The Vicious Cannon Fodder Despised by Everyone Really Doesn't Want to Go Viral - Chapter 26

The Mid-Mountain Equestrian Center was nestled within the embrace of rolling mountains a few kilometers away from the film studio. Far from the hustle and bustle of city traffic, the view was a lush expanse of greenery where the whistling wind and crisp birdsong clamored in the ears.

All around were endless, undulating grassy slopes. The wild grass bowed under the weight of morning dew, its edges meeting patches of low shrubs and sparse pine trees. Not far away, several chestnut and white horses grazed leisurely with their heads down, occasionally flicking their tails to drive away flying insects. A winding path stretched along the slope, leading to a viewing platform at its end, facing a thin, trickling waterfall.

Back when Lin Zhiyu sat at his office desk, he often complained to his friends that he was the ultimate “ox-horse” (corporate slave). Even a donkey in a production team did not work this hard. Looking at things now, however, he realized that some horses, even while on the clock, lived much more leisurely lives than he did.

This thought was further solidified after he was smacked by the tail of the large chestnut horse selected for him by the stable staff. Fake “ox-horses” could act bossy toward customers while at work, but real “ox-horses” still had to bow and scrape to their bosses in the middle of the night.

Lin Zhiyu let out a heavy sigh.

Hearing the sound, Jiang Yubai turned his head in confusion. “What is wrong?”

Lin Zhiyu shook his head. Seeing that Jiang Yubai was already mounted on his white horse, Lin quickly stepped into the stirrup under the protection of the staff and swung himself over with a burst of strength.

The slim cut of the equestrian suit made his legs look exceptionally long and straight, while the fitted vest cinched a narrow waistline that looked as if it could be completely encircled by a single hand. His usual casual demeanor was thoroughly hidden, replaced by an air of abstinence and aloofness.

Jiang Yubai’s gaze inadvertently swept over him, pausing for a brief moment before he looked toward the distance as if nothing had happened.

After that “NG” (No Good) take the other day, Zhao Jinyu had pulled them aside for a talk. She said they were like “the most familiar strangers,” which was why their coordination in the scenes always lacked a certain flavor. The familiarity lay in the back-and-forth between the brothers Xie Zhuoyu and Xie Yunce, which they both performed according to the script’s descriptions. The strangeness, however, was that he and Lin Zhiyu were truly “separated in spirit,” failing to spark the chemical reaction Zhao Jinyu wanted.

Thus, the kind-hearted Director Zhao specifically gave them a day off to go out and find that feeling. She had even suggested several options, such as day trips to amusement parks or arcades. Considering they had horse-riding scenes coming up in a few days and Lin Zhiyu had never been on a horse, the two eventually settled on the equestrian center as their destination.

Lin Zhiyu gripped the reins tightly. Compared to his “approaching a formidable enemy” expression, the large chestnut horse beneath him was far too relaxed. It seemed entirely indifferent to the novice’s movements, leisurely clopping its hooves toward the center of the field.

Lin Zhiyu felt like his head was about to be shaken dizzy.

Jiang Yubai expertly squeezed the horse’s flanks with his legs, and the white horse approached Lin Zhiyu with a steady gait. He reminded him softly, “Relax a bit. Do not be so tense; you will get exhausted if you stay stiff like that.”

Lin Zhiyu tried his best to adjust his posture, attempting to look the part. Unfortunately, his haughty equine companion was not very cooperative. The moment Lin relaxed his grip slightly, the chestnut horse mischievously tossed its head, as if mocking his clumsiness.

“Are you doing this on purpose just to mess with me?” Lin Zhiyu muttered indignantly.

Watching his embarrassed state, Jiang Yubai could not help but laugh. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, hiding a hint of youthful playfulness.

“You are still laughing!” Lin Zhiyu pulled the reins and shot him a glare, beginning to vent in mock outrage. “Logically speaking, we are here today to cultivate our bond. In theory, you should be treating me as your most respected elder brother all day. Never mind that you have not said ‘Brother’ a few times to make me happy; you are actually standing there watching me make a fool of myself!”

