The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The bedroom echoed with the man’s low, slow voice. As if one bark wasn’t enough, Xi Yue leaned over Yu Qing, specifically pressing close to his ear to enunciate clearly.

“Woof.”

He seemed terrified that Yu Qing might not hear him.

The excessive proximity gave Yu Qing the illusion that his private territory was being invaded. However, they had done much more intimate things than this; now, it was just a close conversation. If he truly flew into a rage over this, it would seem like making a mountain out of a molehill.

“Fine, stop barking,” he put on a mean face and offered a malicious critique. “It sounds terrible.”

After pushing Xi Yue away, Xi Yue stubbornly tried to crawl back up. Yu Qing shot him a cold glare and kicked him without mercy; Xi Yue rolled off the bed onto the floor with a dull thud.

Having been humiliated repeatedly, a normal person would have snapped by now, but Xi Yue remained composed. He even found this version of Yu Qing adorable. He propped himself up from the floor, intending to climb back onto the bed, but his movements suddenly froze.

Yu Qing felt uncomfortable. He leaned sideways to pull a tissue from the nightstand and, right in front of the man, bit his own collar to pull it up while using the tissue to wipe the area beneath his collarbone.

Seeing him looking over, Yu Qing knitted his brows and shot him a sharp glare before hooking a finger: “Come here.”

Xi Yue climbed onto the bed. As soon as he got close, his collar was seized and yanked down. He ended up prone against Yu Qing’s chest, his hair being tugged. Dazed, he looked up to meet Yu Qing’s flushed face.

Yu Qing’s eyes still held tears, yet he maintained his fierce attitude: “Wipe your filthy mess off.” He added, “Disgusting.”

“Will there be a reward?”

“Hm?”

Yu Qing’s body and voice were both soft. He tilted his head sluggishly. Xi Yue spoke again: “You said before that if I did well and satisfied you, there would be a reward.” Xi Yue asked, “Will there be one this time?”

Yu Qing had indeed said something similar, though it had been a casual remark at the time. He was always generous to those around him; as long as they could please him, he didn’t mind giving material rewards. Previously, when Xi Yue successfully took him to the night market—though he didn’t know what methods Xi Yue used—he had gotten his wish, so he had given Xi Yue a piece of jade.

“Of course there will be,” Yu Qing lifted his chin. “As long as you do a good job, there will be a reward.”

Facing such a haughty Little Master, how could Xi Yue dare to resist? With a look of forced restraint, he took the tissue and began seriously wiping the bad-tempered boy’s body.

But as he wiped, Yu Qing’s brows twitched strangely again, and his eyelashes fluttered. No matter how expensive a tissue is, the surface is still uneven; the bursts of itching as it brushed his skin made Yu Qing unable to stop twisting his waist.

Once Xi Yue finished wiping the sweat from Yu Qing’s body, he suddenly flipped Yu Qing over.

“Little Master, I’ve come to claim my reward.”

Yu Qing squinted his misty eyes, his snowy-white teeth biting his own finger, looking completely lost. His face was a mask of confusion. From behind him came Xi Yue’s muffled voice, making the words sound indistinct.

Lying on the pillow, Yu Qing’s lashes trembled, shedding a tiny droplet of water. He wanted to get up and shout a harsh warning, but he only managed a whimper that sounded like a long stretch.

…

The summer heat was intense, and Yu Qing was covered in sweat. Xi Yue carried him to the bathroom to wash him thoroughly, then used disposable towels to wipe him clean. Throughout the process, Yu Qing’s face was scrunched up in resistance; he kicked Xi Yue from time to time, making no effort to restrain his foul temper.

After taking a kick, Xi Yue naturally grasped Yu Qing’s calf, his well-defined knuckles sinking slightly into the soft muscle. With his other hand, he took a towel and patiently wiped away the water droplets.

It was very late, and Yu Qing was feeling drowsy again. When he lay back on the bed, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. The most frustrating part was that the bathroom was transparent!

The male physique was faintly visible through the swirling white steam, completely unhidden by the transparent glass walls. With just one glance, Yu Qing grew even angrier. He buried his face in the pillow and hissed through gritted teeth: “Pervert!”

556 marveled: 【Wow, truly impressive. This is the first time I’ve seen a protagonist like this. What an eye-opener. How can someone enjoy this?】

Although 556 hadn’t watched the whole “show,” just the beginning was enough to shock it. Yu Qing lay on the bed, his small hand covering his backside: “Is it a requirement here that you can’t be a protagonist unless you’re a pervert?”

