I Transmigrated as Cannon Fodder, Only to be Desired by the Dragon King - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: The Just-Adult Dragon King — Feng Xiuyan looked at his gaze full of expectation…

The two walked side by side through the crowd. Feng Xiuyan had deliberately retracted his dragon majesty. With his broad shoulders and narrow waist paired with a black brocade robe and his ink-black hair loosely tied with a jade hairpin, he looked like a noble young master from a wealthy family. This drew many sidelong glances from passing young ladies; even two young gentlemen holding folding fans stopped to look at him twice, whispering in low voices.

Shen Youqing took all of this in. Raising an eyebrow, he poked Feng Xiuyan’s side and looked up at him with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Tsk tsk, having a boyfriend who’s too handsome doesn’t seem very reassuring.”

Feng Xiuyan’s footsteps paused slightly. He frowned slightly—though he didn’t understand the strange term “boyfriend,” he caught the hint of jealousy in the tone and, more importantly, the compliment.

He looked down at Shen Youqing, his eyes filled with genuine confusion. “Boyfriend? What does that mean?”

Shen Youqing was stunned. How was he supposed to explain that? What did ancient people call it? Paramour?

He scratched his hair, trying to figure out how to explain, when he saw Feng Xiuyan staring into his eyes, adding with utter seriousness: “Though I do not know the meaning of that title, I understand your concern. In this life, I have chosen only you as my mate. I will never fail you.”

Shen Youqing hadn’t expected Feng Xiuyan to drop such a line so suddenly. His heart felt a sudden surge of heat. It beat as fast as a small motor, and he felt dizzy with sweetness. This feeling was even more addictive than the full-sugar milk tea he used to drink before transmigrating.

He quickly turned his face away to stare at the bluestone slabs beneath his feet, his voice muffled. “Oh… I, I know…” Feeling that wasn’t enough, he paused and added awkwardly in a volume only the two of them could hear, “I’m very devoted too, so you don’t have to worry either.”

Feng Xiuyan froze. His footsteps came to a complete halt. He looked down at the person beside him. Shen Youqing was pursing his lips, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly, and even his neck was flushed. That embarrassed yet serious look made Feng Xiuyan’s heart burn more than any flowery words ever could.

Feng Xiuyan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He was about to say something when Shen Youqing jumped away as if scorched. He sniffed the air forcefully, and his eyes lit up instantly.

“Ah! Smells so good—” As if finding a lifesaver, he didn’t wait for Feng Xiuyan to react before dashing toward the source of the aroma.

Feng Xiuyan stood in place, watching him stand on his tiptoes in front of a stall, eyes sparkling at the fragrant roasted sweet potatoes on the stove. He let out a helpless, doting laugh.

“Grandpa, two roasted sweet potatoes!” Shen Youqing reached the stall and struck up a conversation with the owner.

Feng Xiuyan followed behind and naturally pulled out some silver to pay.

“Fresh out of the oven, careful of your hands!” The old man handed them over wrapped in straw paper.

Shen Youqing used both hands to catch the scorching sweet potato. The paper couldn’t block the heat, so he frantically tossed it from hand to hand while hissing and sucking in cold air. He hurriedly blew on it twice and peeled back the charred skin. The golden flesh was revealed, sending sweet, hot steam directly to his nose—he could even see the seeping sugary syrup.

“Try it! Back where I’m from, we call this a ‘hand warmer and meal replacement.’ Carrying one in winter is super cozy, and it fills you up!”

He stuffed a large bite into his mouth. The soft, dense texture melted between his teeth—sweet but not cloying, with a smoky, charred fragrance. This taste was exactly like the sweet potatoes he used to share with colleagues on winter nights before transmigrating; it was so warm it made his heart tremble.

Feng Xiuyan looked at the blackened object in his hand, its skin covered in charcoal ash, and frowned slightly. The food in the Dragon Palace was always exquisite. In his thousand years of life, this was the first time he had touched such “crude” food.

“Don’t just stand there, taste it!” Seeing him hesitate, Shen Youqing held the one he had bitten directly to Feng Xiuyan’s lips, his eyes shining with the light of a recommendation. “It’s seriously the best!”

Looking at those expectant eyes, Feng Xiuyan couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He leaned down slightly and took a small bite from Shen Youqing’s hand. At first, it was just warm, but then a pure sweetness bloomed on his tongue. The flesh was so delicate it barely needed chewing—completely different from the “vulgar” texture he had imagined.

“How is it? I didn’t lie, right?” Shen Youqing asked indistinctly while chewing, a bit of charred skin sticking to the corner of his mouth.

Feng Xiuyan’s gaze immediately locked onto that bit of charred skin. His fingertips felt an inexplicable itch. Without thinking, he raised his hand and used his thumb to brush the soft, tender lip.

The moment his thumb touched the warm skin, the delicate sensation made him freeze—this touch reminded him of the intimate kiss they had shared. The damp, hot breath, the soft lips, and the other’s flustered, clumsy response surged through his mind like a tide.

He suddenly remembered that his heat period was approaching.

