IBKAWB Chapter 31

**Chapter 31: The Annual Drama Festival**

Re-translated by: Namizaki

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Though the fire in his heart burned fiercely, Lu Yuzhou dared not let it surface. Trapped within his organs, the searing heat made his heart and lungs ache.

He couldn’t bring himself to confess. Perhaps loving someone to the extreme naturally led to cherishing them to the same degree, making even his admiration feel presumptuous and inappropriate.

This was “his” Brother Qiao, not just anyone else.

Lu Yuzhou lowered his gaze, deliberately avoiding Chi Zhongqiao’s eyes. “En, I remember everything you said, Brother Qiao. After the New Year, you should switch Manager.”

With the year-end rush, both the company and its artists were swamped with work. Suddenly changing Managers would create a mountain of handover tasks, potentially disrupting Brother Qiao’s schedule.

Chi Zhongqiao tilted his head. “What about Yan Yiyun?”

Lu Yuzhou took a sip of water, his tone casual. “Since he’s so fond of managing Zhou Yunmo, let him focus on that. No one’s forcing him to take on more artists.”

Having made up his mind, Lu Yuzhou swiftly steered the conversation away. “Brother Qiao, are you definitely going home for the New Year this year?”

Chi Zhongqiao frowned at the mention of this. He grabbed a throw pillow, his worry genuine. “As a Son, and not some public official, staying away from home for years is too much. I’m going back this year.”

His inner turmoil ran deeper than his words suggested. After all, he wasn’t the original Chi Zhongqiao. How could he interact with the original’s parents while meticulously maintaining the character’s mannerisms?

It would be tough. Before transmigrating into the novel, Chi Zhongqiao hadn’t had time to study the original’s personality. He could get away with half-hearted interactions during the three or four times a year he saw them. And Old Master Lu, whom he’d only recently started spending more time with, wouldn’t be a problem. But fooling the original’s parents? That would be a real challenge.

Though Lu Yuzhou had anticipated this answer, hearing it still left him feeling disappointed.

Despite Chi Zhongqiao’s constant thoughts about returning home, he couldn’t bear to see Lu Yuzhou worrying alongside him. He quickly changed the subject, diverting Lu Yuzhou’s attention to the upcoming Annual Drama Festival.

Lu Yuzhou’s heart softened. He followed Chi Zhongqiao’s lead, letting the conversation drift away from the sensitive topic.

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Amidst the eager anticipation of artists and fans alike, the Annual Drama Festival finally commenced.

Lu Group was one of the sponsors, and Lu Yuzhou, leveraging his position for personal gain, secured an entry slot to represent the Lu Group at the event.

Unfortunately, Chi Zhongqiao had to enter with the <Empress of the World> cast, forcing the two to part ways after exiting the car.

Lu Yuzhou pulled up Chi Zhongqiao’s coat collar and whispered, “Brother Qiao, you’re dressed lightly today. Remember to put on your coat when you come out.”

Chi Zhongqiao was wearing a custom-tailored white suit, which was gifted by Lu Yuzhou, his hair soft and tousled.

In men’s formal wear, creativity is limited by convention. Lu Yuzhou’s suit was impeccably tailored but otherwise unadorned—a classic, understated style.

Yet the stark white fabric accentuated Chi Zhongqiao’s striking features, making him resemble a young prince untouched by the world’s harsh realities.

However, such elegance came at a price: The thin suit offered little insulation against the cold.

Chi Zhongqiao had several heat packs pasted to his body, radiating warmth. He waved dismissively. “I won’t get cold. I’ve got plenty of heat packs, and the hall is air-conditioned. Go on, don’t keep the host waiting.”

Lu Yuzhou glanced back repeatedly before reluctantly following the host.

Guo Ancheng leaned closer. “This is a first. I’ve never seen Yuzhou being so considerate before.”

Chi Zhongqiao, in high spirits, subtly wagged his nonexistent tail. “En, Yuzhou’s growing up.”

What’s with your smugness? Did I even praise you?

Guo Ancheng rolled his eyes and huffed as he strode ahead.

For Guo Ancheng, whether <Empress of the World> won any awards or not, it was already the most successful drama of his career. He was perfectly content with his current situation. At his age, he wasn’t chasing directorial fame anymore; making TV dramas was purely for enjoyment. He didn’t give a second thought to the future.

