Quick Transmigration: The Beautiful Host Wants to Have Both Love and Career

"In 1994, when Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 collided with Jupiter, humanity witnessed the first-ever collision of celestial bodies in the solar system."

His gaze fell on the simulated Jupiter projection on the dome. "You know what? The scars from those impacts are bigger than the Earth."

Sui Si's throat suddenly tightened.

He recalled the dying monologue in the script that had been revised repeatedly, and the tears in the protagonist's eyes as he breathed his last.

Looking at the burning planet projected onto the dome, all those eloquent words suddenly seemed pale and powerless.

Love is like that too.

Jun Sui suddenly turned to look at him, his amber eyes reflecting the simulated starlight.

"Like celestial bodies colliding, it needs no dialogue, no storyboards, just the most instinctive approach of two souls."

His thumb unconsciously rubbed against the back of Sui Si's hand, "Just like now."

They slowly ascended the spiral corridor, their footsteps barely making a sound on the carpet.

As they passed the planetary exhibit area, Sui Si suddenly stopped:

"What if... what if the protagonist didn't die, but instead understood love at the last moment, like a planet finding its orbit?"

Jun Sui smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair.

"Has the screenwriter finally figured it out?"

He pointed to the starry sky cinema ahead, "Go in and take a look. Perhaps the real inspiration lies hidden in the vastness that transcends human language."

As the lights in the dome went out completely and the Milky Way poured down overhead, Sui Si felt Jun Sui's hand quietly cover his.

In the darkness, the two heartbeats gradually overlapped with the pulse of the universe. The unfinished script and the unspoken confession found their answers in this artificial starry sky.

They continued walking forward.

At the end of a spiral corridor, the Nebula exhibit glowed with a deep blue light, and Sui Si's steps were suddenly caught by a giant photograph.

That's an image of a nebula captured by the Hubble Space Telescope.

In the center of the image, a dying star is emitting its last rays of light.

The orange-red glow, like torn silk, bloomed with breathtaking beauty against the deep backdrop of the universe.

"Doesn't this resemble that scene in your script? The final, magnificent moment of life."

Jun Sui's voice rang in my ears, carrying a kind of indescribable tenderness.

His slender fingers gently touched the glass of the photograph, the reflection of his fingertips overlapping with the light of the stars.

"Is this the image reflected in the protagonist's pupils when they take their last breath?"

Sui Si's Adam's apple bobbed.

Against a deep blue background, the light from the star's explosion was like shattered glass, each line striking his heart with precision.

This scene did indeed repeatedly appear on countless manuscripts late at night.

As the protagonist lay in a pool of blood, his consciousness fading, a dazzling light suddenly exploded before his eyes, as if the universe were being reborn in his pupils.

He instinctively reached for his backpack, wanting to take out his notebook to jot down the inspiration of the moment, but his wrist was suddenly pressed down by a warm palm.

"Finish reading first."

Jun Sui's thumb gently caressed his wrist bone, the aroma of cedar and coffee mingling with his warm breath as it brushed against his neck.

"Some beauty needs to be fully appreciated."

The cool air in the dome-shaped screening room carried the scent of stars and the sea of ​​stars.

The moment the lights went out, Sui Si felt the seat sink slightly, and Jun Sui's body moved closer.

The dome above his head lit up, and the incandescent white halo of the Big Bang instantly filled his vision. He could hear his own heart pounding in his chest, mingling with the film's narration.

In the darkness, a hand quietly covered his hand that was resting on the armrest of the seat.

First came the tentative touch of fingertips, like a shooting star streaking across the night sky, followed by the gentle envelopment of the entire palm.

Sui Si tensed up, feeling Jun Sui's thumb lightly tapping the back of his hand, the rhythm gradually coinciding with his disordered heartbeat.

When the scene shifts to the moment of the supernova explosion, the entire dome is dyed a breathtaking red.

Broken stellar material splashes in the vacuum, each grain of dust trailing a long tail of light, as if the universe is roaring silently.

