Deeply Affectionate Male Supporting Character Topped the Protagonist 11

Chapter 11: “Woof”

At the booth, Han You, bearing the incredibly embarrassing slap mark, left in a huff.

Luo Jiayan, who had acted impulsively just now, felt a wave of fear as he thought back. He couldn’t afford to offend the Han family and didn’t know how to resolve the situation.

“Right… Ah Zhao?”

Remembering Xi Leng, Luo Jiayan snapped back to reality, but he couldn’t find Xi Leng anywhere. Anxious, he spun around in the crowded dance floor, like a headless fly.

Qiao Yusen had also lost his companion. A message popped up on his phone.

Min Zhi: 【Don’t forget what I said earlier】

Probably asking him to deal with Han You.

Qiao Yusen clicked his tongue, his fox-like eyes, even when troubled, held a smile, a hint of slyness. He shook his head, the thin gold chain gently brushing against his cheek, his elegant leather shoes stepping forward, intending to go downstairs to check on the situation.

The night was deepening. Qiao Yusen walked to the entrance and looked out, searching for Han You.

Luo Jiayan ran into him while coming downstairs to look for someone, his hurried steps coming to an abrupt halt: “…Qiao… Qiao-laoshi?”

“Didn’t I tell you, just call me Jackson.” Qiao Yusen smiled back. “Otherwise, I’ll have to call you Luo-laoshi.”

Luo Jiayan pursed his lips shyly, giving a reserved “Mm-hmm,” then said: “Thank you for the gift.”

“You’re welcome.” In front of the young man he hadn’t yet considered as prey, Qiao Yusen was the picture of a refined gentleman, his glasses adding to his gentle and noble demeanor.

He then turned his gaze to the door, casually asking: “By the way, that person was the young master of the Han family, right?”

Luo Jiayan’s expression turned troubled: “Ah, yes…”

Qiao Yusen, graceful and composed, comforted him subtly: “Mm-hmm, you go back first. I’ll handle it.”

He was naturally someone who disliked trouble. Carrying out Min Zhi’s instructions was entirely out of their friendship and respect for Min Zhi’s family background. However, being able to do a favor for the young man while dealing with the trouble wasn’t bad.

Luo Jiayan didn’t understand the intricacies of the situation, only thinking that Qiao Yusen was standing up for him. His beautiful almond eyes instantly reddened further, his voice thick with a nasal tone: “But…”

“No buts.” Qiao Yusen interrupted with a gentle smile. “Do you need me to call you a taxi? Or do you need me to take you home?”

“No, no!!” Luo Jiayan jumped back like a startled rabbit, forced to accept the favor. “Then… then I’ll be going now, thank you…”

Qiao Yusen watched him leave with a smile, lazily crossing his arms, leaning against the entrance.

The advantages of not being a celebrity were evident now.

After waiting for only ten minutes, he didn’t see Xi Leng coming downstairs, but he did see Han You returning. Sure enough, he had brought a few burly helpers, preparing to teach Xi Leng a lesson in the crudest way.

But the moment the aggressive Han You saw the smiling Qiao Yusen, he instantly cowered.

They were all in the same second-generation circle and had some impression of each other’s faces and backgrounds. He absolutely couldn’t afford to offend the young master of the Qiao family.

Qiao Yusen raised an eyebrow, asking indifferently: “What are you doing?”

Han You, feeling guilty, stammered: “Noth… nothing.”

“Then keep me company?” Qiao Yusen said with a smile. “Look how drunk you are, can you still drink?”

Despite his reluctance, Han You could only gesture for the burly men to sit around the table. The group of thugs, inexplicably, started playing a drinking game with Young Master Qiao.

Qiao Yusen, with a smile on his face throughout, was unexpectedly ruthless when playing games, making Han You and his group cry and beg, unable to leave.

“…Hallucination?”

At the end of the bar corridor on the second floor, Xi Leng held his forehead, muttering to himself.

Reborn after death with a healthy body, but his mental state had worsened.

Although Min Zhi shouldn’t appear in his hallucinations, after being abnormal for so long, he had a strong tolerance for all kinds of oddities.

He didn’t dwell on it and pushed open the glass door, stepping onto the rain-soaked terrace.

It was a heavy rainy night, rain and wind rushing towards his face, mixed with the smell of earth and vegetation.

The rain drew a clear dividing line on the terrace. The darker side was dotted with raindrops, while the lighter side remained dry, a small square space sheltered by the eaves.

Xi Leng stood under the eaves, placing the sliced cream cake on the table beside him, his head lowered, stray strands of hair covering the side of his face.

He idly watched the rain, occasionally a few drops leaping across the dividing line, splashing onto his shoes.

He wasn’t sure if Han You would stop him from leaving. He had nothing urgent to do anyway, he could wait until the bar closed. But the bar was too noisy, giving him a headache. It was better to come out for some fresh air and rain.

Min Zhi only emerged from the dusty storage room after Xi Leng disappeared behind the glass door.

The lightning had stopped, the corridor dimly lit, visibility very low.

Running his hands through his short hair, revealing his smooth forehead, Min Zhi let out a long breath.

It was utterly baffling.

What was he doing? Chasing after… and then avoiding?

