The Cannon Fodder Roles I Play All Become White Moonlights [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 19

On the afternoon Su Qingmeng met with misfortune, Ling Yuanbai’s listening device was still recording.

He remained extremely calm. When he sensed something was wrong, he turned the car around immediately, disregarding Yao Jia, who was still in the vehicle.

Even as he pushed the speed to its limit and Yao Jia beside him turned pale with fear, he remained composed. With a clear mind, he called both 120 and the police, reporting the location from the tracker.

Even when he heard the sounds of a struggle and Ling Qin’s cries of pain, he stayed calm, repeatedly dialing Ling Qin’s number.

Even when he heard Su Qingmeng call his name so gently for the first time, he remained unshaken, thinking that if he could just go a little faster, he would surely save her. Someone as clever as her wouldn’t meet her end like this.

Even when he saw Su Qingmeng lying motionless, her pristine white sweater stained the same blood-red as the ruby on her chest, he walked forward calmly. Without even glancing at Fang Tinglan’s body, he called for a doctor to resuscitate Su Qingmeng. He even abandoned his car and rode with her in the ambulance to the hospital.

So why were those people shaking their heads? Su Qingmeng was clever, she had escaped from a pervert all by herself at the age of nine. There was no way she could die here!

Ling Yuanbai stared fiercely at the people around him. Their mouths moved as if they were speaking, but no sound reached him. His world had fallen into complete silence.

From the moment Su Qingmeng uttered her final “Take care,” he had heard nothing else from the world.

He watched as they draped a white cloth over her face, which still held a faint trace of a smile. Suddenly, boundless panic surged within him. Like a madman, he lunged forward. Why cover her? She was the cleverest and the best at deception, both he and Fang Mo had been utterly fooled by her. Surely, this was just another one of her tricks…

Someone grabbed him from behind and lifted him up. It was Fang Mo.

Fang Mo had arrived at some point unnoticed. His already dark eyes were now devoid of any light, making him look terrifying. With all his strength, he punched Ling Yuanbai in the face.

The taste of blood-filled Ling Yuanbai’s mouth, and the glasses that had always rested on the bridge of his nose fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

It hurt. As someone who had been beaten black and blue by Ling Qin since childhood, Ling Yuanbai thought he was accustomed to pain. But Fang Mo’s punch truly hurt, from his face to his heart, the pain was so intense he could hardly breathe.

He lacked the strength to get up from the ground and simply sat there, watching Fang Mo guard Su Qingmeng’s body like a lone wolf, refusing to let anyone approach. No one dared to come near. Suddenly, Ling Yuanbai felt like laughing.

Su Qingmeng, look, Fang Mo is a madman, even crazier than I am!

Ling Yuanbai raised a hand to cover his eyes. He just wanted to laugh so badly that his hand remained pressed against his eyes, unable to lower it. Scalding heat streamed from his eyes, seeping slowly through the gaps between his fingers.

Fang Mo held Su Qingmeng’s body for a long time. Even when the police arrived, no one could get close to him.

It was Ling Yuanbai who struggled to his feet, walked over, and punched him coldly, saying, “The culprit who harmed her is still at large.”

Fang Mo slowly lifted his head. His phoenix eyes were bloodshot, terrifying to behold.

Ling Yuanbai looked down at him from above, thinking how utterly wretched Fang Mo appeared. Su Qingmeng really ought to open her eyes and see this, she would never like a man so disheveled.

Ling Qin had been stabbed twice by Su Qingmeng and was seriously injured, but he hadn’t gone to the hospital. Instead, he specifically invited Dr. Song to his home. When the police arrived, he had just finished being bandaged, hunched over and unable to straighten his back.

As the handcuffs snapped onto his wrists, he was still in disbelief. He had prepared a perfect alibi and deliberately left traces of Ling Yuanbai at the scene. If investigated thoroughly, Ling Yuanbai would have a stronger motive, killing Fang Tinglan to cover up the fact that he was an illegitimate child, and incidentally killing Su Qingmeng. It all seemed perfectly logical.

But he never expected that both Fang Mo and Ling Yuanbai had the recording of him planning the murder. Ling Yuanbai’s version was even more complete. He also had dashcam footage that fully proved he wasn’t at the scene. Ling Qin never imagined he would fall so easily.

It almost felt as if he had fallen into Su Qingmeng’s trap.

When he was arrested, Ling Yuanbai stood there watching quietly.

Father and son locked eyes for a moment. Ling Qin laughed coldly, “I never thought we’d end up the same way. But you’re even worse off than me. At least I spent many years as Jiajia’s husband. What about you? You have nothing.”

Ling Yuanbai gave him an almost indifferent glance, as if Ling Qin’s words couldn’t provoke any anger in him.

