I Transmigrated as Cannon Fodder, Only to be Desired by the Dragon King - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Meeting the Parents?? Seeing this spectacle, Shen Youqing, who was standing by…

The next morning.

A few streaks of pale gold leaked through the cracks in the window, landing gently on the brocade quilt of the bed, rubbing the scent of last night’s candlelight into the sweet fragrance of honey-locust soap.

Feng Xiuyan was awakened by the morning light, a rare moment of peace undisturbed by the affairs of the Dragon Palace. Upon opening his eyes, he felt entirely relaxed. Even his dreams had carried a touch of soft, warm joy, and a smile lingered unconsciously on his lips.

He sat up slowly, his fingertips brushing the bedding that still held a trace of warmth. Only then did he realize with a start that this wasn’t his sleeping quarters in the Dragon Palace, but Qingqing’s bedroom.

His gaze instinctively drifted toward the soft couch.

As expected, Shen Youqing was sprawled across the couch in a chaotic, four-limbed mess, sleeping with zero defenses.

Feng Xiuyan softened his breathing, even slowing his movements as he rose. The boy’s head was tilted on a soft pillow, the stray hairs on his forehead fluttering gently with his breath. One hand hung in the air off the edge of the couch, his fingertips loosely hooked around a half-open storybook.

His legs were splayed out, one draped carelessly over the nearby low table, his pant leg brushing against a fruit plate. Even his sleeping face radiated a casual sort of dorkiness, like a kitten sunning its belly, completely unguarded.

Feng Xiuyan deliberately moved with feline grace, stepping silently to the side of the couch. As he leaned in close, he couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle. There was a faint, damp trace at the corner of Shen Youqing’s mouth.

He first pulled over the thin quilt draped on the edge of the couch, gently wrapping it around Shen Youqing’s splayed body. Then, he carefully pried the boy’s fingers off the storybook and placed it softly on the table. Finally, he lifted the low table away from the boy’s leg, moving as slowly as if he were handling a fragile treasure, terrified that the slightest noise would disturb his good sleep.

Just as he straightened up, a “knock, knock” came from the door—soft but clear.

Disturbed, Shen Youqing let out a mumble and rolled over, death-gripping the thin quilt in his arms like a warm stove tucked between his legs. He buried his head deeper into the pillow, his eyelashes not moving an inch.

Feng Xiuyan’s brow furrowed slightly. He checked that Shen Youqing hadn’t woken up before turning toward the door. Just as his hand touched the latch, he heard Shen Mother’s familiar voice, carrying the warmth of early morning: “Qingqing, Mother has boiled your favorite lotus seed—”

The door creaked open gently. When Mother’s sentence cut off abruptly, her hand nearly losing its grip on the food container. Her eyes went round, and the second half of her sentence turned into a short, sharp gasp.

She stared at the man standing in the doorway. The dark robes accentuated his tall, straight stature. Though the coldness usually found in his eyes was gone, he was unmistakably the Dragon King she had seen in the palace!!

“Dragon… Lord Dragon King? You, how are you…” Shen Mother’s voice trembled. She hadn’t yet recovered from the shock of seeing the Dragon King in her son’s bedroom first thing in the morning.

Feng Xiuyan was about to speak when a muddled voice came from inside the room, soft and waxy with sleep: “Mom… what’s wrong?”

The sound of rustling fabric came from the couch; Shen Youqing was likely rubbing his eyes and waking up. Feng Xiuyan’s words died in his throat. He looked helplessly at the shocked Shen Mother, then back at the couch, a flicker of wry amusement crossing his eyes.

Now, this is going to be even harder to explain.

“You… you two?” Shen Mother’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes darted between Feng Xiuyan and the inner room. The lotus seed soup in the container rippled, its sweetness unable to suppress the stormy waves in her heart.

At that moment, Shen Youqing walked over rubbing his eyes, his hair a messy nest with stray strands sticking to his forehead. His sleeping robes hung loosely on his shoulders, the collar slipping open to reveal a patch of pale skin. He let out a long yawn, a bit of moisture at the corners of his eyes. When he saw Feng Xiuyan at the door, his tone was as natural as a normal morning greeting: “Oh? You’re awake? Did you sleep well last night?”

To Shen Mother’s ears, this was a thunderclap. She nearly dropped the food. Qingqing and the Dragon King… what on earth is going on?

Feng Xiuyan saw the misunderstanding in her eyes. He wanted to explain, but catching sight of Shen Youqing’s oblivious, sleepy state, the words stalled. He looked at the boy’s loose collar and remembered the little scheme of the boy touching his dragon horns last night. A sudden, selfish desire not to clear the air sprouted in his heart.

Regardless, he and Qingqing were to be married sooner or later. This little misunderstanding might serve as an early wake-up call for the Shen family.

So, he didn’t explain. He only gave a soft “Mhm,” stepped aside to make room, and reached out naturally to pull the boy’s loose collar together: “Careful not to catch a cold.”

Shen Youqing didn’t think twice about it. He leaned into the touch and yawned. “Thanks. I stayed up too late reading that book.”

