The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Yu Qing glared fiercely at Xi Yue, parting his lips to bite the center of Xi Yue’s palm, but he couldn’t reach.

His attention was snapped away a second later by Xi Yue’s roommates. They were rowdy, their emotions flaring—likely having lost a game—as a string of curses filled the room. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor was ear-piercing, and someone stood up.

Yu Qing suddenly tensed, tilting his head slightly to peek through the gap in the bed curtains. He failed to notice that Xi Yue had released his hand and was now pinching his chin. His lip was pressed inward by a thumb, exposing his snowy-white lower teeth in a pitiful display.

A sharp sting on his tongue made Yu Qing finally realize he was being toyed with. He had a short fuse, and having endured this much in silence only out of fear of discovery, he shot an enraged glare at Xi Yue, warning him not to go too far.

Xi Yue let out a silent chuckle. He withdrew his hand and brought it to his nose, sniffing it as if evaluating a fine wine before concluding, “Mhm, very fragrant.”

“The Young Master is indeed very fond of cleanliness.”

His behavior was strange at every turn, but Yu Qing couldn’t find a specific fault to pick. He simply tilted his chin with a cold snort and said triumphantly, “I’ve always been very clean.”

After speaking, Yu Qing knelt on the bed again, cautiously peering out through the curtain gap.

As Xi Yue expected, the boy’s brow furrowed again, his eyes filled with disgust. After finishing their game, the roommates didn’t bother tidying the scraps on their desks, let alone taking a shower. They shuffled in their slippers to their iron beds, put on headphones, and began voice calls with girlfriends or flings, while others started playing mobile games.

At 1:00 AM, a new round of noise began in the dorm.

Yu Qing couldn’t imagine how anyone could rest normally in such an environment. His requirements for a sleeping environment were exacting: an ergonomic mattress, breathable handmade eiderdown duvets, and so on.

Fearing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, Xi Yue took out a pair of unopened earplugs and helped Yu Qing put them in. With the earplugs, the world finally quieted down. Yu Qing was naturally prone to sleepiness; once he drifted off, he slept deeply. Within moments, the sound of steady, long breaths reached Xi Yue’s ears.

Xi Yue sat to one side, looking down silently. The sleeping Yu Qing lay on his back. Wearing Xi Yue’s shirt, sleep had forced him to retract his sharp claws, revealing his most vulnerable and soft white belly. His hips were rounded and full, his waist narrowed sharply, and his perfect, fleshy thighs created lines that sparked wild imaginations.

Perhaps having a sweet dream, his lips parted slightly, and his lashes trembled. He looked exceptionally well-behaved.

Xi Yue propped one hand under Yu Qing’s armpit and leaned over, hooking the hem of the shirt and pulling it up to his collarbone.

How could he be so defenseless? How could he wear his clothes and present himself in such a dangerous posture?

Truly a naive young master.

Surrounded by the noisy chatter of roommates, the croaking of frogs outside, and the tiny sounds he himself was making, Xi Yue felt a surge of excitement.

Will he wake up? What will happen if he does? Will he be flustered and cry from the fright, like last time? Will he slap me?

But he was disappointed. The fast-asleep Yu Qing only frowned slightly, showing a bit of discomfort. Other than that, there was no reaction.

…

The next morning, the roommates left early. Only the two of them remained.

Inside the curtains of Bed 1, Xi Yue watched Yu Qing’s sleeping face for a while. When the time was right, he got up to wash and headed out for breakfast. By the time he returned, Yu Qing was awake.

The dorm curtains were wide open, and golden sunlight spilled in from the balcony, making Yu Qing’s skin look translucent and pure. Hearing footsteps, he turned his body slightly, his gaze flat, his right hand still lifting the hem of his shirt.

“The mosquitoes in your dorm are vicious,” Yu Qing grumbled. He looked down at his flushed skin. This mosquito certainly knew where to pick a spot.

In front of Xi Yue, slender white fingers pinched the swollen red flesh where the mosquito had bitten him, giving it a hard squeeze.

Witnessing this, Xi Yue leaned against the door, his gaze nailed to that spot, his feet frozen in place. After Yu Qing pinched it, it wasn’t as itchy as he expected, but rather a bit sore—the skin had actually broken.

