I, A Loyal Dog, Awaken to My Fate as Cannon Fodder - Chapter 12

Shen Yinan’s eyes did not dare to wander; peeking was never an honorable act to begin with. The sound of fabric rubbing against fabric reached her ears, making her even more afraid to look around.

Being squeezed into a corner with her young mistress, secretly doing something “bad” together—if they were caught, it would surely be a social death. Paradoxically, a sliver of startling joy welled up in her heart, though she kept her expression neutral.

The alcohol content of the cocktail was high, and by now, the buzz was starting to hit Cheng Wanqiu.

“Shen Yinan, do you want to be discovered?” Cheng Wanqiu whispered softly into Shen Yinan’s ear.

Do I want to be discovered?

Shocked that her inner thoughts had been guessed, Shen Yinan’s pupils dilated. She immediately lowered her head to look at her mistress. The look in those eyes was clearly the blurred haze of intoxication.

Shen Yinan felt relieved. She didn’t dare answer; wanting it was one thing, but actually being caught was another.

Cheng Wanqiu turned her head to look at the two people putting on their bathrobes, then turned back. Shen Yinan was stared down by those mist-covered eyes, unable to fathom what Cheng Wanqiu was thinking. What could someone think when they were drunk?

Shen Yinan only knew that if they moved anymore, they would be in grave danger.

“Miss, stop moving.”

Inadvertently, Shen Yinan caught a glimpse of the short-haired woman outside, who was getting dressed, glancing toward their direction. At that moment, Shen Yinan’s nerves tightened throughout her entire body.

She couldn’t care about anything else. Her bathrobe was completely open, merely hanging off her frame. In a desperate move to hide, she squeezed her hand through the narrow gap, pressed the back of Cheng Wanqiu’s head, and pulled it toward her own shoulder.

It was an almost domineering gesture. The cord tying her bathrobe fell, coiling over their bare feet. The rise and fall of her chest was visible.

Breathing in the cold scent of cedar, Cheng Wanqiu rested her head on Shen Yinan’s shoulder for a nap. The white, smooth shoulder bone wasn’t particularly uncomfortable; leaning on it even made one want to take a bite.

Did the Mistress just fall asleep like this?

The sound of steady breathing was amplified in Shen Yinan’s ears, sounding as if it were being exhaled directly against her. It felt as though the entire dressing room was filled with the Mistress’s “snoring,” and she feared the two people outside would hear.

“Miss, oh Miss… you are truly making things difficult for me.”

The people outside left.

She heard the “click” of the dressing room door closing, and the room became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. That “huge” sound of breathing also returned to normal in Shen Yinan’s ears—a very faint sound that could only be heard if one listened closely.

Cheng Wanqiu now had her arms around Shen Yinan’s neck, her tired head resting on her shoulder. She murmured, “Shen Yinan, I’m tired.”

That inherent laziness was something no one could imitate. Cheng Wanqiu was like a cat; even her drunken state was charming. In Shen Yinan’s eyes, Cheng Wanqiu’s cheeks were flushed with a slight glow, and her breath carried the sweet scent of mint and lemon. Her hands remained around her neck, never quite still.

“If Miss is tired, let’s go back to the suite to sleep.”

Cold fingers brushed against the back of her neck, traveling from her throat to her shoulder, and then down her back. Shen Yinan, panicked, immediately grabbed that restless hand. “Miss, weren’t you drunk?”

Caught red-handed, Cheng Wanqiu remained leaning on Shen Yinan’s shoulder, a playful, teasing smile in her eyes.

“Being drunk makes it easier to get things done, Shen-doggy.”

“Get… get things done?”

Cheng Wanqiu wasn’t just teasing Shen Yinan; she was testing her.

“Miss is truly joking. After soaking in the hot spring, let’s go back to the suite to rest.”

Shen Yinan released Cheng Wanqiu’s hand and fled from the narrow gap in a state of slight panic. She stepped out, the lights of the dressing room making her face appear deathly pale. She pulled the open bathrobe together with both hands and wrapped it tight again.

Her back looked pitiful yet forced into a display of strength—a figure that seemed as though she would fall with a single push, weak and helpless, inviting pity. Just like one would pity a stray dog.

Cheng Wanqiu picked up the bathrobe cord Shen Yinan had dropped on the floor and walked over. Sensing the footsteps behind her, Shen Yinan’s sensitive ears twitched. She stood still, knowing the Mistress pitied her, was no longer teasing her, and was finished testing her. She felt at ease.

“Shen Yinan, I am drunk, but what I said was the truth.”

Once the bathrobe was tied with the cord, she no longer needed her hands to hold it together. Shen Yinan’s hands slowly dropped from the fabric.

“…”

Shen Yinan pursed her lips, saying nothing.

Miss, you are the master, and I am the adopted dog.

Your love for me is merely the affection a master has for a pet.

Bringing food to the dorm, warming the bed, being punished by eating mushrooms because of a wrong word, and the dog sleeping on a chair for a week when the master is sick.

None of these things are the feelings of one human for another.

And the Cheng family would never allow a dog to climb onto the master’s shoulders.

The hot spring soak turned out terribly. Cheng Wanqiu only stayed in long enough to warm her body before coming out. Shen Yinan stood by Cheng Wanqiu’s side in her bathrobe, acting as a living storage box for clothes. In her hands was the bathrobe Cheng Wanqiu had just taken off, still holding her warmth.

Before that warmth could dissipate, Cheng Wanqiu emerged from the spring.

“Let’s go back.”

Cheng Wanqiu let down her hair. The bun unraveled into slightly wavy and voluminous tresses. She ran her fingers through it, the scent of shampoo wafting from every strand. Shen Yinan smelled it clearly.

