Transmigrating into a novel as a supporting female character: all for the sake of seducing the secon

Yunxia stared at the stubborn light in his eyes, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed by something, both sour and numb.

The Zhou Chiye before me was completely unfamiliar.

The Zhou Chiye she knew was a playboy who dared to raise his eyebrows and smile at the camera at award ceremonies, a player who would sing love songs with a guitar at gatherings but never say he was serious, and a carefree person who would simply say "friend" when paparazzi photographed him entering and leaving bars with different female companions.

He's like a gust of wind, impossible to grasp, and never likes to linger.

“You…” Yunxia opened her mouth, but her throat suddenly tightened. “Don’t do this.”

"Do you know what you're saying? Zhou Chiye, you're the kind of person who's too lazy to even date, saying that falling in love is the most troublesome thing."

At that time, she still felt that this was Zhou Chiye, clear-headed yet cold-hearted.

But now, this man is standing right in front of her, saying he wants to bring their hidden relationship into the light, and that he wants to stay with her.

“Yes, I did say that before.” His voice became even hoarseer: “But I hadn’t met you before.”

"So what if you met me?" Her voice trembled, but she stubbornly insisted, "Just because you met me, you're going to break all the old rules? Zhou Chiye, you're not that kind of person."

“People change.” He lowered his head, his forehead almost touching hers, his hot breath falling on her face: “After meeting you, I realized that all those rules I had before were just because I hadn’t met someone willing to break them.”

“By stopping here, you’re putting me on the spot and blocking your own path. Zhou Chiye, your fans have been chasing you for so many years, and your team has taken care of so many things for you. You can’t just abandon them like that.”

"Let's leave it at that. Don't look for me anymore," Yunxia said, enunciating each word clearly.

After saying this, Yunxia didn't look into Zhou Chiye's eyes again. She suddenly turned to the side and squeezed through the gap between his arm and the wall, her steps as fast as if she were running away.

Her high heels clicked crisply and rapidly on the polished floor tiles, each step feeling like a blow to her heart. She dared not turn around, even though she knew the gaze behind her was incredibly scorching, almost burning a hole through her back.

"I'll put you on the fire to roast..." he repeated her words in a low voice.

He ran his fingertips through his hair and pressed hard on his throbbing temples: "Ke Yunxia, ​​you don't know, not seeing you is like throwing me into an ice cellar."

Zhou Chiye stood there for a long time until the sound of high heels completely disappeared at the end of the corridor before he suddenly turned around and slammed his back against the wall.

He reached into his pocket and, almost instinctively, pulled out a cigarette when his fingertips touched the edge of the cigarette pack.

The lighter clicked, and the orange flame licked the cigarette. He took a deep drag, the spiciness of the nicotine instantly burning his throat, but it didn't suppress the suffocating, aching feeling in his chest.

He slid down against the cold wall, stretching his long legs out and then curling them up, his hand holding the cigarette trembling slightly.

Smoke rings escaped from his lips, blurring the redness in his eyes.

He recalled the look in Yunxia's eyes when she said "it can't be a way of life," a look as cold as the autumn wind, scattering his words that he had laid bare under the sun.

"Bullshit about mutual benefit," he muttered, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping against wood.

Halfway through the cigarette, it burned his fingertips. Zhou Chiye snapped back to reality, stubbed out the cigarette on the edge of the trash can in the corner, and the sparks went out with a hiss.

My thoughts drifted back to more than two months ago.

That day was the music scene planning meeting for his new album. He was almost an hour late, and when he pushed open the door, the meeting room was completely silent.

Everyone was looking down, pretending to be busy, except for the woman next to the head of the table who was looking up at him with her chin raised, holding a marker in her hand. The cap was off, and the tip of the marker was hanging on the whiteboard, as if she had just been interrupted while writing.

She was Yunxia. He later learned that she was the one who spearheaded the entire scene planning.

Back then, she wasn't as cold as she is now. When he came in, she didn't act like others, either reserved or ingratiating. She just frowned slightly and said in a clear voice, "Teacher Zhou, our meeting was scheduled for 10:00, but it's 10:42 now."

