Chapter 73: Always – Main story completed.
The stylist quietly watched the couple walk away, their slender, straight backs eliciting a fleeting thought in her mind: **a match made in heaven.**
To facilitate the artists changing outfits for the red carpet, the tent outside the dressing room was not far from the venue of the Sheng Yu Awards ceremony.
As Zhi Qi and Jiang Qi walked hand in hand, they were surrounded by a flurry of cameras, the clicking sounds echoing around them. Clearly not accustomed to such a scene, the young girl subconsciously tightened her grip on Jiang Qi’s sleeve.
“What’s wrong?” As they paused on the red carpet for photos, Jiang Qi leaned slightly, whispering in Zhi Qi’s ear, “Are you uncomfortable?”
This scene was caught eagerly by the green-eyed media, who were practically drooling—after all, the renowned Jiang Qi had always been a “robot” at events, following the standard protocol without displaying such tender gestures before.
If they didn’t capture this moment now, when would they?
Holding onto the mentality of “let’s capture this joy,” the cameras recorded this scene of sweet affection.
“I’m fine.” Zhi Qi took a moment to adapt and gently shook her head.
She looked up at Jiang Qi’s cool, proud face, and suddenly felt a surge of emotion. Then, the girl extended her finger to touch the corner of his lips, her eyes sparkling like they held a galaxy.
“Smile for me.”
Jiang Qi was momentarily taken aback but couldn’t help but laugh.
**The media struck gold.**
Zhi Qi’s intention was simple—she didn’t want to see Jiang Qi looking so serious, so she encouraged him to smile.
Unbeknownst to her, their mutual laughter on the red carpet would be thoroughly recorded.
It soon became a cherished photo among CP fans who had been celebrating for years, proving that even a non-industry person like Zhi Qi could fuel the public’s fantasies of a fairy-tale romance.
Once they entered the air-conditioned interior of the awards ceremony, the previously stifling heat subsided slightly.
Zhi Qi’s fair skin was flushed from the heat as she sat down beside Jiang Qi. The boy had somehow produced a fan, diligently fanning her.
“Soon it won’t be hot anymore,” he reassured gently.
Zhi Qi nodded obediently, feeling her previously tense back relax slightly.
In truth, she found it challenging to adapt to such a “gathering of elites,” with countless cameras aimed at her and a multitude of eyes scrutinizing her… it truly required a high level of psychological endurance.
Having experienced this firsthand, Zhi Qi realized what Jiang Qi faced daily.
Moreover, most of the time, he had to deal with criticism and mindless hate. No wonder he had always wanted to leave before.
Recently, however, Jiang Qi seemed to have adapted considerably, officially accepting the fact that being in the entertainment industry was “work.” Zhi Qi mused, leaning closer to his ear, “You’re really impressive.”
The boy, easily flattered, couldn’t help but smile, even if it was a subtle expression, only visible in his eyes.
Jiang Qi had no idea why Zhi Qi praised him out of the blue, but it didn’t matter; he was happy.
Sitting beside them, Qu Heng felt a mixture of emotions—he regretted not bringing his own wife. The thought of having to sit for the next few hours while these two showed their affection made him feel cold and lonely.
He couldn’t help but cough lightly, deliberately interrupting, “Tone it down.”
Jiang Qi shot him a cool glance.
Zhi Qi felt slightly embarrassed, pursing her lips and refraining from teasing Jiang Qi further—they could save that for when they got home; there was no need to flaunt it in front of the cameras.
The next few hours were filled with the lengthy and monotonous awards ceremony.
The Sheng Yu Awards were one of the three major domestic awards, attracting a multitude of stars. It could be said that half of the entertainment industry was present. Although Zhi Qi didn’t often watch other people’s films, she had learned quite a bit about the industry’s stars and rising figures over the past two years, so she enjoyed watching.
—Until it came time to present the Best Actor award.
Having just seen the Best Actress winner take the stage, as the presenter for Best Actor walked up, Zhi Qi realized she was genuinely nervous, almost to the point of suffocation.
Though she kept telling herself to relax, deep down, she hoped Jiang Qi would win.
Zhi Qi couldn’t help but bite her lip, squeezing Jiang Qi’s hand a bit tighter, making his fair hand redden slightly from her grip.
“Qi Qi, don’t be nervous.” Jiang Qi sensed her anxiousness and gently held her hand, soothing her, “It’ll be fine.”
He also felt a bit apprehensive, but at this final moment, he found himself calming down.
If he won, great; if not, it didn’t matter.
More importantly, Jiang Qi felt he was worthy of the win.
He had watched all the competing works this year, unlike last year when he was oblivious to them. Jiang Qi couldn’t claim to have a particularly keen eye for appreciation, but both those around him and himself felt that the competitors didn’t measure up to him…
Lost in these mixed thoughts, Jiang Qi suddenly felt the grip on his fingers tighten painfully.
The presenter’s voice echoed through every corner of the venue: “The Best Actor of the 43rd Sheng Yu Awards goes to—Jiang Qi for ‘Proud Princess!’”
Accompanied by the sudden sweep of cameras across the room, the applause erupted.
Jiang Qi was still a bit dazed when he saw Zhi Qi beside him, her eyes red with excitement as she covered her mouth, holding back a squeal, “Jiang Qi! You did it!”
Seeing Zhi Qi’s uncontrollable excitement, his heart finally caught up with the feelings of “elation.”
Jiang Qi gently pulled Zhi Qi’s hand down and, in front of everyone, softly kissed her.
