Becoming the Cannon Fodder Wife of Crazy and Powerful Official - Chapter 12

Bai Lan’er had never seen such terrifying eyes.

Shen Qingqi’s gaze was dark with menace, his presence oppressive even as he sat casually. She stumbled backward, abandoning her box in her panic.

She wanted to run.

“You think you can just storm in here and leave? Dream on!” Xin Yueying blocked her path, shovel raised like a weapon. “Who are you? How do you know so much about the Meng family—and us?”

“I… I…”

“You even know whether my husband ‘favors’ me or not? Were you eavesdropping at night? Spit it out—are you plotting something? Let me tell you, Meng Ruxin might be a fool, but I, Xin Yueying, am no pushover. You’re not leaving until you explain yourself!”

She deliberately steered the accusations toward assassination—anything to make Bai Lan’er crack.

Her voice was sharp, her eyes blazing. Bai Lan’er retreated further, only to realize too late that behind her lurked Shen Qingqi, silent as a wolf, while Xin Yueying advanced like a tiger.

Trembling, Bai Lan’er spat weakly, “I just know! You bully! You tormented Ruxin! You’re vile! I hope you die horribly!”

“Still running your mouth?” Xin Yueying shoved her hard. Bai Lan’er, light as a dried twig, stumbled into the startled donkey. The animal reared—WHAM!—its hooves struck Bai Lan’er square in the head.

For a surreal moment, Xin Yueying watched Bai Lan’er fly.

Literally fly.

She crashed into the dirt wall, tumbled down, and landed skull-first on the chopping block.

THUD.

Silence.

Xin Yueying stood frozen.

From inside, Shen Qingqi called, “What happened?”

“She… uh…” She swallowed. “The donkey kicked her in the head.”

Shen Qingqi: “…”

All her earlier bravado vanished. Clutching the shovel like a lifeline, Xin Yueying scurried to him, wide-eyed. “She’s not moving! What do we do?!”

Check her pulse, he said calmly.

She couldn’t. She just crouched there, trembling, shovel rattling in her grip.

Shen Qingqi, oddly unbothered, even comforted her: “If she’s dead, she’s dead. She knew too much anyway—one less problem for our family.”

Our family. The words lingered.

Xin Yueying’s attention instantly snapped to those two words.

Our family.

If she remembered correctly, this was the first time Shen Qingqi had ever referred to them that way.

Suddenly, her fear melted away, replaced by an unexpected warmth.

“Who’s that lying there?” Huo Qi’s voice cut in as he returned with a pheasant in hand, frowning at the scene.

Xin Yueying turned, holding her breath.

Huo Qi, “Ah! Dead?! How did this woman die?!”

Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the ground.

Shen Qingqi glanced at her, then at the floor. His lips parted as if to say something, but in the end, he stayed silent.

Huo Qi rushed inside: “Second Master! There’s a dead woman outside!”

“Mm. Bury her, then.”

Xin Yueying scrambled to her feet, eager to avoid the task.,”I’ve got lard rendering on the stove—”

Huo Qi flushed red with frustration, “Do you not understand priorities?! A person is dead! If someone investigates, we’re finished!”

“Give me the shovel. I’ll watch the stove.” Shen Qingqi held out his hand. Xin Yueying obediently placed the shovel in his palm.

With Huo Qi and Xin Yueying supporting him on either side, they helped Shen Qingqi cross the threshold.

This might have been his first time leaving the courtyard—in Xin Yueying’s memory, he had never once sat under the open sky.

Perhaps Shen Qingqi realized it too.

As sunlight spilled over him, he instinctively lifted his face to the heavens. The vast blue expanse stretched above, clouds drifting lazily like wandering dogs. For a fleeting moment, even the air seemed clearer, purer.

Huo Qi, “Second Master, I’ll push you to the kitchen.”

Xin Yueying, “The kitchen has no threshold. He can move by himself.”

Shen Qingqi balanced the shovel across his lap, his knuckles flexing as he gripped the wheelchair’s rim. With a deft pull, the chair rolled forward.

Then backward.

And then—he smiled.

His pale face, illuminated by the sunlight, appeared almost translucent. A childlike smile flickered at the corners of his eyes and lips as he lifted his gaze to meet Xin Yueying’s.

Their eyes locked. He gave her a slight nod.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She pressed her lips together, suddenly awkward, “Maybe… stop playing around? The lard’s going to burn. We can’t waste it.”

She knew she was ruining the moment, but food was precious.

“Right.” Shen Qingqi remembered the task at hand and wheeled himself toward the kitchen.

This seemed to be his first time cooking. “What should I do?”

“Skim the foam off the top, then keep stirring so it doesn’t stick. When the steam stops rising, you can ladle the oil out.” She peered into the pot and nodded, “Cover the fire vent—just let it simmer on low heat. It’s almost done.”

“Got it.” He glanced at the table, pointing to an empty jar, “Use this for the lard?”

“Two jars. The smaller one is for Auntie Song.” She gestured to a slightly larger one. “The big one’s for us.”

Realizing how uncharitable that sounded, she chuckled sheepishly.

Shen Qingqi clumsily stirred the pot, “You and Auntie Song get along?”

“Well enough. At least she doesn’t put on airs.”

Amused, he arched a brow. “Who does put on airs, then?”

“SECOND MASTER! STOP CHATTING! THERE’S STILL A CORPSE OUT HERE!!!!”

Huo Qi, the sole casualty of this entire ordeal, stood stiffly beside Bai Lan’er’s body, his patience thoroughly exhausted.

And thus, in this world, perhaps only Huo Qi suffered.