The Cannon Fodder Roles I Play All Become White Moonlights [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 20

The people on stage were staring at Su Qingmeng, and so were those in the audience.

From the costumes of the performers on stage, Su Qingmeng vaguely recognized it as a ballet from the 1970s.

She had once played the role of a ballet dancer and had studied ballet for a while to prepare for the part, but her skills were only rudimentary. Moreover, she had no idea about the specific content of the ballet or the role she was supposed to be playing.

But now, she was being forced into the spotlight. Standing on stage, with the spotlight shining directly on her, there was no room for retreat.

Su Qingmeng used the few ballet moves she could somewhat execute and ended with a grand jeté, landing in front of the two actors on stage, smiling at them.

Unexpectedly, they were left dumbfounded.

The male actor playing the old man, upon closer inspection, wasn’t old at all, he looked to be in his twenties. The other actor, a girl with long braids tied with red ribbons, seemed even younger, around seventeen or eighteen.

She stood there in stunned silence for a moment before bursting into tears in front of everyone, completely forgetting what to do next. The audience, which had been quiet, erupted into scattered laughter.

It wasn’t until a man sitting in the front row, who was clearly a high-ranking officer, stood up and glanced back that the laughter died down.

Su Qingmeng stole a glance at the man as he sat back down straight-backed. He didn’t look very old, perhaps around thirty, with sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, a tall nose, and a stern, angular face.

Perhaps sensing her gaze, he lifted his eyes to look at her. His gaze was as heavy as a mountain, making it hard to discern his emotions.

Su Qingmeng quickly averted her eyes, lowering her gaze to the other two on stage. But the female actor couldn’t stop crying.

The performance had completely fallen apart.

A middle-aged man in a military uniform rushed out from backstage and approached the man in the front row, bowing and apologizing. Su Qingmeng guessed he was the head of the cultural troupe.

The man glanced at Su Qingmeng again, nodded faintly at the middle-aged man, and said a few words to the person beside him. Someone then called out an order, and rows of soldiers filed out in an orderly manner, leaving only the three on stage and the middle-aged man.

Once everyone had left, the middle-aged man raised his voice: “Yao Xiaoying, what’s wrong with you? What did you say when I entrusted you with this role?”

Yao Xiaoying pointed accusingly at Su Qingmeng: “But she, she…”

“Even if Xiao Su stole your moves, you should’ve gritted your teeth and kept dancing! How could you let the performance fall apart?” the middle-aged man scolded loudly.

He turned to Su Qingmeng and pointed, but then withdrew his finger, saying stiffly, “Xiao… Xiao Su, when did you learn this part? If you’d said so earlier, we would’ve let you play the lead.”

Su Qingmeng raised an eyebrow slightly. It seemed the original host’s identity this time wasn’t too bad?

The people who had been backstage now gathered around, and someone in the crowd muttered, “The head is being so unfair. It’s clearly Su Qingmeng’s fault!”

The head of the cultural troupe’s expression shifted. He glanced furtively at Su Qingmeng and saw her face darken, as if she were about to lose her temper.

“What’s all this racket? You’ve ruined a perfectly good performance with your noise, and you still dare to make a scene? Luckily, the chief didn’t hold it against you.” The head of the cultural troupe scolded everyone but didn’t actually punish anyone. After a few words, they all dispersed.

Su Qingmeng stood quietly by herself, waiting for the crowd to leave. A girl called out to her, “Xiao Su, aren’t you leaving?”

“Why are you calling her? She’s the former chief’s beloved. Even the current chief doesn’t dare to do anything to her, let alone us,” someone nearby remarked sarcastically.

The girl who had called out to her looked embarrassed and tugged at the other person’s sleeve.

As the two gradually walked away, Su Qingmeng faintly overheard the sarcastic person saying, “She brought misfortune to Chief Yang, and now she’s throwing her weight around in the troupe…”

Su Qingmeng rubbed her temples and called out to the system twice, “Just tell me where I can receive the memories.”

[…] The system paused briefly before replying: [The dressing room or the Yang residence.]

