Sickly Bigshot CH 33 Impulsive
Translated by The BL Muse (ko-fi)
The moment Shi Zhou was swallowed by the icy seawater, his mind was flooded not only with the bone-deep terror ingrained in him but also with the instinctive unwillingness and pain of an unexpected death—something his usually carefree nature had always overlooked.
Countless emotions erupted violently, weaving into a cocoon of despair that trapped Shi Zhou, rendering him unable to break free. Even as the saltwater burned his eyes, he forced them open, uncaring of the pain.
—I don’t want to die.
A flash of white flickered before his eyes, and then Shi Zhou crashed into someone’s embrace. Instinctively, he clung to them like a lifeline, refusing to let go.
Shi Zhou remained rigid, holding onto Qin Yancheng for dear life, not thrashing like most drowning people would.
Seeing Shi Zhou’s abnormal state, Qin Yancheng’s heart sank. He lifted him to the surface.
The sunlight stung Shi Zhou’s seawater-soaked eyes, forcing them shut. In the darkness of his panic, he only tightened his grip on the only warmth and solid presence he could find.
His mind was in chaos, as if his soul had been shattered, leaving only the memory of his death:
The icy river water flooding the car, filling his nose and mouth, the seatbelt jammed, the door crushed shut by the pressure—dying in suffocating agony—
Rescuers brought them back to the boat. Seeing Shi Zhou trembling violently, his breathing ragged, his face twisted in fear, Qin Yancheng acted decisively. One arm wrapped around Shi Zhou’s shoulders while the other patted his back firmly.
Shi Zhou coughed violently, expelling seawater, then finally gasped out, his voice trembling and incoherent. "I don’t wanna die... Brother, it’s so cold... I don’t wanna die... I can’t see... Brother..."
Qin Yancheng’s heart clenched. He held Shi Zhou close, one hand rubbing his back soothingly, the other gently wiping his seawater-stung eyes, murmuring low in his ear. "Shi Zhou, it’s okay now. It’s okay."
Xin Jing hurriedly handed over a bottle of water. Qin Yancheng silently took it, dampened a tissue, and carefully wiped Shi Zhou’s red, swollen eyes.
But the dampness seemed endless. Qin Yancheng realized—those weren’t seawater, those were Shi Zhou’s silent tears.
His eyes were tightly shut, not a sound escaping him, yet tears soaked his lashes, dripping down with the seawater from his hair. The only sign was the occasional shuddering breath.
Qin Yancheng was momentarily stunned. He had never seen Shi Zhou like this. Even the discomfort of being mistaken for someone else and called "brother" earlier was forgotten. His heart twisted with an inexplicable panic.
The speedboat quickly docked. Medical staff onshore rushed forward, but Shi Zhou refused to let go of his lifeline, his body stiff and trembling, eyes still unopened.
The more they tried to pry him loose, the tighter he clung, wrapping himself around Qin Yancheng like a koala.
Seeing this, Qin Yancheng simply patted his head and said firmly, "Wait a little longer."
Qin Yancheng’s mood was clearly foul from worry, and no one dared approach further. But with Shi Zhou, he remained patient, murmuring soothingly, "Don’t be afraid. I’m here. You won’t die."
Shi Zhou buried his face in Qin Yancheng’s shoulder, unmoving.
In that moment, Qin Yancheng didn’t know what came over him. Without thinking, he lowered his head—
And pressed a light kiss to Shi Zhou’s forehead.
It was meant as comfort, but something deeper, something he hadn’t even considered before, lingered in the gesture.
The action startled even himself. Fortunately, Shi Zhou was still out of it and didn’t notice. Neither did anyone else.
Except—he’d completely forgotten the cameras were still rolling, broadcasting everything live.
The netizens, faced with such a shocking development, were dazed:
[Oh my god, this is a thalassophobia nightmare. I nearly drowned as a kid—this is terrifying.]
[This challenge is way too dangerous!]
[Why were the safety measures so lax? If something happened to Zhouzhou, could you even take responsibility?!]
[President Qin is so gentle... I thought they were fighting today, but they’re clearly still sweet.]
[The way he jumped into the water was so damn handsome. Even the lifeguards weren’t that fast.]
Of course, there were always haters:
[So fake. Even if he can’t swim, wouldn’t he struggle at all? Clearly acting!]
