The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“I will only wait for him for half an hour.”

The man was dressed in a sharp suit, standing tall and straight. With his assistants and bodyguards lined up on either side, he once again lowered his gaze to check his wristwatch.

Shang Ling turned around, the warm morning sun illuminating his visibly impatient eyes. “The countdown is over.”

The bodyguards forcibly pushed past the servants trying to stop them. Ignoring their anxious expressions, Shang Ling strode purposefully into the private elevator.

As the elevator rose, his patience continued to dwindle.

The elevator opened directly into the bedroom. Shang Ling walked to the bedside and mercilessly yanked the quilt off the bed.

Following his orders, a subordinate snapped the curtains open. Harsh sunlight poured into the dark, quiet room without warning, illuminating the layout of the space.

The bedroom was luxuriously furnished and spotless, but they were in no mood to admire it. The person who had been sound asleep was forced awake, slowly sitting up under everyone’s collective gaze.

His clothes hung loosely off his frame, revealing a large portion of a snow-white shoulder. The thin, silky fabric draped precariously over him, looking as though it might slip off at any moment.

Looking further up, his eyes were still closed, and he was clearly incensed. His frost-cold little face was completely exposed to the crowd.

Shang Ling hadn’t expected to see this scene, nor had he expected to see Yu Qing in such a state of undress.

His gaze instinctively drifted downward; bathed in sunlight, the skin of the boy’s feet looked supple and translucent. Because Yu Qing rarely walked around, his rounded toenails had a natural pinkish tint, making his feet look exceptionally delicate.

In that exact moment of Shang Ling’s distraction, an unexpected attack struck like a hailstorm. Several pillows were hurled with unerring accuracy, smashing directly into his face.

“Get out!”

“Everyone, get out!”

Caught off guard, the focused Shang Ling fell back awkwardly.

Just as he was about to sternly warn the other party not to go too far, Yu Qing suddenly snapped his eyes open.

His eyes were rimmed with red from being startled awake, his brows were tightly knit, and his full lips were pressed into a dangerous curve of fury.

He cast a cold, sideways glance that finally locked onto Shang Ling.

Their eyes met briefly, and Shang Ling’s pupils constricted

Yu Qing was grabbing the lamp from the bedside table, intending to hurl it at him!

“President Shang will be hurt if that hits him!”

“Someone will get killed!”

“Little Master!”

The panicked pleas did nothing to quench Yu Qing’s rage. The bedside lamp fell heavily from his hand; the cord snagged other items, and a series of heavy, shattering crashes startled everyone.

Under the cover of his subordinates, Shang Ling made a pathetic retreat.

The servants quickly swept the floor and laid down a layer of soft, thick carpet to ensure Yu Qing wouldn’t step on anything when he got out of bed.

The bedroom returned to silence.

After the violent exertion, Yu Qing sat on the bed gasping for air. The excessive emotional upheaval made it hard to breathe, and his chest throbbed with a dull, twisting pain.

In his mind, a mechanical male voice rang out: “Protagonist Gong, Shang Ling: Hate Value +20. Current: 95/100”

Immediately after, another exasperated electronic voice roared: “Shang Ling’s Hate Value is almost maxed out because of you!”

Yu Qing, who was already struggling for breath, was ignited by this voice. He buried his angry face in the pillow: “Ask me to please them? No!”

System 556 sighed: “My precious, if you can’t get the Hate Value down to a passing grade, you won’t survive. Why bother?”

“Then let me die!”

Yu Qing had died once before. In his previous life, he was born into a prestigious family as the only son. Though physically frail, he was the apple of everyone’s eye. If he ate even two bites less than usual, a crowd of people would panic, fearing something was wrong.

After dying of illness, he was bound to the Repentance System. He had to replace the original “cannon fodder” to repent, shamelessly suck up to the protagonist, drag the Hate Value down to the passing line, and become friends with the protagonist.

If the mission failed, he would be obliterated.

