I Transmigrated as Cannon Fodder, Only to be Desired by the Dragon King - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Starting Off on Vacation

He is now dead-set on harassing this fish…

The autumn wind carried a hint of crispness, threading through the carved window lattices and slicing the skylight into fine checkered patterns that fell upon Shen Youqing.

He leaned against the mottled vermilion window sill, his robe half-open. A gust of wind lifted the fabric, revealing skin at his neck as delicate as fine porcelain. Framed against the yellowing ginkgo leaves outside, he possessed an ethereal nobility that seemed detached from the mortal world.

The wind suddenly quickened, further messing up the hair half-tied in his hairband. A few stray strands drifted across his face, one catching on his eyelashes and itching until Shen Youqing blinked abruptly.

As his lashes lowered, they cast faint shadows beneath his eyes; when he opened them, they remained clouded with the haze of unfinished sleep. Yet, as his gaze shifted, a lazy vitality emerged—he looked less like a disciplined young master of a noble house and more like a cat that had just basked itself awake.

He was truly striking. His skin was as white as a freshly peeled egg, glowing faintly under the sun. His lips bore a natural crimson hue, looking like a half-melted cherry when pursed. The corners of his eyes tilted slightly upward—a look others might call “sultry,” yet his eyes were so clear and bright that he appeared purely spirited instead.

Even with messy hair stuck to his face, he didn’t look disheveled; the chaos added a touch of grounded charm, unlike the stiff, meticulous young lords described in books.

“Ugh, almost overslept,” Shen Youqing sighed, tilting his head back. His neck formed a smooth, taut curve, and his jawline gleamed cold and white in the sunlight.

The clouds at the horizon were a chaotic mess of sunset colors, looking like a spilled palette before the wind faded them into a chilly clarity.

Shen Youqing never expected that after pulling three consecutive all-nighters to finish a project, he wouldn’t receive a bonus, but rather a sudden death and transmigration.

He had been here for three days, acting every day as a “Shen Youqing” who shared his name and face. The only difference was that this original body was younger, looking like his seventeen or eighteen-year-old high school self.

In both the ancient and modern worlds, anyone hearing the name “Shen Youqing” would assume the person was serene and refined. But that definitely described the original Shen Youqing, not him!

To avoid being exposed by the locals, he even mimicked the original’s slow, leisurely gait. He feared every look or word might reveal the secret—that the soul inside this skin had long since been swapped.

On the surface, he was the aloof, elegant young Master Shen, capable of sitting with a tea cup all afternoon looking perfectly composed. Internally, however, Shen Youqing had “panicking intensely” etched into his DNA.

He hadn’t read those web novels for nothing; “cannon fodder” characters usually died from talking too much, doing too much, or being too curious. He now lived by three rules:

1. Watch your words.
2. Mind your own business.
3. Make the best of things (mostly because he didn’t dare do otherwise).

Consequently, after three days, he hadn’t even grasped the basic state of this era. He had only gleaned scraps of information from the family’s idle chatter. This place was called the “Gulang Dynasty,” a period non-existent in the history of his original world.

Shen Youqing understood—this was a “fictional history” setting, just like in the novels. Despite being fictional, life was similar to period dramas: bluestone roads, flying eaves, horse-drawn carriages, and shops selling unfamiliar pastries. The air even carried a faint scent of sandalwood mixed with the freshness of greenery.

Propping himself up on the edge of the daybed, Shen Youqing used his fingers to haphazardly untangle the hair clumped by the wind. Just as he cleared it, a draft swept the strands back against his cheek. He hissed, muttering, “These ancient hairbands are useless. A hair tie would be way more practical.”

Twirling the embroidered silk ribbon with his lily-white fingers, he silently gave a thumbs-up to modern industry—mass-produced goods were truly more reliable.

He stood up, smoothed the creases on his robe, and walked slowly toward the courtyard in his soft-soled shoes.

The place he was staying was now quite far from the bustling capital. It was a stroke of luck, really. When he first arrived, he was in the grand Shen estate in the capital, trembling as he bluffed his way through two days with a house full of wealthy relatives.

By the dawn of the third day, his “cheap” (convenient) grandfather had packed him into a carriage and sent him here. It wasn’t too far—about twenty li (roughly 10km), a two-hour bumpy carriage ride.

The Shen family was a prominent, wealthy clan in the capital. Though they were merchants, generations of business had not only amassed a staggering fortune but also allowed them to establish secret ties with officials. Their mansion sat on Gumo Street—the most expensive area in the capital, inhabited by royalty and high-ranking ministers. To own land there was a testament to a wealth that ordinary merchants couldn’t dream of.

Furthermore, the Shen family owned several villas in the suburbs. The one he was currently at was the closest to the capital. It was massive, with several independent courtyards and acres of lush farmland surrounding it. Shen Youqing was placed in the largest courtyard. According to the servants, people rarely came here except to escape the summer heat.