【My poor baby, kiss-kiss, let me pat your bottom. Is it okay?】

“You… shut up!” After a moment, Yu Qing turned his head back aggrievedly. “I can’t see it!”

【Want to take a photo and check?】

Yu Qing nodded and took a photo with his phone. He zoomed in to look; fortunately, there was no bleeding. But the area was still swollen from “overuse.” His flesh was naturally delicate; subjected to multiple “assaults” in one day, it certainly couldn’t handle it.

At five in the morning, Yu Qing was getting sleepy when a notification popped up. It was Lu Feng.

Ever since the blind date ended, Lu Feng would message him whenever he was free, though the messages were all vapid. Things like: What are you doing? Have you eaten? Are you hungry? I miss you. Yu Qing had been too lazy to deal with him from the start. Later, seeing how talkative Lu Feng was, he simply set the chat to “Do Not Disturb”—out of sight, out of mind.

Before sleeping, Yu Qing wanted to kill some time. With the mindset of teasing a dog, he opened Lu Feng’s chat. As expected, the conversation was as boring as ever. He scrolled to the bottom.

Lu Feng: Woke up early for work, so sleepy. [Airport.jpg]

Yu Qing lay on his side and carelessly sent back a cold emoji. That emoji, however, ignited Lu Feng’s passion. He sent a string of messages.

[Up so early? Why not sleep more?] [If you’re going to have breakfast, the food at XXX restaurant is good, I’ll have someone deliver it.] […] [What are you doing? I miss you so much.]

Yu Qing felt goosebumps all over. “How can he be so greasy?”

556: 【I bet his next line is asking to see you.】

Lu Feng: [I want to see you.]

Yu Qing / 556: “…”

The conversation was even more hollow than expected. Yu Qing slowly sent a voice message.

In the business class lounge, Lu Feng, who was listening to a subordinate’s report, gestured for a pause and put on his headphones.

“Then beg me.”

Perhaps because he had just woken up, the end of Yu Qing’s sentence trailed off. Combined with the high-fidelity headphones, it sounded as if he had pressed his lips to the ear, whispering with a lingering breath.

A surge of electricity traveled from Lu Feng’s eardrums to his entire body. He felt completely weak. His mouth curved into a high arc because of this voice message under 4 seconds long; the gloom brought by the business trip vanished instantly.

He had no sense of burden. In front of his subordinates, he didn’t care about his image at all and spoke into the phone: “I beg you, Little Prince.”

“I miss seeing you so much. You must be very beautiful today.”

The subordinates flipping through documents looked horrified. They stared at Lu Feng in disbelief. Seeing their boss looking so infatuated, they twitched their mouths and lowered their heads. It wasn’t that they didn’t know Lu Feng had several “scandalous partners,” but Lu Feng’s only requirement for them was that they stay alive; he never contacted them except to send money.

Lu Feng wasn’t a believer in love. He thought emotions were thinner than paper; anything that could be solved with money wasn’t worth using feelings for. This man, who didn’t believe in love, held anti-marriage views, and didn’t even care to date, was now using such tender, mushy… “greasy” words to coax someone.

They looked at each other, wondering if they should tell the boss that normal people can’t stand that level of “greasiness.” But the person the boss was pursuing didn’t seem normal either. Soon, Lu Feng received a reply. Whatever the other party said, his smile wouldn’t stop.

Then, Lu Feng’s smile abruptly froze. He immediately shielded the screen with his hand, his expression turning blank and dazed. A second later, his throat bobbed, and his ears turned an unnatural red. He moved his hand a bit to see the screen clearly, and whatever he saw made his expression turn to disappointment.

Lu Feng was filled with regret. Had he known, he would have saved the photo the moment Yu Qing sent it. But he hadn’t been psychologically prepared; he had been too shocked to even look properly. Now that he wanted to look, Yu Qing had already retracted it.

Why would Yu Qing send him such a photo? Did he want to take things further?

Lu Feng had never seriously dated. If the partner was Yu Qing, it didn’t seem bad. But they had only met once—was the progress too fast? He looked at the screen, wanting to act a bit reserved, intending to ask “What did you send? I wasn’t looking,” only to find he was no longer a friend.

He had been blackmailed—er, blocked.

Thinking Yu Qing was angry because he hadn’t responded in time, Lu Feng unhesitatingly tried to re-add him, writing apologies in the friend request.

A subordinate reminded him: “President Lu, it’s time to board.”

Lu Feng hummed and walked forward, his fingers never stopping. Ten minutes passed, and Yu Qing still hadn’t accepted the request.

“President Lu, that Little Master from the Yu family… he seems to have a thing for the one from the Shang family…”

“Just rumors, don’t take them seriously.”