Fans immediately clapped back:
[First you say he can’t act, now you say he’s acting too well? Pick a struggle.]
[You think he’d risk his life for a show? Or that President Qin would play along with something this dangerous?]
[Ever heard of PTSD? Looks like Zhouzhou might’ve had a bad experience with water before.]
[Agreed.]
It took a long time before Shi Zhou’s consciousness fully returned. He forced his stinging eyes open, his vision blurry. The first thing he saw was the sharp line of Qin Yancheng’s jaw, tense and strained.
Qin Yancheng’s hair and clothes were soaked, but his body was warm, his arms around Shi Zhou firm and secure.
"Qin Yancheng?" Shi Zhou’s mind was still a mess, only one thought clear. He murmured, "Qin Yancheng, I don’t wanna die."
His throat was raw from the seawater, his voice hoarse. Qin Yancheng hummed in response. "Don’t talk. Not wanting to die is good. You won’t die... Don’t be afraid."
Then he carried Shi Zhou to the show’s RV.
Apart from the primal fear and the words "I don’t wanna die," Shi Zhou had no idea how he’d gone from flying in the sky to being drenched in Qin Yancheng’s arms.
Most baffling of all—why was Qin Yancheng holding him so tightly? So tight he could barely breathe. Almost as if... Qin Yancheng was nervous?
Assistant Bian rushed over with towels and dry clothes. "President Qin, Brother Shi, I brought clothes and towels. I also bought some ginger. Should I make ginger tea? You both just got soaked—it’ll help warm you up."
Shi Zhou, placed on the bed, was still disoriented, his eyes burning. He’d been listless until the words "ginger tea" sent him bolting upright in protest. "No! I won’t drink it!"
Qin Yancheng ignored him. "Go make it."
"Qin Yancheng, I absolutely refuse!"
Shi Zhou’s voice was still hoarse. No matter how hard he tried to sound firm, it came out pitifully weak, almost whiny. Compared to Qin Yancheng’s dominance, he stood no chance.
Qin Yancheng remained unmoved. Soon, the pungent smell of ginger filled the RV.
Shi Zhou, eyes still shut, despaired—My assistant doesn’t even listen to me. This life is unbearable.
Qin Yancheng didn’t bother changing out of his wet clothes first, instead helping the half-blind Shi Zhou undress and get cleaned up.
In the warmth of the RV, Shi Zhou’s fear quickly dissipated, just like when he’d first transmigrated—leaving only faint traces, as if nothing had happened.
It was one of his greatest strengths—his resilience, his ability to bounce back.
As Qin Yancheng unbuttoned Shi Zhou’s shirt, he said, "The doctor will check your eyes later. Anywhere else uncomfortable?"
Shi Zhou, eyes closed, felt a sudden chill—he’d been stripped bare.
He huffed. "Qin Yancheng, weren’t you ignoring me? Weren’t you still mad? Why so chatty now?"
Qin Yancheng’s hands paused briefly before he replied flatly, "Different matters."
Shi Zhou pouted, eyes still shut as he teased, "You just saw me naked!"
Qin Yancheng sighed. "I’ve seen it all before."
Once Shi Zhou was cleaned up and the doctor confirmed his eyes and body were fine—just needing eye drops—Qin Yancheng finally relaxed. He turned away to change out of his own soaked clothes.
Hearing the rustle of fabric, Shi Zhou couldn’t resist peeking through his sore eyes—
Qin Yancheng’s smooth back and toned waistline came into view, his broad shoulders and narrow waist a perfect ratio. Not looking would’ve been a waste.
Qin Yancheng sensed the gaze. "Eyes don’t hurt anymore? Close them!"
"Ah," Shi Zhou opened and closed his mouth, obediently shutting his eyes again. "You’re... pretty open and magnanimous, huh."
Given how easily Qin Yancheng had held him last night, Shi Zhou wondered if he’d misjudged him. Maybe Qin Yancheng wasn’t homophobic at all.
—Shi Zhou had met some ridiculous people before: guys who wouldn’t change in front of him, acting like a single glance in the restroom was some violation.
Every time, he’d wanted to roll his eyes. Look in the mirror, dude. I have standards.
"You’ve seen me before," Qin Yancheng stated coolly. "More than once."