**The kiss of the century.**
Everyone knew how romantic this boy could be.
“Damn it, hurry up and get on stage.” Qu Heng, not yet finished celebrating, was both amused and frustrated by the scene before him. Seeing Jiang Qi kiss her, he couldn’t help but urge him forward, nearly elbowing him.
Once Jiang Qi had embraced Zhi Qi, he gently brushed a few stray hairs from her face, then stood up to hug Qu Heng before slowly walking towards the awards podium.
As he approached the stage, he instinctively raised his long fingers to adjust his suit jacket, standing tall and poised.
Upon reaching the center of the stage, Jiang Qi received the trophy from the presenter’s hands, exchanging greetings and hugs before finally standing in front of the microphone.
The previously noisy environment gradually quieted down, all spotlight and attention now focused on the boy’s slender figure, casting a long shadow on the spacious podium.
Jiang Qi slightly raised his eyes, accurately catching sight of Zhi Qi in the audience.
Then, from across the crowd, he locked eyes with those sparkling black orbs, gently smiling.
“There was an opportunity for me to stand here and speak before, but I said too little. Today… let me have a bit more time.”
For the first time since entering the industry, Jiang Qi spoke so much in a public setting outside of “acting.” His cool voice resonated, low and pleasant, reaching everyone’s ears: “To receive this award, I need to thank many people, such as Director Shen Lei, who brought me into this industry. Without him, I might be moving bricks on a construction site or, as you all know, fixing cars.”
His rare sense of humor elicited laughter among the audience.
But when the camera focused on Zhi Qi, her poised face was filled with tears in her eyes.
“Also, I want to thank our director Qu Heng. I had once withdrawn from filming. If it weren’t for Qu Ge insisting that I return to complete this story, “Arrogant” wouldn’t have had an ending.”
When the camera captured Qu Heng, Jiang Qi sincerely expressed, “Thank you very much, Qu Ge.”
Everyone knew that the boy had poured genuine feelings into his acceptance speech, causing them to sit up straight.
“What I want to thank the most is my wife.” Jiang Qi’s gaze locked onto Zhi Qi, though he spoke to everyone. “If it weren’t for Shen Ge and Qu Ge, I wouldn’t have entered the entertainment industry, and I wouldn’t be standing here today. But without my wife, Jiang Qi might have long been lost to despair.”
Perhaps he would have succumbed to death during the year he was diagnosed at seventeen, or perhaps at another time.
Without Zhi Qi, he would have had no “hope.”
His near desperate confession caused a stir among the thousand-plus people present.
Follow current novels on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.
Zhi Qi, meanwhile, covered her eyes to avoid the camera, but the high-definition lens clearly captured the tears slipping through her fingers.
Only those closest to Jiang Qi could truly understand how hard his journey had been.
He needed her, and she felt his pain.
“I’ve faced a lot of struggles in life, much like what Qu Ge wrote in his article; my childhood was very unfortunate.” Jiang Qi lowered his gaze, focusing on the intense lights before him, speaking clearly and deliberately—
“I’m not saying this to garner sympathy or anything; I just feel it’s something that needs to be said.”
“Taking this opportunity to stand before the public, I should do something.”
“I know many cameras are pointed at me, capturing my every move, so I want to say—please pay attention to them.”
“Pay more attention to those who suffer psychological scars due to their family backgrounds; they are a vulnerable group that needs our care.”
“Countless times, I’ve thought that death would be
a release, but fortunately, I met my wife and many people willing to help me, even when they didn’t have to.”
“As a form of giving back, I want to help them.”
“So, I’ve said it, thank you all.”
……
Jiang Qi felt these words should have been said long ago.
In this world, those who have been harmed by criminals can protect themselves through the law, but what about those parents who carelessly harm their own children? Are they not criminals?
And those powerless children, whom can they turn to for help? Even if they report to the police, they are often ignored under the guise of “family matters.”
In the end, those children either suffer to death or grow up.
But the impact of “family background” and “childhood trauma” can alter a person’s character, lingering throughout their lives, comparable to a “terminal illness.”
Once, Jiang Qi hated himself so much for not wanting to become someone like Jiang Quan that he nearly destroyed himself—thankfully, Zhi Qi saved him.
But what about those children who cannot speak for themselves? Will they have their own “angels”?
Not everyone is as fortunate as him, so during this moment that should have belonged solely to him, Jiang Qi voiced his true feelings.
He was not claiming to be noble.
He merely believed those groups deserved attention and focus.
After Jiang Qi finished speaking, the enormous venue fell silent.
A few seconds later, applause erupted.
The roar of applause was even louder than before Jiang Qi took the stage; some people stood up to express their support for his words.
It felt like… a grand celebration.
The thoughts they had once wanted to express but had no outlet for finally resonated in the ears of millions.
For the first time, Jiang Qi felt useful. Perhaps these words were even more meaningful than the trophy itself.
He had once considered himself unfortunate, but this past year, he had increasingly felt fortunate.
Especially at this moment, when Zhi Qi was still gazing at him from the audience.
Did you see it?
Amid the vibrant, colorful lights, Jiang Qi smiled at the girl’s eyes from across the crowd, his lips silently forming the words: We did it.
Zhi Qi wished for this world to have more kindness, so she would “dare to hope,” believing that if she could change a little, she would.
And Jiang Qi’s wish was simply for Zhi Qi’s wishes to come true.
Nothing more.
Hope is attached to existence; with existence comes hope, and with hope comes light.
—Main Story Complete—