But he had been pampered since childhood,he didn’t know how to be humble or subservient.

This world followed a “Regretful Pursuit” (Crematorium) trope.

The Protagonist Gong, Shang Ling, was a young tycoon dominating the business world. However, he had lost his parents at a young age and nearly lost his family fortune to collateral relatives. If not for Yu Qing’s grandfather stepping in to help, he wouldn’t have been able to secure his position as the head of the Shang family.

The Protagonist Shou, Xi Yue, also had a tragic childhood. Neglected by his parents, he was saddled with a massive debt. Yet, he chose the most expensive path art. He never gave up on his dreams, working while studying, and eventually got into the country’s top fine arts academy, specializing in both sculpture and oil painting.

These two from different worlds met at an art gallery. Due to a series of accidents, Shang Ling misunderstood Xi Yue as having ulterior motives. Despite the deepening misunderstandings, Shang Ling couldn’t help but be moved by fate.

Later, when Xi Yue needed money to study abroad, Shang Ling appeared like a savior to offer a “sponsorship” deal, uttering the classic CEO line: “I can give you anything you want, except my feelings.”

As they spent time together, Shang Ling realized Xi Yue wasn’t what he thought. Xi Yue was brave, resilient, kind, and thrived in adversity. By the time Shang Ling realized he loved him, Xi Yue had already gone abroad. Across the ocean, the two began a game of “he chases, he runs.”

As for the “original” Yu Qing, he had fallen for Shang Ling at first sight and had been hounding him since middle school. But Shang Ling didn’t like him in fact, he loathed him,and only tolerated him out of respect for the elder generation. Driven by jealousy, the original Yu Qing repeatedly drove wedges between the leads, worsening their angst.

As for Xi Yue, they hadn’t met yet, so logically the Hate Value should be 0. But Yu Qing, dissatisfied with the system’s arrangement and throwing a tantrum, had arranged to “forcibly sponsor” (keep) Xi Yue on his first day there.

Currently, Xi Yue and Shang Ling’s Hate Values were neck and neck, both starting around 70 and fluctuating.

System 556 was at its wit’s end every day. Based on past hosts, shouldn’t Yu Qing be cautiously and fearfully trying to please the protagonist? If the Hate Value didn’t drop below passing within the time limit, or if it hit 100, the host would die in the most painful way.

Initially, 556 tried to warn Yu Qing of the severity, but it soon discovered that Yu Qing feared nothing. It was the system’s first time meeting someone whose temper was so big they weren’t even afraid of death.

“Even if you won’t please the protagonist, at least move! You’ve stayed in your room for over a month. Even the Protagonist Gong couldn’t stand it and came to take you out on your grandfather’s orders.”

Still no response. 556 was used to it—whenever it mentioned something Yu Qing didn’t want to do, he would play dumb or act dead.

This couldn’t go on. 556 had a sudden idea: “By the way, didn’t you ‘sponsor’ the Protagonist Shou, Xi Yue? Let me check his Hate Value”

“I don’t care.”

Before Yu Qing could finish, 556 shrieked in its electronic voice: “Oh my god! Xi Yue’s Hate Value toward you is actually 85! As a canary, he takes your money and dares to hate his benefactor? What does 85 mean? Shang Ling almost had his head cracked by you just now and he’s only at 90! On what grounds does a canary have 85 Hate Value for you?!”

Yu Qing, who had been rolling around on the bed trying to escape the conversation, flicked his ears at the sound. Xi Yue’s value had been stable at 75-80. Why did it suddenly jump to 85?

“He drinks the milk and then curses the mother! A typical ‘farmer and the snake’ scenario an ungrateful brat! Yu (Baby Yu), I’m angry for you!】

556 ranted with righteous indignation, its words full of “loyalty.”

Yu Qing pondered for a moment, hummed twice, rolled around twice more, and then slowly sat up. “Then I suppose I must teach him a lesson.”

