After Becoming a Cannon-Fodder Lackey, I Swore to Protect the Young Lady to the Death - Chapter 18

Auntie Liu, the housekeeper, had already left for the night to look after her grandson. Li Gangjiao, her mind preoccupied with Lu Jiaoyue’s strange behavior, pulled a bowl of soup from the fridge that had been specifically set aside.

The microwave chimed repeatedly once the heating cycle finished, but it took Li Gangjiao several seconds to snap out of her daze. She reached for the porcelain bowl, and realizing it was scalding, she wrapped it in a kitchen towel to carry it out. Once she confirmed the temperature was manageable, she headed for the second floor with the steaming lamb soup and a spoon.

Knock, knock, knock—

There was no answer. Li Gangjiao’s concern deepened into a cold knot of dread. She tried the handle, intending to go in, but the door was locked.

This sent her into a minor panic. “Jiao Jiao? Did something happen today?” she asked, her voice soft and pleading. “Could you open the door? I heated up some lamb soup for you; it’s really good.”

“I’m fine. Just go away,” Lu Jiaoyue’s voice drifted from inside. Thanks to the heavy soundproofing of the door, her words sounded faint and distant to Li Gangjiao.

“Jiao Jiao, is it because of me? Did I make you mad? I’m so sorry, I know now that what I did was wrong. I promise I won’t do it again…” Li Gangjiao apologized frantically, the soup still warm in her hands. I should have gone to school with her today, she cursed herself.

“It’s not you. Just leave me alone.” This time, the voice was even fainter, and Li Gangjiao could hear a distinct tremor in it.

Left with nothing else to say, Li Gangjiao stood by the door for a long moment before eventually sliding down to sit on the floor. She leaned her back against the wood, hoping to catch any sound from within.

After a while, the muffled sound of sobbing drifted through the door, followed by the sharp crash of something breaking.

Li Gangjiao lunged for the handle again, but remembering it was locked, she began to pound on the door with her fist. “Jiao Jiao! Open the door, please!” She hammered against the wood until the noise inside stopped.

“Stop hitting the door! Your ear isn’t even healed. Do you want to lose a hand too?!” Lu Jiaoyue’s voice was a sudden, clear roar, thick with a heavy sob.

“Open the door and I’ll stop,” Li Gangjiao shouted back. She set the soup bowl down on a folded jacket and stared at the door with desperate intensity, ignoring the dull ache in her left hand.

The lock finally clicked. The door swung open to reveal Lu Jiaoyue, still in her school uniform. This time, Li Gangjiao saw her clearly: she was crying.

The sight of that normally radiant, proud face twisted in such agony made Li Gangjiao feel as if her own heart had been cast into the depths of the ocean, slowly suffocating. It felt wrong. Jiao Jiao was too good for this; nothing in the world should be allowed to make her cry. She should be arrogant, cold, or even aloof—anything but this broken, cornered figure.

Li Gangjiao pulled her into a tight embrace. Lu Jiaoyue’s suppressed whimpers immediately dissolved into loud, racking sobs, as if she were finally letting out every ounce of misery she had been holding back.

Outside, the moon was incomplete, a sliver of darkness marring its brilliance. But beside it, a single star glowed with a faint, steady light, as if trying to merge its brilliance with the moon’s.

Li Gangjiao didn’t speak. She just held her, letting Lu Jiaoyue’s tears soak into her collar and wash away the dust of the day. When Lu Jiaoyue had cried herself out, her beautiful eyes swollen and red, Li Gangjiao carried her to the bed and brought in the soup. Fortunately, it was still warm.

The room, usually so elegant and orderly, was a disaster. Books had been swept off the desks, and an expensive vase lay in shards across the floor. On the white rug, a few scattered flowers sat in a puddle of water.

Lu Jiaoyue took the bowl and spoon but didn’t eat. She just stared blankly at Li Gangjiao.

It was only then that Li Gangjiao saw the wound on Lu Jiaoyue’s right hand. It was a long gash, as if made by something sharp, running from her wrist to the knuckle of her pinky. The blood had mostly clotted, but fresh beads of red were oozing out again, likely from the exertion of throwing things.

Without a word, Li Gangjiao went downstairs to fetch the first-aid kit.

Trying to break the heavy atmosphere, she attempted a joke. “Well, looks like we’re both having a pretty unlucky week, huh?”

Lu Jiaoyue watched as her injured hand was gently lifted. A cotton swab soaked in iodine began to dab at the cut.

“I’ll tie a beautiful bow for you when I’m done, okay?” Li Gangjiao continued, refusing to give up on her attempt to cheer her up. “A beauty like Jiao Jiao deserves a high-fashion bandage!”

“A bow?” Lu Jiaoyue finally responded, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah! I’m an expert at bow knots. I guarantee that once I’m finished, you’ll still be the number one beauty in the world.” Li Gangjiao rambled on, encouraged by the response.

When the bandage was finished, Lu Jiaoyue actually did smile but it was a laugh of pure disbelief at how ugly it was. To think someone could actually tie a bow that badly…

Yet, as she looked at the hideous knot, the heart that had been sinking to the bottom of the ocean seemed to slowly drift back toward the surface.

“I failed my exam,” Lu Jiaoyue said, finally showing a willingness to talk.

“Is that all? I fail every single one!” Li Gangjiao said, patting her chest as if it were a badge of honor.

“It’s not that… I knew all the answers. But I still couldn’t win. It’s like my life. I know every turning point, but I can never change the outcome.” Lu Jiaoyue curled herself into a small ball, her voice a soft, broken mumble.

She had been 100% sure of her success this time. Then, out of nowhere, a shard of glass had fallen from the ceiling and sliced open her right hand while she was working on the final essay question.

It was exactly like before. In past lives, even if her father didn’t take that specific road or drive that specific car, he would still die in a crash. Even if she fled the city or studied abroad, she would always be pulled back at a specific time. No matter how careful she was, she always lost to Gu Yan.

Is it really destiny? she wondered. She had removed every obstacle… so why was this still happening?

Whether she worked hard or gave up entirely, the ending was always the same: she would end up on the streets. The “Second Place” on the scoreboard felt like a mockery of her resistance like a god in the heavens laughing at her powerlessness.

The surveillance cameras showed no glass shard hitting her. Yet, her hand had undeniably erupted in blood during the test, the searing pain acting as a warning: Do not try to escape. Do not try to resist. This is your fate. Submit to it.

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