It wasn’t until Ling Qin said, “Do you know? If it weren’t for your mother, Fang Tinglan, she wouldn’t have gotten herself killed. Was it excruciating when that thick steel bar pierced her body? Did she call out your name as she died? You heard it, didn’t you? You heard it all along, but couldn’t even see her one last time. How does that feel?”

Ling Yuanbai ignored the presence of the police and punched his biological father hard. The man, no longer as imposing as he once was, couldn’t withstand the blow. It was only then that Ling Yuanbai realized his fists had grown harder than Ling Qin’s.

That demon-like father was, in fact, so fragile.

On the day Ling Qin was sentenced, Ling Yuanbai took Yao Jia to divorce him. He smirked maliciously at the man. Now, Ling Qin had no recourse left but to await his death.

Ling Qin cursed Ling Yuanbai with his last breath but had no choice but to divorce Yao Jia.

After the divorce, Yao Jia received a considerable amount of assets. She wanted to reconnect with Fang Mo, but he never responded to her. She searched for him for a long time and finally found him through Lu Yaoqing.

After Su Qingmeng’s death, Fang Mo continued to live in the tenement building where she had once stayed. He still woke up early every day to prepare breakfast, set two pairs of chopsticks on the table, kept the room spotlessly clean, and every night, he curled up on his small folding bed, facing the empty room and softly saying, “Goodnight, Qingmeng.”

When Yao Jia found him, she wept uncontrollably. “A Mo, you’re my son. Your father, he…”

Fang Mo’s phoenix eyes, so similar to hers, were as cold as if he were no longer among the living. He replied, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Without a glance at Yao Jia’s devastated expression, he coldly closed the door and sent a message to Lu Yaoqing: Don’t let irrelevant people disturb Qingmeng and me anymore.

Su Qingmeng was dead, and Lu Yaoqing found it hard to accept. She still wore the bracelet Su Qingmeng had woven for her, her phone wallpaper was still a photo of the two of them together, and her social media feeds were filled with traces of Su Qingmeng. But death was final, and the living had to carry on.

Fang Mo’s state worried her.

Lu Yaoqing sent him a reply: “Senior Fang Mo, Mengmeng is gone. Even if you don’t want to acknowledge Aunt Yao, you still have to look forward.”

“My path forward is Qingmeng.” Fang Mo set down his phone, his gaze fixed on the photo hanging on the wall, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

“Fang Mo, don’t be like this. If Mengmeng knew, she’d be heartbroken.” Lu Yaoqing couldn’t hold back her tears. She had witnessed Fang Mo and Su Qingmeng’s love firsthand. She had once thought Fang Mo was too cold for Su Qingmeng, never imagining that such a reserved man could love so deeply, and so terrifyingly.

Fang Mo didn’t reply again.

After this meeting, Yao Jia never saw Fang Mo again. Her depression worsened, and she began to suffer from delusions. On the streets, she would mistake the slender, smoking backs of men for Fang Mo’s father.

Ling Yuanbai decided to send her abroad for rehabilitation, believing a new environment would be less triggering.

During their final meeting, Yao Jia looked pale as she told Ling Yuanbai, “A Mo will never accept me as his mother. If only I had been braver back then and perished together with Ling Qin, it might have been better for both of you. I was just too afraid of dying.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to live,” Ling Yuanbai comforted her.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, both of them froze. The last person to say those words to Yao Jia had been Su Qingmeng. Yao Jia glanced at Ling Yuanbai, who still wore his non-prescription glasses, his expression unreadable, the corners of his lips still slightly upturned.

The question, “Did you also like Su Qingmeng?” died on her tongue. There was no point in asking anymore.

On the first New Year after Su Qingmeng’s passing, Fang Mo visited the orphanage again. At the entrance, he encountered two others: Lu Yaoqing and Ling Yuanbai.

The three exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

After Su Qingmeng’s death, Fang Mo had discreetly transferred her household registration out of the orphanage. Lu Yaoqing had told Su Xing that Su Qingmeng had gone abroad for further studies. No one ever revealed to Su Xing that Su Qingmeng would never return to see her again.

Su Xing didn’t seem surprised to see the three of them, nor did she question why Su Qingmeng hadn’t called in over half a year. She simply greeted them with a warm smile.

The three spent a joyful New Year with the children at the orphanage. Surrounded by the lingering presence of Su Qingmeng, both Fang Mo and Ling Yuanbai seemed to find a sense of peace. From then on, it became a tradition: every year, the three would tacitly return to the orphanage, even as they rose to become influential figures in the business world.

Seven years after Su Qingmeng’s passing, Su Xing passed away, unable to hold on, dying in the warmth of spring.

Fang Mo arranged her funeral, acting as her son-in-law.

