The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Long before Yu Qing and Shang Ling’s kiss ended, Xi Yue had already returned.

The hotel was located in a prime commercial district; buying breakfast didn’t take much time. He had hurried back, terrified the food would get cold and lose its flavor, worrying that the Little Master wouldn’t get a hot meal.

But such worry was entirely unnecessary. In this summer heat, food wouldn’t cool down that quickly. It was all a self-indulgent, performative sacrifice on Xi Yue’s part—meaningless in reality, serving only to touch his own heart.

He returned to the hotel filled with anticipation. Before opening the door, Xi Yue was like a pet dog about to see its owner, joyful and excited. However, the moment he saw the second figure in the room, his wagging “tail” froze into a dangerous arc.

Yu Qing had opened the door for someone else after all. Even though Xi Yue had warned him about “bad people.”

But he could understand Yu Qing. After all, Shang Ling was the one in Yu Qing’s heart. To Yu Qing, Shang Ling wasn’t a bad person; he was the person Yu Qing yearned to see.

Xi Yue stood at the door, a cold spectator to it all. He thought they would notice him, but the two were too engrossed, kissing from the bedroom to the floor-to-ceiling window as if no one else existed.

Today was a bitter harvest of Xi Yue’s own making. He thought that by kissing Yu Qing first, he had gained the lead—a rare advantage. But Yu Qing didn’t care about the kiss, didn’t care if it was a “first,” and didn’t care who the partner was.

Xi Yue should have realized long ago: the pampered Yu Qing lacked nothing. He lacked no resources, and certainly no love.

Though he was a master of endurance, Xi Yue felt an uncontrollable rage. Even more pathetic was that amidst the tangle of emotions, he derived a twisted sense of pleasure. Yu Qing’s reactions were too beautiful—the subtle expressions, the uncontrollable whimpers—he was a perfect work of art.

Having lurked for a long time, Xi Yue was finally noticed. Shang Ling moved with lightning speed to shield Yu Qing’s face, hiding him away like a dragon concealing its newly acquired treasure.

But what use was hiding now? Everything that should and shouldn’t be seen had been witnessed, seared into Xi Yue’s mind, never to be forgotten.

“Xi Yue.”

Shang Ling’s voice was full of disdain. A normal person wouldn’t spy on such private behavior, let alone stand in the entryway like a pervert, watching the whole thing in silence.

Yu Qing hadn’t fully recovered yet. Hearing the name, he propped his head up and looked over Shang Ling’s shoulder toward the hallway. Their eyes met. Xi Yue’s eyes were, as always, flat and abyssal, making it impossible to glimpse his true thoughts.

But Yu Qing didn’t care to peer into others’ minds; having people read his face was the natural order of things. His gaze drifted down to the brown paper bag in Xi Yue’s hand. The aroma of breakfast hit him, and he swallowed, struggling to get down.

Shang Ling didn’t want to let go, but he was afraid of making Yu Qing angry. Their relationship had finally grown a bit closer; he didn’t want to lose that progress.

…

The War over Breakfast

Xi Yue followed Yu Qing into the living room, unpacked the bag, and took out the containers. Shang Ling sat on Yu Qing’s other side first, moving faster to open the lids for him. Not to be outdone, Xi Yue tested the temperature before picking up a soup dumpling with chopsticks and bringing it to Yu Qing’s mouth. Shang Ling’s eyes practically spat fire at the sight.

Unaware of the friction, Yu Qing bit into the dumpling. The broth was savory and the meat tender; he loved it. He had a classic Chinese palate and preferred traditional breakfast. After a few bites, some soup inevitably stained the corner of his mouth. Xi Yue pressed a wet wipe to his lips, wiped him, and continued feeding him.

Yu Qing felt it was a bit odd. He was spoiled, but not so much that he couldn’t feed himself. Xi Yue hadn’t been this attentive before. He glanced sideways; Shang Ling’s face was solemn, his gaze deep.

Actually, Shang Ling wasn’t staring at him—he was staring at Yu Qing’s mouth.

