[Quick Transmigration] The Pretty Little Cannon Fodder Who Doesn’t Speak - Chapter 14

Xia Zhixu crashed into Song Qingchuan’s arms, clinging tightly to him as if terrified—or afraid the person before him might vanish. Song Qingchuan winced at the impact, watching Xia Zhixu mumble incoherently before sighing helplessly.

At least he was unharmed.

Song Qingchuan leaned in slightly to catch Xia Zhixu’s words. When he finally heard it clearly, he felt both amused and exasperated. 

‘Mushrooms? What mushrooms? Does he want to eat mushrooms now? What a foodie.’

Song Qingchuan reached out to loosen Xia Zhixu’s grip, but the moment his hand touched Xia Zhixu’s arm to pry it open, the boy tightened his hold even more fiercely.

A sharp pain shot through Song Qingchuan’s waist, forcing him to bend over, silently cursing under his breath. 

‘How can someone so small have such strength? Is he trying to kill me?’

Yet Xia Zhixu remained utterly oblivious, lifting his head with an expression that looked utterly aggrieved, as though he had been terribly bullied. 

His dark curls quivered slightly, and his wide eyes brimmed with tears, ready to spill at any second. His cheeks, flushed red from the alcohol, made him look even more pitiful.

A pang of guilt washed over Song Qingchuan as he raised his hands in surrender. 

“I won’t pull you anymore. I promise…”

Satisfied with this assurance, Xia Zhixu stopped struggling and buried his face in Song Qingchuan’s chest, rubbing against him like a contented cat.

Song Qingchuan’s breathing grew heavier at the contact. He sighed helplessly. 

“How about we go home first?”

At the word ‘home,’ Xia Zhixu suddenly lifted his head, his eyes sparkling brightly. For the first time, Song Qingchuan realised that the descriptions of eyes ‘lighting up’ in novels weren’t exaggerated—some people’s eyes truly did glow, dazzling him until his heartbeat went haywire.

Song Qingchuan had been careful to avoid Jiang Minghui’s group, but he still ran into them at the KTV entrance.

It wasn’t Jiang Minghui himself, but Song He, who had tagged along this time. Song He had been assigned to guard the entrance while the others continued searching inside the KTV.

Spotting drunk Xia Zhixu slung over Song Qingchuan’s back, Song He instantly recognised him. He immediately stepped forward, blocking Song Qingchuan’s path. 

“Who are you? Why are you carrying my classmate? Put him down right now, or I’ll call the police!”

Song Qingchuan lifted his gaze, his cold gaze locking onto Song He. He stiffened slightly—Song Qingchuan’s eyes were terrifying. Like a predator honed by years of hunting, fixated on its prey.

“I’m Xia Zhixu’s brother,” Song Qingchuan said coldly. 

“Tell Jiang Minghui this—Zhixu has made himself clear. If he’s a man, he’ll stop bothering him.”

Song He was stunned speechless.

He was just a college student. He’d never encountered someone like Song Qingchuan, radiating such raw aggression. He dared not confront him head-on. After Song Qingchuan left, he stumbled off to relay the message to Jiang Minghui.

The red-light district bustled at night, and hailing a cab was easy. Song Qingchuan flagged one down, intending to pry Xia Zhixu off his back and shove him inside. Xia Zhixu instantly grew wary, tightening his grip around his neck with such force that Song Qingchuan nearly passed out from the pressure.

After freeing his neck, Song Qingchuan silently vowed never, ever to let Xia Zhixu drink again.

Xia Zhixu stubbornly refused to ride in the taxi, so Song Qingchuan abandoned the idea and started walking back, still carrying him on his back.

The tipsy Xia Zhixu was in high spirits, humming a tune that was anything but harmonious.

Song Qingchuan lowered his gaze, a rare tenderness flickering in his eyes.

It was midnight by the time he carried Xia Zhixu back to their rented room in South City.

Song Qingchuan finally laid the now-quiet Xia Zhixu on the bed. He retrieved the kettle, filled it with water, placed it on the induction cooker, pressed the power button, and then headed into the bathroom.

Since the weather hadn’t turned completely cold yet, hot water was still available. This area had a centralised hot water supply, and if he didn’t shower early in winter, the hot water would run out by nine or ten o’clock.

Carrying the hot water out, Song Qingchuan wrung out the washcloth in the basin and wiped the dazed Xia Zhixu’s face.

Xia Zhixu swayed unsteadily. To steady him, Song Qingchuan gently pinched his chin, forcing his head back. