Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 44

To attract more viewers, most variety shows aired in a hybrid format—pre-recorded with live edits—so office workers and students wouldn’t miss out on the highlights.

Backstage in the recording studio, a staff member came running over with two earpieces, stars practically sparkling in her eyes, and handed them to Su Ci and Shang He.

“Miss, could I get your autograph? Once you blow up, I’ll be one of your first true fans!”

Shang He, just about to head onstage, blinked: “…?”

That made it the tenth staffer to approach his sister under some strange excuse. Their reasons were getting increasingly bizarre: touching up her makeup, testing her mic, bringing her mineral water, offering to style her…

Even though Jie wore a face mask and kept a low profile in a professional outfit, they still clung to her like sticky tape.

Terrifying, when you thought about it.

Shang He didn’t even want to go onstage anymore. He wanted to stay behind and guard his sister, keep an eye on every single paparazzi rat sniffing around her.

Su Ci took the earpiece, but before she could say anything, Shang He was already bowing his head obediently so she could easily hook the mic around his ear.

“Jie, can you wait outside? There are too many people here, the air isn’t fresh… What if there’s some kind of virus spreading around?”

The nearby staff, eavesdropping: “…”

Excuse you? Are you implying we’re not medically cleared to work?

Fine. This rookie—they made a mental note to blacklist him in their little backroom gossip notebook!

Su Ci straightened his well-pressed performance outfit, smiling gently at him.

“Go on. Tangtang and I will be cheering for you.”

Shang He muttered under his breath, “…I don’t care about her cheers. I only need yours, Jie.”

They didn’t even need a so-called assistant. He was so sensible and capable that he could easily handle being Jie’s assistant, driver, bodyguard, and even her live-in housekeeper.

Who needed Tangtang?

That saccharine, cutesy name—Xiao Tang, Tangtang, Sweetie Sugar Tang… Every time Jie called her that, it made him sick with jealousy!

As he stepped onto the stage, glancing back every three steps, he looked out at the sea of fans in the audience—dense, noisy, waving glow sticks and banners. A chill ran through him. His palms broke out in cold sweat.

Don’t misunderstand. He wasn’t nervous about performing.

He never got stage fright.

It was those other little celebrities with pre-existing fanbases—when their names were called, the cheers were overwhelming, deafening.

And now, even as he stepped onto the stage, that noise hadn’t died down.

Jie only had him. What if she heard all that and started thinking those other stars had more potential? What if she decided to sign them too?

He nearly forgot—being onstage meant he was away from Jie. Didn’t that give those contestants a chance to sneak in and steal her attention?

The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. So he sang louder and louder, trying to drown out the other fans’ cheers.

As if the louder he sang, the more Jie would only hear him, and no one else.

In the audience, a girl from the music department nudged her best friend.

“Wow, that new guy is so professional. His voice is so full of emotion! What song is that? I’ve never heard it, but it’s amazing!”

Her friend wasn’t sure. She opened a music recognition app but quickly frowned.

“Nothing’s coming up. No results. But dang, he’s got some pipes!”

The first girl sighed. “Ugh, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone to the bathroom earlier. I missed the intro. If I had caught his name, I’d be following him right now. He’s got real potential.”

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and came face-to-face with a gorgeous, shadowed beauty.

Su Ci gave a small, polite smile.

“His name is Shang He. He’s performing an original piece called Falling Grace. If you’re interested, feel free to join our fan group. Would you like a support banner?”

“Thank you, Jie!” the girl beamed, accepting the glow sign without hesitation. Her eyes sparkled. “Are you his fan club president? You have such good taste—he’s a hidden gem!”

If she was just vaguely supportive before, the girl now instantly saw herself as a devoted, diehard Shang He fan.

Not just for the song—for the gorgeous, gentle fan club leader. For her sake alone, she’d rally the entire dorm to support him!

Under the girl’s and her friend’s promotion, a small patch of blue glow signs lit up in the audience, and several banners with Shang He’s name and face were held high.

But Shang He hadn’t noticed the lights first.

During the musical interlude, he suddenly felt something—turning toward the front-right section of the crowd, he spotted her immediately.

Jie. Wearing her mask. Sitting quietly in the audience.

Even with the stage lights blinding and the seating area mostly dark, he was absolutely certain—that pair of eyes belonged to his Jie.

She hadn’t left.

She’d been there the entire time, watching him sing. She was holding a light stick and support banner, just like one of his most devoted fans.

The smart cameras caught the thread of his lingering gaze and traced it toward the crowd. They focused on Su Ci—zooming in on her for a full ten-second close-up.

After Shang He’s powerful performance, the audience had gone quiet, focused solely on the music. But now, their collective breath hitched.

So, so, so, SO beautiful.

Why was she wearing a mask? They were being robbed of her beauty!

Wait—what was that in her hands?

Shang He? Who? The guy onstage?

Never heard of him. Don’t know him. But starting now? He’s my new obsession.

The camera refused to cut away. So Su Ci pulled down her mask, looked straight into the lens, and said softly:

“Shang He, keep going. I’ll always love you—and your music.”

The short silence that followed was shattered by an ear-splitting cheer.

They didn’t know the name of the stunning woman in the crowd, but that overwhelming wave of excitement exploded into a single, thunderous chant:

“Shang He! Shang He! Shang He!”

—

Backstage, a rising internet singer—confident in his fanbase and certain he’d win the preliminaries—walked out with plans to interact with his fans. But he accidentally kicked a glow sign lying on the floor.

He looked down. Huh. It had his name on it.

He looked up again.

Where was his whole section of fans?

They were just there a second ago! He’d only stepped aside to drink some water!

This music variety show was wildly popular. Song Weijiao had even pulled strings to get Yan Zhiyan a spot in the competition—those slots were booked months in advance.

From outside, she vaguely heard someone say “Shang He.” She scoffed to herself, Must be someone with a similar name. That brat? He’s lucky if no one throws rotten eggs at him.

But the moment she stepped into the control room and saw his face on the monitor—flawless, radiant—her own face turned green. She stared in disbelief.

“…Impossible. How is this possible?”

In her past life, Shang He had been in the business for years and never gained that many fans.

She snapped at Yan Zhiyan.

“When you go onstage, you better bring your A-game. You’re a future queen of pop—crush him for me, you hear?!”

Yan Zhiyan crossed her legs lazily, voice indifferent.

“Relax. The song I picked is crazy popular, and hardly anyone can handle the high notes. He’s nothing.”

It was a classic, a timeless hit she had practiced for months—all for the purpose of stunning the audience today.

Meanwhile, the backstage staff silently jotted down yet another black mark.

They’d never seen such arrogant artists and managers. But honestly, it all came down to comparison—arrogant or not, at least Shang He had the skill to back it up.

Since when did parrots who could only mimic original singers get to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with creative talents?

—

In any case, Shang He’s rapidly growing fanbase had thrown all the other contestants into a panic.

But the most panicked person… was Shang He himself, standing up there under the spotlight.

Damn that camera. Why did it keep focusing on Jie?

Don’t think he didn’t notice—just because he was singing didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping track. That stupid auto-tracking lens had zoomed in on her five times already in the past minute!