Is Shang Ling jealous because Xi Yue is feeding me?

The more Yu Qing thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Although he had kissed both of them recently, the “law of attraction” between protagonists meant they were destined to fall in love. Feeling generous today, Yu Qing stood up, took the food container, and left the living room to give them some private time.

Before leaving, he cast a magnanimous look back, as if saying: You’re welcome.

The moment Yu Qing left, the two men sitting upright on the sofa stood up instantly. An invisible battle surged between them, the atmosphere turning heavy and oppressive.

“What did you two do last night?”

Shang Ling hadn’t wanted to ask. He had soothed himself countless times, telling himself it was fine—even if Yu Qing truly slept with Xi Yue, he could accept it. Yu Qing was young and liked to play; he should be understanding. But seeing the marks on Yu Qing’s knees, his rage was unavoidable.

How does Xi Yue dare? How worthy!

In Xi Yue’s eyes, Shang Ling’s behavior was nothing but “impotent rage.” Shang Ling clearly knew everything, yet he sought the answer from Xi Yue’s mouth like a masochist.

“What did we do?” Xi Yue spoke slowly. His voice was low and steady, making him sound indifferent to everything. Many people, including Shang Ling, were fooled by this facade of high-mindedness. Now, Xi Yue deliberately lowered his voice, drawing out the final syllable. The smirk on his lips made him look frivolous and debauched.

Seeing this, Shang Ling could imagine how Yu Qing was being toyed with and deceived. Vile.

Contempt and loathing appeared on Shang Ling’s handsome face. Under that hostile gaze, Xi Yue enunciated clearly: “I spent the whole night licking the Little Master.”

Shang Ling froze. He frowned, trying to discern the truth of the statement, his lashes dipping slightly—a habit when he was thinking. Xi Yue had no reason to lie. If Yu Qing had truly been willing to help Xi Yue “that way,” Xi Yue would have bragged about it; the blow from such a truth would be more devastating than anything. Xi Yue wouldn’t miss that chance.

He had prepared for the worst, yet Xi Yue was telling him the “awful things” he imagined hadn’t happened. So, Yu Qing hadn’t helped Xi Yue like that.

As this conclusion dawned on him, Shang Ling felt a strange sense of relief. His expression even softened, and he gave Xi Yue an appreciative look, as if saying: Good of you to know your place.

After the relief came uncontrollable curiosity. Shang Ling knew it was a private matter he shouldn’t ask about, but since it involved Yu Qing, he couldn’t help it.

“Licking… where?”

Xi Yue’s gaze turned cold as he silently distanced himself from Shang Ling, clearly offended. For the first time in his life, Shang Ling received a look of such utter disgust, as if he were some unspeakable vermin.

His question was indeed rude. Every time he tried to suppress his curiosity, he would envision Yu Qing’s expression at the time—or worse, he would project himself into the scenario. Such behavior was immoral and shameless; in the past, he would have loathed anyone for such filthy thoughts, yet now he had become that person.

…

The Jade “Birthday Gift”

Yu Qing finished his breakfast and washed up. He changed his clothes and walked out to see the two men in the living room. Warm sunlight streamed through the window; such bright light usually exposed any facial flaws, yet both remained stunning in their different styles. They were nearly the same height, their auras clashing—they really did look like a “pair.”

Yu Qing hummed. He had a bad temper, but he didn’t like breaking up couples. Ten minutes ago, 556 had told him that Shang Ling’s mission was also judged a success. However, because he finished too early, he couldn’t leave the world yet. He had to stay for one more month. After that, the “Arrogant Young Master” would die of natural causes. Because of his excellent performance, the system promised a painless departure.

Yu Qing didn’t feel much about it. He never wanted to do the missions anyway; finishing was an accident. Perhaps it was because “death was near,” but he felt a bit sentimental. Looking at the two well-matched men, he actually saw a “married couple resemblance.” The “abuse” plot from the description never happened, and Shang Ling wasn’t as arrogant as when they first met. Yu Qing figured their future path of love would be smooth.