Ling Yuanbai and Lu Yaoqing both attended the funeral. By then, the Ling family, under Ling Yuanbai’s leadership, had grown even more formidable than it had been under Ling Qin.

Lu Yaoqing did not end up with Fang Mo as in the original plot, so naturally, she did not entrust the Lu Corporation to him. After graduating from college, she began following her father into the Lu Group, shedding her naivety and maturing rapidly in the workplace. Today, she is a capable young executive in her own right.

Su Xing and Su Qingmeng were buried in the same cemetery. After the funeral, everyone had left.

In the quiet cemetery, Lu Yaoqing walked to Su Qingmeng’s grave and, as expected, found Fang Mo there. “I heard you’ve been researching artificial intelligence lately and even created a simulation of Mengmeng in an AI? Fang Mo, it’s been seven years since Mengmeng passed. Even when you were together, you didn’t share any unforgettable moments. Let go of yourself and let go of Mengmeng. Aren’t those simulations a form of defilement to her memory?”

Fang Mo’s face remained as cold and expressionless as ever, but his eyes had taken on a haunting darkness ever since Su Qingmeng’s departure. He glanced down at the bracelet on Lu Yaoqing’s wrist. “Yes, seven years. Even the bracelet on your wrist has faded.”

Lu Yaoqing froze.

“Don’t worry, nothing and no one can ever replace Qingmeng. She is one of a kind in this world.” Fang Mo smiled faintly, a rare occurrence. His phoenix eyes curved, regaining a spark of light, like stars streaking across the galaxy, enough to make one’s heart flutter.

Even after all these years, Lu Yaoqing had to admit that Fang Mo’s appearance still aligned with her aesthetic preferences. But just as she had once told Ling Yuanbai, he had been in a relationship with Su Qingmeng. Even though Su Qingmeng was no longer here, she would not pursue him again.

“You should go. I want to be alone with Qingmeng for a while.” Fang Mo gently stroked the yellowed photo on the tombstone.

Before descending the hill, Lu Yaoqing glanced back. The tall man sat alone in the solitude of the cemetery. Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly laughed at herself for overthinking. Seven years had already passed.

After getting into her car, Lu Yaoqing suddenly remembered that the next day was the anniversary of Su Qingmeng’s death. She looked back at the hill once more, now shrouded in mist, the man’s figure long swallowed by the fog.

Fang Mo stared at Su Qingmeng’s photo for a long time. The person in the picture had lively peach-blossom eyes, and he could still see the cunning glint in them. “Qingmeng, the headmistress passed away peacefully. You don’t need to worry. All these years, I’ve listened to you. I’m doing fine.”

He paused. “It’s been so many years, Qingmeng. Isn’t it time you gave me a home?”

He reached out, tore off the single photo, and replaced it with a picture of the two of them.

It was a photo taken during their first New Year together. That year, he wore her red scarf, and his smile in the picture was still somewhat awkward. She had asked him what his New Year’s wish was, but he hadn’t answered.

He had never made a wish for the New Year before. The only wish he ever made was for her.

When Su Qingmeng was with him, they had indeed never experienced anything earth-shattering or made any grand vows. Even the reason they got together was somewhat laughable.

It was just that first encounter, when he turned around unintentionally and saw the only beam of light in his bleak life.

This world had shown him nothing but malice. Had he never known warmth, he might have forced himself to endure with sheer determination. But Su Qingmeng had given him warmth and then left, like a traveler in the desert who, after tasting water, could no longer continue the journey.

Su Qingmeng’s final wish had been fulfilled by him, and now he could depart without any attachments. He only hoped that after seven years, he could still catch up to Su Qingmeng’s footsteps.

When Ling Yuanbai received the news of Fang Mo’s death in front of Su Qingmeng’s grave, he was in a meeting, the shareholders’ meeting of the Ling Corporation.

He glanced at the message on his phone and the time stamp, his expression unchanged as he continued to chair the meeting.

The content of the meeting was somewhat dull. The year Ling Qin was arrested, the Ling Corporation nearly collapsed, but he had managed to hold it up. Having overcome its difficulties, the Ling Corporation grew larger and larger, catching up to the Kang Corporation.

Now, he alone had the final say in the Ling Corporation. The shareholders beneath him only knew how to flatter him, and hearing the same clichés over and over again bred weariness.

Ling Yuanbai ended the meeting. Every year on this day, his secretary would not schedule any appointments for him in the afternoon, knowing that Ling Yuanbai would not come to the company for the entire afternoon.

He ignored the flurry of messages in the group chats and the private message from Lu Yaoqing. Instead, he drove to the suburban wetlands.