He lifted his lashes, his icy eyes full of displeasure. He was clearly unhappy.

Xi Yue held several brown paper bags, likely the breakfast he’d just bought, but there was no clean table to eat on. “Young Master,” Xi Yue said, “once you’ve changed, we can eat at the cafeteria.”

Yu Qing nodded and gave Xi Yue a look. Xi Yue understood perfectly. He hung the breakfast by the bed, opened a larger bag, and hung the dust bag at the foot of the bed.

Yu Qing presented himself openly before him, arms spread and chin slightly raised, waiting to be served.

Xi Yue remained restrained and polite throughout, unbuttoning the shirt one by one without letting his gaze linger where it shouldn’t. Once the oversized shirt was off, Xi Yue brought over Yu Qing’s own shirt and a pair of black anti-slip shirt stays (sock garters).

After dressing him in the shirt, Xi Yue knelt on one knee before Yu Qing. He tucked the hem in, his long fingers brushing against the side of the thigh, hooking the black strap and pulling it down against the skin.

Yu Qing shuddered instinctively, his knees pressing together unconsciously before quickly returning to normal. His skin was delicate, and the inner flesh was particularly sensitive; as the garters brushed against his snowy skin, they left waves of red and a strange itchiness.

Xi Yue acted as though he hadn’t noticed anything wrong and continued to fix the clips. He was so pale that the contrast was stark. The black leg rings bound against the pallid skin, creating red marks where they rubbed and pressing into the soft thigh meat. The lines were beautiful and fluid, making the path of the shirt stays look alluring and ornate.

Xi Yue gently held the flesh of his thigh, tightening the garter. After snapping the last clip, he unhurriedly straightened the clothes. Next were the socks.

Yu Qing lifted a foot. Xi Yue took his ankle and placed the foot on his own thigh. He had a small frame but wasn’t lacking in “meat”; his waist and hip lines were firm and smooth. Because of the raised leg, the shirt outlined a slender, narrow waist, and his thin shorts showed the silhouette of the shirt stays.

This time, Xi Yue’s movements were a bit slow. Yu Qing lost his patience, his toes slowly grinding against Xi Yue’s knee as a silent urge.

Xi Yue looked up, seeing Yu Qing’s current expression. Neat clothes, black garters on his calves and thighs, snowy skin, red lips, and eyes beautiful yet cold. A very formal outfit, yet every detail was drenched in eroticism.

“It’s done, Young Master.” Xi Yue went to get the shoes.

Yu Qing allowed Xi Yue to hold his ankle, not forgetting to remind him: “Remember to change how you address me when there are people around.” He didn’t want to attract any weird looks.

…

It wasn’t peak hour at the cafeteria, but Yu Qing’s face alone drew plenty of stares. Someone took out a phone to sneak a photo, but a few people in the corner quickly approached them. After a brief exchange, the student’s face went pale; they nodded and deleted the photo.

The commotion wasn’t big, but no matter how discreet they were, the person involved would notice. This interlude didn’t affect Yu Qing’s mood. Sending people to protect me in the shadows? He was used to it.

The summer heat killed Yu Qing’s appetite. After a few bites, he put down his chopsticks. “Do you have many classes lately?”

“No classes for seniors. I occasionally audit a professor’s lecture.”

“Can you take me with you?”

Most university courses don’t block outsiders, but some professors mind, viewing it as a “leak” of knowledge. Yu Qing asked to avoid offending anyone.

“It’s an Art Appreciation class, mostly theory,” Xi Yue said. “You might find it boring.”

“As long as I can attend.” Yu Qing had never experienced a school atmosphere or knew what it felt like to sit in a classroom with classmates. He wanted to try.

However, Yu Qing didn’t expect it to be a small seminar. There aren’t many people in the Arts Department; a class consists of only a dozen or so people, not even filling the room.

The bell rang, and the professor began. Xi Yue thought the young master was just there on a whim, but he noticed Yu Qing’s brow furrowing or eyes lighting up with realization. His subtle expressions showed he was genuinely listening.

During the break, students flocked to the balcony to ask the professor questions. When interesting points were made, the group broke into laughter. The atmosphere between teacher and students was harmonious; in this small space, free thoughts were flying.