He didn’t notice that the moment he stepped out, both men’s eyes were fixed solely on him.

Yu Qing yawned and lazily walked between them. Under their confused gazes, he took one of each of their hands and pulled them together. Just as Xi Yue and Shang Ling’s skin was about to touch, the two rivals acted with perfect synchronicity—they yanked their hands back with lightning speed and stepped back, looking physically sick, as if they might vomit.

“Little Master…” “Qingqing…”

They spoke at once, then stopped, glaring at each other with unconcealed loathing. Yu Qing didn’t take it to heart. He figured his temper had altered the plot, causing their romance to develop at a snail’s pace. It seemed he wouldn’t see their wedding before he left. Not that he cared; weddings were boring.

“Grandpa told me to move back to your house. But don’t get too excited—if you make me angry again, I’m leaving,” Yu Qing said tonelessly. Even knowing Yu Qing was reluctant, the fact that he was willing to come home was enough to make Shang Ling ecstatic.

Back at Shang Ling’s house, the man had already brought over the servants Yu Qing was used to and replaced all the home fragrances with Yu Qing’s favorites. Shang Ling kept chattering in Yu Qing’s ear about how much he had changed for him, trying to gain even a little favor.

Anyone else might have been moved, but not Yu Qing. His original family in his own world was a top-tier clan; he was used to everyone pampering him. Resources, wealth, and status were like the air he breathed. Therefore, Shang Ling and Xi Yue trying to trade “kindness” for “affection” was a foolish tactic. Sincerity or falsehood didn’t matter to him; he didn’t care.

Yu Qing didn’t lack love; everyone loved him. Being loved was the most commonplace thing in the world to him. Thus, he had the confidence to easily push away the love others offered.

As Shang Ling kept rambling, Yu Qing lost his patience. The moment his brow furrowed, Shang Ling had the sense to shut up. Xi Yue was busy smoothing out the bedsheets. Yu Qing looked over; Xi Yue had done a perfect job, the sheets so flat not a wrinkle could be seen.

“Good job.”

“Little Master,” Xi Yue didn’t miss the chance to make a request. “I have a competition next week. Will you come to see it?”

Shang Ling’s face turned icy. Again. Always that submissive, weak act—a low voice full of humility and expectation, combined with deep eyes to create the perfect melancholic aura. Yet it was exactly this look that captured Yu Qing’s favor.

Yu Qing glanced at Xi Yue: “We’ll see. If nothing important comes up, I’ll go.”

Despite the ambiguous answer, Xi Yue’s lips curved with joy, as if he’d been given a grand gift: “Thank you, Little Master.”

Shang Ling’s teeth nearly cracked. Xi Yue was too calculating. He knew Yu Qing liked to be followed and praised, so he tailored his personality to Yu Qing’s tastes. Despicable.

Just then, a cord slipped from Xi Yue’s collar. As he turned, a jade landscape pendant came into view. Shang Ling’s gaze locked onto Xi Yue’s back, veins bulging on his hands.

That jade pendant… Yu Qing had ordered it months in advance. It was his birthday gift.

Every year, Yu Qing meticulously prepared a gift for him. A while ago, Lin Yu told him that Yu Qing had found a master carver months ago, picking the stone and the landscape pattern himself. Shang Ling had been looking forward to it, deliberately not asking to keep the surprise. He had even secretly asked the butler for photos and saw pictures of Yu Qing falling asleep while staying up late to work on it.

Shang Ling was touched and felt even more guilty toward Yu Qing. Yu Qing had once given him his whole heart; now it was his turn to return the favor. But now, the gift meant for his birthday was hanging around Xi Yue’s neck.

Yu Qing had given his birthday gift to Xi Yue.

The moment Xi Yue left, Shang Ling grabbed Yu Qing’s wrist, his expression looking incredibly aggrieved: “That’s mine.”

“What?”

“The jade around Xi Yue’s neck.” Shang Ling had waited so long for that gift; how could he not feel wronged? His voice was raspy, and because the disappointment was so great, his eyes actually welled up. He stared stubbornly at Yu Qing. “You made that for me.”

