I Transmigrated as Cannon Fodder, Only to be Desired by the Dragon King - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Are You Worried About Me? — Feng Xiuyan’s Adam’s apple rolled slightly…

Suddenly singled out by the Dragon King, the four people sitting in the pavilion flinched as if by reflex. Not even daring to take another sip of tea, they scrambled to their feet.

Yuan Yajun was the first to speak, her tone hurried: “It’s indeed time for us to leave.”

Shen Youqing looked at Feng Xiuyan in disbelief, then quickly turned back to smile at the group, reaching out as if to stop them. “Don’t go! You haven’t even warmed the stools yet. Stay a bit longer!”

But as soon as he finished, Su Yao nodded, her tone respectfully firm: “Thank you for the hospitality today, Youqing. We truly have things to attend to, so we’ll be heading off.”

As they spoke, they made sure to perform a proper, formal bow to Feng Xiuyan. It didn’t look like friends visiting; it looked like subordinates taking leave of a superior. They then beat a hasty retreat out of the courtyard.

“Sigh… why are they all in such a rush?” Shen Youqing watched the empty gate and sighed helplessly. He turned back, frowning, and gave Feng Xiuyan a look of reproach. “How could you chase away my guests so blatantly? It’s so rude.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping instinctively. “We’re living in the same manor; we’re going to see each other all the time. Besides, their identities aren’t simple.”

“Do you know? One of them is the Third Prince, Li Beicheng! You know how princes are—proud and difficult to get along with. By telling them to leave so bluntly, aren’t you afraid of offending him? What if he holds a grudge and looks for trouble later?”

Shen Youqing’s mouth went patter-patter-patter, going on about the risks of offending the powerful and the proper etiquette of neighborly relations. He only realized he’d been rambling after a long while and stopped to scratch his head. “Sorry… I talk too much.”

Back in the modern world, his chatterbox nature was a bit unpopular; his friends were always afraid of him starting a topic because he could never stop.

Feng Xiuyan listened quietly to the whole thing. His initial annoyance gradually shifted into a different realization. Once Shen Youqing finally finished, Feng Xiuyan walked to the table, poured a cup of lukewarm tea, and handed it over. His voice was much softer than before: “After all that talking, your throat must be dry. Have some water.”

“Th-thank you.” Shen Youqing took the cup, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. This man had been lectured by him for ages, yet instead of getting angry, he’d actually poured him water. He was nothing like the people back home who used to complain about his talking.

He held the cup with both hands, lowering his head to sip, but his eyes kept sneaking glances upward. Every time his gaze met Feng Xiuyan’s, he’d duck his head back down in guilt.

Feng Xiuyan watched these little movements. The coldness in his eyes dissipated, and the corners of his mouth tugged upward. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a gentle, teasing murmur: “Are you worried about me?”

Shen Youqing’s sipping stopped abruptly, nearly causing him to choke. He looked up, stammering a defense: “I… I just think there’s no need to make enemies… besides, you were in the wrong. You don’t know how to handle social situations. It’s easy to offend people out in the world.”

He paused, then added quickly: “And… don’t think I’m nagging. I only say this because I see you as a friend…”

“A friend?” Feng Xiuyan’s body stiffened. A flash of bewilderment crossed his misty-blue eyes.

This kid only sees me as a friend? Was he truly oblivious to his feelings, or was he playing hard to get?

Seeing no reaction, Shen Youqing worried he’d overstepped. “Yeah! Why? Don’t you see me as a friend?!”

Feng Xiuyan’s Adam’s apple rolled slightly as he made a compromising concession: “Fine. Friends for now.”

Whatever. If the kid wants to play, I’ll play along. The one-month assessment period would be over in a heartbeat anyway. When the time came for the candidates to report their duties, Shen Youqing wouldn’t be able to pretend he didn’t know his identity anymore.

Shen Youqing didn’t overthink it. He stared at Feng Xiuyan’s profile for a few seconds, then waved a hand in front of the man’s eyes. He hadn’t looked closely before, but now he noticed that Feng Xiuyan’s eyes had a faint, hazy blue tint in the sunlight.

He clicked his tongue in satisfaction, completely ignoring the “for now” part of the friendship deal. “At least you know what’s good for you!”

By his count, this was his first real friend since crossing over. He’d thought he could be friends with Wen Shubai, but since that one day, Wen Shubai had kept a respectful distance. He suspected he’d rambled too much during their drinking session. Wen Shubai seemed like someone who enjoyed peace and quiet. Sigh, I guess we aren’t the same type of person.

He’d been a bit sad about that for a whole day—after all, a chatterbox can’t survive without someone to talk to. He looked at Feng Xiuyan and grew more satisfied. This guy didn’t mind his talking, was helpful, and was super handsome! Yeah, this friendship was a keeper.

