Vicious Cannon Fodder? No, He’s a Darling Wife! - Chapter 13

The patrol presence outside the base had more than doubled today.

Qu Zhilan withdrew his gaze from the perimeter walls. Standing among the returning troops, he looked travel-worn, his entire aura radiating a bone-chilling coldness.

He had originally thought that placing Yuan Su in the “Granary” would keep him safe; after all, it was one of the base’s most vital locations, equipped with top-tier scanners and defense measures. Who could have guessed that he’d receive a frantic transmission from Gao He yesterday afternoon Yuan Su was in trouble.

Worse, he had been taken by Chu Wenhe. The military had long sought to absorb or suppress the Guild, and Yuan Su just happened to hold the key to the armory. With Yuan Su falling into Chu Wenhe’s hands alone, there was no telling what might happen.

Most troubling of all was the look in Chu Wenhe’s eyes whenever he looked at Yuan Su a look of naked desire that Qu Zhilan recognized all too well.

Shadows pooled in Qu Zhilan’s dark eyes, his sharp features etched with displeasure and a complex, gnawing irritation he couldn’t quite name. A heavy sense of suffocating anxiety was lodged in his chest.

Logically, he should have used this opportunity to let the chips fall where they may. He could let Chu Wenhe squeeze the location of the key out of Yuan Su, then kill the boy. He could frame the military for the murder and eliminate the last of the former Chairman’s relatives in one stroke, securing his absolute control over the Guild. He was no longer a naive youth; he knew the weight of real power.

Yet, now that this golden opportunity sat right in front of him, he had abandoned his team and ridden through the night, pushing himself to the limit just to save Yuan Su.

“Possessed… I must be possessed,” Qu Zhilan cursed under his breath, his brow furrowed in a dark scowl.

What frustrated him even more was that Yuan Su had gone silent. The communicator that usually buzzed daily with greetings was as still as a grave. He scrolled up through their chat history; the last message was from the day before:

“How much longer until you’re back? It feels like you’ve been gone forever.” “.” “Did you not get my message?” “Why don’t you ever reply to me…?” “The signal outside the base must be bad. Just stay safe. I’m just checking in to say I’m being good today and haven’t caused any trouble.”

As he re-read that last line, Qu Zhilan could almost picture the youth tilting that snowy, beautiful face up, his lashes trembling as he whispered in that shy, small voice.

Yuan Su was a man of many nervous habits he loved to purse his lips; he’d lick them when happy and bite them when anxious. Those rosy, tender lips were constantly being worried at, a habit that only made their color more tantalizing…

A ghost of a smile flickered on Qu Zhilan’s lips, but he masked it instantly as he passed through the identity verification and the disinfection tunnel at the base gates.

His eyes swept across the area casually, only to lock onto the massive screen at the base entrance.

The familiar, stunning face he had just been picturing with its pale skin, exquisite features, and clear, amber eyes—was staring back at him. If it weren’t for the giant bold word “WANTED” plastered next to it, one might have mistaken it for a high-fashion poster.

It was a wanted circular for Yuan Su.

It listed every one of his physical traits in detail. Qu Zhilan glanced at the scrolling ticker below: “Rebel Sympathizer,” “Variant Carrier,” and other chilling keywords.

It was then that Gao He, who had been waiting for some time, spotted him and rushed over. “I thought you said three days! How are you back so fast?”

Gao He had received word of his arrival, but before he could even speak, Qu Zhilan shoved a heavy rucksack into his arms. Gao He didn’t mind the weight, saying urgently, “Even though you’re fast, you’re still a step too late!”

The two ducked into a secluded alleyway. Gao He lowered his voice: “Yuan Su escaped. No one knows how, but he vanished right from under the cameras. To prevent him from fleeing the city, the military has tripled the patrols.”

“Explain,” Qu Zhilan commanded.

Gao He gave him the gist of what he knew. When he mentioned that a variant had infiltrated the Granary, Qu Zhilan’s expression turned grim.

“The whole situation is a mess. The Research Institute has locked down a lot of info, but I suspect it’s related to a new infection strain. Chu Wenhe has already called several emergency meetings with high-ranking officials from other bases.”

