Who Wants to Be the Affectionate Cannon Fodder?! [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 47

The two of them returned to work together the next day. The schedule for the day was packed, but primarily consisted of dialogue-heavy scenes.

Ning Jinghe was even shuttling between Group A and Group B. After finishing the court politics segments of Xiao Jingke in Group B in the afternoon, he had to head to Group A in the evening to film the hidden plotline between the brothers.

As twilight deepened, the clamor from the streets outside gradually faded. The entire Marquis’s Manor fell into a profound silence. Lanterns on the corridors swayed with the wind, their leaping flames casting shadows like spectral figures.

The wooden window swung open and shut in the breeze. Fortunately, there was no ear-piercing creak, but even the faint sound was enough to make the perceptive Xiao Jingke feel irritable and restless.

He was slumped over the tea table in the bedroom, his muscles trembling uncontrollably. His cold, handsome eyes were tightly shut, the muscles in his face twitching. His thin, pale lips were bitten until they bled, the crimson fluid dripping from the corner of his mouth onto the floor.

Suddenly, with a heavy “thud,” Ning Jinghe tumbled from the couch. His hair crown fell off, and his long hair spilled over his shoulders. Even the usually refined and self-possessed Marquis of Anding had such moments of disarray.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to make a sound. His black robes were clawed into messy folds, and his loosened collar revealed a large portion of his well-defined chest.

The door was pushed open. Like a beast whose territory had been invaded, Ning Jinghe grabbed a fallen cup and hurled it toward the door, shouting, “Get out!”

The cup shattered. The newcomer jumped to the side but did not retreat; instead, he rushed toward Ning Jinghe.

“Brother, it is me.”

Yu Lin ran to Ning Jinghe’s side and knelt. He cautiously reached out to touch Ning’s arm, but the manic Ning Jinghe shoved him away, squeezing out a sentence through gritted teeth: “Get the hell out!”

Yu Lin tumbled to the ground, his palm landing right in the blood Ning Jinghe had coughed up. He stared at it quietly for a moment—contrary to his usual self—before pouncing forward to embrace Ning Jinghe, cradling him against his shoulder.

“It is okay, Brother. It is Jingyan. It is okay.” Yu Lin gently patted Ning Jinghe’s arm, wishing he could bear the pain in his stead.

Ning Jinghe was already dazed with agony. Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and all color had drained from his face; only his heavy, ragged breathing proved he was still alive.

Yu Lin’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Looking at Ning Jinghe’s mangled lips, he offered his own arm to Ning’s mouth. “Stop biting yourself. I am thick-skinned; bite me instead, Brother.”

Ning Jinghe continued to shiver and struggle aimlessly. Yu Lin gently pried his lips open, inducing him with a low, hushed voice: “Brother, if it hurts, bite me. I am not afraid of pain.”

Ning Jinghe opened his bloodshot eyes, grabbed Yu Lin’s hand, and bit down hard.

“Cut!” Li Rui suddenly stood up from his seat, pointing at Ning Jinghe, who looked up in confusion. “What are you doing? Are you sucking his skin? Can you show some momentum, like a dog gnawing on a bone!”

Ning Jinghe: “…” What kind of ridiculous description is that?

Yu Lin rubbed the makeup stains on his hand and teased, “Show some momentum, Brother Ning.”

Ning Jinghe glared at him, wondering who he was holding back for with that fake bite.

“I really am not afraid of pain,” Yu Lin said. “Or do you find me distasteful?”

Ning Jinghe was nearly made to laugh by their back-and-forth remarks. He gave a flat “I get it” and stood up to let the makeup artist fix his look.

Xiao Jingke’s father was once the Marquis of Anding who fought for the Great Wan, achieving countless military honors. However, he could not withstand the suspicion of the Emperor sitting in the bright halls of the capital. Fifteen years ago, he was struck by a “stray” arrow fired by his own people on the battlefield and died from his injuries. Their mother fell gravely ill from the grief and passed away soon after.

At thirteen, Xiao Jingke was brought into the palace with his eight-year-old brother by a royal decree. To protect Xiao Jingyan, despite knowing the pastries sent by the eunuchs were poisoned, Xiao Jingke smiled and ate them all.

The poison did not kill him, but it remained dormant in his body forever. It flared up once every three months, bringing a pain worse than death. For over a decade, Xiao Jingke suppressed it with prescriptions found by his father’s old subordinates, but as he grew older, the medicine became less effective.

The clapperboard snapped again, and Ning Jinghe quickly entered the state.

The hurried Yu Lin carried a scent of elegant, calm sandalwood. It was unclear where the scent came from—perhaps the hotel’s new body wash—but it instantly made one feel at peace.

Warm body heat seeped through the complex layers of the historical costume onto Ning Jinghe’s back. He breathed rapidly and painfully, but his mind seemed to escape into a gentle haven.

“Brother, do not be afraid…” Yu Lin’s voice sounded in his ear, his palm patting his shoulder gently, just as Xiao Jingke used to comfort his younger brother years ago.

Yu Lin’s face was pressed against the side of his neck; Ning’s earlobe was scalded by the warmth of his cheek. After a while, as if unable to bear seeing his brother suffer, Yu Lin gave a choked sob. Ning Jinghe heard him say through gritted teeth, “Xiao Yuanqi, my Marquis of Anding Manor…”

Xiao Yuanqi was the personal name of the Wende Emperor. Calling the Emperor by his name was a grave taboo. Even if only the brothers were present, there was no guarantee that walls didn’t have ears.

Ning Jinghe regained a moment of clarity. He grabbed Yu Lin’s arm and bit down, cutting off the rest of his words.

“Ah…” Yu Lin let out a muffled moan. That soft, nasal tone brushed past Ning’s ear like a cat’s claw scratching at his heart, sending ripples through his usually calm mind.