Seven years had passed, but the place remained desolate. Tall reeds swayed in the wind, and occasionally, floating catkins drifted by, reminiscent of Su Qingmeng’s long hair tousled by the wind on that afternoon many years ago. Yet, there was only the scent of grass, none of the faint fragrance that had once clung to Su Qingmeng.

Nowadays, if Ling Yuanbai wanted to smoke, he no longer needed to hide from anyone. No one would question him, and certainly no one would whip him with a leather belt. Yet, he had long grown accustomed to wearing a mask in front of others. In everyone’s eyes, he was still that refined, exemplary Ling CEO who neither smoked nor drank. Whenever he felt restless and wanted to smoke, he would still come here.

This time, he stepped out of the car and gazed at the endless expanse of water ahead. Casually, he removed the plain glasses from the bridge of his nose.

He lit a cigarette and, abandoning the rigid posture he had maintained since childhood, leaned lazily against the hood of the car, just as Su Qingmeng had done on that afternoon many years ago, and looked into the distance.

After a long while, he took out the ruby necklace he always carried with him. Dried bloodstains had left it looking mottled.

He said, “Su Qingmeng, the scenery here really is quite beautiful. So, why did you kiss me that day?”

This was a question he had never asked aloud years ago, and now, even if he did, no one would answer him.

Ling Yuanbai lowered his head and chuckled softly. He opened the recording on his phone, where he had edited together Su Qingmeng’s words, “Ling Yuanbai” and “Take care.” There were no others, just him and her.

The recording played over and over again, and he listened tirelessly, as if transported back to that afternoon, from having a meal together to Su Qingmeng going to find Yao Jia, then him sending Yao Jia back, and finally, to making Ling Qin leave behind evidence of his crimes.

No matter how many times he recalled it, he always felt that every step had been meticulously designed by Su Qingmeng, including her final death.

Ling Yuanbai’s eyes, now free of glasses, slowly turned bloodshot. “So, Su Qingmeng, what exactly did you want to do? Did you think I would be grateful to you? You didn’t know that my blood carries the taint of Ling Qin and Fang Tinglan. It’s filthy and utterly unworthy of your sacrifice.”

He hated Ling Qin. On countless nights when he had been beaten bloody, he had fantasized about dragging Ling Qin into hell. Later, when Fang Tinglan sought him out and revealed his origins, aside from hating her, he felt mostly despair. His very bones flowed with the blood of two of the most despicable people.

He was beyond redemption.

At that moment, he thought it would be better if everything were destroyed, whether it was Ling Qin, Fang Tinglan, or even himself.

He should never have met Su Qingmeng, Ling Yuanbai thought. He truly was the descendant of a despicable man.

After meeting Su Qingmeng, greed began to fester within him. Under the guise of his grand plan, he resorted to the same vile methods as Ling Qin, eavesdropping on Su Qingmeng’s voice day and night. He even fantasized that if Su Qingmeng were by his side and willing to kiss him the way she kissed Fang Mo, he might find a reason to cherish this world.

“So, Su Qingmeng, who exactly do you love? After all you’ve done, was it for Fang Mo or for me?” Ling Yuanbai took a harsh drag of his cigarette, the smoke choking him into a fit of coughs. All these years had passed, and he still hadn’t learned to smoke as elegantly as Su Qingmeng did.

He knew Su Qingmeng was clever, she had likely seen right through him long ago. Everything she did that day felt like salvation, yet it also tormented him with the thought that he might have been deluding himself all along. Over the years, he had relied on the faint recordings of her voice to lull himself to sleep, but lately, even that had lost its effect. His insomnia grew worse by the day.

Finally, Ling Yuanbai extinguished his cigarette and picked up the ruby, pressing it gently to his lips. “Su Qingmeng, next time, if you’re going to kiss someone, remember to kiss my lips.”

Without his glasses and stripped of all pretenses, he walked step by step into the marshland ahead, unburdened and free. If there truly was a next life, he hoped he would find Su Qingmeng before Fang Mo did.

As the water submerged Ling Yuanbai’s eyes, a suffocating dread washed over him. Death seemed ready to swallow him whole, but he quickly sensed something amiss. The noise around him was chaotic, nothing like the quiet marshland.

“Can he really die without a sound?”

“He should be able to, right? He’s been lying there for days.”

Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned his gaze toward the middle-aged couple who had been speaking. Propping himself up, he smiled at their terrified faces and said, “Sorry to disappoint you. I’ve come back to life.”

“N-No disappointment at all! It’s good that you’re awake, it’s good!” The couple stammered before fleeing in panic.

The man now called “Mobai” paid them no mind. His memories were still a jumble, some belonging to Ling Yuanbai, others to Fang Mo. Yet, in every memory, there was one name he could never forget: Su Qingmeng.