“One thing is certain: a variant appeared inside the base that wasn’t picked up by any scanners. Yuan Su is the only person who had contact with it, and now he’s gone. The Institute and the Military have coordinated their story—they’re labeling him a Rebel and have issued a base-wide bounty.”

In a place this large, there were always “Rebels”—people who believed the mutations were simply the next step in human evolution and actively spread infection. Public tolerance for such people was zero. With the wanted poster out, Yuan Su wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere in the base.

Qu Zhilan felt there was something fishy about the whole thing. Rather than listening to rumors, it would be easier to just catch Yuan Su and ask him directly.

Besides, the detention cells at the Institute were state-of-the-art—fortified and airtight. How could a physically weak youth like Yuan Su escape? Unless… someone was helping him from the shadows?

After parting ways with Gao He, Qu Zhilan returned to the Guild to handle some urgent matters. He finally opened his communicator and typed a short message:

[Where are you?]

“Where on earth did he go?!”

The Research Institute was in a state of total chaos. The staff members who had been involved in the initial screening at the Granary looked ashen, terrified that Yuan Su might be a carrier. They had been hit with too many shocks in too short a time; their mental states were fraying.

Mo Lian rubbed her temples wearily. She let out a long, ragged breath and tried to soothe them. “Nothing is certain yet. He might not be a variant.”

The moment the words left her mouth, a colleague’s face flushed red with anger. “Then explain how a living human being disappears from a completely sealed room?!”

The room fell silent.

Infected humans were different from animals; they retained some of their original intellect, but their cells underwent radical changes. Perhaps they could turn into a puddle of sludge and flow through a ventilation duct. It wasn’t just a wild theory it was a biological possibility that defied everything they had been taught for years.

Mo Lian remained silent, a bone-deep exhaustion washing over her. The most she could do now was manage the panic.

“There’s no use getting worked up. Fear is a waste of energy. Colonel Chu has reported this, and every base is treating it with the utmost gravity. Many researchers are coming here to help us study the sample, including Dr. Ji from Base 01. You all know his reputation; he was involved in related research long before the apocalypse. Please, stay rational.”

Mo Lian took a breath. When she mentioned “Dr. Ji,” the tension in the room visibly lessened.

The public thought the apocalypse was a freak natural disaster, but only a few knew the truth: the catastrophe was rooted in human greed. An accidental discovery of an extraterrestrial object… a terrifying, near-immortal vitality… a series of gruesome experiments… countless failed “scraps”… and the massive piles of disposed bodies…

Mo Lian closed her eyes, unsure if she was resting or praying.

[Everyone is just waiting for you to trip up so they can pounce,] 341 warned.

Realizing the gravity of his situation, Yuan Su finally sobered up. “Then it’s probably not safe for me to stay here, right?” He thought for a moment and pulled out his ID card. It likely had a tracking device.

Just as he was about to snap the card, his communicator buzzed.

[Where are you?]

It was Qu Zhilan! Yuan Su froze, then quickly began typing a reply.

“Should I tell him?”

[He can help you.]

“Will he want to?” Yuan Su frowned unconsciously, his lips pursing in indecision. His lips were vivid and plush; when he worried them like that, they looked like the glistening, crushed center of a piece of fruit—utterly delicious.

He was lost in his own world of worry, but to any outsider, the sight would have been a direct invitation.

[Obviously,] 341 replied.

Yuan Su wasn’t sure what was so “obvious,” but he didn’t hesitate for long. He dialed Qu Zhilan’s number directly.

The call was picked up in seconds. For a moment, there was only silence, save for the man’s faint breathing over the line.

Finally, Qu Zhilan spoke, his voice low and cool as ever. “Where are you?”

“I’m at… Qin Zhao’s apartment.”

The line went dead quiet for a long while. If the call timer hadn’t been ticking, Yuan Su would have thought Qu Zhilan had hung up on him.

“Are you back at the base? Can I see you?”