556 had a point. He was indeed the one who “kept” Xi Yue, but for a whole month, he hadn’t even seen the guy’s face, let alone touched him. Getting a massive income for doing nothing—who wouldn’t be happy with that kind of windfall? He was the one giving Xi Yue the chance to chase his dreams. He didn’t expect gratitude, but Xi Yue shouldn’t be badmouthing him behind his back.

He was going out.

As he prepared to get up, Yu Qing pressed the bedside call button. Simultaneously, the mechanical voice rang in his head: “Protagonist Gong, Shang Ling: Hate Value +5. Current: 90/100”

Human emotions fluctuate, and Hate Values were no different. Only data fluctuations exceeding 5 would trigger an automatic alert. Shang Ling’s Hate Value had spiked during his rage earlier but dropped slightly after he went downstairs. However, the moment Yu Qing pressed the wake-up button, Shang Ling’s Hate Value rose again. It was clear he truly loathed Yu Qing.

…

A minute earlier, the living room was deathly silent.

Shang Ling’s expression was hideous. He had never been so disheveled, nor had he ever made such a fool of himself in front of so many people.

The servants were equally solemn. They had just arrived and already made a huge mistake letting Shang Ling barge into the Young Master’s bedroom and disturb his sleep.

While they were trembling with anxiety, the bell rang. Their expressions turned serious as they instantly became busy.

Dozens of servants in the villa began running about ironing newspapers, lighting incense, preparing breakfast, arranging flowers, setting the table…

The butler led six servants away. The extravagant display made Shang Ling even more disgusted. He’s a grown man and still needs to be waited on just to get out of bed? A giant infant?

Shang Ling followed the butler upstairs. He wanted to see just how much of a “drama queen” Yu Qing could be.

The bedroom curtains were wide open, and the light was bright. Yu Qing, having been forced awake, was still in a daze and hadn’t even heard the knock at the door.

Thus, when Shang Ling entered the room, he saw Yu Qing sitting on the bed, staring blankly.

Despite hating Yu Qing’s spoiled personality, Shang Ling had to admit that the boy raised with such refinement—was exquisite in every way. He had delicate skin, snowy complexion, and red lips. His freshly-woken chestnut hair was fluffy and soft, softening his aggressive arrogance and making him look unexpectedly docile.

But Yu Qing was anything but “docile.”

Yu Qing sleepwalked out of bed. Everywhere his feet landed, there were soft carpets. It was only when he entered the bathroom to wash up that his mind cleared slightly.

Yu Qing splashed warm water onto his face; the steam made him look damp and rosy. Milky foam slipped between his slender fingers, and due to his careless movements, a drop fell onto his foot.

In his hazy state, his feet sunken into the plush rug took on a faint pink hue.

To the side, Shang Ling’s gaze remained fixed on him—more specifically, on his feet. Shang Ling’s brow furrowed slightly. How are his feet so small?

556 suddenly noticed a fluctuation in Shang Ling’s Hate Value. Although it was only 0.5, it was enough for the system to make a scene: “Is Shang Ling crazy?! He gets more annoyed just watching you wake up? And he’s staring at you—he’s definitely a psycho.”

556 had perfectly mastered how to handle Yu Qing: always coax him and, if possible, sow discord. Otherwise, with Yu Qing’s lack of cooperation, they might reach the “death by terminal illness” finale without even meeting the protagonist a few times.

Yu Qing, who was brushing his teeth, stopped. Staring at me?

Yu Qing turned his head abruptly. The toothbrush scraped his gums, and the pain made him let out a small whimper. He spat out the foam; it was tinged with blood.

Seeing the blood, Yu Qing froze, staring blankly at the wall.

The servant waiting on him was horrified. The Little Master was bleeding! They knew Yu Qing was difficult and that he was highly favored; a tiny bump or scratch usually caused a massive scene. Before coming here, they had heard many rumors about his terrible personality that he was a spoiled brat, moody, and frequently abused the staff…

Now that he was bleeding, would he come after them? He surely wouldn’t let them off.

