The Vicious Cannon Fodder Despised by Everyone Really Doesn't Want to Go Viral - Chapter 29

The moon’s silvery radiance spilled across the floor, and tiny specks of dust danced within the cold shafts of light. A slightly swaying shadow was cast in the corner of the room. The silhouette of the person by the bed was blurred, yet they seemed to be staring at him, unmoving.

Lin Zhiyu’s heart hammered violently, and his breath hitched in an instant. He strained to let his eyes adjust to the darkness while countless thoughts raced through his mind. For a split second, he even considered lunging in resistance, striking first to gain the upper hand regardless of the consequences. But the moment he recognized the man’s face, all his impulses were suppressed.

Lin Zhiyu whispered tentatively, “Mr. Mu?”

The person remained silent. His eyes were open, dark and heavy like the deep sea. His gaze lingered on Lin Zhiyu’s face for a few seconds before slowly drifting toward the window.

Lin Zhiyu was now fully awake, his heart beating like a drum. He followed the man’s line of sight, only to find a peaceful night view outside. Windows of countless high-rises flickered with sporadic lights, and stars were scattered across the obsidian sky. Everything was profoundly silent. What was there to look at?

Confused, Lin Zhiyu looked back at him for a moment and reached out to click on the bedside lamp. The warm yellow glow suddenly flooded the bed, and Mu Sui’s figure finally became clear.

“Mu Sui? Mr. Mu?” Lin Zhiyu called out softly, uncertain. “What are you doing?”

The man by the bed had his eyes slightly lowered, his face devoid of expression. He stood there, yet his demeanor was like that of a puppet with its mainspring removed, a hollow, deathly void.

Lin Zhiyu’s head buzzed. He leaned forward hesitantly, terrified of startling him. He lowered his voice and muttered to himself, “Are you sleepwalking? But why?”

Why was he able to stand while sleepwalking? Lin Zhiyu’s gaze swept over the legs wrapped in gray silk pajama pants. Likely due to years of sitting in a wheelchair, his legs did not show exaggerated muscle definition.

Is this a medical miracle? A bizarre thought cropped up in Lin Zhiyu’s mind: Did he actually walk all the way here from his own room?

Lin Zhiyu was momentarily at a loss, cluttered information flashing through his brain. You cannot forcibly wake a sleepwalker, or they might suffer an extreme shock. He forced himself to stay calm, but a wild thought kept surfacing: What if it is not sleepwalking?

His fingers froze in mid-air. He did not dare touch him, yet he could not truly pull away. He could only keep his eyes locked on Mu Sui’s face, desperately suppressing the rising unease. The other man maintained his rigid posture, and his gaze seemed to fall back onto Lin Zhiyu.

Lin Zhiyu propped himself up on the bed and looked up, meeting the man’s eyes. He wondered if the Mu Sui in this dream could see his reflection, and he found the idea strangely novel. Does he know he sleepwalks? Lin Zhiyu wondered. Or rather, does he know he can stand up in his dreams?

In the next second, Mu Sui suddenly took a step forward.

“Hey!” Startled, Lin Zhiyu quickly sat up and grabbed Mu Sui’s arm. “Do not just wander around. What if you fall?”

Mu Sui acted as if he had heard nothing. He reached back and gripped Lin Zhiyu’s wrist, continuing forward by another step until he sat down on the bed. Lin Zhiyu was stunned.

The pressure on his wrist bone was neither too heavy nor too light. Mu Sui’s eyes remained hollow, his consciousness still trapped within a dream, but the warm touch of his fingers was real enough to make his heart skip. The pads of his fingers, slightly calloused, brushed over Lin Zhiyu’s ulna in an almost nonchalant manner, slowly stroking the smooth skin. His thumb traced a hidden path along the delicate inner wrist, finally pausing where the pulse fluttered, as if searching for something.

Lin Zhiyu’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. Every place touched felt as if it were being scorched by a wildfire. He instinctively tried to pull his hand back, only to be firmly pressed down onto Mu Sui’s thigh. The contact between the callouses and his delicate skin sent a jolt of numbness through him. Lin Zhiyu felt as though he had become a fish falling into a mountain stream. The stream was unhurried, winding around mountains and invading valleys, flowing over every inch of his scales. The invisible current sent a spark through his nerve endings, making his entire body go as taut as a bowstring.

He wanted to flee, but the stream turned into invisible shackles, binding him in a long-drawn-out siege. No matter how he struggled, he could not escape this vexing whirlpool.

“Mine,” Mu Sui’s lips moved slightly. The voice was so low it was almost inaudible, yet it reached Lin Zhiyu’s ears clearly.

What did that mean? He did not understand the meaning behind the words. He only knew that the man’s voice carried a strange, mournful emotion, like a wanderer suddenly returning home, overwhelmed by an irrepressible longing, or like the joy of reclaiming a cherished treasure.

“Mine, mine. My gift.”

Mu Sui’s lowered eyelashes cast faint shadows under the warm light. His dark gaze seemed to pierce through time and space, as well as through all of Lin Zhiyu’s rational defenses. The bedside light cast a soft hue over his face, as if peeling away his daytime shell of cold detachment and revealing a startling vulnerability and bewilderment. Yet, there was also a trace of inexplicable aggression and possessiveness.