Lu Feng had heard such gossip, but rumors were just rumors. He knew best what was true and what was false. If Yu Qing really liked Shang Ling, how could he have gone on a blind date, and how could he have sent him that kind of photo?

Seeing the subordinate wanting to speak further, Lu Feng interrupted coldly, adopting a business-like tone: “You don’t understand.”

You don’t understand love, and you don’t understand them.

…

The Return of the “Brother”

On the other side, Yu Qing had been annoyed for a long time because of his “slip of the hand.” Anger aside, he still needed to sleep. When he woke up the next day, a pair of arms reached for him. He instinctively hung himself on the other person, his body as soft as if he had no bones.

“Little Master, what do you want to eat today?”

“Mmm…” Yu Qing didn’t answer, just making meaningless sounds. Eventually, he tilted his head, resting his forehead against Xi Yue’s neck. “I don’t want hotel breakfast. Just buy whatever you see fit.”

After helping Yu Qing wash up, Yu Qing curled back into bed. It was too sunny outside; he didn’t want to leave the air-conditioned room. Xi Yue took the spare key card and left to find breakfast, not forgetting to message Yu Qing: If any strange person knocks, do not open the door.

Yu Qing only replied with a [Angry Cat.jpg] emoji, clearly dissatisfied with being treated like a child. Playing with his phone on the bed, Yu Qing was indeed unhappy. Am I an idiot? Why would I just open the door for anyone?

Just as Yu Qing was about to take a nap, Old Master Yu called him.

“Baby, are you up?”

“I’m up.” Speaking to his elder, Yu Qing had a clinginess he didn’t even notice. “Grandpa, don’t call me baby. I’m not a child anymore.”

Old Master Yu chuckled but didn’t deny it, following his lead: “Then, the ‘not-a-child’ Xiao Qing, are you still angry at Brother Shang Ling?”

Shang Ling? What did this have to do with him? If Grandpa hadn’t mentioned him, Yu Qing would have forgotten he existed. “I’m not angry at him.” He snorted disdainfully. Does Shang Ling even deserve my anger?

Yu Qing could never hide his thoughts; his arrogance was clear to Old Master Yu. The old man laughed, asking if Yu Qing had anything he liked lately and mentioning several properties. Yu Qing wasn’t very interested. Then Old Master Yu said: “These were all prepared for you by your Brother Shang Ling.”

“…”

“He really knows he was wrong. He wants to start over with you. Be the bigger person and forgive him this once.”

If Shang Ling had said this to his face, he would have slapped him and told him to get lost. But since it was Old Master Yu: “I’m really not angry, Grandpa. You don’t have to speak for him. I’m not that petty.”

“Grandpa is really worried about you living alone outside. If you don’t want to live with Shang Ling, you can move to the new house. Hotels are too dirty,” Old Master Yu added. “Or, since you’re not angry, let him pick you up and take you back, okay? It’s his birthday next week.”

After a long moment of hesitation, Yu Qing reluctantly said “Okay.”

He actually liked the hotel; there was a strange sense of freedom that made his mood bright. Old Master Yu talked about the birthday banquet, but sensing Yu Qing’s lack of interest, he soon hung up.

The moment the call ended, there was a knock at the door.

Thinking it was Xi Yue back with breakfast, he didn’t even put on slippers. He rolled off the bed and ran to the door. When he opened it and saw the visitor, his face went blank, then his brows knit together. “What are you doing here?”

It was Shang Ling.

Despite Grandpa’s good words, Yu Qing still couldn’t put on a good face for him. Today, Shang Ling looked unwell—too pale, his lips bloodless, as if he had been sick.

“Come in,” he said dismissively.

As soon as Yu Qing turned around, his wrist was caught. Before he could explode, Shang Ling’s raspy voice came: “You’re not wearing shoes.”

“Your health is poor, you’ll catch a cold. You can’t go without shoes.”

Yu Qing glared at him. At it again with the lecturing? “Then carry me.”

Shang Ling, who supposedly should have hated him, actually reached out his arms—not for a piggyback, but for a bridal carry. After placing Yu Qing on the bed, Shang Ling couldn’t suppress his restless heart. He checked every trash can. The room hadn’t been cleaned yet; if something had happened, there would be traces.

The trash cans were mostly empty—no used “protection.” Shang Ling breathed a slight sigh of relief. For safety’s sake, he even checked under the bed. Yu Qing sat on the edge of the bed, leaning on his hands, unable to comprehend Shang Ling’s neurotic behavior.

“What is he doing on the floor? Looking for cockroaches to eat?”

