The Cannon Fodder Roles I Play All Become White Moonlights [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 23

Jiang Lingfeng was a man of action. If not for the potential negative impression of staying overnight, he would have slept on the floor at the Yang residence.

Early the next morning, after finishing his military drills, he knocked on the Yang family’s door promptly at six o’clock.

Su Qingmeng was the one who answered the door.

The young woman had just finished her dance practice, her clothes damp with sweat. Her loose-fitting top clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but unlike the sweaty, foul-smelling soldiers in the army, Su Qingmeng seemed different. She carried a faint, elegant fragrance, like flowers blooming in the spring rain.

Jiang Lingfeng paused for a moment, subtly shifting his gaze away. “Practicing dance so early in the morning?”

This contradicted the rumors he had heard about Su Qingmeng being lazy and indulgent.

Su Qingmeng lifted her delicate, palm-sized face proudly and snorted disdainfully. “I know what they say about me behind my back. I deliberately act lazy and carefree in front of them, but I practice harder than anyone in secret. When the time comes to perform on stage, I’ll amaze everyone and make them regret looking down on me!”

Her words didn’t come across as spiteful but rather somewhat endearing. Jiang Lingfeng was amused again and fought back a smile, covering his mouth to hide the upward curve of his lips.

By the time Su Qingmeng glanced sideways at him, he had already lowered his hand, resuming his usual stern and upright demeanor. “I noticed yesterday that you liked eggs, so I brought all the eggs from my house, along with a bag of flour. For breakfast, we’ll have egg pancakes and porridge.”

Accustomed to military life, Jiang Lingfeng’s tone carried a hint of authority, more like a command than a suggestion.

Su Qingmeng was not pleased. Pouting, she said, “I’m not one of your soldiers. Why should I take orders from you about what to eat for breakfast?”

Jiang Lingfeng looked at her, his brow furrowing deeply. Hesitantly, he asked, “Then what would you like for breakfast, sister-in-law?”

Su Qingmeng’s lively peach-blossom eyes darted around as if deep in thought. After a long pause, she finally said, “Let’s have porridge and egg pancakes, then.”

“…” So, what was the difference from what he had suggested? And it had wasted several extra minutes. Jiang Lingfeng sighed inwardly.

Yang Dongming waited until the clattering noises downstairs had ceased before pretending to have just woken up and coming down.

Rubbing his eyes, he sneered, “Su Qingmeng, with all the noise you’re making this early in the morning, should we get you a loudspeaker too?”

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes landing on Jiang Lingfeng, who stood in the living room wearing an apron over his military uniform.

“Call her Aunt Su,” the soldier said expressionlessly, not even lifting his eyelids. His tone was commanding, and his hands never stopped moving as he neatly arranged three bowls of porridge and three plates of egg pancakes on the table. Even the three pairs of chopsticks were placed at identical angles, without the slightest deviation.

“U-Uncle Jiang, why are you here?” Yang Dongming stammered, suddenly feeling that something was off. He stared warily at Jiang Lingfeng.

“Since I said I’d join you for meals,” Jiang Lingfeng removed his apron and stood ramrod straight, “that means I’ll come whenever I can. Go call Aunt Su for breakfast.”

Jiang Lingfeng’s gaze was as sharp as a blade, making the inexperienced youth feel an intense pressure. Yet, out of youthful stubbornness, Yang Dongming refused to back down.

He pressed his lips tightly together. In truth, he didn’t even know why he was upset. After all, with Jiang Lingfeng here to make breakfast, Su Qingmeng wouldn’t ask him to cook. But now,

He attributed it to the fact that Su Qingmeng was his father’s widow, and he didn’t want her getting involved with Jiang Lingfeng.

“What are you two doing?” Su Qingmeng had already freshened up and changed her clothes. Her damp, dark hair cascaded down as she naturally took a seat beside Jiang Lingfeng.

She lightly brushed her hair back, and the strands grazed Jiang Lingfeng’s exposed forearm, causing a slight itch. A faint scent of shampoo drifted past his nose.

Jiang Lingfeng’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, a wave of restlessness washing over him. But he quickly dismissed it as lingering heat from the kitchen. Without looking at Su Qingmeng, he waved to Yang Dongming. “Let’s eat breakfast.”

