Vicious Cannon Fodder? No, He’s a Darling Wife! - Chapter 14

During the half-month he’d been away from the base on assignment, Qu Zhilan had found himself drifting off. It often took his teammates several tries to get his attention.

At first, they assumed he was grieving because they hadn’t recovered the Chairman’s body. But soon, they noticed he spent an inordinate amount of time staring at his communicator. Sometimes, when a message came through, his dark eyes would scan the words repeatedly, and a faint, rare trace of a smile would even grace his cold, handsome face.

The team was baffled. Something is up.

Being the direct types, they didn’t beat around the bush. “Why are you smiling at your screen like that? Is there a goddess hidden in there or something?”

“No. You saw wrong,” Qu Zhilan replied, his face returning to its usual expressionless mask as he pocketed the device.

A short-haired female teammate let out a sharp, mocking whistle. “Then what were you looking at? We’re dying to know.”

Before Qu Zhilan could snap back, another teammate piped up, “Spring is here, even the stray cats are restless. Can’t a guy have someone he likes?”

The group roared with laughter. One man moved to clap Qu Zhilan on the shoulder, but seeing his dark expression, he wisely diverted the blow at the last second, slamming his hand against the sand-covered armor of the transport truck with a loud thud.

“Our boy’s got a sweetheart!”

…

A sweetheart?

Was it that fragile “sister-in-law” currently staying at Qin Zhao’s place, waiting for him to bring back food?

The question circled endlessly in his mind as he walked through the dark city streets, his pace lighter than usual. Was this… simple care? Or something more selfish?

Qu Zhilan’s hand curled slightly at his side.

Technically, the day of the rescue hadn’t been the first time he’d seen Yuan Su. But the feeling in his gut was different now. Before, Yuan Su had been… different. Two-faced, full of lies, his calculations practically written on his face. He was the type to demand everything and offer nothing.

Qu Zhilan knew exactly what kind of person Yuan Su was—someone who acted the part of the obedient darling in public only to reveal a social-climbing, mercenary nature in private.

So, the reason Yuan Su acted like a delicate flower in need of protection every time they met, tilting that beautiful head up for affection, was simply because he’d lost his previous support. He was just looking for a new, sturdy tree to cling to, to provide him shade and nutrients.

And yet…

I seem to be a complete sucker for it.

His heart felt full, like a balloon slowly inflating with a sweet, warm air. Reaching the building, Qu Zhilan looked up toward the seventh floor. The kitchen window was lit with a faint, flickering glow.

It didn’t look like an electric light. The hue was strange a cold, ghostly blue.

That specific color combined with the setting of a kitchen immediately brought Qin Zhao to mind.

In the apocalypse, real food was a luxury. The Hunting Guild usually survived on dry rations during missions. Most mutated animals were inedible, and even when they found something safe, the team’s cooking skills were abysmal.

Qin Zhao, however, had been a master in the kitchen. Once the team realized this, they’d started bringing seasonings and cookware on every trip. A good meal from Qin Zhao made everyone fight harder. He never complained; he was always so gentle and considerate, acting like a big brother to Qu Zhilan when he’d first joined the Guild.

Thinking of this, Qu Zhilan’s mood shifted. The warmth was replaced by a heavy sense of betrayal, shame… and a hidden, dark thrill.

As he reached the door, he caught the scent of home-cooked food—rich, savory, and incredibly tempting. He knocked softly. Within moments, he heard movement inside.

The lock clicked! clack! and the door swung open. He expected to see those soft, amber eyes he’d been dreaming of. But when he saw who—or what—was standing there, he froze.

It was a single, terrifyingly familiar, deep blue eye.

His stomach felt like it was burning. Yuan Su’s sleep had been fitful, yet he felt as though he were being cradled in a hammock of soft seaweed, swaying with the rhythmic safety of a cradle. He’d actually managed to drift off deeply.

Suddenly, a loud thump erupted from the door!

Yuan Su bolted upright, his heart racing. Before his brain could even process the noise, he smelled something divine.

“Why does it smell so good?”

Muttering to himself, he kicked on his slippers and followed the scent to the door. As he opened it, his eyes widened at the feast laid out on the dining table.

The lights were off, but a single candle flickered on the table, making the oily surfaces of the dishes glisten. It was too dark to see exactly what they were, but the aroma was intoxicating.

He stepped closer, the scent washing over him like a wave.

Hallelujah.

It took him a moment of dazed staring to realize the front door was still standing open, and Qu Zhilan was standing right there.

Yuan Su hurried over to shut the door properly. “Did you cook all this?”

His amber eyes were practically glued to the food. He shuffled back to the table, his slippers clicking against the floor.

“You’re…” Yuan Su swallowed hard, his hunger reaching a fever pitch. “You’re way too domestic I mean, talented! How are you this good with your hands?”

He habitually licked his lips, completely unaware of how the motion looked to anyone else as innocent and distracting as a rabbit cleaning its face.