Shi Zhou flushed. "Th-that was doctor’s orders! If I hadn’t watched you, you might’ve—"
Never mind. That’d just lead to those memories.
Qin Yancheng finished changing and poured a cup of ginger tea. "Drink."
Shi Zhou, leaning against the headboard, shook his head like a rattle, as if testing whether seawater had seeped into his brain. "This stuff’s disgusting. You drink first. Set an example."
Qin Yancheng steadied Shi Zhou’s head with one hand—lest he shake it right off—then downed the cup in one go. He poured another and handed it to Shi Zhou.
The ginger tea was strong and even held a trace of something that smelled inexplicable. Assistant Bian must’ve added some dubious herbal concoction. One sip nearly sent Shi Zhou to the afterlife.
He barely managed to choke it down before collapsing onto the bed. "I never want to hear the word ‘ginger’ again this year. Seriously."
Just then, Xin Jing poked his head in. "My assistant bought some brown sugar ginger tea, fried ginger slices, and fresh ginger juice. Want some to warm up?"
Shi Zhou: "............"
"Feeling better, Shi Zhou?" Xin Jing opened the door wider. "Ah, my bad. Didn’t check the safety measures properly. Thank goodness you’re okay—otherwise, I’d never forgive myself. Well, Qin Yancheng would kill me first."
Shi Zhou gave a thumbs-up from the bed, signaling he was fine.
This incident wasn’t entirely Xin Jing’s fault. Without the accidental fall, Shi Zhou wouldn’t have realized how deep his fear of water ran. He’d never thought someone as thick-skinned as him could have trauma.
He was worried Qin Yancheng would ask about his reaction. Lying on the spot about death and transmigration wouldn’t be easy—he usually needed to draft his fibs in advance. And right now his head was still foggy and he very likely would mess it up.
Qin Yancheng cleared his throat, about to speak. Shi Zhou braced himself—this is it—
But instead, Qin Yancheng asked, "You don’t have an older brother. Who were you calling ‘brother’ earlier?" Shi Zhou’s file was sparse—no older brothers of any kind. So who had Shi Zhou been clinging to so intimately?
Qin Yancheng hadn’t originally intended to pry into Shi Zhou’s private matters, but now that he’d snapped out of it, he couldn’t understand why he cared so much about something that seemed like such a minor detail. Still, those two words stuck in his throat—neither coming out nor going down—leaving behind a strange, awkward, and sour feeling. In the end, he decided to speak up.
Shi Zhou was taken aback. Had he really called him “brother”? Maybe it was just instinct—every time he ran into trouble, he subconsciously reached out to Shi Li for help, deeply relying on him without realizing it.
Oh god! Wouldn’t that give him away? The original Shi Zhou didn’t have a biological, adoptive, or any kind of older brother in any sense!
Shi Zhou couldn’t understand why someone like Qin Yancheng would care about what kind of relatives he had or not. The only possible explanation was—had Qin Yancheng figured out he wasn’t from this world? Was he trying to use this slip-up to expose him?!
Shi Zhou instantly tensed, his mind racing for an answer. “It’s just… my, my ex-boyfriend! Yeah! Calling your boyfriend ‘brother’ is totally normal, isn’t it?”
Qin Yancheng’s heart sank, like being struck by muffled thunder. A wave of unexplainable frustration and jealousy surged up inside him. He didn’t know what he was angry about, or why he felt so restless, but he simply responded with a calm and expressionless, “Mnn.”
With his eyes closed, Shi Zhou couldn’t see Qin Yancheng’s face and assumed he’d successfully brushed the matter off. He let out a long sigh of relief.
Qin Yancheng stayed with Shi Zhou as he rested for half the day. With cooling eye masks on, Shi Zhou couldn’t see a thing.
For someone as fidgety as him, being unable to see was torture. He was dying of boredom. And to make things worse, Qin Yancheng had inexplicably gone cold again.
Since Shi Zhou couldn’t see and Qin Yancheng responded to everything with a flat “Mnn,” he finally kicked his legs and complained dramatically. “Ugh! It’s just a kiss—your lips didn’t fall off, did they? You’ve been mad long enough! I really said I was sorry, Qin sir!”
Qin Yancheng closed the book in his hand and looked at Shi Zhou, who was half-blind but still flailing like an angry kitten. He frowned helplessly.