The <Empress of the World> crew soon gathered.

Chi Zhongqiao spotted Xu Xingzhou from afar, radiating confidence. He trailed behind Guo Ancheng, reluctant to face Xu Xingzhou directly.

Fortunately, Xu Xingzhou was completely absorbed in thoughts of the awards ceremony, barely noticing Chi Zhongqiao.

Xu Xingzhou had been nominated for Best Actor and Most Popular Male Actor, and he remained in a state of nervous excitement until the winners were announced.

Yan Cheng, towering in her sky-high heels, completely ignored Xu Xingzhou and cheerfully looped her arm through Chi Zhongqiao’s.

“Sister Yan,” Chi Zhongqiao said, “you can’t drag me along on the red carpet later.”

If Xu Xingzhou weren’t here, Chi Zhongqiao wouldn’t mind being her male companion. But with Xu Xingzhou standing right beside them, Yan Cheng, as the female lead, abandoning him to be with Chi Zhongqiao would be a media frenzy waiting to happen.

Yan Cheng whispered to him, “I know, I just wanted to talk to you—look at Xu Xingzhou.”

Chi Zhongqiao tilted his head, his gaze landing on Xu Xingzhou.

Yan Cheng murmured, “Look at his outfit. He must have spent a fortune on it. Does he really think he has a chance at Best Actor?”

She pursed her lips as she continued to mutter, “With his acting skills? He can only dream.”

While <Empress of the World> was this year’s blockbuster drama, Xu Xingzhou wasn’t. The two dark horses who had risen to prominence this year were Chi Zhongqiao, standing right there, and Shao Zong, the male lead of a niche, realistic drama. Though the drama’s viewership was modest, its critical acclaim was high, and Shao Zong’s acting skills far surpassed those of the male leads in this year’s other dramas.

Moreover, Shao Zong’s drama had a more prestigious theme than <Empress of the World>. Despite its lower viewership, it stood a much better chance of winning awards.

Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor were not comparable honors. Xu Xingzhou’s hopes… were likely to be dashed.

Chi Zhongqiao was lost in thought, his gaze distant and unfocused. As he shuffled forward with the rest of the cast, a question suddenly struck him: How did he remember Xu Xingzhou winning Best Actor in the original novel? Or was he misremembering?

But Chi Zhongqiao had little time to dwell on this—they were entering the venue.

The Annual Drama Festival reviewed all television dramas from the year, selecting those that met the criteria for nomination and sending invitations to the nominees. Until the awards were announced, only the judges knew the results.

Especially the nominees themselves received no “insider information” whatsoever.

Chi Zhongqiao sat in his designated area, craning his neck to look around for Lu Yuzhou. The venue was vast, packed with heads. As a sponsor, Lu Yuzhou should be seated in the front rows, while Chi Zhongqiao was in the middle-rear section. Through the sea of heads, he spotted a familiar silhouette.

Guo Ancheng whispered, “What are you looking at?”

Chi Zhongqiao shook his head. “Nothing. It’s about to start.”

The Annual Drama Festival was broadcast live. Regardless of the anxiety or impatience simmering within, everyone forced themselves to adopt their most appropriate expressions, presenting their carefully crafted public personas to the cameras.

To Chi Zhongqiao’s left sat Guo Ancheng, and to his right was Yan Cheng. Xu Xingzhou was seated further to the right.

This was Yan Cheng’s first nomination for both Best Actress and Most Popular Actress awards, but she knew in her heart that winning Best Actress was unlikely.

As the saying goes, <Empress of the World> was a small-scale drama. The grand themes of national loyalty and personal vendettas were primarily focused on Chi Zhongqiao. To put it bluntly, while the series had become a massive hit, its artistic merit was lacking, making award recognition difficult.

Yan Cheng leaned closer, her eyes pleading. “Brother Qiao.”

Chi Zhongqiao lowered his head. “Hmm?”

Yan Cheng whispered, “I’ve given up on Best Actress. Do you think I have a chance at Most Popular Actress?”

Chi Zhongqiao lowered his voice as well. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d say it’s pretty much in the bag.”

In the original novel, <Empress of the World> was only a minor plot point—merely Lu Yuzhou’s first comeback success. Chi Zhongqiao vaguely remembered the series winning a few awards, but he couldn’t recall the specific categories.

