I Transmigrated as Cannon Fodder, Only to be Desired by the Dragon King - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: His Fish Son — What on earth?! He said Little Black! His…

The moonlight spilled over the eaves of the Shen residence, landing on the bluestone slabs under the corridor and reflecting Feng Xiuyan’s tall figure.

He leaned against the pillar, the silver patterns on his dark blue robes coated with a cold luster by the moon. However, the way his fingertips toyed with the silver chain on his wrist betrayed a trace of relaxation.

Inside the room, Shen Youqing’s voice chirped incessantly. His vibrant tone was like a small pebble rippling through Feng Xiuyan’s heart, causing the corners of his mouth to curl up involuntarily.

“This guy is a total scumbag! He already has a bunch of wives and kids and still wants to trick the heroine? It’s disgusting!” The boy’s cursing drifted through the door.

The word “scumbag” was like a fine needle, accurately pricking Feng Xiuyan’s nerves. The smile on his face froze instantly, and his brow furrowed sharply.

This word… Qingqing had also shouted it at him when he left in a rage earlier today.

He was about to focus his hearing to listen more—debating whether to enter now or if it was inappropriate given the late hour—when a short gasp of surprise came from inside. It was followed by a dull “thud,” like something heavy hitting the floor.

Feng Xiuyan’s heart sank. All hesitation and concern for propriety were thrown to the wind.

He lunged forward instinctively, pushing the door open and rushing into the room with the chill of the night: “What happened?!”

The candlelight flickered wildly from the sudden draft. His gaze swept the room—Shen Youqing was sitting on the floor, rubbing the back of his head with his brow crumpled into a knot. The neatly made brocade quilt was hanging lopsided off the bed; he had clearly tumbled off while reading.

Feng Xiuyan’s footsteps faltered, and his tensed shoulders relaxed slightly, though the urgency in his voice remained.

“Did you hurt yourself? Where is the pain?” He knelt down, reaching out toward the back of Shen Youqing’s head, his eyes filled with unconcealed worry.

Shen Youqing had just sat up when the door burst open. The loud bang of the door hitting the wall made him jump, momentarily dulling the stinging pain in his skull. Before he could look up, a tall dark shadow darted in like a bolt of lightning.

Before Shen Youqing could even blink, a long, broad palm reached for him. He instinctively shrunk his shoulders and shut his eyes tight, nearly letting out a scream.

But the expected touch didn’t carry a hint of malice. Instead, a large, warm hand gently cradled the back of his head, its warmth and soft pressure protecting the place where he had bumped himself.

Then, a familiar, urgent voice rang in his ear: “Is it hurting?”

“??!!” Shen Youqing was completely dazed.

Feng Xiuyan? Why was he here?

His mind was a mess. Before he could recover, he heard the other man say: “I’ll transfer some spiritual energy to you.”

A cool sensation suddenly spread from the palm against his head. The coolness felt like a small stream, seeping through his scalp into the bruise, bringing a tingling, numbing comfort. The throbbing in his head vanished in an instant.

“Does it still hurt?” Feng Xiuyan asked softly. His breath brushed over the top of Shen Youqing’s head, carrying the crisp, clean scent of ambergris.

Shen Youqing slowly opened his eyes, his nose bumping into warm fabric. He realized then that he was almost entirely encircled in Feng Xiuyan’s arms!

Feng Xiuyan was half-kneeling on the floor, one hand supporting the back of his head and the other wrapped around his back. They were so close that Shen Youqing could see the fragments of moonlight on Feng Xiuyan’s eyelashes. He could even hear the steady thrum of the man’s heartbeat.

Shen Youqing took a small breath and his eyes lit up. He doesn’t smell.

It wasn’t the salty, fishy smell from the seabed earlier that day. Instead, it was a faint scent of ambergris—clear, cold, and warm all at once. It smelled so good it made his brain slow down.

Feng Xiuyan had already noticed the little movements of the boy in his arms. The kid had frozen at first, then his nose had twitched, sniffing his lapel twice like a kitten secretively smelling a treat.

The urgency in Feng Xiuyan’s eyes faded, replaced by a subtle curve at the corners. He tightened his grip slightly, pulling the boy closer. His throat moved as he swallowed; the boy in his arms was soft and warm, making it hard to let go.

Shen Youqing, caught up in the scent, suddenly realized what he was doing. I’m smelling his body scent! Two grown men this close, and I’m doing this…

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and the tips of his ears burned. He scrambled to break free from the embrace. He twisted and turned, but Feng Xiuyan’s arms were steady.

In his struggle, he accidentally grazed Feng Xiuyan’s wrist, touching a patch of warm skin.