He hadn’t been particularly angry, but keeping his distance that morning was intentional.
—Because he couldn’t quite make sense of what had come over him. The moment Shi Zhou had unexpectedly kissed him the night before, a rush of heat had surged straight to his head, blowing away all his reason.
He’d had an absurd, uncontrollable urge to respond even more passionately—to grab Shi Zhou’s head, force his mouth open…
Qin Yancheng took a deep breath. It was clearly irrational and entirely inappropriate.
Last night, he’d stared at the ceiling in the dark while Shi Zhou nestled into his chest, thinking: If I keep my distance, maybe all these strange, chaotic feelings will settle down.
After resting most of the day, Shi Zhou was finally back to his lively self. By the time the sun began to set, he was thrilled to hear they’d be having a beach barbecue and eagerly joined the others in prepping the ingredients.
Tan Zhi came over. “Shi Zhou, feeling better? You scared the hell out of me today.”
Shi Zhou flipped his high ponytail. “Totally fine.”
After a moment, he also gave a quick shout-out to the fans on camera, reassuring them he was safe so they wouldn’t keep worrying.
He had no idea why, but lately he seemed magnetically drawn to trending searches—once again, that thrilling video of his near-drowning had gone viral.
He hadn’t had time to watch it yet, but fans were already screaming excitedly, gushing that Qin Yancheng was just too handsome, too sweet—practically sugar incarnate. Shi Zhou thought: I don’t even remember what happened, but with how cold and disengaged Qin Yancheng’s been today, people still think it was sweet? That’s gotta be one hell of a rose-colored, heart-bubble filter.
He made a mental note to watch the clip later and see just how “sweet” it supposedly was.
Meanwhile, Qin Yancheng, fiddling with the grill nearby, had zero interest in “shipping his own OTP” and watch a video of himself. So he remained completely unaware: that impulsive kiss he’d thought had gone unnoticed had, in fact, been caught crystal-clear on camera—every movement recorded in high definition, setting fans everywhere into a frenzy of screaming.
Xin Jing had watched the two of them cold-shoulder each other all day, and though he didn’t know exactly what had happened during their time alone in the RV—what was said, what went down—he could clearly feel that the atmosphere between them had only gotten worse.
While Qin Yancheng might’ve looked the same on the surface, if you looked closely, he didn’t seem like he was avoiding things anymore—he genuinely looked pissed off.
Xin Jing thought, No way, the ship I’m rooting for can’t fall apart like this! What’s going on in Qin Yancheng’s head? Fine, guess I’ll have to give him a little push.
The reality show schedule had to go on as usual. Speaking into the mic, Xin Jing said, “Tonight, everyone’s responsible for setting up their own sleeping spot! Come on over and pick up your tents!”
Shi Zhou had never slept in a tent before, so the idea delighted him—like a kid building a fort and playing house inside. Who doesn’t have a bit of childlike wonder in their heart?
He eagerly trotted over, waiting for the props team to hand him his tent so he could build it himself.
Just as he waited with excitement, he suddenly saw Xin Jing standing behind the equipment with a strange smile on his baby face... it was that dreaded “fujoshi smile” again.
Shi Zhou’s internal alarm bells rang at full volume—he instantly realized his childlike joy was about to be crushed, and things were probably going to veer straight back into NSFW territory.
They were still in the middle of a cold war, after all, and right now Shi Zhou really didn’t want to deal with Qin Yancheng—much less sleep next to that jerk.
Still clinging to a shred of hope, he asked, “Director Xin, where’s my tent?”
Qin Yancheng had also sensed something was off and looked up. Xin Jing, under the searing gaze of Qin Yancheng (who looked ready to chew him alive), could only steel himself and clap his hands. “Hello, everyone watching at home! Tonight we’ll be showing off a couple’s tent! That’s right—double occupancy!”
Shi Zhou unfolded the tent as the corner of his lips twitched, practically ready to shake Xin Jing by the shoulders: Director Xin, what are you doing?! Get a grip! You know we’re a fake couple!
—Even a couple’s tent was way too small. Two fully grown men with broad builds? Was he supposed to sleep in Qin Yancheng’s arms or something?!
.
.
.
AN: Qin sir, are you completely blind to the cameras? You thought sneak-kissing wouldn’t be noticed, but the entire internet—
Qin Yancheng: Shut up!