556 didn’t get it either. The “Tyrannical CEO” Shang Ling, rummaging through trash cans regardless of his dignity? Who would believe it?

After his inspection, Shang Ling returned to Yu Qing. His slightly improved complexion suddenly darkened when he saw the marks on Yu Qing’s knees. His amber eyes turned terrifyingly dark, like decaying wood.

Uncomfortable under the gaze, Yu Qing moved his legs, accidentally revealing a finger mark hidden under his trousers. Shang Ling then realized Yu Qing’s clothes were a size too large—clearly another man’s shirt. Sleeping in another man’s shirt, lingering finger marks on his legs, and scrapes on his knees like he had been kneeling until the skin broke.

Even a fool would know what Yu Qing had experienced. He suddenly thought: even if there were no “wrappers” in the trash, what did that prove? Maybe Yu Qing allowed Xi Yue not to use them? The thought made him feel even more desolate.

Shang Ling hadn’t slept all night. He had reflected deeply and realized he was in the wrong. Yu Qing was six years younger; it was normal to have different ideas. Young people today pursued “fast-food” love and passion; he had no right to demand Yu Qing be exactly like him. He should see things from Yu Qing’s perspective.

But Shang Ling still couldn’t accept it. How could Yu Qing kneel on the floor and do that for another man? Yu Qing had been pampered since childhood; a single scratch would worry everyone. Why should Xi Yue, a penniless student, deserve Yu Qing’s submissive service?

…Even if someone were to help, it should be Xi Yue helping Yu Qing. Xi Yue wasn’t worthy.

The knees that were slightly red yesterday were bruised today. It didn’t hurt much, but it looked serious. To Shang Ling, the bruise was like ink staining his heart. Looking at the surrounding delicate skin, his rage grew. He knelt before the bruised legs, his hand trembling as he reached for them, yet he was so afraid of hurting Yu Qing that he didn’t actually touch.

Shang Ling had always known Yu Qing was smaller than average, but he didn’t realize he was this fragile. His long fingers curled; he could easily encircle that exquisite ankle. Raised with elite training in the US, Shang Ling’s hands weren’t soft like Yu Qing’s; they were calloused from shooting and horsemanship.

Yu Qing felt uncomfortable. His knees instinctively pressed together, and his eyes grew wary. “Shang Ling, you’re hurting me.”

Those words made Shang Ling release him as if he’d been shocked. This tall, handsome man was actually flustered by a single sentence. Combined with his pale face, he looked quite pitiable. He looked up at Yu Qing; the Little Master’s face was cold and expressionless. Dejected, Shang Ling lowered his lashes and brought his face closer to the knee injury in a masochistic gesture. “I’m sorry.”

Yu Qing was surprised. Hearing an apology from the arrogant Shang Ling was a rarity. Seeing Shang Ling looking like he had more to say, Yu Qing’s eyes darted around. He hummed and reached out to pat Shang Ling’s head: “Keep talking.”

“Were you… yesterday…” Shang Ling suddenly clenched his jaw, his handsome features struggling to suppress some emotion. His breathing turned heavy. He took a breath and rasped, “…were you with Xi Yue?”

He didn’t have the courage to finish.

“Yeah, we kissed.” There was nothing to hide, and Yu Qing didn’t like lying. He even proudly lifted his chin. “I’ve had a kiss.” He was showing off, like he had checked a famous tourist spot off his list.

Shang Ling should have been devastated, but seeing the slight curve of Yu Qing’s red lips, an inexplicable heat rose within him. He thought of last night. Yu Qing being cupped by the face and kissed, his lips being sucked forcefully. He looked like he was in pain, tears in his eyes, panting, yet he never pushed the man away. Because it felt good. So good his shoulders hunched and his legs shook.

“…Oh, is that so?” Shang Ling was being driven mad by the memories in his head. His throat bobbed. It took a long time to squeeze out a shameless sentence: “Then can you teach me? I’ve lived this long and never kissed.”

“I’m still a… virgin.”

After saying it, even Shang Ling was shocked by his own thick skin. But he kept staring at Yu Qing, his gaze burning with hunger.

Yu Qing was always unpredictable, and since he was bored with no one to play with, his malicious side took over. He hooked a finger at Shang Ling. Like a pet summoned by its master, Shang Ling immediately crawled forward on his knees.

Yu Qing sat on the bed, Shang Ling at his feet. Because of Shang Ling’s proximity, Yu Qing could easily step on Shang Ling’s thigh. Shang Ling was tall; Yu Qing could easily pinch his chin. With just a slight lean, their noses touched.

