I Transmigrated as Cannon Fodder, Only to be Desired by the Dragon King - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Back to Square One

He wailed in his heart. This wasn’t “honing one’s character,” it was…

Sunlight flowed over the window lattices like melted honey, soaking the grey brick floor in a warm, amber glow. The morning chill that had clung to the eaves was baked away by this warmth, receding silently like a low tide.

Suddenly, a series of urgent knocks—thump, thump, thump—shattered the tranquility of the room.

Shen Youqing stirred beneath his brocade quilt. His eyelashes fluttered several times before opening a sliver, his gaze landing blankly on the lotus patterns carved into the bed’s canopy. The grain of the red sandalwood shimmered with a pale gold light in the morning sun. He stared at a half-bloomed petal for a long while, his brain feeling as though it were stuffed with water-logged cotton; in his daze, he couldn’t tell what year it was.

“Mm…” A low groan escaped his throat as he slowly propped himself up.

The quilt slid from his shoulders, revealing a moon-white inner robe with slight creases near the collar from sleep. Who would come at this hour? He frowned, rubbing his temples.

“What is it?” When he spoke, his voice was thick with the rasp of sleep, like sandpaper lightly rubbing together.

A servant’s respectful voice immediately came from outside the door, hushed with deliberate caution: “Young Master, there are distinguished guests visiting.”

“Distinguished guests?” Shen Youqing’s brows furrowed, and his sleepy eyes instantly cleared.

He sat up straight, the quilt sliding to his waist to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbones. The original owner of this body was arrogant and aloof by nature; in his memories, there were no close friends to speak of. He had only arrived at the villa yesterday—who on earth would come looking for him so early in the morning?

He didn’t dare delay. Tossing the quilt aside, he climbed out of bed. He grabbed his outer robe from the screen and threw it on; the lapels weren’t even aligned, and the sash ended up in a tangled knot behind his back, but he didn’t have time to fix it. Cold water from the copper basin splashed onto his sleeves as he wiped his face. The icy touch chased away the last of his drowsiness, and he turned toward the door.

After a few steps, a strand of hair slid from behind his ear, brushing his cheek with a slight itch. He froze, looking down at his chest. A mass of long, black hair swayed with his movements, the ends still damp with a few droplets of water.

“Crap.”

He cursed under his breath. He had forgotten that he was now a long-haired man, and going out required styling. As he tilted his head, his hair acted like an open floodgate, cascading down like a waterfall. The dark torrent swept over his shoulders and covered half his face, turning his vision pitch black.

“Tsk, what a pain.”

He grabbed the hair in front of his face and tried to sweep it back, but the original owner’s hair quality was simply too good—it was so silky it refused to stay put. After several failed attempts, he simply gathered a handful, pulled it all to the back of his head, grabbed a hairband from the bedpost, and wound it around several times into a messy knot. He gave the ends a tug to make sure it wouldn’t unravel, stepped into his shoes, and hurried to the door.

As he pulled the door open, the morning light hit his face at an angle, making his eyes look as bright as tempered glass.

The servant waiting outside bowed and led the way. “Young Master, the guests are waiting in the reception hall.”

Guests? Plural? Was there more than one person looking for him?

Confused, Shen Youqing followed the servant through the corridor toward the hall. As he turned the corner, he saw the carved doors of the reception hall half-open, with figures shifting inside. He slowed down, inching forward to peek through the doorframe.

He estimated there were three or four people.

“Crap, so many people.” He quickly lowered his head, wiping the thin sweat from his palms onto his sleeves. The panic he had just suppressed flared up again, like a trapped rabbit thumping in his chest.

In the original owner’s memory, this villa was always quiet. At most, a few servants came by daily to clean. He had never seen such a scene. He instinctively pulled his foot back. His hairband loosened again, letting a few strands fall over his eyes. He could feel the gazes from inside drifting toward the door, scanning him like searchlights.

“Young Master?” the servant behind him whispered, sounding puzzled.

“It’s nothing.” Shen Youqing took a deep breath and tucked his hair behind his ears. He steadied himself, straightened his back, and walked into the hall. His footsteps made a clear tap-tap on the bluestone floor, sounding exceptionally loud in the eerie silence.

As he glanced inside, his eyes met those of a youth sitting in the primary seat—a large pear-wood armchair. It was a chair meant for elders, but the youth was leaning back, occupying most of it, one long leg draped casually over the armrest. The hem of his vermilion robe swept across the cushioned footstool, giving him an air of effortless leisure that surpassed the usual stiff etiquette.

By the round table near the window sat two young women. The one in the moon-white dress looked up; when her gaze fell on him, she gave a slight nod and a smile. On the other side, another youth stood by a curio shelf holding a book, though his gaze drifted toward the door.