With Jiang Lingfeng at the table, the two who usually bickered were unusually quiet.

Yang Dongming absolutely refused to call Su Qingmeng “Aunt Su,” especially when one glance at her face revealed skin even more delicate than his female classmates.

Most islanders had darker skin from the sea breeze, and fair-skinned individuals like Yang Dongming were rare. Yet Su Qingmeng was even fairer. Unlike his cool pallor, her complexion resembled peach blossoms in March, white with a hint of pink.

Noticing Yang Dongming’s furtive glances toward Su Qingmeng, Jiang Lingfeng’s brow unconsciously furrowed. He set down his empty bowl and said calmly, “From now on, whoever gets up last does the dishes.”

Yang Dongming was still processing this when he heard Su Qingmeng chime in cheerfully, “I’m finished too!”

He looked at her. She had downed her bowl of porridge in one go and stood up, holding the half-eaten egg pancake. Winking at Yang Dongming, she said, “Good luck, Xiao Ming!”

“Who’s Xiao Ming!” Yang Dongming protested, then turned to Jiang Lingfeng indignantly. “Isn’t that cheating?”

Jiang Lingfeng stood up calmly, his gaze briefly following the girl’s retreating figure, swaying like a willow in the wind, a faint smile flickering in his eyes. “I only said the last one up has to do the dishes. I never said you couldn’t take food with you. It’s not cheating.”

Yang Dongming studied the soldier, who seemed unchanged, yet he sensed something different. He fell silent for a moment, absentmindedly gathering the bowls and utensils. “Uncle Jiang, aren’t you going to the barracks?”

Jiang Lingfeng glanced at the boy, whose intention to shoo him away was obvious, and replied indifferently, “You take the bicycle to school. I’ll escort Aunt Su to the cultural troupe.”

Yang Dongming nearly dropped the bowl in his hands. After a long pause, he managed, “Uncle Jiang, is that really appropriate?”

Jiang Lingfeng remained unmoved. “It’s perfectly appropriate.”

Su Qingmeng finished her pancake in her room, washed her hands, and came out just as the soldier and the boy sat stiffly, seemingly waiting for her. “What are you two doing?”

“Waiting for you,” they said in unison, then exchanged a subtle glance.

Jiang Lingfeng’s presence was more commanding. He naturally stepped closer to Su Qingmeng. “I’ll take you to the cultural troupe. Dongming can ride the bicycle to school.”

Su Qingmeng’s eyes lit up instantly, as if stars were swirling in them. She exclaimed joyfully, “Really? Can it be like this every day?”

Yang Dongming pressed his lips together, annoyed by Su Qingmeng’s lack of restraint. He spoke coldly, “Then you’ll have to walk back on your own.”

Walking back from the cultural troupe would take over half an hour, and a delicate girl like Su Qingmeng would never agree to it.

He hadn’t expected her to be so brazen. She tugged at Jiang Lingfeng’s sleeve, swaying it just as she had when begging him to make breakfast, and cooed, “Division Commander Jiang, could you come pick me up after work? Please?”

Jiang Lingfeng lowered his gaze to Su Qingmeng, whose red lips parted and closed as she blinked at him. His expression remained neutral as he let out a soft “Mm” from his throat.

Yang Dongming didn’t know why he was so angry, but when Jiang Lingfeng agreed, he abandoned even basic courtesy toward him. Fuming, he stormed out, slamming the door shut with all his pent-up frustration.

Su Qingmeng seemed oblivious to his sudden outburst and looked at Jiang Lingfeng in confusion. “What’s wrong with Dongming?”

Jiang Lingfeng replied calmly, “Young people are prone to temper. A boy his age just needs some discipline. When summer break comes, I’ll take him to the army for some training.”

“Oh,” Su Qingmeng responded indifferently. Seeing her lack of concern, a faint smile flickered in Jiang Lingfeng’s eyes, but it vanished the moment she turned to look at him. “Let’s go,” he said.

For several days in a row, Jiang Lingfeng escorted Su Qingmeng to the cultural troupe and picked her up afterward.

Yang Dongming wanted to say something, but with Jiang Lingfeng always around, he would never bring up Su Qingmeng’s interest in him in front of the division commander.

