After the Heartthrob Took the Cannon Fodder Script [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 14

Juezhou was long accustomed to waking up after 8:00 AM. Consequently, when he was awoken by Jiang Henian’s voice at 7:00 AM, he muffled his head in the quilt and muttered softly, pleading for him not to be so noisy.

The young man at his side paused for a few seconds. A long, fair hand reached into the quilt and grasped Juezhou’s ankle. Juezhou shrank back at the touch, but he wasn’t fully awake; he sleepily hugged the corner of the quilt and curled into a ball.

Jiang Henian held his ankle bone, patiently and meticulously putting a sock on him. Because it was exposed to the slightly cool air, Juezhou’s calf wobbled; after the young man touched it, the cold jade-like color gained a hint of light pink.

Rather than being covered by a sock, it seemed even more suitable for being sucked and kissed.

Jiang Henian watched with a calm gaze, contemplating what color of long johns would look good with white socks for Juezhou.

The Diplomat, who usually cared little for external objects, was extremely passionate about buying clothes for his foster brother. His fanaticism was no less than someone playing Miracle Zhouzhou. Most of the clothes in Juezhou’s closet were selected and purchased by Jiang Henian; although they were all white shirts and black trousers, there were subtle differences in the style of every white shirt.

However, Jiang Henian’s own formal wear was entirely selected by his assistants, and his few pieces of loungewear and casual clothes were bought by Mother Gu while she was out shopping. Occasionally, when he did pick out clothes for himself, they were always from shops like Heilan Home.

Juezhou’s appearance was the kind of beauty that was very bold and aggressive. He could be quite intimidating when he put on a serious face, but when he curved his eyes or lowered his eyelashes, he appeared exceptionally well-behaved.

Like right now.

As Jiang Henian’s fingers moved upward to help him change his shirt, Juezhou, sensing the heat source, proactively rubbed against his chest. His voice carried a hint of milkiness: “Mmm…”

The skin under his palm felt smooth and tender. Jiang Henian rubbed it with the pad of his finger, his fingertip touching Juezhou’s Adam’s apple. It was just a light brush over the top, like a feather.

—The beautiful young man reacted as if something extremely forbidden had been touched. The lines of his back suddenly tensed, and he bit his lip hard to suppress a shameful sound.

“Brother Henian,” the young man said in a voice thick with sleepiness a second later, after seeing the face of the person before him clearly.

Jiang Henian only said, “Get dressed and come eat breakfast.”

“Oh…” Juezhou was quite obedient; he rubbed his eyes and sat up.

Being helped into his clothes by an foster brother only a few years older than him was something Juezhou had been used to since he was a cub. However, it was still incredibly shameful. Taking advantage of Jiang Henian turning around, he stretched his legs under the quilt, clenched his fist, and lightly thumped his own forehead.

The early death of his parents made Jiang Henian more mature than others from a young age, while Juezhou—both inside and outside the small worlds—was a spoiled brat.

Back when the two slept together, Juezhou would oversleep every day, clinging to the quilt and acting spoiled with a milky voice. Jiang Henian would give up after a few attempts at urging him; once his own hands were warm, he would reach into the quilt to help Juezhou change.

Juezhou was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t wake up even from such tossing and turning. By the time he was conscious, he had already been carried by Jiang Henian to the sink, with the toothpaste already prepared.

Juezhou: …Recalling it is really quite embarrassing.

So, even if he was a notorious “Great Demon King” with a terrible temper in the playboy circles, in front of Jiang Henian, he was still the younger brother who needed looking after.

Later, as they grew older, the time they started sleeping in separate beds happened to coincide with Jiang Henian’s most stressful period of schooling. Juezhou was happy that he could finally do “bad things” in secret, but on the first day Jiang Henian got his own bedroom, he locked himself inside and didn’t eat for the entire day.

“So Jiang Henian actually has a puberty phase too,” the playboys in their circle remarked upon hearing about it.

During breakfast, Jiang Henian received news that he had to go on a temporary business trip to a neighboring galaxy.