To their surprise, Yu Qing only frowned and continued rinsing his mouth. After confirming there was no more blood, he walked out. He had forgotten he was already dead once; the original body didn’t have hemophilia.

There were still water droplets on Yu Qing’s face. A servant hurriedly chased after him with a towel. The expected retaliation never came, and the group breathed a sigh of relief.

This batch of staff was new. The previous servants had all been dismissed by the Little Master. Even though his reputation was terrible, many were still willing to jump into the fire because the Yu family’s salary was far above the market rate.

And this Little Master’s requirements were unpredictable. Some of them weren’t even professionals; they were hired simply because he “liked their vibe.” Everyone in the industry said he was hard to serve, but if the Yu family was hiring, everyone submitted a resume.

Just how difficult he was, they didn’t know yet. In their half-month of service, Yu Qing had never looked for trouble for no reason. Occasionally, he pointed out flaws, but it was usually justified because they had indeed made basic mistakes. They secretly thought that the Little Master wasn’t as malicious or impossible to get along with as the rumors suggested.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yu Qing accepted the service as a matter of course. Someone wiped the water from his face,someone combed his hair.

Shang Ling, who was waiting, frowned again, looking very impatient. It took Yu Qing fifteen minutes just to wash up. Shang Ling didn’t understand how one person could be so high-maintenance.

Then someone came to take Yu Qing’s temperature as per the routine. The process was so tedious it was astonishing.

Shang Ling’s assistant, Lin You, couldn’t help but grumble in Spanish: “Seeing him is even worse than the rumors. He’s so extra. You’re so busy, yet your time is being wasted like this. It’s really not worth it. If not for Old Master Yu, who would bother with him? Does he really think you have to listen to him? Does he think he’s a prince?”

Yu Qing had a big temper, but he usually listened to Shang Ling. Knowing Yu Qing refused to leave the house, Old Master Yu hoped Shang Ling could persuade him. If not for the Old Master, Shang Ling wouldn’t have come. A waste of time and energy.

His boss’s tolerance made Lin You even more bold. Combined with his serious, professional expression, it didn’t look like he was gossiping, but rather reporting official business.

He was just getting into it when the youth sitting on the bed suddenly looked over: “Say that again.”

Lin You was stunned. How the hell does Yu Qing know Russian? (Note: The text later mentions Spanish, Russian, French, etc., showing the MC’s multilingualism).

Yu Qing continued in French: “Why aren’t you talking? Weren’t you having a great time talking just now?”

As an assistant, being fluent in multiple languages was a basic requirement; Lin You naturally understood what Yu Qing said. But… wasn’t the Yu family’s Little Master supposed to be a talentless brat who only knew how to throw tantrums? Why did he know Russian and French? And his pronunciation was perfect near native level.

“You were so talkative a moment ago. Now that I’m speaking to you, why are you silent?”

Yu Qing’s fingers moved slightly, making a gesture.

Lin You’s pupils shrank. The Italian trill Yu Qing just used was perfect, the ‘R’ sound very authentic, and combined with the “soulful” hand gesture, it captured the very essence of the Italian language.

Speaking a foreign language wasn’t rare, but how old was the Yu family’s Little Master? Being fluent in so many languages at once only meant one thing—his linguistic talent was extraordinary.

Lin You looked to his boss for help. Yu Qing continued to press him, switching to German: “Why are you playing dead? Do you not understand German?”

“Enough,” Shang Ling said. “Apologize to him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, so you can speak Chinese. You should have said so. When you came up and rattled off a string of gibberish I ‘couldn’t understand,’ I thought you didn’t know Chinese.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yu Qing swung his legs leisurely. His posture was relaxed, but his words were sharp, giving Shang Ling no face at all.

Shang Ling rubbed his brow, his patience reaching its limit. He warned deeply, “That’s enough.”

Yu Qing had seen Shang Ling long ago, but he didn’t want to acknowledge or speak to him. This time was different; Shang Ling’s man had provoked him first.