Jiang Lingfeng prepared both breakfast and dinner, while Yang Dongming was left to wash the dishes. With plenty of free time after dinner, Jiang Lingfeng brought over a stack of books from home and settled in the Yang family’s dining room to read.

Electricity was a precious resource on the island. Even households like the Yangs, who received special treatment as a martyr’s family, had no power at night. Jiang Lingfeng would light a kerosene lamp, and in its dim glow, he would supervise Yang Dongming’s studies while reading and taking notes himself.

With light being so scarce, Su Qingmeng shamelessly lingered by Jiang Lingfeng’s side, despite the countless disdainful glances Yang Dongming shot her. She didn’t care for reading, preferring instead to doodle on scraps of paper.

At first, Jiang Lingfeng thought she was just scribbling randomly. But one day, he happened to glance up and noticed the clean, precise lines she had drawn, a few strokes elegantly capturing the beauty of a classical ballet costume.

He hadn’t expected her to be skilled at drawing, let alone so proficient.

In his youth, when relations between China and its neighboring country were still amicable, unlike the current tension, Jiang Lingfeng had accompanied a senior official abroad and watched a foreign ballet performance. Though he knew little about dance or extravagant costumes, his memory was sharp. With just one glance, he recognized that Su Qingmeng had drawn the performance attire of that neighboring country’s ballet troupe, the flared lace tutus.

He looked at her.

She asked, “Division Commander Jiang, have you seen those foreign dancers? I heard their prima ballerina is incredible, she can do 32 fouettés.”

Then she added, “If I practice not only in the morning but also sneak in practice at night, could I become that good too?”

Jiang Lingfeng didn’t know what a fouetté was, but he remembered that the character wearing the costume she had drawn was a villain in the ballet. After spinning countless times, she would bloom like a flower at its peak, only to wither away swiftly.

The flame of the lamp wick danced in her eyes, casting a beautiful, hopeful glow. Unwilling to see that glow fade, he chose not to speak the truth and instead nodded silently.

Yang Dongming looked up and saw the harmonious atmosphere between her and Jiang Lingfeng, finding it inexplicably irritating. He stood up angrily and threw Su Qingmeng’s sketches into the kerosene lamp, burning them all.

“What are you doing?” Su Qingmeng also stood up angrily, reaching out urgently to snatch them back.

It was Jiang Lingfeng who reacted swiftly, pulling her back just in time to prevent her hand from being burned.

Su Qingmeng almost fell into his arms, sobbing with grievance. “I spent days on those sketches, and they were the most accurate ones I’d drawn. How could Yang Dongming burn them?”

Jiang Lingfeng hesitated for a moment before gently patting her back. In the dim light, he looked at Yang Dongming, perhaps because the darkness made it easier to drop pretenses.

Yang Dongming’s eyes blazed with anger, but the young man suppressed his rage. “Su Qingmeng, you can’t draw things like this!”

“Call her Aunt Su,” Jiang Lingfeng insisted firmly. As the young man glared at him with resentment, his expression remained calm, but his eyes shone with intensity. “On Nanjiang Island, I can still protect someone. And I believe Sister-in-law knows her limits, she just considers you and me as family.”

Su Qingmeng finally remembered that, in this era, as relations between China and its neighboring countries deteriorated, such things were forbidden, especially dance costumes that were clearly not of Chinese origin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that much. I just… I just wanted to study dance properly,” she apologized softly, her voice thick with tears.

Both men looked at her. Despite being the most delicate and carefree among them, she took the initiative to burn the remaining sketches herself.

The flames consuming the paper flickered like shooting stars in her eyes. Yang Dongming watched as the fire in her eyes died out. Though he had acted to protect her, he felt an inexplicable ache in his heart.

Perhaps noticing his troubled expression, Su Qingmeng stood on her tiptoes and patted his head, smiling brightly. “Our little Ming has grown up and knows how to protect his mother now.”

Yang Dongming felt as if he’d been kicked in the head for feeling sorry for Su Qingmeng. He pushed her hand away roughly and snapped, “Su Qingmeng, stop talking nonsense!”

In an instant, Jiang Lingfeng seized the hand that had pushed Su Qingmeng away, twisted it, and pinned the tall young man against the table, rendering him immobile.

