I Became the Koi Actor After Entering the Book

**Chapter 91: *The Patriot***

Translator: Namizaki

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In August, <The Cage> began releasing individual character posters.

Amidst widespread anticipation, Chi Zhongqiao’s poster was finally revealed.

The Dragon was bound to a stone pillar, his handsome features veiled in a misty haze. His horns were broken, and tiny scales shimmered faintly at the corners of his eyes. Beneath the chains, his shoulder blades and chest appeared gaunt.

His upper body was human, but his lower half was a dragon’s tail, trailing into a pool of water, bloodied scales scattered everywhere.

Yet his eyes held the vastness of an entire frozen ocean, captivating all who gazed upon them. Though confined to a cramped chamber, the Dragon seemed capable of summoning frost, storms, and rain with a mere glance.

“Holy shit! This is way too beautiful!”

“So beautiful I’m crying (or maybe it’s just because it’s so tragic)”

“Waaah! Battle-worn! It reminds me of the young general again!”

“I want to make him cry! Make him cry! (Sorry, I’m a monster)”

“Ahhh! He looks so miserable but still doesn’t seem weak at all! Waaah! He’s truly a divine being!”

By mid-August, <The Patriot> had completed production and passed censorship. Promotional efforts officially began, with broadcast rights sold to a local television station. The full series was scheduled to air in October.

For most of mid-August, Chi Zhongqiao was busy traveling with the production team for promotional events.

Lu Yuzhou, who had finally managed to shake off Lu Zhuo, was left speechless.

President Lu deeply realized that when two people are together, it’s largely pointless if only one of them has time.

Chi Zhongqiao had always been a highly professional celebrity, but Lu Yuzhou had never seen him so actively and enthusiastically participating in promotional activities. Whenever asked about it, Chi Zhongqiao would lazily lean against him, smile, and offer no explanation.

Du Yusheng had also never witnessed Chi Zhongqiao being so proactive in promoting any project before. He almost suspected something had happened to Chi Zhongqiao in the United States.

In the past, Chi Zhongqiao had cooperated with promotions, but he had never been so closely involved in monitoring the drama itself during the campaign. Chi Zhongqiao’s intense focus on <The Patriot> left Du Yusheng in disbelief—Chi Zhongqiao reviewed every poster and promotional video as soon as they were finalized.

If the Little Prince (CZQ) wasn’t satisfied, he would directly contact the relevant personnel and demand revisions.

No one dared refuse to make changes, not when the Little Prince was also the producer.

Still, Chi Zhongqiao’s behavior remained somewhat peculiar.

When he wandered into Du Yusheng’s office for the second time that day, Du Yusheng poured him a cup of tea and ventured cautiously, “Did you see something online?”

Chi Zhongqiao shook his head. “No, everything’s been fine lately.”

“Don’t pretend. This is your first time leading a TV series as both the male lead and producer. Aren’t you feeling immense pressure?” Du Yusheng carefully observed Chi Zhongqiao’s facial expressions.

Chi Zhongqiao slowly adopted a questioning look. “Pressure? It’s manageable.”

“You’re clearly tense! You’ve never been this proactive with promotion before. And as soon as you returned, you’ve been glued to Director Yu’s side, scrutinizing every detail like a screenwriter. You’ve personally overseen the entire production process. Even with <Campus Prince and Campus Belle>, you never hovered like this. Are you worried about…?”

A flash of insight struck Du Yusheng, and he blurted out, “The Peony Awards?!”

Chi Zhongqiao rested his clasped hands against his chin, a faint smile playing on his lips. He didn’t deny it.

He wanted the Peony Award for Best Actor.

Under that smile, Du Yusheng suddenly understood.

The Chinese Television Peony Awards ceremony would be held on April 16th of the following year, honoring dramas and actors nominated from the previous and current years.

<The Patriot> had just made the nomination deadline, ensuring its eligibility. Whether it would win, and in what categories, remained uncertain.