Yu Qing withdrew his gaze and rested his head on his arms. The tightly drawn curtains allowed a sliver of light to hit his cold, elegant face. Xi Yue was called away by the professor, leaving the room temporarily.

As soon as they left, a pink-haired girl eagerly sat in front of Yu Qing. Her eyes were beautiful and bright in the sun, showing excitement as she looked at him up close. She was so nervous she became incoherent. “Can we be friends? My name is Li Wu.”

“If there’s a chance, could you be my model?”

Yu Qing scanned her code and asked, “Model?”

“Yes, a model.” Li Wu’s smile deepened. “I’m preparing for a competition but I’ve been lacking inspiration. Lately, I’ve been looking for models for life drawing.”

“These are my works.”

The phone screen displayed exquisite paintings with strong color contrasts and bold rhythms. Her style was powerful. The paintings had one thing in common: the models wore very little. The subjects were natural human bodies, bold in movement and relaxed in expression. The atmosphere was sexy and erotic without being vulgar.

“So beautiful.” Yu Qing pointed to one. “It looks a bit like Venus at her Mirror.”

Li Wu’s work was similar but bolder, more unrestrained. The eyes reflected in the painted mirror were bedroom eyes, so expressive they felt like they could leap out of the canvas.

Yu Qing was conflicted. His first impression of Li Wu was good, and she seemed interesting. Being a life model sounded fun. He agreed.

Li Wu was bubbly and good at finding topics; she began telling stories of road trips. When Xi Yue returned, he saw Yu Qing sitting close to her, nodding along with eyes full of admiration and envy. In all the time he’d spent with Yu Qing, Xi Yue had never seen him look like that.

“Young…” Xi Yue approached. Noticing Yu Qing’s warning look, he corrected himself: “It’s time to go.”

Yu Qing’s high-spirited expression turned listless. He gave an “Oh” and whispered a few last words to Li Wu. Having secured a promise, Li Wu waved goodbye with a brilliant smile.

Yu Qing waved back, but once out of the room, he returned to his usual self—gorgeous, cold, looking over with arrogance and laziness. Yu Qing said something, but Xi Yue didn’t respond.

“Did you hear me?” Yu Qing was annoyed by Xi Yue’s distraction. He stopped and faced him, tilting his face up. “Remember to take me to the snack street tonight.”

Xi Yue gave an absent-minded hum.

Yu Qing slowly withdrew his gaze. But his calves were itchy, and the sock garters were uncomfortable, becoming more obvious after a few steps. It was hot, and being outdoors made him sweat.

He stopped near the stairwell, back to Xi Yue, his left hand propped against the cement wall. He leaned over slightly, his right hand reaching to tug at the black strap on his calf. Because he leaned over, the back of his shorts rolled up, revealing the garter pressing into his thigh. As he bent further, the ring moved up. The circular red mark on his snowy skin was glaringly obvious.

A crisp click. The garter opened.

Yu Qing was so itchy that he’d scratched messy nail marks on his calf. As he went to continue, he was scooped up from behind. Heat enveloped his back; he felt like he was in a steamer. But Xi Yue didn’t seem to realize how hot he was; sensing resistance, he only held tighter.

“What are you doing!”

He couldn’t escape, so he stayed with his back to Xi Yue, looking up fiercely to meet Xi Yue’s downward gaze.

“Young Master, you made a new friend today?” Xi Yue’s lashes fluttered. His face was pale, looking somewhat “hurt.” “I know I shouldn’t interfere, but you’re so naive. You shouldn’t let people get close. They might have bad intentions.”

Yu Qing corrected him: “Li Wu is a good person. Don’t speak ill of her.”

“She’s a good person? Then what about me?”

The question was sudden. Yu Qing hadn’t thought about it. What kind of person was Xi Yue? 556 had repeated it many times: Xi Yue was tragic yet tolerant, kind, and stubborn. Even when faced with injustice and slander, he kept a noble heart. He was like the moon in the sky, sacred and inviolable.

But Yu Qing didn’t understand. If the “Gong” Shang Ling treated him badly, why not just break up? Xi Yue had talent, looks, and strength; he could live well on his own. Why pin his emotions on a man who insulted his character and nearly ruined his career? It wasn’t just “love brain”; it was “pig brain.”