Su Qingmeng thought of the crowd that had just left. The dressing room would still be crowded at this time, so she decided to wait until it cleared out a bit.

She walked to the center of the stage, letting the intense spotlight focus on her. In that moment, she felt as if she had become the ballet dancer she once portrayed, a dancer with exceptional skill but plagued by unfulfilled ambitions.

Without music, she began with a starting pose, then spun, imagining herself as the sole leading lady in the empty theater.

Su Qingmeng didn’t know how long she had been dancing, only that when she stopped, she was drenched in sweat, and the man referred to as “the chief” was standing quietly below the stage.

Her body stiffened momentarily, but then she stubbornly met his intense gaze. “What do you want?”

The man spoke calmly, “Are you being ostracized in the troupe?”

Su Qingmeng lowered her head dejectedly, unaware that from his angle, her sorrowful expression was clearly visible.

Just as the man was about to speak, she wiped the sweat off her body vigorously and smiled brightly. “Is the chief going to stand up for me? Great! Everyone in the troupe has been treating me poorly. Why don’t you punish all of them for me?”

“…” The man fell silent for a moment. “I’ll take you back.”

Su Qingmeng didn’t refuse and nimbly jumped down from the stage. However, as she approached, the man immediately strode ahead, maintaining a deliberate distance.

She inwardly clicked her tongue and casually asked the system, “This wouldn’t be the male lead, would it?”

[…] The system remained silent, but Su Qingmeng had a gut feeling she was right again. If asked why she thought so, it was probably because the man exuded an inexplicable aura just by standing there, like how you can instantly recognize the male and female leads when watching a TV drama.

Su Qingmeng jogged to keep up with the man, following him from the theater all the way outside. Only when he stopped beside a military jeep did she catch up.

“Why walk so fast? I could barely keep up,” she complained in a coquettish tone that wasn’t irritating but rather felt like a summer sea breeze, albeit with a hint of sweetness.

The man subtly glanced at her again. Her dark, long hair was damp with sweat, her peach-blossom eyes were misty, and her red lips were slightly parted…

He immediately averted his gaze and took the passenger seat.

Su Qingmeng had no choice but to sit in the back. Only after getting in did, she notices another person sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Xiao Zhang, take Comrade Su back first,” the man said calmly.

The driver simply responded with a “Yes,” and silence fell over the car. Su Qingmeng didn’t feel like talking either. The two men in the car clearly knew the original owner of this body, and saying too much might give her away.

Su Qingmeng leaned against the car window. The wind carried a salty scent, the smell of the sea. Everywhere she looked, there were large red banners and neatly marching troops.

She was on an island, in a military base, and the era seemed to be the 1970s, similar to the setting of that dance drama she remembered.

The man glanced at Su Qingmeng through the rearview mirror. The young girl, leaning against the window, looked somewhat sullen, her lips slightly pouted, giving her an air of childish immaturity.

He thought to himself: Although he ought to address Su Qingmeng as “sister-in-law,” she was actually much younger than him, just an immature young girl. With Old Yang gone, leaving her and the child alone, he should take extra care of her and Yang Dongming.

Su Qingmeng got out of the car, politely bid them goodbye, and headed toward the house. In the yard stood a lanky teenager.

The boy was tall and slender, wearing a white Dacron shirt. The island sunlight glinted off his brown hair, making him look like a handsome youth straight out of a modern-day manga.

Unfortunately, this strikingly beautiful boy wore a mocking smile as he watched her step out of the man’s car.

She walked past him, and he coldly remarked, “Jiang Lingfeng would never be interested in you. Stop embarrassing my father’s memory by going out like this.”

Su Qingmeng shot him a faint, ambiguous smile. Before the boy could react, she dashed into the house, locked the door behind her, and left him outside, ignoring his furious pounding on the door.

“Now that we’re at the Yang residence, can you pass me the memories?” Su Qingmeng asked the system.

[Environment suitable for receiving plot confirmed. Transmitting plot to host now.] The system wasted no time and directly sent her the storyline.