“Okay!” Juezhou said indistinctly while biting his spoon. It was just a bit of a pity that Jiang Henian couldn’t continue cooking for him.

Jiang Henian: “You are not allowed to go looking for that kid named Xie while I’m away.”

“I promise!” Juezhou quickly let go of his phone. On the chat interface, Juezhou was currently sending his daily lewd harassment message to Xie Wenchen.

At that moment, the System announced a new mission: [Advance the original plot. Stay in the Protagonist Top’s house for a full week and humiliate the Protagonist Shou in front of the Protagonist Top. Mission Reward: 100 Oppression Points.]

After hearing the mission description, Juezhou almost swallowed his spoon in fright.

[What…] Juezhou was shocked. [This is asking for my death.]

The System encouraged its timid host: [Go for it! This is exactly what the original ‘you’ did, greatly catalyzing the relationship between the Protagonist Top and Bottom.]

However, because something had gone slightly wrong with Juezhou’s targeting of Zhou Chenyu, the cannon fodder young master in the original work still had a “superficial friends” relationship with Zhou Chenyu; otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to move into Zhou Chenyu’s house.

[Fine.] Juezhou let out a gloomy sigh. But thinking of the wages he could collect after leaving the world, he became full of energy again.

As soon as Jiang Henian left, Juezhou pulled Zhou Chenyu’s contact out of his blacklist and sent a text asking if he was free. Zhou Chenyu replied after more than an hour: [I was filming just now. What’s up?]

Juezhou thought of a good reason: [I’m the only one at home lately and there’s no one to cook for me. I want to come stay at your place for a few days.]

Although this reason was ridiculous, when used by his “unreasonable” character, it seemed exceptionally realistic.

Zhou Chenyu replied very quickly this time: [Young Master, I recall we aren’t that close, are we?]

…Damnable Protagonist Top.

Juezhou puffed out his cheeks and replied: [We can get closer slowly.]

Zhou Chenyu sent an address: [I’ll be home in two hours.]

Juezhou didn’t disturb the driver; he packed his own luggage and took the bus. The security at the community where Zhou Chenyu lived was very tight. He must have given them a heads-up, as the security guard let Juezhou in after checking his ID card.

Because Zhou Chenyu said he’d be back in two hours, Juezhou thought he’d have to wait for a long time. Unexpectedly, as soon as he stood before the door, the automatic identification system beeped: “Beep—Detection correct. Please enter.” The door opened automatically.

Juezhou poked his head around in confusion. In high school, he often came to Zhou Chenyu’s house to copy homework; over time, Zhou Chenyu had recorded Juezhou’s personal information into the door’s identification system.

Later, when Zhou Chenyu entered the entertainment industry and moved, he unexpectedly forgot to delete Juezhou’s information from the system. This was too stupid—he wasn’t even as smart as Juezhou with his good memory.

Zhou Chenyu’s home was very empty; that was Juezhou’s first impression. All the furniture was in solid colors, simple and clean. Even though the floor was already spotless, the robot vacuum was still crawling around, working hard.

The sofa looked familiar—it was the place where Zhou Chenyu sat during his livestream a few days ago. There was an extra ashtray on the coffee table, with a bit of ash accumulated in the porcelain-white container.

Juezhou changed his shoes and almost stepped on the robot vacuum. He apologized to it with curved eyes, “Sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.” The robot vacuum, which didn’t have a language chip installed, bypassed his legs and continued its hard work.

Juezhou sat on the sofa and boredly turned on the TV. A variety show was playing, and one of the guests happened to be Zhou Chenyu.

Zhou Chenyu was wearing dark casual clothes. Although he was smiling, there was always a thick sense of detachment. Even though he didn’t like Zhou Chenyu, Juezhou had to admit that the Zhou Chenyu on screen was glowing. His hair and eyebrows were very dark, yet he had peach-blossom eyes and very vivid lip color—he was as flirtatious as a male fox spirit.