However, the Most Popular Actress award was determined by online and live audience votes, and Yan Cheng was by far the most popular nominee this year. The award was practically hers already.

Yan Cheng asked, “Aren’t you nervous at all?”

Chi Zhongqiao smiled at her. “Not at all.”

Don’t force things. Fame and fortune can be dangerous.

Yan Cheng clasped her hands in a gesture of respect. “I’m impressed.”

Chi Zhongqiao smiled and turned away, unaware that Lu Yuzhou, seated in the front row, had suddenly turned around. Chi Zhongqiao’s eyes lit up, but mindful of the cameras nearby, he could only offer Lu Yuzhou a brief smile.

Beneath his icy glasses, Lu Yuzhou’s eyes revealed a distinct smile. He waited until Chi Zhongqiao looked away before turning back around.

“Someone President Lu knows is in the back?” The General Manager of a neighboring company asked curiously.

The smile in Lu Yuzhou’s eyes had faded, his expression returning to its usual coldness. Responding to the Manager’s curiosity, he simply said, “Yes, my Brother is in the back.”

The Manager froze. Young Master Lu Zhuo is in the back?

He frantically twisted his head to look, but saw nothing.

Lu Yuzhou lowered his gaze to the list in his hand. I only said my Brother, not Lu Zhuo.

The Annual Drama Festival awards ceremony featured numerous categories, with the smaller awards announced first. The prestigious Best Actor and Best Actress awards were the main event, reserved for the end.

This year’s female host was Qian Ning, a veteran of the hosting world, paired with Hu Zhenyu, the King of variety shows.

In previous years, the festival had drawn a star-studded crowd of nominees, including A-list actors and top-tier celebrities. However, due to the recent decline in television drama quality, this year’s nominees were primarily second- and third-tier actors and newcomers, falling far short of the usual fanfare. Viewers watching the live broadcast and on television seemed somewhat unenthusiastic.

Yet for the nominees present at the ceremony, their anticipation and nervousness were no less intense than those of their predecessors.

When the award for Most Popular Actress was announced, Yan Cheng’s breathing hitched with anxiety. She had always been realistic about her chances; she knew the Best Actress award was unlikely to go to her, so she had pinned all her hopes on the Most Popular Actress award.

As the hosts announced the previous award and began their transitional banter, Yan Cheng felt her breath catch in her throat.

She quickly reached out. “Hurry, Brother Qiao, give me a sip!”

Chi Zhongqiao leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. He glanced at Yan Cheng beside him, who was so tense she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, and handed her his unopened water bottle. “With the blessing of the European Emperor,” he said gently, “there’s nothing to fear.”

In Chi Zhongqiao’s view, Yan Cheng’s victory for the Most Popular Actress award was practically guaranteed, so there was no need for her to be so nervous.

Yan Cheng clutched the water bottle with both hands, staring straight ahead and muttering under her breath, “Brother Qiao, bless me… Brother Qiao, bless me…”

Her words were so rapid and mumbled that even Chi Zhongqiao beside her couldn’t make them out.

After straining his ears for a moment, Chi Zhongqiao finally understood what she was mumbling about. He paused, speechless, then thought to himself: Fine, whatever makes you feel better.

Meanwhile, the host had finished the transition speech and was now building suspense.

Yan Cheng looked utterly miserable.

But before she could whine or complain, the camera had already swung her way. She quickly composed herself, forcing a proper smile.

Chi Zhongqiao’s expression remained unchanged throughout. No matter when the camera turned to him, it captured only his serene and composed demeanor.

His composure was remarkably uncharacteristic for a newcomer.

The host suddenly announced in a booming voice, “The winner of this year’s Most Popular Actress award is—Yan Cheng!”

Yan Cheng’s grip loosened, and the water bottle nearly slipped from her hands.

Chi Zhongqiao cleared his throat softly—the bottle was full of water, and dropping it would definitely make a loud splash. With most of the cameras in the hall focused on Yan Cheng, a fall now would be a moment for the history books, trending online as soon as the live broadcast ended.

Yan Cheng snapped out of her daze and quickly tightened her grip on the water bottle. She exchanged a panicked glance with Chi Zhongqiao, her back drenched in cold sweat—thank goodness Brother Qiao had warned her, or she would have made a complete fool of herself.