Shen Youqing’s heart skipped a beat, and his breathing became unsteady. The threshold of the reception hall was higher than elsewhere; as he stepped over it, the hairband loosened further, and more strands slid down to dangle before his eyes.

Just as he was about to tuck them back, he heard a slight movement in the hall. The low chatter ceased, and every pair of eyes landed squarely on him. There was admiration, curiosity, and undisguised scrutiny in those gazes, pricking him like fine needles.

He instinctively gripped his sleeves, his fingertips touching the damp fabric from earlier. The cold sensation helped him focus. He cleared his throat, his voice still holding a trace of sleep-haze. “Are you… looking for my grandfather? He isn’t here.”

The moment he spoke, he felt his tone was too stiff, like an unheated stone. He stole a glance around. The men and women in the hall were all wearing expensive silks and satins, and the tea on the table was steaming. This villa belonged to the Shens, and the Old Master was the head of the house—but Shen Youqing had only arrived yesterday. Logically, there was no reason for these people to be looking for him.

He frantically flipped through the original owner’s memories, but the fragments were like a broken puzzle; no matter how he fit them together, he couldn’t place these faces. Only one or two looked vaguely familiar, as if he’d seen them at a banquet as a child, but he couldn’t remember who they were.

“No,” a gentle female voice broke the silence.

Shen Youqing looked over. The woman in the moon-white dress was sitting with perfect poise, her outfit embroidered with pale purple orchids that complemented her refined features. A slight smile played on her lips—she was the one who had smiled at him earlier.

“You must be little Youqing? My father is the Grand Tutor; my name is Yuan Yajun. We met when we were children. You were so small then—I didn’t expect you to grow up to be so handsome.”

As she spoke, she gestured with her hand to a height about her waist, the smile in her eyes deepening.

“…” Shen Youqing’s expression stiffened.

Wait, this girl looked about the same age as the original owner. Why did she call him “little Youqing” the moment she opened her mouth? And she said they met as children? He had searched every corner of the original’s memory and found nothing related to this Yuan Yajun. Had the original owner’s memory been so bad that he forgot someone like her?

His thoughts were racing, but he didn’t dare let it show. He mimicked the original’s manner and gave a slight nod. “Miss Yuan is too kind. It has been a long time; please forgive my rudeness for not recognizing you immediately.”

As soon as he finished, a girl in a pink dress sitting next to Yuan Yajun burst out laughing. “Young Master Shen’s memory really is poor! Back at the Taiye Pond, you even snatched Sister Yajun’s candied haws.”

!!??

Shen Youqing: “…”

How come he didn’t know the original owner had a dark history of stealing a girl’s snacks?

Just as he was wondering how to respond, Yuan Yajun gave the girl in pink a reproachful look. She turned back to him with a smile. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. You were young then, just a bit greedy for sweets. We came today at your grandfather’s request to see if you are adjusting well to living at the villa.”

The girl in pink looked confused and opened her mouth to say something, but Yuan Yajun gave her a subtle glance. The words died in the girl’s throat.

“Grandfather’s request?” Shen Youqing froze, his brow furrowing. The old man never liked the original owner mingling too much with the noble children of the capital. Why would he suddenly allow people to visit the villa? Especially under the guise of “checking in” on him.

As if seeing through his confusion, Yuan Yajun spoke softly, “It just so happens we have nothing to do in the capital and were feeling bored. Our elders said it’s unseemly to stay cooped up in our estates all day and that we should come out to ‘hone our character.'”

She paused, the smile at the corners of her eyes curving deeper. “So, we are all going to stay at this villa. For the next month, we’ll be bothering you, little Youqing.”

“Stay here?” Shen Youqing’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. He thought he had misheard. He scanned the room.

The man in the vermilion robe was looking at him with a half-smile; the man in purple paused while flipping his book. Even the girl in pink was staring at him with curious eyes.

This room full of people… wanted to live here for a month? His head began to throb.

While the villa was quite large, with three courtyards and side wings enough to fit twenty people, the thought of living and eating with this group for the next thirty days sent a chill down his spine.

It was as if he’d been struck by lightning. He’d only had one day of freedom, and now he was back to square one?!

A whole month.

He wailed in his heart. This wasn’t “honing one’s character,” it was honing him!

He struggled to find his voice. “Grandfather… he agreed?”

Yuan Yajun nodded beamingly and took a plain letter from her sleeve. “This is a letter written by Old Master Shen himself. You’ll understand once you read it.”

Shen Youqing took the letter and scanned it. Not only had the old man agreed, but he had specifically instructed Shen Youqing to take good care of them and not be negligent!

Great.

His beautiful vacation had ended before it even began. Now, he didn’t just have to serve one fish—he had to serve four young lords and ladies as well.