Yuan Su gripped the corner of his blanket. He took two seconds to build up the mood, sniffing softly. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with tears. “I… so much has happened lately. It’s all so messy, and I’m so scared…”

“Chu Wenhe found me again, and I was attacked by a monster… I haven’t eaten in two days, and I’m too afraid to go outside…”

The muffled, soft sound of his crying—interspersed with little hiccups was enough to make anyone imagine his snowy face drenched in tears. His lips were surely bright and red right now.

Qu Zhilan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. A wave of stifling heat surged from his throat down to his gut.

The weak, low sobbing continued. “I really didn’t know who else to call…”

The youth choked back a few more sobs, then said in a lost, tentative tone: “In this huge base, you’re the only person I really know. It… it feels like you’re the only one who can help me…”

Like a fledgling bird, he was chirping helplessly for someone to lean on.

“I understand.” Qu Zhilan closed his eyes, his voice impossibly raspy. “Stay there. Don’t move. I’ll come for you later tonight.”

Having confirmed that Qu Zhilan was coming, Yuan Su breathed a sigh of relief. He asked the system, “What about Qin Zhao?”

Shouldn’t the protagonist and the love interest be meeting up soon? 341 felt like the plot was drifting into strange territory, but it couldn’t quite put its finger on it, so it opted to stay silent.

Since Qin Zhao had used his powers to pull him out of that locked room, the creature hadn’t appeared again. Even the harassment in his dreams had stopped.

Yuan Su felt it was strange, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before his stomach interrupted him. “I’m hungry,” he groaned, flopping onto the rug.

[Qu Zhilan will bring food.]

“How long will that be?” Yuan Su rolled over.

[Probably around seven or eight tonight.]

Yuan Su frowned, clutching his stomach. He felt incredibly hungry so hungry he felt lightheaded and weak. He couldn’t wait until tonight. He decided to scavenge the apartment for a can or some hardtack.

With that goal in mind, he used the bed to pull himself up. But after a thorough search, he found nothing but seasonings. The fridge was empty; he had always used his card to eat at the cafeteria and never intended to cook for himself.

Staggering slightly, he went to pour a glass of water. As he moved, he accidentally knocked over a box of tissues. When he leaned down to pick them up, the deep blue pendant slid out of his collar.

He felt a sudden jolt of energy. Yuan Su froze, then sat back on his heels, taking the necklace off to examine it.

The blue was deep and magnificent, like a flickering azure flame. Looking closer today, he noticed the color seemed to be shifting and flowing like liquid.

It looked just like Qin Zhao’s eyes.

The thought made him shiver. Shaking his head, he downed a glass of water to fill his empty stomach and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

The afternoon sun spilled through the window, bathing the youth’s beautiful, pale face in a warm, jade-like glow. But soon, that flawless purity was tainted.

Long, slender black tentacles crept out from the shadows beneath Yuan Su, looking like splashes of ink coming to life. They stroked his brow with the tenderness of downy feathers, meticulous and gentle.

Slowly, the small tentacles climbed upward, merging into a curtain of darkness that enveloped and cocooned Yuan Su.

The slick, formless mass shifted, and soon, the darkness that had swallowed the youth’s slender frame solidified into the shape of a man—broad palms, a solid chest, and a face of inhuman beauty.

Those deep blue eyes were like a torn abyss, hiding a chaotic, maddening disorder.

“Wife.”

A low, husky, and lingering voice suddenly broke the silence of the room, laced with a hint of a smile.

The man stood, gently lifting Yuan Su and placing him on the bed, carefully tucking him in.

He was hungry.

Realizing this, the man looked a bit troubled. In his current state, it wasn’t convenient to go out.

The man raised his hand, his long, cold fingers tearing at the empty air. A rift appeared out of nowhere, and he reached in, dragging out a hideous-looking sea creature. The creature didn’t even dare to struggle; it lay flat on the cutting board, allowing itself to be butchered and baked into a delicacy.

It had been a long time since the man had cooked, but today he felt inspired. Soon, the table was covered in a feast of color and aroma.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

The man glanced toward the foyer and gave a light chuckle. “The guest is here.”

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