To attract views, the program crew always focused the camera on him, but he rarely spoke. Rather than showcasing himself, he preferred giving opportunities to the newcomers who were fresh to variety shows.

Zhou Chenyu entered the entertainment industry right after high school and worked alone without any backing. In those years, Juezhou had almost no contact with him, but seeing his current personality—so different from before—one could guess he had suffered a lot.

“I saw gossip before saying that Zhou Chenyu has been taking jobs like crazy these past few years. Is it to earn money to support a ‘wife’?” Juezhou thought while propping up his chin. Xie Wenchen would start developing his own career line in a while and wouldn’t need Zhou Chenyu to support him.

After just one hour, the automatic identification system sounded again. Zhou Chenyu returned carrying several large bags. The biodegradable, eco-friendly plastic bags were filled with vegetables and meat.

Juezhou, sitting on the sofa, suddenly sat up straight and looked at him, feeling deeply confused for a few seconds. Zhou Chenyu glanced at him and then walked into the kitchen with the groceries.

“What do you want to eat?” he turned and asked.

“Whatever,” Juezhou didn’t expect Zhou Chenyu to actually believe his nonsense. “Anyway, no garlic, no onions, no cilantro, easy on the spice. I don’t eat animal organs. If you make sweet dishes, remember to sprinkle white sesame seeds. Potatoes should be shredded, not cubed.”

Zhou Chenyu: “…Young Master’s stomach. I remember it all.”

With the robot’s assistance, the meal was quickly prepared and set on the table. Zhou Chenyu leaned against the window and pointed at the dining table, signaling Juezhou to eat first.

Juezhou washed his hands and sat at the table. With a bit of curiosity, he tasted a shrimp and found it was quite good. He remembered that during their sophomore year, an accident happened in Zhou Chenyu’s family, and he couldn’t even afford breakfast every day. Juezhou would buy an extra portion of breakfast every day and sneak it into Zhou Chenyu’s desk.

Juezhou never expected anything in return for such things, nor did he hope Zhou Chenyu would feel any gratitude toward him; moreover, he had always viewed Zhou Chenyu as an arch-rival. In his heart, lending a hand to someone in trouble was a perfectly ordinary and common thing. If it were someone else instead of Zhou Chenyu, he would have helped just the same.

After eating half the rice in his bowl, Juezhou turned his head and asked him, “Aren’t you eating?”

Zhou Chenyu had lit a cigarette at some point, the fire flickering between his fingers. He stood in the draft, not letting Juezhou catch even a whiff of smoke. “Not eating.”

Pale white smoke rose, obscuring his features and making his expression blurry. Juezhou looked at the dishes on the table—there was only a portion for one person. Zhou Chenyu likely had already eaten out. It was only a little past 10:00 AM when he returned; did he eat lunch that early?

Once Juezhou was full, Zhou Chenyu stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and helped Juezhou settle his luggage in the guest room.

“I signed a contract with a livestream platform. I must stream for forty hours this month,” Zhou Chenyu said. “It won’t disturb your sleep, will it?”

The two had slept together for three years; Zhou Chenyu knew Juezhou was the type who couldn’t be woken up even by thunder and rain. But after being apart for so many years, he wasn’t sure if Juezhou had changed his sleeping habits. People always change over such a long time—just like Zhou Chenyu himself.

Juezhou thought he was hinting for him not to disturb him and quickly raised both hands: “I promise to hide in my room and not come out.”

If this mission succeeded, the reward would be very generous. Juezhou was willing to abandon his dignity just to stay at Zhou Chenyu’s house.

Juezhou asked softly again, “Can I bring friends over?”

Zhou Chenyu laughed: “Sure. Just don’t bring back any ‘wild’ men.”

Juezhou curved his eyes: “Okay.” Xie Wenchen doesn’t count as a wild man, right? He’s your future boyfriend.

“I have to go to the film set every day during the day, and sometimes I’ll stay at the set at night too,” Zhou Chenyu continued. “I’ll make time to come back and cook the three meals for you.”