Yu Qing felt a sudden wave of awkwardness. The jade had been for Shang Ling, but during that time, he hated the man so much he would rather slap him than give him a gift. But now, Shang Ling was looking at him with such a pitiable, wronged expression.

Shang Ling’s hand moved from the wrist to the shoulder, holding him face-to-face. “Qingqing,” Shang Ling whispered, mimicking Xi Yue’s submissive, pitiable look. “You had that custom-made for me, but you gave it to someone else.”

Yu Qing had never suffered, so he easily felt sympathy for “weaker” beings—stray animals or elderly beggars. He tolerated Xi Yue’s temper largely for this reason. But Shang Ling didn’t look “weak” at all—why was he making that face?

Yu Qing bit his lip, not knowing how to explain, a strange sense of guilt rising. He turned his head away. “You saw wrong. It’s not that one.”

“It is that one,” Shang Ling insisted stubbornly. “It’s mine. You can’t give it to someone else.”

Yu Qing never realized Shang Ling was so childish. It was just a piece of jade; didn’t Shang Ling have plenty? Why obsess over this one?

“It’s mine. Qingqing, you can’t give it to others.”

Yu Qing was getting annoyed, especially with Shang Ling looking like he was about to cry. Finally, he snapped: “Fine, I’ll give it to you.”

“I want that one. You know which one.”

“…I know.”

Having gotten his way, Shang Ling hugged Yu Qing. Their chests pressed together, and the warmth through their clothes allowed Yu Qing to feel the man’s joy.

Is it really that exciting? Over a piece of jade? You Qing couldn’t understand.

…

The “Old Man” and the Competition

Shang Ling had a meeting in the afternoon. Before leaving, he warned Xi Yue: “At the hotel, you took advantage of Qingqing’s innocence. Now this is my house, not a place for you to act wild. Don’t think your dirty deeds won’t be noticed, Xi Yue. Have some shame.”

Shang Ling hated being so blunt—it was a businessman’s habit—but facing this college student, he couldn’t suppress his pure malice. He loathed this presence that shouldn’t be near him.

After Shang Ling left, Yu Qing began unboxing gifts in the living room. Xi Yue stood on the stairs, his mind sinking as he recalled Shang Ling’s words. He began purposefully searching the house. Most modern homes have security cameras, especially a house like Shang Ling’s. He spent some time memorizing every camera location, including the hidden ones.

Back at the company, Shang Ling was checking meeting notes. Successful people didn’t have time to party all day; managing a massive enterprise required constant energy. Before he decided to stalk Yu Qing, he had compressed half a day’s work into his break time to solve it. Recalling his sneaky behavior, he still felt disbelief—that he had done something so immoral.

His secretary, Mi Lu, noticed the slap mark and two clear scratches on his face. Like they were made by fingernails. She and Lin Yu exchanged a look. “President Shang, your face… should we take care of that?”

A major meeting was coming up; such a face was unseemly. Shang Ling looked at himself in his phone. Yu Qing had hit him hard and even scratched him. Quite the temper.

Despite the thought, his lips curved into an obvious, sweet smile. The subordinates were horrified. “Did the Little Master do that?”

“Yes,” Shang Ling replied calmly. “I made him angry.”

“Oh, I see…” Mi Lu asked, “Should we use concealer?”

Shang Ling nodded. Mi Lu took out makeup to teach him, but the man seemed naturally allergic to cosmetics. He stared at the items, baffled. “How about I help you, President Shang?”

He almost said yes, but then remembered something. “Forget it, just teach me again.” He was afraid Yu Qing would be angry, even though he knew the boy wouldn’t care about such a small thing.

Since it was an in-person meeting, he couldn’t use too much or he’d look cakey. Mi Lu’s skin was good, so her products were sheer. After a while, it was only partially covered. Shang Ling looked in the mirror and decided it was enough. No one would be staring at his face; it was a meeting, not a blind date.