The plot of this world wasn’t complicated, it was a heartwarming period romance novel:

The male lead, Jiang Lingfeng, was originally the regiment commander of a certain division stationed on Nanjiang Island. Though already in his thirties, he had no interest in marriage or romance. Several matchmaking attempts had been made for him, but he hadn’t taken a liking to any of them.

On the day of Division Commander Old Yang’s remarriage, a localized conflict suddenly broke out at the border. Old Yang abandoned his new wife and headed to the front lines with Jiang Lingfeng. Unexpectedly, in this not-so-minor battle, Old Yang lost his life. Jiang Lingfeng, having performed meritoriously in the conflict, was promoted to the new division commander. Because of Old Yang’s sacrifice, Jiang Lingfeng took special care of Old Yang’s widow, Su Qingmeng, and treated Old Yang’s seventeen-year-old son as his own.

Also, due to injuries sustained in the battle, he met the island nurse, Qiao Jihong. The young woman wasn’t intimidated by his authoritative presence as a commander. Unlike the shy girls of the time, she was poised and confident, even teasing him in return, bringing vitality to his quiet life. Gradually, he developed feelings for Qiao Jihong.

The female lead, Qiao Jihong, was actually a white-collar worker from the 21st century who had traveled back in time. She took an immediate liking to the handsome and steady Jiang Lingfeng. Even though Jiang Lingfeng had taken in the rebellious seventeen-year-old Yang Dongming, she didn’t mind at all. As the eldest sister in her own family, she had plenty of experience dealing with teenagers in their rebellious phase.

Thus, with her high emotional intelligence and excellent skills, she won over Jiang Lingfeng and Yang Dongming, which in turn provoked the jealousy of Old Yang’s widow, Su Qingmeng.

Su Qingmeng was the belle of the island’s cultural troupe, the very antithesis of Qiao Jihong, lazy, gluttonous, with a terrible temper and poor relationships. Apart from her pretty face, she had nothing to offer.

Back then, she had shamelessly begged the troupe leader to introduce her to Old Yang, who had just lost his wife. Little did she know that shortly after marrying him and before she could enjoy a single day as the wife of a high-ranking officer, Old Yang passed away, leaving behind a son only four years younger than her.

Frustrated, she not only refused to care for Yang Dongming but even ordered him to look after her. When Yang Dongming refused to obey, she kicked him out of the house. With nowhere to go, Yang Dongming was taken in by Jiang Lingfeng.

Not only did Jiang Lingfeng shelter Yang Dongming, but he also showed kindness to Su Qingmeng out of pity for her becoming a widow at such a young age. This, however, gave Su Qingmeng twisted ideas, she wanted to marry Jiang Lingfeng. When she heard that Jiang Lingfeng and Qiao Jihong were in a relationship, she went around causing trouble for Qiao Jihong. In the end, she was humiliated by both Qiao Jihong and Yang Dongming and was eventually sent off the island by Jiang Lingfeng.

As she stood at the bow of the departing boat, a massive wave swept her away, turning her into a malicious cannon fodder character who died under mysterious circumstances.

Su Qingmeng rubbed her throbbing temples, ignoring Yang Dongming, who was still knocking at the door. She took a quick bath, changed her clothes, and only then opened the front door.

The tall teenager’s hand, poised mid-knock, froze in the air. He glanced down at Su Qingmeng with a sidelong look. Freshly bathed after dancing, her stepmother looked rosy and youthful, appearing almost the same age as him.

Catching a whiff of the faint fragrance emanating from her, he frowned. His long legs stepped past her as he headed straight into the house, but she grabbed the corner of his shirt.

He turned and glared at his young stepmother, who was a head shorter than him, his face cold as he snapped, “Let go.”

Su Qingmeng acted as if she hadn’t noticed, stating matter-of-factly, “I’m hungry. Go cook.”

Yang Dongming sneered, “Why should I?”

“Because I’m your mother!” Su Qingmeng planted her hands on her hips, unapologetically taking advantage of the teenager.