Du Yusheng privately believed Chi Zhongqiao deserved the Best Actor award.

This explained why Chi Zhongqiao had rushed to oversee the drama’s production immediately upon returning to China, and why he had poured his heart and soul into his performance. From the very beginning, his goal had been the Peony Award for Best Actor.

Du Yusheng was astonished. He narrowed his eyes, studying Chi Zhongqiao for a moment, and for the first time, he glimpsed a hint of “ambition” in this overly handsome and mild-mannered young man.

Moreover, that ambition carried an almost certain sense of conviction.

Chi Zhongqiao lowered his head to sip his tea, then said, “Publicity has little to do with winning awards. My cooperation during the promotional period has even less to do with it.”

Du Yusheng looked puzzled.

Chi Zhongqiao smiled. “While I can’t completely disregard practical considerations, <The Patriot> came to me when it was still just a script. Of course I love this project as much as the screenwriter does.”

Indeed, Chi Zhongqiao’s affection for <The Patriot> likely ran even deeper than the director’s.

Du Yusheng nodded slowly.

Chi Zhongqiao set down his cup. “My enthusiasm stems solely from <The Patriot>’s unique qualities.”

The person who brought it to him was unique.

The things it would bring him were also unique—not fame, popularity, or cold trophies, but his marriage proposal.

Well, though Lu Yuzhou beat him to the punch.

Chi Zhongqiao stretched languidly and chuckled. “Since there’s nothing to coordinate today or tomorrow, I’ll head back now.”

Du Yusheng sensed an unspoken meaning in Chi Zhongqiao’s words, but before he could decipher it, Chi Zhongqiao had already left.

Du Yusheng stroked his chin and called out loudly, “The official account will release new promotional images tonight!”

He received no response, unsure whether Chi Zhongqiao had even heard him.

Although <The Patriot> has only one male lead, as an ensemble drama, its so-called supporting characters are essentially co-leads, and the cast includes many well-known actors in the industry.

To whet the audience’s appetite, the individual promotional posters released in recent days featured the co-leads, sending fans into a frenzy. <The Patriot>’s costumes, makeup, and props were impeccable, perfectly capturing each character’s essence.

When Ye Hang and Jing Xi’s posters were released, fans collectively transformed into groundhogs, popping up everywhere to express their excitement.

Jing Xi’s portrayal of the Crown Princess was gentle and dignified, yet a lingering melancholy seemed to cling to her brow, making viewers yearn to soothe the faint furrow between her eyes.

Ye Hang’s appearance as a young noble scion, the beloved heir apparent, radiated youthful exuberance and warmth, his eyes brimming with laughter and joy.

As the posters for other main actors were gradually released, Chi Zhongqiao’s He Yu remained conspicuously absent. Fans grew increasingly impatient, flooding the official social media accounts daily with demands for his poster. This eventually evolved into a daily ritual, with fans posting the same humble inquiry: “Humbly asking, has my Qiao Bao’s poster been released yet?”

Within days, this became a running joke, even drawing in fans of other actors. The official account’s comments section became a harmonious space, mirroring the camaraderie within the production team itself.

Today, the official account would release Chi Zhongqiao’s individual character poster.

Since <The Patriot> wasn’t an adaptation of an existing IP, fans had no source material to reference. They could only speculate about Chi Zhongqiao’s appearance based on the character description.

“Marquis Jingyuan… would he wear full iron armor like the Young General? Or would he be a wealthy nobleman with the refined elegance of Shang Tang?”

At 6 PM, the official account of <The Patriot> unveiled Chi Zhongqiao’s poster.

He was draped in a black cloak, yet his figure seemed carved from white jade. Perched atop a magnificent steed, he casually twirled a riding crop in his hand, casting a commanding gaze downward.

The profound coldness in his eyes instantly overwhelmed viewers.

He was neither the Young General nor Shang Tang—he was He Yu, Marquis Jingyuan.