The courtyard wasn’t desolate. It was staffed with servants who cleaned, managed the grounds, and grew seasonal vegetables, keeping everything in perfect order.

Shen Youqing walked to the center of the courtyard, crossed his arms, and spun around. His gaze swept over the moon gate covered in vines, the birdcage under the eaves, the autumn chrysanthemums blooming in the corner, and finally landed on a lush old locust tree. His lips curled up.

With genuine joy in his eyes, he nodded in satisfaction. “Not bad, not bad. Away from the drama, with a huge yard all to myself—it’s like I’m here on vacation.”

Just as he was happily planning how to slack off for the next few days, he caught sight of a small pond in the middle of the yard. The water was emerald green and clear, with fallen locust leaves rippling on the surface. He paused and walked over with interest.

Leaning over the edge, he saw that the water was so clear he could see the bluestone slabs and fine sand at the bottom. It was much cleaner than he expected.

In the water, a lone small fish swam leisurely, swishing its tail. He raised an eyebrow and greeted the water loudly: “Hello, Little Fish. We’re neighbors now, okay?”

The fish seemed startled by the sudden voice and paused for two seconds. Whether it truly understood the beautiful youth or not, it suddenly flicked its flowing, silk-like tail and swam to a far corner of the pond, distancing itself from him.

Shen Youqing saw it more clearly now. The fish was about the size of a palm, snow-white all over, with only the edges of its tail tinted a faint pink. As it moved, its fins spread out like high-quality silk, shimmering under the sunlight. The scales reflected silver light like crushed stars in the water.

“Oh? You’re shy?”

Shen Youqing chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. He shuffled over to the corner where the fish was hiding, put his hands on his hips like a neighborhood bully, and blocked the light over the water. “Hehe, nowhere to run now.”

The little fish slowly looked up at the boy. He was strikingly beautiful—fair skin, red lips—and even his “bully” pose had an undeniable charm. To the fish, his aggressive act probably looked more like a kitten baring its claws—zero intimidation.

It paused, then slowly flicked its tail to swim away again. Shen Youqing followed, his feet tapping lightly on the stones like a game of hide-and-seek.

The fish: “…”

It hesitated for a second, then did a sharp U-turn, its tail swishing rapidly.

“Hey, hey! Don’t run!” Shen Youqing immediately gave chase, his voice full of playful whining. “Talk to me! Don’t be so cold…”

He was now dead-set on harassing this fish that was ignoring him.

“Look, I just got here. I’m a stranger in a strange land with no one to talk to,” he babbled as he chased it, sounding like a child looking for a playmate. “Finally, I find a living creature, and you keep dodging me… I’m telling you, the koi I used to feed at my old office were way more enthusiastic than you…”

In a few moments, he caught up to the circling fish again. Seeing it finally stop in the center of the pond, Shen Youqing immediately hiked up his robes and squatted by the edge. He propped his chin in his hand, eyes sparkling as he stared at the fish, his mouth still running.

“You’re a fish. Don’t you get bored swimming back and forth all day? How about I find some string and ‘fish’ you up for a chat? Don’t worry, I won’t use a hook…”

The little fish seemed stunned by this relentless chatter and hung motionless below the surface. Only the tip of its tail twitched occasionally, as if it were silently rolling its eyes.

Perhaps the fish was tired, or perhaps it simply couldn’t be bothered to play chase with this clingy boy anymore, because it finally stayed still. It hovered less than a meter away from where Shen Youqing was squatting, its beautiful long tail swaying as if it were looking back at him.

The sunlight made its silver-white scales look even more transparent, highlighting the faint pink on its fins. Just as Shen Youqing was about to smile and say something, the fish suddenly flicked its tail.

The movement was crisp and almost heartless. Whoosh—it dived into the underwater weeds and vanished, leaving only ripples behind.

“Aw, why ignoring me again? You’re so chicken.” The smile on Shen Youqing’s face instantly collapsed.

He stared at the swaying shadows of the weeds, feeling like the force of that final tail-flick carried a hint of disdain. It felt as if the fish were looking down on him, treating him like some smooth-talking drifter trying to scam an innocent fish.

Shen Youqing scratched his wind-mussed hair and grumbled to the empty water.

“I wasn’t lying…” he said, sounding a bit aggrieved. “I’m a good guy. I never lie to fish.”

Realizing how ridiculous he looked, he pursed his lips at the still water and sat down on the stone bank. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he continued to argue with the air: “What are you hiding for? It’s not like I can jump in and catch you…”

“Besides, what would I do with you? Keep you in a bowl just to listen to me ramble?”

The weeds at the bottom shifted slightly, but there was no further movement.