Shen Yinan paused for a moment, then stepped forward with a expressionless face and a dry towel, drying her mistress’s body from head to toe. Finally, she draped the bathrobe over her—a sequence of movements performed thousands of times, a long-established habit.

…

On the way downstairs to the hot drink section of the buffet restaurant, Shen Yinan ran into the woman she had seen kissing in the hot spring earlier—the short-haired one. Their hairstyles were remarkably similar, and their heights weren’t much different.

But one was a formidable figure in the business world, while the other was just a “dog” of a prestigious family.

Shen Yinan was stunned for a moment, wondering how she could run into her here as well. She pretended to be nonchalant and walked over calmly, stopping beside the short-haired woman.

She opened the heated drink cabinet, intending to grab a cup of hot milk and leave, when the woman beside her called out to her—albeit in a peculiar way.

“Was the peeking fun, little friend?”

Shen Yinan’s hand holding the milk paused. With a cup of high-calorie hot chocolate milk in her hand, she didn’t know whether to keep it or put it back. She turned to look at the woman, whose aura was no less imposing than a business tycoon’s, her eyes staring straight at her.

“Was it us peeking? Isn’t it rather that you were first in a public place…”

Shen Yinan didn’t finish the sentence; it was something both understood. From the moment their eyes met in the dressing room, she knew she and the Mistress had been spotted.

“You’re quite interesting.”

Shen Yinan was complimented, but she didn’t wag her tail like a dog receiving praise. Her expression remained composed, neither humble nor arrogant. Those eyes of hers could make one’s skin crawl—chilly and sharp, piercing straight into a person’s heart to glimpse their deepest desires, greed, and fears.

The short-haired woman quickly explained, “I’m not here to catch you. If I wanted to, I would have done it long ago. That lady is your master, isn’t she? A dog of the Cheng family… you’re quite rebellious.”

“The dogs raised by the Cheng family have always been the most obedient and submissive. You, a dog, act more like a master than the master herself.”

Instantly, Shen Yinan’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t foolish enough to ask “Who are you?” This person knew so much about the Cheng family; she clearly had significant ties to them.

“You didn’t come to find me just to say this, did you, Miss?”

“Sigh~ some people will never enjoy the pleasure of being a dog in their entire lives.” The short-haired woman spoke with a sense of pity, looking at Shen Yinan as if looking at a stubborn child.

Shen Yinan didn’t let the woman lead the rhythm. She struck back.

“To think that you, Miss, have even stopped being human. Is being a dog crawling on the ground that much fun? I suppose you’d wag your tail for a single bone.”

This was a rare instance of Shen Yinan’s words having thorns. She wasn’t a porcupine, but today she certainly resembled a prickly one. The “Capybara” who usually didn’t care if it lived or died was angry—even a water hog has a temper!

“You’ve got quite a sharp tongue, kid. I’m just speaking from the perspective of someone who’s been there, offering a kind warning.”

“Your mistress likes you so much; don’t go breaking her heart.”

The short-haired woman walked away. Shen Yinan bit her tongue, looking at the woman with a sinister gaze. She was petty; she would retaliate against anyone who dared to bully her people. Only after the woman completely vanished around the corner did she withdraw her gaze, the malice in her eyes disappearing instantly.

To an outsider, it just looked like a well-behaved young girl talking to an older stranger, politely seeing her off.

Carrying the hot milk, she headed up to the three-story Japanese-style cottage. She slid open the very traditional sliding door. Tatami mats covered the entire room, with a futon of a contrasting color laid in the center.

Shen Yinan took off her shoes at the door and stepped over the small threshold barefoot. The hot milk in her hand was still steaming. Drinking this high-calorie chocolate milk at night would surely result in extra weight by morning.

Cheng Wanqiu had already anticipated this, so she suggested they share the cup. Shen Yinan had brought two straws.

“Miss, I’m back.”

Cheng Wanqiu propped herself up on her elbow and glanced at Shen Yinan. Seeing the hot milk in her hand, she suddenly looked like a cat that had found cream, becoming excited.

“Quick, come here! Shen Yinan, you made me wait so long.”

She wasn’t excited because of the milk, but because she was sharing it with Shen Yinan. Even if they weren’t using the same straw, it still counted as an indirect kiss, didn’t it?

“Shen Yinan, you drink first.”

Cheng Wanqiu’s straightforward eyes watched Shen Yinan, her gaze practically sparkling, neither knowing how to hide her feelings nor needing to.

“Give me what’s left after you’ve had some. I know you don’t like eating other people’s leftovers.”

Shen Yinan hesitated with the cup. Seeing Cheng Wanqiu’s serious gaze, which didn’t seem to be lying, she put down one straw and took only a single sip.

Under Cheng Wanqiu’s starry-eyed gaze, she awkwardly pulled the straw out. Her hand instinctively wiped the straw she had used, fearing the “villain” would use her discarded straw to share an indirect kiss.

No need to name names; Cheng Wanqiu was the only one who would do something so blatant. She simply liked Shen Yinan.

“Miss… the milk.”

Cheng Wanqiu looked away disappointedly. She held out her hand, asking Shen Yinan to give it to her. What she didn’t know was that Shen Yinan had prepared two straws.

Shen Yinan personally placed the unused straw into the milk cup and whispered concernedly, “Miss, drink up.”

She kept the straw she had used clutched in her hand.

Cheng Wanqiu glanced at Shen Yinan, then lowered her head dejectedly to drink the hot milk. In Shen Yinan’s eyes, this side of the Mistress—being the one teased for once—was truly adorable.

A nearly imperceptible smile curled at the corner of her lips.