He simply thought Feng Xiuyan was a thoughtful “warm guy.” He didn’t notice that Shen Mother’s gaze had shifted from shock to a complex “I knew it” expression. Such a natural, small interaction in her eyes completely solidified her suspicions.

When Mother squeezed the handle of the food box, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Even with a head full of questions, she couldn’t interrogate them at the door. She forced a natural smile: “S-since you’re both awake, that’s perfect… Mother boiled lotus seed soup and made the crystal buns you like. Let’s go to the dining hall for breakfast together?”

As they headed out, she couldn’t help but steal another glance. The collar Feng Xiuyan had adjusted stayed in place, but the way the boy rubbed his eyes next to the towering Dragon King felt “intimate” in a way that made her heart murmur even more.

At the mention of lotus seed soup and buns, Shen Youqing’s eyes lit up. His sleepiness vanished. He stopped rubbing his eyes, ran a hand through his messy hair, and marched out. “Great! I’m starving!”

He took a few steps and turned to urge Feng Xiuyan, his tone as casual as a dining partner: “Hurry up! My mom’s crystal buns are amazing. If we’re late, my dad will snatch them all!”

Feng Xiuyan watched his joyous retreating back, unable to hide the smile in his eyes. He turned and gave Shen Mother a slight nod, his tone polite and warm: “Thank you for the trouble, Auntie.” He reached out to take the food box from her. “I’ll carry it.”

Shen Mother was stunned by the address “Auntie” and waved her hands. “How could I trouble the Lord Dragon King—”

“Auntie, there is no need for such formality,” Feng Xiuyan interrupted, already taking the box. “You may call me Xiuyan. I will be disturbing you often in the future; please do not treat me as an outsider.”

This caused a stir in Shen Mother’s heart. She opened her mouth to say more, but Shen Youqing was already shouting from the courtyard: “Mom! Hurry up!”

“Coming, coming!” she replied. Her gaze lingered on Feng Xiuyan’s back as he carried the food box, following her son. Despite his noble aura, he didn’t put on any “Dragon King” airs, and his kindness toward Qingqing didn’t seem performative.

She thought, perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing for our Qingqing to be with this one.

…

The dining hall was filled with the aroma of porridge as the carved wooden doors were pushed open. Old Master Shen and Shen Father were already seated. Shen Father’s brow was already slightly furrowed.

Seeing Shen Youqing enter, he began to scold: “Why are you only getting up now? I told you to rest early yesterday, and yet you—”

Shen Father’s words stopped mid-sentence. His hand holding the bamboo chopsticks froze in mid-air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man following his son—tall, in dark robes embroidered with subtle dragon scale patterns. Who else could it be but the Dragon King?

His eyes went wide. At the head of the table, Old Master Shen also looked up, his soup spoon stopping. He looked at Feng Xiuyan and slowly stood up. When Father followed suit immediately. Both were caught completely off guard.

They never expected their boy to bring a Dragon King back for breakfast!!?

“No need for formalities,” Feng Xiuyan said, stepping forward with a steady, dignified air. He gave a slight nod to the elders. “This junior is intruding; I hope Father and the Old Master do not take offense.”

The two elders exchanged a look full of questions before looking at Shen Mother for an explanation. She simply shook her head slightly, her own eyes hiding confusion.

Shen Youqing, watching the scene, suppressed a laugh. Feng Xiuyan was too funny. His dad, mom, and grandpa combined weren’t as old as him, and yet he called himself “junior”? Pfft, hahahaha.

He peeked at Feng Xiuyan. Seeing him handle the situation so well without any arrogance made him feel quite cheerful. And his “cheap” dad was about to yell at him, wasn’t he?!

Truly, one thing conquers another. His dad was tough with everyone, but he shrunk in front of Feng Xiuyan. Thinking this, he found Feng Xiuyan more and more pleasing to the eye. Having a powerful boyfriend who can shut my old man up… that’s not bad at all.

Amid the clinking of porcelain spoons, the Shen family barely touched their food. The Old Master’s hand stayed on his beard, eyes on his porridge but peripheral vision glued to the two across from him. When Father held his tea to his lips for ages without drinking, ears tilted toward his son. When Mother was even worse, her spoon moved in the porridge as slowly as if she were painting, afraid to miss a single word.

Only Shen Youqing ate with abandon. He bit into a crystal bun and choked slightly on the juice. Feng Xiuyan didn’t miss a beat, reaching out to hand him a tea cup while gently patting his back. His tone was helplessly soft: “Eat slower.”

“Cough, cough… I didn’t expect so much juice this time,” Shen Youqing mumbled as he took the cup. He drank some tea and, remembering something, placed a piece of jujube paste cake in Feng Xiuyan’s bowl: “This is sweet, try it.”

“Thank you,” Feng Xiuyan accepted with a smile.

Shen Youqing raised an eyebrow. “Why be so polite with me?”

…

The interaction left the Shen family first shocked, then quietly relieved. They had worried about the status gap and that Qingqing was forced into the marriage. Seeing the Dragon King so attentive and caring, the heavy stones in their hearts finally began to settle.