Yuan Su pulled out a chair and flopped down, not forgetting to be polite. “You’re the guest, I shouldn’t have let you do the work.”

His pale fingers reached for the chopsticks. As he got a better look at the dishes, his voice turned jubilant. “Is that… seafood?!”

Since arriving in this hellish world, he hadn’t touched a single aquatic animal. He didn’t mind fish, but he hated dealing with bones. Shellfish, however, was his absolute favorite.

He remembered 341 telling him that seafood was astronomically expensive in the base. Base 04 was landlocked and central; transportation was a nightmare. Being able to eat a common carp was considered a flex; this was on another level.

He was about to dig in when he noticed his rice bowl was empty. Without looking up, he asked in a soft, subconscious pout, “Is there any rice?”

He was in full “pampered mode,” but before he could finish the thought, a sharp crack sounded as his chopsticks were pinned to the table by a heavy hand.

“Don’t eat it!” Qu Zhilan’s voice was sharp. A piece of fragrant, tender squid tentacle went flying off the plate.

Yuan Su sat there, mouth slightly open, confused. “Huh?”

The room fell silent, save for Qu Zhilan’s heavy, ragged breathing.

Yuan Su swallowed his saliva, looking stunned. Isn’t wasting food a capital crime in the base?

He remembered the cafeteria monitors who checked that every plate had less than 10% waste. If he reported Qu Zhilan right now, the guy could probably land a few years in prison!

“What are you do.”

“Is there something strange in this house?” Qu Zhilan interrupted, his voice cold and raspy.

The man’s expression was terrifyingly grim, his eyes devoid of any warmth. Shaken by the sudden shift, Yuan Su stammered, “No… I was just sleeping.”

And he had been sleeping quite comfortably, too.

Qu Zhilan looked at the youth’s confused face. There were faint pillow creases on his pale cheek and sleep in his eyes; his soft hair was a mess. He clearly wasn’t lying.

He looked so genuinely bewildered that Qu Zhilan found it impossible to stay angry at him.

Then what the hell opened the door for me?

Qin Zhao’s body had been cremated. Could he have come back from the dead?

Qu Zhilan let out a cold, scoffing laugh. He stood up, walked to the table, and began scraping every single plate of delicious food into the trash can. Yuan Su went from confusion to shock, then to pure fury.

He scrambled to his feet to stop him, but Qu Zhilan pinned him back into his chair with one hand. Great, so strength is everything now?

“Do you… have some kind of brain injury?” Yuan Su watched the last plate go into the bin, his voice flat with despair. “Is this a mid-mission breakdown?”

Watching the thick, blood-like sauce drip slowly into the trash, Qu Zhilan spared him a cold glance. Sensing the danger, Yuan Su wisely chose to shut up and sulk.

Qu Zhilan slammed a takeout box onto the table. “Eat this.”

Yuan Su looked at the humble box with a discerning eye, his lip curling in a pout, but he eventually picked up his chopsticks. “Fine. Thanks.”

He was starving. Despite his resentment, he began shoveling the food into his mouth at lightning speed.

As he chewed, Yuan Su started to put the pieces together. Qu Zhilan was usually the “stoic, cool guy” type; he wouldn’t act this erratically for no reason. This food obviously hadn’t been made by Qu Zhilan, and Yuan Su certainly hadn’t made it. That meant…

Yuan Su swallowed hard, his face turning pale. Noticing him choking, Qu Zhilan unscrewed a bottle of water he’d prepared and pushed it toward him.

341 whistled in his mind: [The “cold outside, warm inside” type. What a gentleman.]

Yuan Su took a few gulps of water and caught his breath. “Thanks.”

Qu Zhilan, who had been scanning the dark corners of the apartment, finally spoke. “That food wasn’t normal. I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

Yuan Su nodded. “I know. I figured it out.”

Realizing he’d just insulted the man, Yuan Su looked up, his face a picture of sincerity. “Thank you for stopping me. Honestly, when I’m hungry, I say the nastiest things…”

Qu Zhilan looked at him. In the candlelight, the youth’s skin looked as pure as porcelain, his eyes sparkling with a soft, harmless innocence.

Yuan Su had a good guess as to who made the food it had to be the elusive Qin Zhao.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a low, unnervingly familiar voice whispered right into his ear.

“Why did he throw away the food I made for you?”

The voice was ice-cold, brushing against his cheek with an intimate, lingering cadence.

“My poor wife was almost fainting from hunger…”

Yuan Su jumped so violently he practically stood up, his legs knocking the chair back with a loud clatter. Qu Zhilan reacted instantly, his eyes snapping toward him.

Faced with Qu Zhilan’s probing gaze, Yuan Su froze. Before he could even begin to invent an excuse, a knock came from the front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Um… is anyone home?”

Both men turned toward the door, falling instantly silent.

Standing outside was Qin Zhao’s neighbor but behind him, the hallway was packed with fully armed soldiers.

Tense, ready, and waiting for the order to strike.

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