He sat down, and indeed, no one stared. After brief greetings, everyone spoke to their own staff. Then, the glass doors opened, and Lu Feng walked in, looking exhausted from two flights. The moment he entered, his eyes were drawn to the faint scratches on Shang Ling’s face. Shang Ling looked at him, remembering the blind date, his expression cold. He didn’t explain the marks; he just sat there, letting the man look.

Lu Feng’s instinct told him it was Yu Qing. Thinking of Yu Qing, he felt helpless. Yu Qing still hadn’t accepted his friend request—actually, he finally did, probably because he was annoyed. Lu Feng kept apologizing for not replying instantly.

[Yu Qing: That’s it? Just say what you want and stop being annoying.]

Lu Feng, sitting right next to Shang Ling, received the reply. So cute.

[Lu Feng: Dinner tonight? I miss you.] [Yu Qing: No time. I’m playing games. If you message me again, you’re dead.]

Yu Qing sent an [Angry Cat] emoji to show how “fierce” he was. To Lu Feng, it was just adorable.

“Are you chatting with Qingqing?”

The meeting hadn’t started, and Lu Feng playing with his phone was eye-catching. Lu Feng repeated playfully: “Qingqing?” He added, “President Shang, it’s the 21st century. Those old-fashioned nicknames aren’t in style anymore.”

In Lu Feng’s eyes, Shang Ling and Yu Qing were just like brothers. But on his flight, he heard rumors about Yu Qing pursuing Shang Ling. Though he could write it off as hero-worship, he was jealous. Brother? Ridiculous. Are they even blood-related?

Shang Ling deliberately showed the side of his face with the scratches, hissing as if in pain. He told Lin Yu, “Have Mi Lu bring the concealer. I need to cover this.” He spoke with a tone of helpless indulgence, “Qingqing hit me too hard.”

Lin Yu: “?” Didn’t we already do that?

As a good assistant, he sensed the tension. “Certainly, boss. You spent all night coaxing the Little Master, you must be exhausted. Want some ginseng tea to perk you up?”

The room went silent. Everyone stared at Shang Ling. The man played along, rubbing his temples with sudden “exhaustion.” “Go ahead and pour it.”

His assistant was damn clever.

Lu Feng’s expression went blank, then darkened with interrogation. He hadn’t thought in that direction, but slap marks and scratches were too suggestive. He couldn’t help but think back to the photo Yu Qing sent—it was blurry, but there had been red marks on his snowy skin. Like they were gripped by fingers. No way.

“You two were together last night?” Lu Feng’s voice turned cold.

Shang Ling gave an indifferent hum. “Qingqing has a bit of a childish temper. If he did anything to mislead you, please be patient. But President Lu, those weren’t his true intentions. He doesn’t like ‘old men’.”

Old men.

Lu Feng’s face crumbled. Several partners nearby couldn’t help but snort-laugh, then immediately pretended to read their documents, coughing loudly.

Lu Feng’s chest heaved. He laughed—a cold, furious sound. He was thirty, in his prime, successful, mature, and handsome. And he was being called an old man.

Shang Ling felt great. Usually, he found such verbal attacks beneath him, but seeing Lu Feng’s “suffering in silence” made all his frustration vanish.

Lin Yu brought two cups of tea. One for Shang Ling, one for Lu Feng. Shang Ling added fuel to the fire: “You’re welcome, President Lu. Respecting our elders is a traditional virtue.”

…

The Day of the Competition

On the other side, Yu Qing was playing games with Xi Yue, his mind a mess. He regretted promising Shang Ling to take the jade back. He had already given the gift—how could he ask for it back? It was all because Shang Ling acted so pitiable.

Yu Qing thought he was hiding his thoughts, but his constant dazing and frustrated expressions gave him away. Xi Yue put down the controller. “Little Master, is there something I’ve done to please you?”

“No…” he mumbled. “Actually, I have something to tell you.”

Xi Yue nodded, his dark eyes looking at him with the right amount of vulnerability. Yu Qing bit his lip. He wanted to save face and couldn’t bear to take back a gift, but he had promised Shang Ling… So annoying!

