The Vicious Cannon Fodder Despised by Everyone Really Doesn't Want to Go Viral - Chapter 10

When Mu Sui returned, all the lights in the living room were extinguished, save for the eerie, flickering glow emanating from the television.

Lin Zhiyu was slumped silently over the coffee table. A ballpoint pen had slipped from his fingertips and wedged itself into the soft carpet, surrounded by sheets of paper covered in messy, handwritten notes. His wolf-cut hair was scattered untidily against his cheeks. The curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows remained open, allowing the moonlight to flow into the room like water, draping Lin Zhiyu in a silver veil.

His loungewear clung softly to his curved back, and the shifting light caught the wide neckline and his fair, delicate neck. Mu Sui maneuvered his wheelchair closer. His shadow blocked the faint light falling on Lin Zhiyu’s face, causing the younger man’s long, thick lashes to quiver slightly in the cool air.

Mu Sui’s gaze swept darkly over the elegant arch of Lin Zhiyu’s brow, lingered briefly on his slightly parted, moist lips, and then slid downward following the contours of light and shadow.

He hadn’t intended to come back.

After finishing work this afternoon, he had returned to the main estate to have dinner with Old Master Mu, only to run into Mu Qiongyu bringing Mu Yunji for a visit. The three generations did not see eye-to-eye; the Old Master barely ate a few bites before scowling and retreating to his room. Mu Sui had spent the meal exchanging expressionless barbs with his own father, losing any desire to stay a moment longer.

Mu Qiongyu’s reason for forcing him to marry Lin Zhiyu was easy to guess. Old Master Mu refused to relinquish power to his own son, keeping most of the Mu family’s business dealings in Mu Sui’s hands—even after the car accident three years ago had left him a “useless man” with troubled legs.

What Lin Zhiyu did at the Old Master’s birthday banquet had simply provided Mu Qiongyu with the final bit of fuel for his fire. He hoped Mu Sui would be left without an heir, forcing the Old Master to reconsider his succession plans after weighing the options.

Unfortunately for him, he had miscalculated.

Mu Sui casually pulled at the button on his collar, his tensed back suddenly relaxing as he leaned against the headrest of the wheelchair. After a long silence, he finally let out a long breath. The old estate was much larger than this apartment, yet every corner of it felt suffocating.

The television volume was set very low, and The Truman Show was playing on the screen. Beside him, Lin Zhiyu slept on, completely unaware that another person had entered the house. Mu Sui lowered his eyelids, his dark eyes staring intently at the boy’s face, finding the situation somewhat amusing.

When Lin Zhiyu finally opened his bleary eyes, the first thing he saw was Mu Sui’s face, flickering in and out of view under the dim light of the screen. The man’s pale, thin lips were set in a flat line, and the cold light cast a sharp shadow beneath his ink-dark eyes, giving him an especially chilling, menacing aura. Beneath his crisp, tailored suit, his shirt collar looked as though it had been violently torn open, and even his sickly pale skin could not hide his inherent aggressiveness.

Lin Zhiyu’s heart gave a violent jolt. For a moment, he felt as though he had fast-forwarded straight to the “dark room” chapters of the original book, imagining that Mu Sui was about to pull a thick leather whip from the side of his wheelchair.

He shivered instinctively. However, because he had been sitting cross-legged for too long, his circulation was cut off. He could barely feel his numb legs, and as he tried to scramble away from Mu Sui, he fell to the carpet with a heavy “thud,” landing on his knees.

Mu Sui remarked, “This gesture is a bit too grand. I cannot accept such a deep bow.”

Lin Zhiyu rubbed his aching calves and looked up at him wearily.

Mu Sui asked again, “Why do you look as if I am about to swallow you alive?”

Perhaps not yet fully awake, Lin Zhiyu blurted out a rebuttal. “You should be grateful I do not have the habit of hiding weapons on me while I sleep. Otherwise, anyone who wakes up to find a stranger standing over them would instinctively assume it is a thief. Rather than being silenced by a criminal, the first reaction is to fight to the death.”

Mu Sui hadn’t expected him to have such active thoughts the moment he opened his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched as he said, “What kind of thief would be foolish enough to climb thirty-two floors to commit a burglary?”

Lin Zhiyu grabbed the coffee table and stumbled to his feet. “You never know. What if he is an urban acrobat or a Spider-Man type? In the neighborhood where I lived right after graduation, a thief once climbed all the way down from the roof of the building next door…”

Lin Zhiyu suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He looked down and met Mu Sui’s scrutinizing gaze. He rubbed his nose awkwardly, wanting to play dumb but not knowing where to start.

“You graduated?” Mu Sui asked.

For some reason, Lin Zhiyu felt a sinister undertone in Mu Sui’s voice. Before marrying the original Lin Zhiyu, Mu Sui must have investigated his entire history. He would naturally know that the boy had never actually finished university. It was all because his mind was foggy and he had spoken too quickly.