Chi Zhongqiao smiled indulgently: The poor girl must be terribly nervous, winning her first award with no one to comfort her.

“Keep daydreaming, and that award will slip right through your fingers.” He whispered.

The near-disaster had surprisingly calmed Yan Cheng. She set down the bottle and stood up.

Xu Xingzhou felt a pang of envy before stepping aside to make way for her.

Yan Cheng took a deep breath, gathered her skirt, and walked toward the awards stage.

Below, Xu Xingzhou clenched his fists tightly. The announcement for the Most Popular Male Actor award would follow Yan Cheng’s. His anxiety was no less than hers.

Moreover, he had debuted earlier than Yan Cheng but had yet to win a single award. <Empress of the World> was the most successful drama he had starred in. Although he had since landed a new role in a production with better resources and a stronger cast than <Empress of the World> had at the start, breaking through the competition would be far more challenging next year.

The entire entertainment industry had been in a slump all year, but things were set to change after the new year. Several highly anticipated dramas were scheduled to premiere. Xu Xingzhou’s idol drama, however, barely registered amidst the hype, like a minor casualty in a battlefield of titans.

In contrast, Chi Zhongqiao had already secured a heavyweight script like <Invisible Crime>, placing him among the elite even in this fiercely competitive arena.

Xu Xingzhou, meanwhile, had only an unfilmed idol drama to his name. He knew that winning awards would significantly boost his market value, and he hoped to gild himself with glory at the Annual Drama Festival, thereby securing more prestigious and critically acclaimed roles.

Xu Xingzhou aimed to win both the Most Popular Male Actor and Best Actor awards.

Chi Zhongqiao, unaware of Xu Xingzhou’s ambitions, watched Yan Cheng descend from the stage after delivering her acceptance speech, clutching her trophy.

Smiling, Chi Zhongqiao leaned in and whispered, “Happy?”

Yan Cheng hugged her trophy, her face radiant with joy, and nodded vigorously. “So happy! Just winning this one award makes coming here worth it. Brother Qiao, you’re my lucky star!”

Chi Zhongqiao chuckled. “You earned this yourself. It has nothing to do with me.”

Yan Cheng simply smiled.

Her acting skills had improved dramatically during the filming of <Empress of the World>. She knew exactly how this transformation had come about.

If Chi Zhongqiao hadn’t taken the time to teach her how to portray her character, she would never have touched this trophy.

Immediately after Yan Cheng’s award, the Most Popular Male Actor award was announced, going to Xu Xingzhou.

Chi Zhongqiao clearly noticed Xu Xingzhou letting out a long sigh of relief as the host announced his name before rising to accept the award.

Yan Cheng quietly tugged at Chi Zhongqiao’s sleeve. “Brother Qiao, he’s coming down. Best Supporting Actor is next.”

Chi Zhongqiao nodded. “I know.”

Seeing Yan Cheng’s nervous expression, he couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry. Just stay calm.”

Yan Cheng rolled her eyes. “…You’re the luckiest guy here. You’re probably right.”

The two hosts below had already begun announcing the nominees for Best Supporting Actor: “…Deng Pei, Chi Zhongqiao, Zhou Jing. So, who will take home the award?”

The cameras focused on the male stars. Deng Pei and Zhou Jing both smiled at the camera.

But Chi Zhongqiao’s attention was suddenly diverted by Lu Yuzhou, who had turned to look at him. Though he knew the camera was on him, he couldn’t help but smile back at Lu Yuzhou.

Chi Zhongqiao remained carefree, neither anticipating nor feeling anxious, his mind solely occupied with his happiness for Lu Yuzhou.

Lu Yuzhou’s heart softened at Chi Zhongqiao’s smile. What a carefree guy, he thought helplessly. Here I am, worrying my head off, while he’s completely unfazed, even finding time to grin at me like an idiot.

Lu Yuzhou shook his head.

Chi Zhongqiao blinked, about to look away, when the host, Qian Ning, suddenly called out from below, “Let’s get a quick interview with Chi Zhongqiao! The winner’s name is about to be announced. If you’re not watching me, who are you looking at?”

Caught daydreaming, Chi Zhongqiao was speechless. Why does every little thing I do get caught on camera? Where’s my supposed lucky streak?