Xi Yue stroked Yu Qing’s lip with one hand. “Little Master, did something happen? You can tell me, I’ll be very obedient.”

The submissive attitude made Yu Qing feel guilty. He decided to just get it over with. He grabbed Xi Yue’s wrist and closed his eyes. “Remember that jade I gave you?” He trembled with embarrassment. “Give it back to me…”

The wrist he was holding went stiff. Yu Qing knew this was terrible of him. “I’ll buy you a better one, a more expensive one!”

“Little Master,” Xi Yue lowered his gaze. “You said that was my reward.” The shadows on his face made him look profoundly depressed. If he had thrown a fit, it would be fine, but he looked hurt.

Yu Qing bit his lip. “That jade isn’t even that good. I’ll get you a better one.”

“What if I just want this one?” Xi Yue forced a smile. “Forget it, it was a gift from you. If you want it back, take it.” His low voice and trembling lashes made him look incredibly fragile.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Yu Qing felt terrible. He stroked Xi Yue’s face and, not knowing how else to coax him, proactively kissed his mouth. As Xi Yue froze, Yu Qing said unnaturally: “Fine, what’s so good about that broken jade? It has so many inclusions. Only an idiot would like it. I’ll pick an even more expensive one for you, okay?”

Xi Yue stared at him. Yu Qing hugged his waist and looked up at him with his snowy-white face. “I’ll buy a matching pair for us.”

“A pair?” “Mmhmm!”

Xi Yue looked down at Yu Qing’s innocent expression. In Yu Qing’s mind, a “pair” didn’t carry romantic weight; he forgot that any “matching pair” was inherently an intimate act. Even if he didn’t want to give it up, if Yu Qing wanted it, Xi Yue would give it. He took the jade off; it was still warm from his body when he placed it in Yu Qing’s palm.

“Little Master, will you be free next Sunday? I hope you can see my competition.”

“What time?”

“Starts at noon, ends in the evening. You can just come for a bit in the afternoon.” A drawing competition took a long time, and Xi Yue knew Yu Qing couldn’t sit still. He just wanted a glimpse of him.

Sunday?

Yu Qing remembered Shang Ling’s birthday banquet was on Sunday, starting at noon. It was a business event, and as a friend of the family, Yu Qing had to be there. He’d be busy all day with styling and details. But squeezing out a little time for Xi Yue’s competition should be okay, right?

Yu Qing agreed.

…

The weather forecast said it would be sunny, but Sunday brought a torrential downpour and thunder. Yu Qing kept his promise and made time to go to the competition venue during his busy day. But the rain was too heavy; the event had moved indoors and everyone was busy moving things. He didn’t see Xi Yue.

He didn’t have much time. Old Master Yu reminded him it was time to leave. Yu Qing messaged Xi Yue, but there was no reply. Feeling like he hadn’t fulfilled his promise, he pointed at a dessert shop across the street. “Grandpa, I want that.”

Shang Ling looked at the rain. Before the old man could speak, he told the driver, “Drive over there.” He added, “Grandpa, Qingqing hasn’t had much appetite lately. Let him eat what he wants.”

Old Master Yu laughed. “I haven’t said a word yet! How did I become the villain who won’t let our baby have dessert?”

Shang Ling bit his lip. He wasn’t an open person and felt embarrassed by the teasing, his face turning red. But he didn’t argue. He looked at Yu Qing. Today, he was the star of the banquet, dressed formally with his hair swept back, looking mature and handsome.

“Wait for me. I’ll go down and buy it.”

“I’m coming too. I want to pick it myself.”

Shang Ling got out first to hold the umbrella for him. The black umbrella shielded them from the rain. Shang Ling pulled him into his arms, his arm almost trembling as he held Yu Qing’s waist. Yu Qing didn’t pull away; fearing the rain, he huddled closer to Shang Ling.

As they walked on the sidewalk, passersby whispered: “Is that a celebrity?” “With that body, he must be a model…”