For the first two minutes after the image was posted, not a single comment appeared. Then, as if a colony of groundhogs had suddenly burrowed beneath the post, the comment section erupted. Scrolling down several pages revealed nothing but endless strings of “Ahhhhh!”

Within the first hour of its release, Chi Zhongqiao’s promotional poster, along with the earlier poster for <The Cage>, had already topped the trending searches.

[#My mom asked me, “Is this really the same person?” (laughing-crying emoji)#]

It started when one of Chi Zhongqiao’s fans screamed at the newly released promotional image, her wolf-like howl attracting her mother. After receiving a scolding from her mother, the fan accidentally zoomed in on the image on her phone. One glance was all it took for her mother to become instantly hooked.

In just a few minutes, the fan’s mother had once again proven humanity’s true nature: The “zhenxiang” phenomenon—the irresistible allure of something initially rejected.

This relatable scenario resonated with the public, quickly propelling the topic into the trending search queue. Du Yusheng fanned the flames, and the search term surged to the top of the charts, soon securing a spot in the top ranks.

Those drawn in by the trending headline were immediately captivated by the striking image. Like the fan’s mother, they all asked the same question: “Mom, is this really the same person?”

In <The Cage>, the Dragon retained the haughty demeanor of a divine creature. Yet, having been imprisoned in a secret chamber since hatching, his eyes radiated more deathly stillness than divine brilliance. Even when a flicker of emotion stirred within them, it was merely the spark of resentment.

He Yu, however, was different. Though not of royal lineage, his birth was exceptionally noble. His Father was Marquis Jingyuan, and his Mother was a Princess. Raised like the moon surrounded by adoring stars, his gaze carried a hint of indolent arrogance.

They shared the same face, yet the mere change of clothes and makeup—not even the extreme “face-swap” transformations seen online—made viewers instinctively perceive them as different actors.

Dragon was the Dragon, and He Yu was He Yu.

“Seriously impressive. The soul of these two images isn’t in the costumes, makeup, or background, but in the person himself.”

“I’m not a fan, but I’ve watched a few dramas Chi Zhongqiao starred in, and his eye acting is truly exceptional. In the He Yu photo, I genuinely felt like he was about to speak.”

“He looks so gentle in real life, yet he’s incredibly alpha when acting. Mu Yan, the Campus Prince and Shang Tang, was absolutely alpha as hell!”

“He’s so swoon-worthy! Aaaah!”

“Marquis, punish me! Waaah!”

“Sisters above, calm down!”

After releasing Chi Zhongqiao’s individual poster, the official account seemed to have unlocked its full potential, like an elderly person suddenly regaining their agility. They began releasing promotional videos in rapid succession.

The videos showcased the exquisite costumes, makeup, and props, as well as the actors’ masterful performances. The stirring background music, evoking the grandeur of mountains, rivers, and the nation’s fate, lifted a corner of the vast drama world, allowing viewers a glimpse into its epic scale.

As the glorious era teetered on the brink of collapse, strategists emerged in droves, some vying for power in the imperial court, others battling across the desert sands, and still others striving to advance agriculture and benefit the people. All faced death as if it were a homecoming, resolutely upholding the vast empire.

Hence the drama’s title: <The Patriot>.

Only when the promotional trailer was released did eager fans finally grasp the official statement, “A sweeping epic to save the nation.”

The brief trailer captivated viewers, sending them into an endless loop. It was widely shared across video platforms, amassing staggering views that continued to climb. The trailer spread like wildfire, appearing on websites around the globe.

Every star had fans abroad, but Chi Zhongqiao, with his string of internationally successful films and dramas, boasted a particularly large overseas following. These fans initially formed the core audience for the trailer.

Many foreigners struggled to understand historical dramas, but this didn’t diminish their appreciation for the visuals or prevent them from feeling the trailer’s emotional impact.

The pounding drumbeats in the trailer nearly set viewers’ blood boiling.

Amid unprecedented global attention, the first episode of <The Patriot> aired.

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 🙂