…

The Great Dragon King, Feng Xiuyan, was currently squatting awkwardly under the parasol tree in the corner of the yard… building a duck coop.

Shen Youqing didn’t notice his embarrassment. He sat next to him with an empty wooden bucket, lining the bottom with an old piece of clothing. He then found an old bamboo hat from somewhere and placed it askew over the bucket, its brim drooping to cover the opening like a tiny house.

“OK! Perfectly done!” Shen Youqing clapped his hands and stood up, circling the bucket with his hands on his hips, eyes full of pride. This makeshift coop was windproof and soft; the duckling would surely be cozy.

Feng Xiuyan looked at the kicking, quacking duckling in his hand. He applied a tiny bit of pressure before immediately lightening it, then dropped it—not exactly gently, but without causing harm—into the bucket. The duck landed on the soft clothes, flapped twice, and then surprisingly huddled down at the bottom, letting out only the occasional weak quack.

“Little ducky, you’ll have to make do for now,” Shen Youqing leaned over to poke the duckling’s back. “Tomorrow, we’ll build you a big villa that’s ten times better than this bucket!”

“We?” Feng Xiuyan paused while straightening up, his brow arching. When had he agreed to build a duck coop?

“Yeah!” Shen Youqing turned to him, his eyes sparkling with a pre-planned scheme. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the back mountain and cut some bamboo together.” He paused, then asked curiously, “By the way, do you know how to build a pen? You know, the kind with a little roof to keep the rain out.”

“I do not,” Feng Xiuyan replied almost instantly. He managed the aquatic tribes of the Dragon Palace and dictated the rules of rainfall for the human world. How could he possibly know the manual labor of a mortal farmer?

“Oh. It’s okay.” Shen Youqing’s expression slumped slightly, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. But it quickly brightened again as he patted Feng Xiuyan’s arm. “I’ll teach you tomorrow! It’s not hard; we’ll just figure it out as we go.”

Feng Xiuyan was truly shocked this time, his blue eyes wide. “You know how?”

Shen Youqing shook his head with total honesty, his tone remarkably righteous: “No.”

Feng Xiuyan: “…”

He stared at Shen Youqing’s shamelessly confident face, speechless for a long moment.

Seeing his silence, Shen Youqing explained: “I’ve never built one, but I saw people do it back on Dou… back in my hometown! I have a general idea. Tomorrow we’ll find some bamboo for the frame and cover it with straw. It’ll definitely work!”

Afraid Feng Xiuyan would refuse, he tugged at the man’s sleeve, his voice softening. “Just think of it as playing with me. Once the pen is built, the duckling will have a home and won’t freeze at night.”

Feng Xiuyan looked at the hand on his sleeve, then at the expectation in Shen Youqing’s eyes. He finally couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. “…Fine.”

…

The Next Day.

Shen Youqing squatted by the pond with the fish food jar, feeding Little White, Little Black, and the new member, the duckling.

“Little ducky, eat up. After you’re done, play with Little White and Little Black. I’m going to the mountain with your Big Dad to cut bamboo for your house.”

He reached out to rub the duckling’s head; it felt soft and fuzzy. Feng Xiuyan is tall and seems a bit older than me, so he can be Big Dad. Sigh, I’m short, so I can only be Little Dad.

The duckling tilted its head, pecked at the spiritual food, and flapped its wings as if in response.

Feng Xiuyan (in the water): What Big Dad and Little Dad? The kid is talking nonsense I can’t understand again.

Shen Youqing poked the water’s surface. “Little ducky, be good. You can’t bully Little Black, and you definitely can’t harass Little White. Little White is the landlord; if you make him unhappy, he won’t leave you any room to swim.”

He amused himself with that thought and laughed for a while before looking back at Little White. “Little White, I’m heading out. Keep an eye on the duckling for me. Also, be careful yourself—don’t let him eat you.”

The duckling was far too small to swallow fish as big as them; he was just teasing. With that, he picked up his machete and the bamboo basket leaning by the door and headed toward the back mountain.

In the pond, Feng Xiuyan watched the boy’s silhouette disappear. His silver scales shimmered, his eyes full of helpless resignation. He glanced at the duckling, which was currently chasing Little Black, and then at Little Black, who was eating happily and already showing faint signs of spiritual essence. This stupid fish… eating my spiritual food every day, it’s actually starting to develop intelligence.

Feng Xiuyan took a deep breath. If it weren’t for the fact that the boy liked them, this wild duck and stupid fish would have been tossed out of the pond long ago.

He flicked his tail, his form flashing on the water’s surface as he turned into a silvery light, silently heading toward the back mountain. Now was not the time to be grumpy; he had to hurry to the stone steps to meet the kid for their “date.”