If, at that time, the dragon saliva remaining in Shen Youqing’s body hadn’t fully dissipated… with the dragon race’s pull toward their mate, Qingqing would surely be affected by his aura. If he couldn’t control his instinct then, and with Qingqing…

The thought burned in his heart like fire. Feng Xiuyan jerked his hand back, his ears heating up instantly.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his sudden movement and distracted look, Shen Youqing tilted his head in confusion.

“No… nothing.” Feng Xiuyan hurriedly averted his gaze, clearing his throat to hide his flustered state. His ear tips were so red they looked ready to bleed, and his voice was softer than usual. “It is indeed… more delicious than expected.”

“Let’s go, let’s keep exploring.” Shen Youqing didn’t think much of it and bounced toward the next crowded area.

…

The Sugar Painting

A little further ahead, Shen Youqing was stopped by a sweet scent—a sugar painting stall. The vendor held a ladle of molten golden syrup, his wrist flicking to create thin sugar threads on a bluestone slab. In the blink of an eye, a dragon with clear scales and claws took shape, drawing gasps from the surrounding children.

Shen Youqing stopped in his tracks, staring blankly. He only reacted when Feng Xiuyan walked up behind him, tugging on the dragon’s sleeve and whispering, “This craft is amazing, even more delicate than the temple fairs back home.”

Feng Xiuyan followed his gaze to the sugar dragon and lightly tapped his forehead. “You like it?”

Shen Youqing nodded vigorously, his eyes as bright as fallen stars. After thinking for a few seconds, he smiled until his eyes were crescents. “I want one! But I don’t want a dragon. Let’s make two little people, okay?”

“Two little people?” Feng Xiuyan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” Shen Youqing pointed at Feng Xiuyan and then poked his own cheek, his smile sweet enough to melt. “One of you and one of me. That way, we both have our own exclusive sugar paintings.”

Feng Xiuyan’s Adam’s apple moved. Seeing the undisguised expectation in the boy’s eyes, a low laugh escaped his throat. “Alright.”

He stepped forward and said gently to the vendor, “Sir, please make two sugar people. Just model them after us.”

The vendor, seeing two young masters of extraordinary bearing, agreed happily. “No problem! You two have such fine features; they’ll look great. Just a moment!”

In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, a vivid sugar painting of a person was formed.

“Holy crap, this looks just like me!” Shen Youqing held the sugar painting up to his eyes, full of wonder. Before he could admire it enough, Feng Xiuyan’s exclusive sugar painting was also finished. He immediately leaned in, putting the two sugar people side by side for comparison. “Awesome, he even matched our heights!”

But after staring at the sugar people for two seconds, he frowned and grumbled, “Am I really this short? This one is a whole head shorter than yours.”

“You are not short.” Feng Xiuyan reached out and rubbed the top of his head, his voice light with amusement. “You are still young; you can still grow.”

“Oh, right!” Shen Youqing slapped his forehead, remembering that the original owner of this body was only seventeen or eighteen—the age for growth spurts.

He held the sugar person and looked up, his eyes sparkling. “By the way, are you really 1,800 years old?”

Feng Xiuyan nodded.

“So… you’re actually a white-bearded old man?” Shen Youqing’s voice dropped instantly, his eyes full of a complex ‘I understand, but I won’t say it’ look.

Feng Xiuyan was stunned by the remark, then laughed helplessly. “What on earth goes on in that small head of yours?”

Seeing his bitter smile, Shen Youqing thought he’d hit a sore spot and waved his hands to comfort him. “Don’t mind me, I don’t mean I dislike it! And you don’t look old at all. I used to read cultivation stories where it said powerful people lock their appearance at a certain stage. Even if they live for thousands of years, they always look eighteen!”

Once Shen Youqing started talking, he couldn’t stop, his mouth running a mile a minute. Feng Xiuyan didn’t rush him; he just stood there patiently listening, the smile in his eyes impossible to hide. At first, he had found this child noisy, but now, seeing him chirping away to share his thoughts, his heart was filled with joy.

How can there be someone so vivid and lovely in this world?

“So, did you become the Dragon King when you were young too?” Shen Youqing finally circled back to the main topic, full of curiosity.

“No,” Feng Xiuyan replied softly, his ear tips turning pink again.

“Holy crap!” Shen Youqing’s heart skipped a beat, his pupils shaking. No way? Is this handsome face really an illusion? It’s not that I mind the age, but 1,800 years old… is that… part still functional?

Seeing Shen Youqing’s expression change from sunny to cloudy to panicked, Feng Xiuyan finally realized the boy was imagining something completely off-track. His ears burned bright red, and he grabbed Shen Youqing’s wrist. “It’s not what you think! The lifespans and coming-of-age of dragons and mortals are different. We are only considered adults when we reach 1,800 years old.”

He paused, and under Shen Youqing’s curious gaze, he blurted out an addition: “Strictly speaking, I am a… young dragon who has just entered adulthood.”

“A young dragon!” Shen Youqing’s eyes snapped bright. He smiled until his eyes were crescents.

“I am an adult!” Feng Xiuyan hurriedly clarified, his ears so red they could bleed, his tone both urgent and soft. “I am fully an adult now, it’s just… it’s just different from the mortal definition of ‘adult’.”

“Okay, okay,” Shen Youqing suppressed his laughter. “Then, Lord Dragon King who just became an adult, let’s go get some food. I’m hungry.”