“Shang Ling, your person has a misunderstanding about me,” Yu Qing said expressionlessly. “From the moment you stepped into my territory, you should have followed my rules. I’ll tell you straight: in my domain, it’s not just you who has to listen to me.”

Yu Qing emphasized every word: “Everyone has to listen to me.”

The water had washed away his morning grogginess. He leaned back, posture relaxed, his soft hair falling casually over his forehead. Even while sitting, Yu Qing seemed to be looking down on them. His skin was white as porcelain, his expression cold. Noble and icy.

Shang Ling loathed Yu Qing’s arrogance and his unconscious air of superiority most of all. Yet, for the first time, he didn’t find this behavior repulsive. Yu Qing’s expression was too natural, as if he were simply stating a fact—calm yet dismissive of everything. As if he was meant to be this way.

Moreover, Shang Ling could sense that he wasn’t even in Yu Qing’s eyes. This was different from before.

Shang Ling looked up calmly. Yu Qing’s hands were braced on either side of him, sinking into the bedding. His slender, clean arms were blindingly white. His waist leaned back, and his feet rested on a footstool, heels a faint pink.

Shang Ling didn’t know how many languages Yu Qing spoke; what he did know was that Yu Qing’s feet were truly beautiful.

A servant brought a tray containing the day’s outfit and accessories. A breeze blew a sock onto the plush carpet,someone immediately moved to get a fresh one. But the carpet had just been laid, the sock wouldn’t have gotten dirty.

“The floor is clean.”

“I have a germaphobia.”

Anyone could see he was intentionally going against Shang Ling.

When the new socks arrived, the corners of Yu Qing’s lips curled slightly. His slender white fingers toyed with a cotton sock before dropping it onto the footstool by his feet.

He tilted his chin up, looking straight at Shang Ling.

“I want you to put it on for me.”

His expression was arrogant and malicious.

The room went silent.

The servants were shocked. Shang Ling’s assistant and bodyguards were equally stunned, unable to believe what they had just heard.

Ask Shang Ling to put on Yu Qing’s socks?

Was this a joke? Given Shang Ling’s status, how could he possibly deign to do such a thing? It was an insult.

And Yu Qing was indeed trying to insult Shang Ling. He had a terrible “wake-up temper,” and he still remembered the grudge of Shang Ling barging into his room, yanking his quilt, and snapping the curtains. He knew Shang Ling wouldn’t do it; he just wanted to disgust him.

Strangely, Shang Ling’s Hate Value didn’t rise. His mood remained relatively calm.

Thinking his “attack” wasn’t strong enough, Yu Qing lifted his foot and poked Shang Ling’s thigh before pulling back, resting his foot on the ornate footstool in a pampered, waiting to be served manner.

556 was terrified by Shang Ling’s expression. If the Hate Value hit 100, both it and Yu Qing were finished. But knowing Yu Qing responded to soft approaches rather than force, it could only tearfully flatter him: “Putting on socks for Yu is a blessing he hasn’t earned in several lifetimes! How dare he frown? Ungrateful thing! If it were me, I’d lick them!”

Shang Ling knit his brows. His heavy gaze landed on Yu Qing, looking extremely dangerous.

It seemed his “revenge” was working. Yu Qing smiled with satisfaction—the smugness of a successful prank.

Just as he was about to pull his foot back, his ankle was suddenly gripped with force. A strange heat sent an electric shiver up his spine. The man’s hand was large and powerful, his knuckles well defined. His skin was darker than Yu Qing’s, pressed tightly against the snow white ankle.

Yu Qing was pulled downward, forced to prop himself up on the bed with his elbows. His fingers gripped the sheets tightly, and he was nearly lying flat on the bed. His eyes were filled with fragments of panic, and his lips parted slightly from the shock, completely losing the arrogance he had just moments ago.

The corner of Shang Ling’s mouth twitched upward.

What a poor little thing?