At that time, he was riding high on the record-breaking pre-sales of his album, and he was a little arrogant. He was used to being fawned over, so when he heard this, he raised an eyebrow, sat down in an empty chair, and said casually, "There was a traffic jam on the way. I can't exactly fly here, can I?"

Anyone else would have already taken the opportunity to back down, but she stood there straight, pointed her marker at the whiteboard, and flipped over a large stack of proposals: "Traffic jams are an accident, but Teacher Zhou, these scene designs involve the schedules of three outdoor locations, as well as the lighting team's schedule. For every minute of delay, we need to prepare three more contingency plans for the follow-up."

She paused, looked up at him, her eyes showing no fear, but rather a straightforward drive: "I know you're busy, but since we're cooperating, we have to follow the rules. If you think our team's proposal is not good enough, tell us now, and we'll change it immediately."

"If you think my attitude was bad, you can say so, and I will apologize. But being late wastes everyone's time."

The conference room was so quiet you could hear the wind outside. His agent tried to smooth things over, but he suddenly smiled.

He suddenly laughed, not the casual raised-eyebrow laugh of before, but a laugh tinged with surprise and a hint of being struck by a truth.

“Okay.” He raised his hand to press his brow bone, got up and sat down in the empty seat next to her. “It was my fault for being late. Please continue.”

That day, she stood in front of the whiteboard and presented her plan. Her speech was as fast as if she were playing beads, yet it was detailed and clear. She even calculated the angle of the light at six o'clock in the evening at a certain outdoor location.

He stopped daydreaming and tapped his fingertips lightly under the table. As he listened, he found it much more interesting than dealing with those interviews.

Later, he did indeed get the urge to have some fun.

I felt that this girl was different from those roundabout people in the industry. She was like a wild rose with thorns, looking prickly, but very vibrant.

He had seen too much flattery and scheming, so her straightforwardness and impulsiveness were a breath of fresh air.

He invited her to dinner under the pretext of discussing the plan, deliberately teasing her and finding it amusing to watch her frown in anger while trying to remain calm.

One time, after a party, he waited for her in the parking lot. The evening breeze carried the scent of osmanthus blossoms. He leaned against his car, twirling his car keys, and smiled bluntly: "Yunxia, ​​what do you think of me? If you don't dislike me, why not give me a try? Just for... entertainment."

He had expected her to glare at him or call him a "lunatic".

But as she stood under the streetlight, her hair fluttering in the wind, she tilted her head and thought for a moment, then tugged at the corner of her lips, her eyes flashing with a similar nonchalant light to his: "Okay."

Her voice was crisp and clear, without the slightest hint of coyness: "Zhou, the big star, is good-looking. It's worth it to keep you company and help you pass the time."

Later, they did indeed get what they needed, just as agreed.

She doesn't make a fuss when he's busy, and he occasionally brings her things when she works overtime, but they never inquire about each other's social circles.

He took her to a secluded bar, and she accompanied him to watch the moon on the rooftop late at night. Neither of them mentioned the word "relationship," as if they were walking on a pre-drawn path, tacitly avoiding crossing the line.

"Zhou Chiye." She called him by his full name, her voice softer than usual, slightly slurred with the smell of alcohol: "Do you think what we're doing counts as... mutually exploiting each other?"

He leaned back on the sofa, the cigarette between his fingers still unlit. Hearing this, he raised an eyebrow. The light fell on her trembling eyelashes, like a layer of fine snow.

"Yes." He answered frankly, reaching out to take the wine glass from her hand, but she dodged him.

She took half a step forward, and the distance suddenly closed. He could smell the faint scent of gardenias in her hair, mixed with the smell of alcohol, creating an unfamiliar sweetness.

"Then, could we take this a step further?" She looked up at him, a teasing smile on her face.

He didn't say anything, but simply lowered his head and kissed her.

Her lips were soft, sweet with champagne, unlike what he had imagined. They had no thorns, but rather were like a gentle fire that instantly ignited his heart.

The cigarette slipped from my fingertips and burned a small mark on the carpet.

That night was crazy.