“Stop squirming. If you keep rubbing against me, I won’t let go,” Feng Xiuyan said with a hint of a smile in his voice. It landed right in Shen Youqing’s ear, making it turn even redder.

Shen Youqing bit his lip and finally stopped, stiffening his neck and speaking awkwardly: “Let go of me first! The floor is cold… I mean, two men being this close—what does that look like? Let go!”

Feng Xiuyan heard the awkward protest. Though his fingertips lingered on the soft texture of the boy, he obeyed and loosened his grip. But as soon as he let go, he saw Shen Youqing sitting on the cold floor. The ground was chilled by the night dew; the kid had delicate skin, and sitting there any longer might make him sick.

Without a second thought for protests, he hooked an arm around Shen Youqing’s waist and another under his knees, lifting him up in a horizontal carry.

Shen Youqing was just about to stand up when he was suddenly swept off his feet. He gasped, instinctively wrapping his arms around Feng Xiuyan’s neck for fear of falling.

“Ah! What are you doing? Put me down!”

The weight in his arms was light. Feng Xiuyan looked down and met Shen Youqing’s wide, startled eyes. He looked like a frightened little beast, yet he was clinging to his neck. The struggle was, in Feng Xiuyan’s eyes, incredibly cute.

He couldn’t help but curl his lips as he walked steadily toward the bed: “The floor is cold.”

“I can get up myself!” Shen Youqing’s face was beet red. He gave Feng Xiuyan’s back a light, powerless thump. “Who asked you to meddle and carry me! You… you’re doing this on purpose!”

Feng Xiuyan didn’t stop. “If I were doing it on purpose, I wouldn’t have let go of you the first time.”

He placed him gently on the edge of the bed. Before his fingers could even leave Shen Youqing’s waist, the boy pushed him away. Shen Youqing scurried back onto the mattress, muttering: “You’re up to no good anyway!”

Feng Xiuyan chuckled and reached out to brush the dust off the soles of Shen Youqing’s feet. “Whether I’m up to no good, you can see for yourself later. Cover yourself with the quilt first so you don’t catch a cold.”

Shen Youqing felt the anger in his heart soften slightly at the sight of Feng Xiuyan carefully cleaning his feet. He stared at the silver patterns on the man’s hem, trying to find some courage there.

“About what I said before… about trying it out… maybe we should just forget it.”

The smile on Feng Xiuyan’s face vanished. His brow furrowed. “Why?”

Shen Youqing looked up, pinching his own thigh to keep from being mesmerized by that face. “I know everything.”

“You know?” Feng Xiuyan was genuinely confused. Had Qingqing found out about the duckling’s transformation?

Shen Youqing raised his voice: “You have a wife and kids, and you’re still acting like this.”

Feng Xiuyan was stunned. He didn’t know what “wife” meant in this context, but he guessed from the word “kids.” So, Qingqing thought he was married. He quickly explained: “Who told you that? I have no wife. As for the children…”

He paused. He remembered Little Black and the duckling were the ones Shen Youqing had insisted were his “foster sons” back at the villa—calling him the “Little Dad” and himself the “Big Dad.” His ears turned pink.

“As for the children, you can’t even say it!” Shen Youqing grew more certain. “Fine, even if you don’t have a wife, what about the children? Two of them! How do you explain that? They didn’t just pop out of the rocks!”

Feng Xiuyan looked at his huffy expression, his urgency replaced by helpless amusement. This kid was so quick to jump to conclusions. He leaned in and reached for Shen Youqing’s wrist, his voice softening: “When you were in the Dragon Palace today, did you see a child? With slightly tanned skin?”

Shen Youqing blinked. “Yes. Not only did I see him, I heard him call you ‘Father’!” He got angrier. “You’re something else. That kid looks three years old!”

Feng Xiuyan was now certain: he hadn’t recognized Little Black. He sighed with fond helplessness. How can someone be this silly? Silly and adorable.

“Qingqing,” he said slowly, suppressing a smile. “Think back to the villa. What did you feed every day by the pond?”

Shen Youqing was about to snap back, but the question threw him. He frowned. “What are you talking about? Back then, I didn’t even know ‘Little White’ was you.”

Feng Xiuyan raised an eyebrow. “And besides me, what else was in that pond?”

“Besides you, there was Little Black…” Shen Youqing’s voice trailed off. He froze. He looked up at Feng Xiuyan, his pupils dilated in disbelief. A fish and a child… they couldn’t be the same, right?

Feng Xiuyan watched the shock play across his face. He nodded slowly and firmly. “Yes. Little Black… he transformed.”

Even though he had a hunch, hearing the truth made Shen Youqing gasp.

What?! He said Little Black! His fish son! Had transformed into a human child?!!

Holy crap!!