Yu Lin’s chin rested on his shoulder. He watched as Ning Jinghe’s canines sank into his pale flesh. The fake blood capsule inside the mouth was bitten open, and bright red blood flowed down his forearm—a scene that was both ambiguous and evocative.

A single tear fell from the corner of Yu Lin’s eye, disappearing into Ning Jinghe’s collar.

“Brother, let us go. Let us leave Jinling City and go back to the Southern Border. The world is wide there, the grass is everywhere, and there are no more restraints.”

Xiao Jingyan quietly held his brother. The two seemed to have returned to that winter fifteen years ago when their world changed. That winter was exceptionally cold, with snowflakes as large as goose feathers falling through a howling, bitter wind.

The road to the capital was long and treacherous. In the rickety, old carriage, Xiao Jingyan had snuggled in Xiao Jingke’s arms, his face stained with dried tears, sobbing intermittently. At that time, he did not yet know what kind of fate awaited him.

He only knew that from then on, in this vast world, they were each other’s only reliance.

“…It is too late, A-Yan,” Ning Jinghe said in a strained voice. His trembling fingers rose slowly, tracing several characters stroke by stroke on Yu Lin’s arm.

Yu Lin felt a bit ticklish from the movement but held back with effort, staring in disbelief at Ning Jinghe’s actions.

As the final stroke fell, Ning Jinghe let go. He leaned against the couch, exhausted. His clothes were in disarray, his forehead and neck drenched in cold sweat, and his skin was devoid of any color.

“…There is no turning back,” Ning Jinghe let out a soft laugh, his eyes swirling with a sinister, manic light. “I will surely make him…”

Yu Lin covered his mouth and forced a pained smile: “In that case, I shall risk my life to help my brother achieve his wish.”

With Li Rui’s “Pass!”, Ning Jinghe slowly struggled out of Xiao Jingke’s emotions. Just as he was about to help the person beside him, he saw Yu Lin stand up as if nothing had happened, straighten his rumpled clothes, and trot away happily.

The speed at which he left the character was even faster than Ning’s, which was quite annoying.

Zhou Yao stepped forward with a wet wipe to clean the blood from Yu Lin’s hand. The latter nonchalantly took a sip of the milk tea on the table, his eyes drifting toward Ning Jinghe, blinking twice in confusion.

Why is he still looking at me?

Sensing the silent question, Ning Jinghe sighed and walked toward him.

A ring of tooth marks appeared on the wiped arm, quickly turning red. Even though Ning Jinghe had held back, the marks were still very obvious on Yu Lin’s smooth skin.

Zhou Yao let out a startled gasp. “Does it hurt, Xingzhuo?”

Yu Lin bit his straw and shook his head.

“Sorry.” Ning Jinghe took Yu Lin’s forearm from Zhou Yao. The youth was like a doll, letting them do as they pleased. Ning Jinghe’s fingertips brushed over the marks lightly, but as if startled by his own slightly offensive gesture, he unnaturally curled his hand back.

“It looked scary even from the side. Luckily the skin didn’t break, otherwise, I wouldn’t know if a human bite needs a tetanus shot,” Zhou Yao muttered tactlessly.

Yu Lin lifted his eyelids to look at Ning Jinghe. Imitating what Lin He had done to him countless times in the previous world, he raised his hand and rubbed Ning’s head reassuringly. He said, “That take definitely had momentum. Brother, did you really think I was a bone?”

Ning Jinghe’s brain went blank for a second. He belatedly realized what Yu Lin had just done to him, but just as he was about to speak, Yu Lin had already scurried off to find Li Rui with his script.

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose helplessly, feeling that Yu Lin was truly like a stray cat—sometimes close, sometimes distant, and utterly unpredictable.

Not far away, Jiang Shiyan watched everything with a calm but complex gaze.

The Song of the Broken Array had invited him to produce the drama’s OST. Jiang Shiyan’s professional skills were beyond question; many hit dramas in recent years featured his work.

After seeing Shen Xingzhuo yesterday, his mood had been fluctuating. Coincidentally, having nothing to do today, he sent a message to visit the set, ostensibly to find inspiration for his music.

He hadn’t expected to see such an eyesore.

Neither Ning Jinghe nor Shen Xingzhuo were the types to become familiar with others quickly. Yet filming had only been going on for a week, and they were already this intimate? Even back in high school, Jiang Shiyan had to put in significant effort just to get Ning Jinghe to talk to him.

And… he squeezed his phone, remembering the photo he saw on the trending topics yesterday.

After Shen Xingzhuo left the golf course, he went to find Ning Jinghe, and Ning’s broken appointment was also because of him. When Lin Nanzhi and the others heard the news, the looks they gave him were filled with annoying scrutiny and sympathy.

“Is this your revenge, Shen Xingzhuo?” Jiang Shiyan muttered to himself. “Because you know the truth, you think this can make me…”

But Jiang Shiyan couldn’t help but doubt. In less than half a day, if Shen Xingzhuo really had a way to break through Ning Jinghe’s defenses that quickly, his reputation in the industry wouldn’t have remained so notorious for all these years.

Jiang Shiyan let out a mocking laugh, but a stranger feeling arose in his heart. It wasn’t directed at Shen Xingzhuo, but rather at Ning Jinghe.

When he looked over coldly again, he saw Yu Lin under the camera tent suddenly jump up from beside Li Rui with his script. The irritable director rubbed his hair in frustration, then had a sudden flash of inspiration and pushed Yu Lin toward Ning Jinghe.

“What is it?” Ning Jinghe asked.

Li Rui waved his hand: “I can’t teach him anymore. Take him back tonight and give him some extra tutoring.”