“Not really,” Lin Zhiyu laughed it off. “I dropped out of university to chase my entertainment dreams. I am technically still a high school graduate. I was just browsing urban horror stories online, and my brain got scrambled. I meant a netizen said that in the neighborhood he rented in after graduation… a thief got in.”

“But did you not say you were not coming back tonight?” Lin Zhiyu quickly changed the subject, seeing that Mu Sui didn’t seem inclined to dig deeper.

Mu Sui rubbed the armrest with his fingertip and asked back, “Did you hope I would not come back?”

What kind of question is that? Lin Zhiyu thought. Is that something I would dare to hope for, or something that would come true even if I did?

“How could I? This is your house and your home. You can come back whenever you like.” Lin Zhiyu gave him a smile, then patted his groggy head and limped into the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

As the numbness in his legs had not yet faded, Mu Sui heard him muttering from the bathroom: “Two people in one house, and we cannot even produce one good pair of legs.”

When Lin Zhiyu finished washing his face and came out, Mu Sui had already moved his wheelchair next to the sofa and was quietly watching the television screen. The pen that had fallen onto the carpet had been picked up at some point and placed next to one of the papers. The messy notes on the coffee table had not been touched, remaining exactly as he had left them.

Lin Zhiyu gathered the scattered papers together, aligning the edges on the table while stealing glances at Mu Sui’s expression.

Sensing his gaze, Mu Sui turned his head. “Not going to sleep?”

Lin Zhiyu caught a yawn but shook his head. “I have to join the production in a few days. I need to squeeze in some last-minute study.”

“Did you not say before that you did not want to act?”

At this, Lin Zhiyu could not help but let out a sigh. “Sometimes fate just likes to play tricks. The more you do not want something, the more it comes to you,” Lin Zhiyu said dejectedly. “But now that the contract is signed and the script is in hand, I cannot just go up there with amateur acting skills. The audience’s lives matter, too.”

Back in his university days, he had been traumatized by many dramas with exaggerated acting. Having stood in the rain himself, he did not want to tear down someone else’s umbrella. Furthermore, the salary the Blue Bird production offered was not a small amount. If he took the money without doing the work, his meager conscience would truly suffer.

“If you want to rest, I will turn the volume down further. It is all in English anyway, so it is not very useful…”

Mu Sui glanced at him and said, “No need.”

A few minutes later, Lin Zhiyu sat with his legs tucked in, stealing glances at the motionless wheelchair beside the sofa. He felt an awkward prickle of unease. He wanted to ask Mu Sui why he wasn’t going back to his room, or suggest that he could just watch the movie tomorrow, but seeing the man sitting there so formally, the words died in his throat.

The original book never mentioned that Mu Sui enjoyed movies, he thought.

Lin Zhiyu turned on the floor lamp next to the sofa, and a warm yellow light spilled out softly. On the screen, the scenes shifted as Truman struggled helplessly within that fake world. When Lin Zhiyu first watched this movie in university, he had wondered if everything around him also followed a predetermined track. Fate, the future, and life—everything settled into place invisibly, and no matter how one struggled, they could not escape.

Just like…

He could not help but look at Mu Sui again. Mu Sui’s gaze was very focused. The dim glow of the screen traced his cold features, but it was impossible to tell what kind of expression he wore or what he was thinking.

Thoughts swirled in Lin Zhiyu’s mind. The cold light from the TV and the warm light from the lamp seemed to draw a boundary between him and Mu Sui. For a moment, he felt the man was very far away, as if separated by a thick fog. But in another moment, he felt they were very close, like the book at his hand that he might touch if he weren’t careful.

He wondered: if Mu Sui knew one day that he was merely a character in someone else’s book, that his life was no different from Truman’s and followed a set path, what would he do? Would he also doubt reality, struggle bitterly, and explore the truth behind everything?

Lin Zhiyu did not realize he had been lost in thought for too long or that his gaze on Mu Sui was far too intense. After several breaths, Mu Sui turned his head and met the boy’s blatant stare. He finally could not help but ask, “What are you looking at?”

Mu Sui’s words snapped Lin Zhiyu back to reality. He withdrew his gaze, having no intention of sharing his thoughts. Instead, he forced a smile and leaned on his knees, saying playfully, “I just thought Mr. Mu is very handsome, so I looked a few more times.”

The slightly curled ends of his hair brushed against his small chin, and his light brown eyes looked like pure amber. His dimples flickered in the light.

Mu Sui looked away, let out a muffled “Heh,” and said nothing more.

The two sat there, one in front and one behind, and silently finished the entirety of The Truman Show. When the movie ended, Mu Sui maneuvered his wheelchair toward his bedroom without a word. Lin Zhiyu, still tidying his notes, looked up in a daze.

The motion-sensor light at the corner of the hallway turned on, casting a shallow shadow on the white wall. The wheelchair moved slowly, yet Lin Zhiyu inexplicably felt that Mu Sui’s back looked somewhat lonely.

However, he quickly shook his head, tossing aside those unrealistic fantasies.

Never pity a man; it only leads to misfortune.