Sui Si's breath caught in his throat. Just then, a warm breath brushed against his ear, and Jun Sui's lips almost touched his burning earlobe:

"The protagonist's monologue can be like starlight—traveling billions of light-years just so you can see my last ray of light."

These words struck Sui Si like an electric current.

He turned his head sharply, his nose almost brushing against Jun Sui's cheek, the two so close that they could see the shadow cast by each other's eyelashes.

In the darkness, Jun Sui's eyes shone with an astonishing light, the fragments of light from the Milky Way flowing in his pupils, as if they truly contained the entire universe.

"You peeked at my script?"

Sui Si's voice trembled involuntarily, carrying a sense of grievance that he himself was unaware of.

Those lines that were repeatedly pondered late at night, those hidden emotions behind the words—had they already been seen through by the other person?

Jun Sui chuckled softly, his warm breath brushing against his eyelashes, creating subtle ripples in the darkness.

"I just know you."

His thumb gently pressed on the pulse point on the back of Sui Si's hand, feeling the rapid beating.

"You always say that lines can't capture the soul, but when you wrote about the protagonist gazing at the starry sky and shedding tears, your pen paused on the paper for three seconds—those three seconds of blank space were more moving than any flowery language."

Sui Si's throat tightened.

Those late nights spent struggling alone with manuscript paper suddenly came to mind, eraser shavings covering the table, the 17th version of the storyboard crumpled and unfolded again.

It turns out that all the entanglements and struggles could not escape the eyes of the person in front of you.

Do you know why I brought you here?

Jun Sui's voice lowered, becoming a seductive, hoarse tone.

"Because the universe never lies."

The brilliance of a dying star and the tremor of a human heartbeat are, in essence, bursts of the purest energy.

His fingers slipped between Sui Si's fingers, and the moment their fingers intertwined, Sui Si felt the thin calluses on the other's palm gently brush against his skin.

"Like right now, my heartbeat and the frequency of a supernova explosion might be in the same language."

The scene on the dome has changed to a tranquil nebula, but in Sui Si's world, only the person in front of him remains.

The lines, emotional tone, and character motivations that had troubled him for so long suddenly became clear at this moment.

Love is not a meticulously crafted script, but rather the radiance that naturally bursts forth when two souls meet in the vast universe.

"Jun Sui..."

He had barely opened his mouth when the other person gently pressed his index finger against his lips.

In the darkness, Jun Sui's eyes curved into gentle crescents, his thumb lightly stroking his lower lip:

"Shh, the universe is eavesdropping on our story."

When the lights in the dome-shaped screening room came on, Sui Si was still immersed in the shock brought by the cosmic images and Jun Sui.

When Jun Sui got up, he brought with him a faint scent of cedar. He naturally took Sui Si's hand, as if it were a gesture he had repeated a thousand times.

The two walked through the gradually dispersing crowd. The sunlight outside the glass dome suddenly became dazzling. Sui Si subconsciously squinted, but Jun Sui gently blocked the light in front of his forehead with his palm.

The breeze from the terrace, carrying the heat of summer, rushed towards them. Jun let go of her hand and walked to the railing, the hem of her clothes fluttering in the wind.

Looking at his tall, straight back, Sui Si suddenly thought of those male protagonists in scripts who could never be filmed with a soul.

It turns out that truly moving scenes never need a lighting technician to carefully arrange the light and shadow.

"Are you hungry?"

When Jun Sui turned around, a familiar, gentle smile graced his lips.

Before he could answer, the other person had magically pulled two croissants out of their pocket, the wrapping paper still warm.

"I deliberately went out of my way to buy it because the butter from that shop is molten when it's freshly baked."

As he spoke, he pulled out a silver thermos. The moment he unscrewed the lid, a rich aroma of hot cocoa mixed with the scent of cinnamon wafted out.

The moment Sui Si's fingers touched the thermos, her nose suddenly stung.

This familiar taste was his most loyal companion during countless late nights writing articles.

Whenever he runs out of inspiration, he curls up on the sofa in his studio, holding a mug and watching the morning mist slowly drift across the street outside the window.