Yang Dongming was taken aback. Right after Old Yang’s passing, before Su Qingmeng knew he had died in the line of duty, she had already started acting like a stepmother, though she had never been brazen enough to call herself his mother back then.

Snapping back to reality, he let out a bitter laugh. “Su Qingmeng, have you no shame?” How dare she call herself his mother.

“If I had shame, would you feed me?” Su Qingmeng puffed out her cheeks, her face plump and glowing from the snow cream she had just applied.

Yang Dongming was about to mock her again when he heard a distinct “gurgle”, the sound of Su Qingmeng’s stomach growling from hunger.

Su Qingmeng’s face instantly flushed a deep crimson, like peach blossoms in full bloom in March. Seeing Yang Dongming on the verge of laughter, she preemptively snapped, “What are you laughing at? Haven’t you heard thunder before? How ignorant! Kids these days have no experience!”

Yang Dongming hated being called a kid. When Old Yang had decided to remarry, he had vehemently opposed it, and Old Yang had brushed him off with, “What does a kid know?”

Perhaps intimidated by his dark, intense gaze, Su Qingmeng released his shirt and muttered, “If you can’t cook, just say so. I won’t make fun of a child. Whatever, relying on you would only mean starving to death.”

She headed toward the kitchen. Fortunately, the house was well-stocked with flour and even eggs, which were considered precious in those days.

Su Qingmeng knew how to cook, but the original owner of this body did not. So, she casually grabbed a handful of flour, cracked two eggs into it, and stirred haphazardly, sending dry flour flying everywhere and dirtying her freshly washed hair.

Yang Dongming had followed her, intending to see what mischief she was up to, but he hadn’t expected this scene. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Cough, cough!” Su Qingmeng waved her hand, trying to fan away the irritating flour. She widened her eyes innocently and said, “Kneading dough. I want to eat egg noodles.”

Yang Dongming rolled his eyes dramatically. With her skills, it would be a miracle if she could actually make egg noodles!

He glanced at the half-scattered flour and the two eggs, shells and all, smashed into the bowl. Gritting his teeth, he snapped, “Step aside!”

Su Qingmeng blinked, looking exactly like a kitten trying to sneak some dried fish. “Hey… you’re just a kid…”

“Do you want to eat or not?” Yang Dongming asked coldly, his expression making it clear that if she said one more word, he would refuse to cook.

Su Qingmeng quickly waved her hands and obediently sat to the side, giving up her spot by the stove.

Although the boy came from a cadre’s family, when he was young, Old Yang was never home. With only a bedridden mother, all the household responsibilities had fallen on his shoulders. By the time Old Yang finally remembered them and brought them to the island, he hadn’t enjoyed many good days before his mother passed away. Less than half a year later, Old Yang married Su Qingmeng.

In no time, two bowls of hand-pulled noodles were placed in front of them. Su Qingmeng casually picked up two pairs of chopsticks and handed one to him.

Yang Dongming was taken aback by her rare show of friendliness. The girl handing him the chopsticks still had white powder on her hair and face, resembling a mischievous cat trying to curry favor. Though annoying, her appearance made it easy to forgive her.

He turned his head away, awkwardly accepting the chopsticks, and thought to himself that as long as Su Qingmeng didn’t cause any trouble, he might as well be the one to cook…

Su Qingmeng was very hungry. She sat down and finished her noodles in just a few bites. Looking up at Yang Dongming, she noticed the boy had only eaten half of his noodles, but the sunny-side-up egg on top remained untouched.

“Don’t you like eggs?” Su Qingmeng tilted her head and asked, looking even more like an obedient cat.

Yang Dongming pursed his lips and, caught off guard, replied, “I like to save…” my favorite part for last.

Before he could finish his sentence, Su Qingmeng swiftly picked up his beloved sunny-side-up egg with her chopsticks and stuffed the entire thing into her mouth in one bite. After swallowing, she flashed him a standard eight-tooth smile and said, “I’ll help you eat it.”

“Su Qingmeng!” the boy roared angrily. Who asked for her help?! If he ever cooked for Su Qingmeng again, he’d be a dog!