After speaking, Lin Zhiyu even raised a hand to mock-wipe away tears. At this, Jiang Yubai was even more amused. He leaned down, gave a short whistle to Lin Zhiyu’s horse, and lightly patted the chestnut horse’s neck. “Alright, be good.”

Surprisingly, the horse seemed to truly understand his words. After a quick stomp of its hooves, it curbed its playful nature.

Lin Zhiyu breathed a sigh of relief. Looking at Jiang Yubai’s gentle, smiling face, he asked curiously, “You actually have this skill?”

Jiang Yubai nodded, his tone steady. “I was in a drama before where I played the male lead’s lieutenant. I had three months of intensive equestrian training before joining the cast. My instructor was from Inner Mongolia and grew up on horseback; I learned a bit from him.”

After hearing this, Lin Zhiyu lamented in a small voice, “No wonder you got famous so fast. With this kind of drive, anyone would feel inferior.”

Jiang Yubai did not catch what he was mumbling and was about to ask when he saw Lin Zhiyu already pulling the reins to move forward.

The mountain breeze was cool as the two slowly rode along the path toward the viewing platform. The scenery became increasingly open, and the warm sunlight filtered through the gaps in the pine needles to dapple the ground. The air was thick with the fresh scent of greenery and soil.

Halfway there, Lin Zhiyu’s movements grew more proficient, and his nerves settled. He began to lazily recite Xie Yunce’s lines—not with the emotional depth or clear articulation used during filming, and without caring for the logic of the context. Sometimes, he even took the liberty of changing a few words.

Jiang Yubai was infected by his mood and followed suit, responding casually.

“If I could, I would want to protect you for a lifetime, so you could forever remain the young master of the Xie family who never grows up. But the world is treacherous; one day you will realize,” Lin Zhiyu paused, then let out a resigned laugh. “Forget it, what is the use of telling you now? Here I am shielding you from the wind and rain, while you spend all day running wild. I do not even know how many complaints the Discipline Elder has filed this month.”

“Teacher, my Zhuoyu says there is no part in the script about him running wild,” Jiang Yubai said, somewhat helplessly.

Lin Zhiyu glanced at him. “But how come my Yunce says that for a brat like Xie Zhuoyu 1.0, you have to give him a good thrashing?”

As the two were haphazardly reciting lines from a non-existent script, a sudden burst of rapid hoofbeats came from behind them. Lin Zhiyu turned back in a daze, only to see a young man dressed in a black equestrian suit galloping toward them on a pure black steed.

His messy short hair flew wildly in the wind, and sunglasses obscured half his face, but his identity could be guessed from the arrogant set of his jaw. Lin Zhiyu quickly turned his horse to move out of the way, but he had not expected the black horse to be faster than he imagined. Before he could react, it charged right up to them. Mu Yunji pulled the reins, and the black horse came to an elegant, sudden stop, kicking up a cloud of dust from the ground.

Mu Yunji took off his sunglasses and swept an extremely peculiar gaze back and forth between the two of them. The muscles on his face twitched uncontrollably. “Bloody hell. I was wondering why my smart home system warned me this morning that today was not a good day to go out.”

Lin Zhiyu followed his gaze to Jiang Yubai, thinking to himself: You silly dog, you do not even know how to talk properly. If you are not going to use that mouth for anything good, I suggest you donate it so you do not have to spend another hundred chapters chasing your love interest.

“Teacher Mu.” Jiang Yubai raised an eyebrow, inconspicuously leading his horse to stand between Lin Zhiyu and Mu Yunji. “Why are you here too?”

“Why else? I am bored, so I came over with some friends for a bit of fun.” Mu Yunji shook his sunglasses, casually wiped them on his vest, and stuffed them into his pocket. “They are all playing golf nearby. I do not know how, and I find it boring. As for you two,” Mu Yunji sneered and said to Jiang Yubai, “since when did you get so close to him?”

Lin Zhiyu began to wonder if he should slip away first to give the main couple some space. Jiang Yubai did not seem to care about Mu Yunji’s barbed comments, his voice remaining gentle. “We are collaborating on a project recently, so we came out to find some inspiration.”