At that moment, Shang Ling opened his mouth slightly, eager to kiss. Yu Qing’s expression turned icy. “Did I say you could move?”

Shang Ling immediately froze, looking at him with eyes that were urgent yet forced into restraint. His erratic breathing and bloodshot eyes made him look like a cornered beast. But this beast couldn’t act recklessly; he knew if he did something Yu Qing disliked, all his efforts would be for naught.

Shang Ling’s attitude was obedient. Even though his face and neck were flushed deep red, he didn’t move. Yu Qing liked obedient people. A wicked curve touched his lips. He rested one hand on Shang Ling’s shoulder, cupped the man’s face with the other, and slowly lowered his head.

The moment their lips touched, Shang Ling’s mind went blank. While Shang Ling was dazed, Yu Qing stuck out his tongue and slowly licked the man’s thin lips. Yu Qing was a fast learner; though Xi Yue had kissed him into a daze yesterday, he tried to recall the details. He clumsily traced Shang Ling’s lips with his small tongue.

From light licks to slow kisses, when Shang Ling opened his lips slightly, Yu Qing kissed his way in. He tried to mimic how Xi Yue sucked his tongue, giving Shang Ling’s tongue a tentative suck. A muffled groan escaped Shang Ling’s throat—it sounded like pain mixed with extreme pleasure.

They were so close. Shang Ling’s heart was pounding like a drum; a look of near-lost control appeared on his face. A wet, warm tongue was wandering in his mouth like a lost fish. Yu Qing was serious, approaching it with the rigor of a teacher. To show off his “skills,” he would give small sucks from time to time. Hearing Shang Ling’s heavy breathing, he couldn’t hide his smugness.

That’s enough time to stop.

Yu Qing prepared to retract his tongue, but his cheeks were suddenly pinched, forcing his mouth wider. Simultaneously, he was lifted by the hips. To his shock, Shang Ling picked him up. Yu Qing was forced to wrap his legs around Shang Ling’s waist; the man was his only support. Shang Ling thrust his thick tongue into Yu Qing’s mouth and began striding toward the window.

Yu Qing’s mouth was turned into a mess by the inexperienced Shang Ling, but Shang Ling sucked with rhythm, drawing on the root of the tongue repeatedly. Yu Qing felt his soul leaving his body; his spine and bones turned to mush. Constant whimpers escaped him like a kitten.

His back hit the massive floor-to-ceiling window. The curtains had been drawn at some point; the bright daylight made Shang Ling’s sharp features look as cold as the kiss was ruthless.

“Mmm… stop… stop…”

Yu Qing was unhappy with Shang Ling’s sudden disobedience. He bit Shang Ling hard, but that only made Shang Ling more excited. He slammed Yu Qing against the window, sending the kiss even deeper, nearly reaching the throat. The loud impact made Yu Qing feel as if the glass were shattering; terrified, he instinctively squeezed Shang Ling’s waist.

Yu Qing’s vision went white. He was scared and couldn’t breathe, but he had learned how to catch his breath. The suffocating feeling forced him to respond; he was forced to kiss back, to suck the man’s tongue, to snatch oxygen from his mouth.

The stimulation in his mouth triggered his tear ducts. He kissed back while crying, his small face a mess of wetness and desire. In the end, it was Yu Qing’s tongue and mouth that suffered the most, turning sore and numb.

In his daze, Yu Qing found a sense of familiarity in this predatory kiss. So familiar. Xi Yue had kissed him just like this. Sucking his tongue, lifting him into the air, pinning him against the wall. Forcing him to rely entirely on the man and respond proactively.

Being his first kiss, Shang Ling lost his sense of proportion. When they separated, his face was flushed, looking like a snarling beast. As Yu Qing caught his breath, he gave Shang Ling a ruthless slap.

He rested his hands on the man’s shoulders, gasping for air. Transparent saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining his shirt translucent. Even though he couldn’t breathe, it didn’t stop him from being furious. He gave Shang Ling another loud slap.

His voice, still breathless, rose: “I said when I say stop, you stop. Understand?”

He looked incredibly seductive—his expression was dazed and surreal, yet he was trying to look mean. Shang Ling was itching to go again, but fearing angering him, he barely maintained his composure. “I understand.” He rasped, “Next time… next time you say stop, I’ll stop.”

After answering, Shang Ling’s face suddenly changed. After the intimacy, his instincts made him sharply sense the presence of a third person in the room. He turned his head.

Standing at the entryway was the young man, Xi Yue. He was holding the breakfast he had just bought, and no one knew how long he had been standing there watching.