Juezhou actually hadn’t come for the meals, and hearing this, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of guilt. However, the notification sound from the System dispelled that tiny bit of guilt: [Protagonist Top Oppression Points +10].

[Can I get Oppression Points for bullying the Protagonist Top too?] Juezhou asked.

The System replied: [From now on, it counts. I just submitted an application to headquarters. Since the Protagonist Top and Bottom will be together in the future, bullying the Top counts as bullying the Bottom as well. The calculation method for Oppression Points is the same.]

Juezhou made up his mind to bully Zhou Chenyu well. But then he thought—someone as insidious as Zhou Chenyu couldn’t have easily agreed to let him move in. There must be some kind of trap.

By nighttime, Juezhou discovered what the trap was.

Before he prepared to sleep, the robot vacuum suddenly malfunctioned, spinning around in the guest room with a red light blinking. It looked like it had some kind of glitch and couldn’t be chased out.

Juezhou stared at it in distress and finally decided to go find Zhou Chenyu for help. The master bedroom door wasn’t closed; Zhou Chenyu was livestreaming a game.

In stark contrast to the gentleness he showed during the day, he was leaning against his gaming chair with an extremely indifferent expression. The sense of detachment seemed even thicker, combined with his vivid features—he was like a piece of painted ice that could melt at any moment, a fleeting reflection in a mirror.

Juezhou would also get very frustrated when he lost a game, but it was different from Zhou Chenyu’s current state. …It didn’t feel like he was frustrated because he lost; some other emotion was much stronger.

He poked his head around the doorframe and abandoned the idea of looking for Zhou Chenyu. Unexpectedly, Zhou Chenyu noticed him first.

“What is it?” Zhou Chenyu took off his headphones and turned his head to ask.

Juezhou gestured, trying to keep his volume as low as possible: “The robot vacuum is broken. It’s wandering around in my room.”

“It’s okay, it breaks often,” Zhou Chenyu’s expression didn’t change. “Come here.”

Juezhou walked over with light steps. Just as he reached the gaming chair, he was pulled into Zhou Chenyu’s embrace.

Zhou Chenyu clearly hadn’t held someone much; Juezhou subconsciously adjusted to a more comfortable posture, but doing so actually brought him even closer to Zhou Chenyu.

Juezhou had unfastened two buttons of his shirt earlier, revealing his exquisite and beautiful collarbones. The warm, moist breath exhaled by Zhou Chenyu as he spoke in a low voice landed on his collarbones and the crook of his neck: “Don’t squirm. I’m livestreaming.”

On the light-link screen, more than half was the game interface, and a small part was filming the position of the keyboard. Because the young man’s hands had left the keyboard for too long, the bullet screen was full of people asking what Zhou Chenyu was doing.

A light resistance shouldn’t be noticed by the viewers on the other end of the livestream, right?

Juezhou wanted to leave Zhou Chenyu’s embrace, but his arch-rival—who knew his weaknesses well—easily detected it. His fingertips lifted the hem of Juezhou’s top and reached inside.

Just by tracing the rising and falling of the waistline along the curve, Juezhou instantly became obedient. His light-colored pupils filled with mist, and his scolding words were suppressed in his throat. Even though he was resistant internally, his movements seemed to be anticipating a further intrusion.

The two were so close that Juezhou could also hear the voice coming from the headphones around Zhou Chenyu’s neck. It was Shi Du’s voice—the refreshing and clean youthful voice was asking in confusion: “Zhou-ge, are you still there?”

Juezhou only thought that there were countless people on the other side of the screen speculating about what was happening on Zhou Chenyu’s end—

His spine suddenly tensed, his toes lightly rubbing against Zhou Chenyu’s leg; his exposed ankles were so thin they looked as if they could be snapped at any moment.

“Mm, still here.” The young man’s voice was as calm as ever. Only someone close to him could detect the boiling, dark obsession hidden beneath the iceberg.

Zhou Chenyu put on his headphones again, and the gloom lingering between his brows dissipated slightly.

His “anxiety-relief agent” was being held tightly in his arms.