Lin Zhiyu held his breath. He wanted to look away but found himself unconsciously following the man’s movements. His wrist was held in a death grip, but it did not hurt. Only a strange, burning heat continued to spread from the point of contact, as if soaking into his skin. The man’s scent surrounded him closely, the faint notes of spring snow and white tea winding through the air. Lin Zhiyu could even hear the man’s slightly uneven breathing in his sleep.

Then, Mu Sui slowly leaned down, his movements gentle. Lin Zhiyu felt the slight chill of the man’s nose brush against the soft flesh of his inner wrist. Then, cold lips pressed against his palm, like a night breeze carrying a fine drizzle.

“You cannot go. You cannot leave.”

Immediately following that, a name so soft it was nearly inaudible escaped his lips, carrying an endless sense of tenderness and longing. A drop of scalding rain fell into the lake of Lin Zhiyu’s heart, instantly triggering ripples. Lin Zhiyu’s breathing stalled as he stared blankly at the face inches away.

Mu Sui’s face was undeniably handsome, like jade meticulously carved by a master. The cold lines of the daytime now revealed a softness that could not be ignored. His lowered eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings, veiling those bottomless eyes. His face was expressionless, yet it carried a confusion that did not belong to a waking state, as if he were recounting a dream that could not be understood.

Lin Zhiyu felt his throat and his breath were both stuck; he could not utter a word. His cheeks burned, and even the tips of his ears were stained a faint red.

“You,” he began, but before he could organize his words, Mu Sui’s hand suddenly let go.

The wrist that had lost its support fell onto the bed. In the next moment, Mu Sui’s face enlarged infinitely before him. Lin Zhiyu felt a weight on his shoulders, and the next thing he knew, he was pulled into Mu Sui’s embrace. His body fell back uncontrollably. He scrambled to prop himself up on the bed to avoid falling into the messy quilts.

“I caught you,” Mu Sui murmured, his tone carrying a layer of eerie amusement.

Lin Zhiyu felt as though he were nailed to the bed by those words, unable to even move. He thought dizzily: How can he be so clingy?

When he was awake, he was restrained and distant, with ice always hidden in his eyes as if he wanted to keep everyone thousands of miles away. But now, whether it was the helpless furrow of his brow or the strength in his arms around Lin Zhiyu’s waist, it all felt incredibly real—so real that it left Lin Zhiyu at a loss. It turned out that the invincible, sinister villain from the original novel once possessed such unspeakable weakness.

Who are you thinking of? What is it that you cannot let go of even in your dreams?

His heart beat so fast it felt like it might escape his mortal shell. Lin Zhiyu tried to raise his hand to push him away, but the moment he touched him, his shoulders were gripped even more tightly.

“No running. You are mine,” Mu Sui’s voice was muffled, yet his obsession was excessive. Every word sounded as if it had been ground between his teeth several times. The hands on Lin Zhiyu’s shoulders tightened further, even giving him the illusion that he was about to be torn apart and crushed.

“I am not running. I am right here,” Lin Zhiyu could only respond softly. His tone was cautious, fearing that a single wrong move would wake the man up completely.

Under his soothing, Mu Sui finally seemed to relax. The strength in his hands gradually faded, but his forehead remained buried in the crook of Lin Zhiyu’s neck. His long, steady breaths surrounded Lin Zhiyu like tangled vines, imprisoning him so he could not escape.

Lin Zhiyu glanced sideways at the clock on the bedside table; the hour hand pointed exactly to two. He calmed his breathing and heartbeat, attempting to push Mu Sui’s hands away again. He tried several times without success. Finally, driven by exhaustion, he could only collapse onto the bed.

As he lay down, Mu Sui, who was leaning half his weight on him, had no choice but to fall with him. Mu Sui’s breath fanned against the side of his neck, damp and warm. Lin Zhiyu stiffly nudged him with his elbow, but Mu Sui’s body did not move. However, the hand pressed beneath him seemed to have a mind of its own, sliding down his shoulder and finally pressing firmly against his waist with irresistible force.

This posture was so intimate that Lin Zhiyu was utterly flustered, his mind a complete mess. After a long silence, he finally let out a sigh and gave up the struggle. He only hoped that when Mu Sui woke up tomorrow morning, he would not make things too difficult for him.

He adjusted his position, trying to lie as comfortably as possible while avoiding unnecessary contact with Mu Sui. His fingers unconsciously plucked at the corner of the quilt as he stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind a tempest. But the storm was eventually washed away by fatigue. Lin Zhiyu’s consciousness blurred and scattered. He was like a small boat drifting in a vast, warm current, being carried deep into the night.

The scalding current lapped at his boat, waves splashing onto the deck and gradually rising, submerging everything inch by inch until they reached his mouth and nose. He felt like he could not breathe. Right at the edge of suffocation, he suddenly felt Mu Sui’s steady breathing against his neck. The warm air was like a silent lullaby, whispering in his ear.

Lin Zhiyu could not help but murmur in a low voice, “Just what are you dreaming about?”