As if to prove that he had a clear conscience, or perhaps driven by even more curiosity and inexplicable emotions, the person who had just hidden in the storage room stepped out again, walking resolutely towards the terrace door.

Through the misty glass, tilting his head slightly, he could see the young man’s profile in the distance.

His back was straight, but perhaps because of his long, curly hair, there was an inexplicable sense of melancholy about him.

Like broken porcelain, a poignant and incomplete beauty. If you reached out to touch it, you would be cut by the sharp edges.

Xi Leng was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt today, a long black ribbon around his neck, fluttering in the night breeze, draped over one shoulder.

He had nothing to do, so he took out his phone, using the fragmented time to study.

“Taking a photo together, asking him to hold the Polaroid, making a heart with the other hand… Impossible. Do I do magic tricks? Forget it… Asking him to help choose a hairstyle? That’s doable.”

Xi Leng stared at his phone, seemingly deeply troubled and conflicted.

Min Zhi hid in the corner, using the tip of his shoe to push the glass door open a crack, eavesdropping without any guilt.

Someone naturally lacking in social skills needed to do more homework when chasing stars, seizing every opportunity to learn.

“Do you know what my flaw is… What is it?”

Reviewing the collection of cheesy pick-up lines for fans, Xi Leng was silent for a few seconds, intrigued, but unable to utter the embarrassing “It’s you.”

“Guess my blood type…”
“Guess where I want to travel…”

Xi Leng scrolled faster and faster, not a single cheesy answer he could say out loud.

Min Zhi, who had previously been a singer releasing albums, had countless autograph sessions, and he knew all the answers to these cheesy lines by heart.

Your blood type is my ideal type. I want to travel to your heart.

Somehow, these cheesy lines coming from Xi Leng didn’t evoke any disgust in him. Perhaps it was because the speaker showed even stronger resistance than him? Practicing with a straight face, he gave up decisively after just a few minutes.

Min Zhi couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“You’re being called a simp, and you’re still in the mood to chase stars?”

A deep, cold voice came from behind him. Xi Leng wasn’t surprised; that glance earlier wasn’t a hallucination after all.

His muttering here was indeed out of boredom, but also partly deliberate. Now, it had unexpectedly paid off, further solidifying his fan persona.

Xi Leng chuckled softly, asking nonchalantly: “You heard that?”

Min Zhi’s dark eyes slid from the swaying end of the ribbon to the fair neck, his gaze darkening, his curiosity intensifying, almost uncontrollable, such as what was hidden beneath the ribbon on his neck…

But Xi Leng’s sense of distance and wariness still lingered. Min Zhi could only ask first: “…Aren’t you angry?”

Perhaps because of the alcohol, Xi Leng was smiling a lot tonight, making his usually aloof demeanor seem unreal. Like the summer rain behind him, with two sides, muggy to breathe, but cold and wet when it touched your skin.

Xi Leng generously gave another smile as an answer to the question.

Just as he was about to turn around and leave, he saw Min Zhi extending a hand in his peripheral vision, its bones distinct, particularly pale in the night.

A Marlboro Black Ice Blast between his fingers.

A familiar cigarette, perfect for summer, a refreshing sight.

“Thank you, Min-shen.”

Xi Leng took the cigarette, not forgetting to thank his idol.

Min Zhi then offered a light. Xi Leng lowered his head, one hand holding back the long, curly hair by his ear, the orange-red flame illuminating his fair face, the faint blue blood vessels beneath almost visible.

The cigarette was lit in two seconds, and he stepped back in the third.

Min Zhi felt inexplicably wistful, staring at the white smoke by Xi Leng’s lips.

However, Xi Leng seemed to be in a good mood. After a few puffs, he began to answer the question he had just brushed off.

“What’s wrong with being a simp?”

He took the cigarette from his mouth and held it between two fingers, his other hand raised, four fingers together, the space between his thumb and index finger half-open.

If a flash of lightning projected this gesture onto the wall, it would look like a small puppy’s head with its mouth open.

He sighed softly, his voice a little hoarse from the alcohol: “…Puppies are so cute.”

The ends of his phoenix eyes lifted slightly, a faint blush like rouge carelessly smeared there.

At this moment, the fingers that had formed a dog’s mouth suddenly closed, his slightly red lips moving—

“Woof.”

Min Zhi froze.

The sound of rain filled his ears, the humid air heavy and restless, like a landslide and tsunami, and for a moment, he was drowning, sinking into the deep sea.

A long time passed.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, the erratic beating of his heart pulled him back to reality.

His dark eyes were unfocused, fixed on Xi Leng’s face, but Xi Leng had already moved on from the joke, quickly finishing his cigarette.

He didn’t forget the plate he had set aside and started eating the cake. Slowly and methodically.

The refreshing coolness of the mint beads probably still lingered in his mouth, and Min Zhi wondered what the combined taste of the sweet cream cake would be like.

Min Zhi watched him quietly.

This man couldn’t be described with simple words like beautiful or handsome, yet it made one rack their brains, trying to find the right words. As if only then could the tightness in his chest be relieved, exhaled freely, like a smoke ring.

Like Qiao Yusen’s “damn fine,” which he had scoffed at.

And at this moment, an even more absurd word popped into his mind.

—Cute.