctory remarks, this one required genuine gratitude. This award had been won through the tireless efforts of his fans, who had campaigned relentlessly and voted daily.

In an era saturated with surveys and polls, those who went to such lengths to support you—who checked in and voted every single day—deserved heartfelt appreciation.

Chi Zhongqiao lowered his head and gently kissed the crystal bud of the trophy. Turning to the microphone, he smiled warmly and began, “First, I want to thank my fans. Although I’m holding this trophy, it truly belongs to you. To me, it’s not just a beautiful crystal ornament or merely an award; it represents over two million hearts filled with affection and support…”

When he received the Best Newcomer Award, he merely recited a pre-prepared thank-you speech, appearing humble and understated. But when he held the Most Popular Male Actor trophy, the genuine warmth in his words moved everyone deeply.

Fans who had tirelessly campaigned for votes couldn’t help but cover their faces and weep.

“Our brother wasn’t even this happy when he won the Best Newcomer Award! He really loves the award we gave him!”

To have their efforts acknowledged by their idol, to hear his heartfelt gratitude, what more could they ask for? All they needed was this single expression of thanks.

Aside from those random giveaways, all Chi Zhongqiao could offer was this sincere expression of gratitude.

He calmly accepted the many accolades for his acting, remaining humble but not insecure, because he had earned them himself. However, he couldn’t accept the “popularity” he possessed with the same confidence.

Because that popularity was made up of countless genuine expressions of affection.

After finishing his thank-you speech, he bowed deeply to the camera.

This was the glory that all those who loved him had personally bestowed upon him.

*****

After the meeting adjourned, Lu Yuzhou was obliged to dine with the senior executives. Fortunately, these executives still had some conscience and didn’t drag him to a fancy restaurant. Instead, they settled in the Lu Corporation headquarters cafeteria.

It was quite late by then, and the cafeteria was nearly deserted except for a few white-collar workers putting in overtime. These few were clustered around the television, their hushed whispers occasionally breaking the silence.

Lu Yuzhou draped his coat over his arm and initially intended to keep his distance. But as he glanced at the television, a familiar figure caught his eye. In a split second, before his mind could even process it, he froze in his tracks—it was the live broadcast of the Peony Awards!

The Peony Awards ceremony was already nearing its conclusion, and the Best Actor award was being announced. As expected, the winner was Yang Hao.

Lu Yuzhou didn’t know Yang Hao personally; all he cared about was that the award hadn’t gone to his Brother Qiao.

The director, clearly trying to stir up drama, lingered the camera on the faces of the other nominees as Yang Hao walked down the aisle. Lu Yuzhou paid no attention to the others; his gaze was fixed solely on his Brother Qiao.

In the shot, Chi Zhongqiao maintained a polite smile. But the moment the host announced “Yang Hao,” he gently touched the trophy in his hand.

In Lu Yuzhou’s eyes, this subtle gesture was an expression of disappointment.

Lu Yuzhou’s heart clenched, and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

He stood at the front, lost in thought. The executives didn’t dare interrupt, assuming the young but remarkably capable President Lu had some instructions to give. But after waiting for what felt like an eternity, President Lu still hadn’t spoken.

President Chen of Lu Corporation’s subsidiary asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

Lu Yuzhou snapped out of his reverie. “Nothing.”

President Chen glanced at the television and chuckled. “I thought you were watching TV.”

Lu Yuzhou gave him a perfunctory glance. “Mm-hmm.”

President Chen was startled. In his mind, Lu Yuzhou was like an old cadre in a young man’s body—even more dedicated to his work than the middle-aged executives who poured their lives into their careers. Balancing his studies with his business responsibilities, he should have been the type of old-fashioned leader who barely used the internet.

President Chen quickly glanced back at the TV and realized it was broadcasting the Peony Awards ceremony live. Yang Hao was holding up his trophy, facing the camera. Seizing the opportunity, President Chen remarked, “You’re watching Yang Hao, aren’t you?”

Though President Chen wasn’t particularly tech-savvy, it so happened that his daughter was a die-hard fan of Yang Hao, making him familiar with the star.

“Who’s Yang Hao?” Lu Yuzhou asked.

Lu Yuzhou replied inexplicably, “I’m watching Brother Qiao.”

President Chen’s expression went blank with confusion. “Brother… Qiao?”

He frantically glanced back at the other executives. Qi Chuyang mouthed, “Chi Zhongqiao.”

A lightbulb went off in President Chen’s head—”that” Chi Zhongqiao, the one praised by the Public Daily, right?! Why didn’t they say so earlier? He knew about him too!

“Oh, you mean Chi Zhongqiao, right?”

His voice was a little too loud, startling the white-collar workers gathered around the TV. One employee, engrossed in the show, exclaimed without turning around, “Hey, someone else here likes Brother Qiao too?”

When she turned and saw Lu Yuzhou, her face went completely blank.

Holy shit… President Lu?! I’m going to die!

Noticing she had said “too,” Lu Yuzhou asked, “You like Brother Qiao a lot?”

Before she could answer, he smiled faintly, his cold features softening like winter thawing into spring. “I like him too.”

The employee’s mind dissolved into nothingness at his words, her brain echoing only, “I like him too.”

Mom, I think I just got the real deal.

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 🙂