His voice was icy as he said, “Call her Aunt Su.”

Yang Dongming’s arm was twisted painfully, and he gritted his teeth stubbornly. “I won’t say it!”

Jiang Lingfeng released him and said to Su Qingmeng, “Pack your things and go to…”

He had intended to say “my place,” but even though he usually acted with integrity and without fear, he suddenly felt a hint of hesitation. Instead, he said, “I’ll take you to Nurse Qiao’s place for a few days. You can come back once this kid learns to respect his elders.”

Su Qingmeng wrinkled her nose and asked bluntly, “What’s the relationship between Nurse Qiao and Commander Jiang?”

Jiang Lingfeng clearly hadn’t considered this question before. Stumped by Su Qingmeng’s inquiry, he pondered for a moment before saying, “I do remember Nurse Qiao is a local. Her parents have moved inland, so she lives alone at home. It would be more convenient for you to stay with her. Of course, if you prefer to stay at the cultural troupe’s dormitory, that’s fine too.”

But the cultural troupe’s dormitory had communal sleeping arrangements, and he recalled Su Qingmeng mentioning she wanted to practice in secret to surprise everyone.

Su Qingmeng stared at him for a long time. His gaze was sincere, without a trace of affection, and she finally let out a dry, “Oh.”

Yang Dongming watched them with a heavy expression, saying nothing before turning and rushing upstairs to shut himself in his room.

Su Qingmeng hesitated for a moment, then whispered to Jiang Lingfeng, “He’s just a child and doesn’t know any better. Let him call you whatever he wants. If he holds a grudge against you, what will you do?”

“Old Yang is gone. If I don’t discipline him now, no one will,” Jiang Lingfeng paused before adding, “Sister-in-law, Dongming will be in his second year of high school this fall. I want to recommend him for university in the capital.”

Yang Dongming was still young, he couldn’t spend his whole life trapped on Nanjiang Island. Once young people have seen the world outside, it’s hard for them to return to the island. If he were to truly involve himself with Su Qingmeng, what would become of her? Besides, in these times, if anything were to happen between a stepmother and stepson, people wouldn’t blame the young man for his immaturity, they’d only cast aspersions on the woman.

He had to protect Su Qingmeng.

That’s why Jiang Lingfeng absolutely refused to allow Yang Dongming to do anything foolish over the next year or so, even if it meant the boy would resent him for it.

“I’ll be sitting in the living room tonight. If anything happens, Sister-in-law, just call for me.” Jiang Lingfeng wanted to avoid any complications. He stayed overnight at the Yang residence and the next day took Su Qingmeng directly to Qiao Jihong’s home.

At first, Qiao Jihong was quite pleased to see him, but the moment she spotted Su Qingmeng behind him, her enthusiasm vanished. “What’s this about, Commander Jiang?”

“My sister-in-law isn’t comfortable staying at home for the next few days. I was hoping she could stay with you for a while,” Jiang Lingfeng said bluntly.

Qiao Jihong’s gaze shifted from him to Su Qingmeng. Su Qingmeng, for her part, appeared quite docile, offering a friendly smile, much like the Ragdoll cat Qiao Jihong had once owned.

Fine. For Jiang Lingfeng’s sake, she could take Su Qingmeng in for a few days.

As soon as Jiang Lingfeng arrived at the military base, Political Commissar Li Jianhua pulled him aside for a private talk.

Li Jianhua first mentioned that Chen Dayong had been confined to quarters for a week to reflect on his actions. Then he asked about the situation at the Yang household before suddenly noticing the blisters on Jiang Lingfeng’s hand. “What happened to your hand?”

“Burned it accidentally with a kerosene lamp,” Jiang Lingfeng replied indifferently.

Li Jianhua’s gaze turned scrutinizing. Jiang Lingfeng might look like a tough man, but he rarely made mistakes, let alone something like burning himself with a kerosene lamp.

He asked slowly, “I heard you’ve been escorting Old Yang’s wife to and from work lately?” He emphasized the word “wife.”

Jiang Lingfeng looked back at Li Jianhua, his expression dark. Just as Li Jianhua thought he might say something, he finally spoke: “Old Li, I’m thinking of adopting Dongming.”