Mu Yunji’s mocking gaze swept toward Lin Zhiyu, who was mostly hidden behind Jiang Yubai. Seeing Lin with his head tucked in, wondering what mischief he was plotting now, Mu Yunji suddenly laughed again. “With the speed of two old ladies crossing the street, why bother riding at all? Want to go up and have a race?”

“No,” Jiang Yubai said. “It is Zhiyu’s first time riding; it is not safe.”

“Tch.” Mu Yunji nodded slightly, turning the name “Zhiyu” over in his mind a few times. When he looked at Lin Zhiyu again, the provocative intent in his eyes was almost overflowing. “A beginner on the road? But even so, there is no need to just crawl in a small circle. How about it?”

Lin Zhiyu’s expression became quite the sight. Being able to let this “ancestor” of a horse walk steadily was only thanks to Jiang Yubai’s guidance and the horse’s own mercy. Asking him to race was no different from asking for his life.

Mu Yunji, with that trashy mouth of yours, I sentence you to not catching your love interest for two hundred chapters, Lin Zhiyu cursed silently.

But then, a flash of inspiration hit him. He poked his head out from behind Jiang Yubai and said with a beaming smile, “Sure. No need to go all the way up to compete; how about we just race to see who reaches the viewing platform first?”

Mu Yunji’s eyes darkened, then he raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by Lin’s readiness. “Fine.” He hooked his lips into a roguish grin. “But since we are racing, there has to be a stake.”

Lin Zhiyu replied dismissively, “We will talk about that once we are up there. You do not actually think you will not make it to the platform, do you?”

Mu Yunji snorted coldly. “Who are you looking down on?”

“Then let us begin. We start on the count of five.” As Lin Zhiyu spoke, he turned his horse diagonally, blocking the path in front of Jiang Yubai.

Jiang Yubai gave him a questioning look. Lin Zhiyu winked back with a sly smile. Unfortunately, Mu Yunji did not notice this interlude. As soon as the five-second countdown ended, he shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yubai’s white horse was blocked by the chestnut horse and could not start; it was even forced to take a few steps back because the other horse was reversing. Seeing Mu Yunji’s back disappear around the bend, Lin Zhiyu leaned down and said gleefully to Jiang Yubai, “Let us run!”

Jiang Yubai was confused. “?”

“There is an informant at the stables; I am requesting a change of location for the transaction,” Lin Zhiyu said, pulling the reins to turn around. “My love for Mu Yunji has turned to hate. I am scared just seeing him now. If he wants to race, he can race by himself.”

He looked like a cunning fox. The sunlight turned the tips of his hair golden, and his turned waist created a beautiful curve. His eyes were narrowed slightly, shimmering with a soft, velvety light.

Jiang Yubai’s heart involuntarily skipped a beat. Only after a long pause did he chuckle, “Alright.”

With that, he pulled his reins and rode back with Lin Zhiyu.

“But if he gets to the platform and does not see us,” Jiang Yubai began.

“We will just say I am unskilled and fell off, and you had to rush me to the hospital. Then we will praise him a bit, saying he won and is truly amazing. Young Master Mu will be overjoyed and will not even realize we stood him up.” Lin Zhiyu could not help but imagine Mu Yunji waiting triumphantly on the platform, probably having already rehearsed his bragging rights.

He burst out laughing, teasing, “He is such a grown man, yet he acts like a primary schooler.”

Suddenly, Lin Zhiyu’s eyes widened. He looked toward the entrance of the equestrian center in shock and immediately fell silent. He saw Mu Sui sitting in the rest area, a golden retriever circling his wheelchair, wagging its tail and panting.

The golden retriever was lively, rubbing against Mu Sui’s legs repeatedly, its tail wagging like a propeller. From time to time, it stood on its hind legs to paw at the wheelchair’s armrest, seemingly seeking a friendly pat on the head as a reward. However, the cold and heartless Mr. Mu kept his fingers curled on his lap, showing no intention of acknowledging it.

Jiang Yubai clearly saw this scene too and instinctively turned to check Lin Zhiyu’s expression. “Why is Mr. Mu here too?”

At this moment, only one thought occupied Lin Zhiyu’s mind: Thank goodness I tricked Mu Yunji into leaving. Otherwise, this really would be a massive, four-person Shura Field.