556 said that was the greatness of love. Yu Qing only snorted. If love required being hurt and losing oneself, then the “game of love” was boring beyond belief.

Receiving no answer, Xi Yue lowered his head further, his lips pressing against the shell of Yu Qing’s ear. He asked stubbornly again, “She’s a good person. What am I?”

Trapped in his arms, the male heat killed Yu Qing’s patience. He snapped, “You? You’re a dummy.”

Xi Yue’s stunned look seemed “silly” to Yu Qing. He said speechless, “Are you a fool? Your roommates bullied you so much yesterday, and you just sat there like a mute.”

Xi Yue was isolated by his roommates—the plot mentioned they were jealous of his talent and awards.

“I’m used to it, we’ve always—”

“Enough, shut up.” Yu Qing didn’t want to hear it. “They aren’t important. I am your sugar daddy. You should find ways to please me, not care about what those groundhogs think.” He looked up, his voice softening. “You want to study abroad, right? Country M? Country Y?”

“Country M’s cost of living is too high.”

“Then Country M it is.”

Xi Yue’s arms tightened before he eased up, fearing he’d hurt him. “Young Master…”

“Shut up.” Knowing Xi Yue was about to get sentimental, Yu Qing raised his lashes bossily. “If you want to go, I can make it happen. If you want to study, I can provide for you. I can afford you.” He hummed, “I have plenty of money.”

After a brief silence, Xi Yue chuckled. “The Young Master certainly has plenty of money.”

Yu Qing really was rich. His life was sustained by vast amounts of money; without it, he wouldn’t have lived to eighteen. He said this plainly, without boasting.

Xi Yue looked down at him. His skin was sickly white, but his lips were vibrantly red. His eyes were cold, his expression indifferent. He lived with true emotional freedom—laughing or raging as he pleased. This “high and mighty” existence should have been the type Xi Yue detested.

But he couldn’t hate him. Yu Qing’s eyes were too enchanting—gorgeous yet keeping everyone a thousand miles away. It made one want to kneel at his feet and kiss his toes.

Maybe he could go a bit further. Make the arrogant boy lose control and cry, watching sweat beads break out on that snowy skin before licking them off one by one.

Xi Yue suddenly remembered what someone had said to Yu Qing at the old mansion: “You’re so weak, you won’t run out of breath just from a kiss, will you?”

Would he really run out of breath?

“Young Master.” Hearing Xi Yue call him, Yu Qing looked up further, and Xi Yue happened to lower his head, his chin brushing Yu Qing’s forehead. “You really want to pay for my studies?”

“Of course. I keep my word.” Yu Qing poked the hand on his belly with a “hopeless” expression. “Study more. Don’t live or die for some man; it’s embarrassing.”

“I…”

“Fine,” Yu Qing interrupted again, impatient. “I’m spending money on you because I want to.”

In the original plot, Xi Yue initially refused Shang Ling’s sponsorship out of pride. Only after repeated setbacks did he realize how cruel the world was and contacted Shang Ling. Then came 800 words of “verbal abuse” and 300,000 words of physical and emotional torture. And Xi Yue was too aloof to explain himself. In that ridiculous plot, Xi Yue actually fell in love with Shang Ling in the end.

Even though Xi Yue’s Disgust Value was weird, he was a proud person. Yu Qing expected him to refuse the offer to study abroad. Xi Yue fell into silence.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Yu Qing wriggled out of his arms, turned around, and pointed his eyes at his socks. Obviously, he wanted the garter clipped back on.

The corner was dim, cast in shadows. From this angle, Xi Yue’s features looked deeply carved and exotic. His dark eyes were complex. After watching Yu Qing for a moment, he walked over and knelt before him as before. He held the ankle, lifting it slightly to reveal the circular red mark from the black strap, and began adjusting the clip.

Yu Qing looked thin, but because of his small frame, his flesh felt distinctly soft to the touch. The black garter made the soft meat of his calf spill over slightly, and the snowy skin was crossed with the red nail marks Yu Qing had scratched earlier.

Xi Yue endured for a long time before suppressing the urge to lick them.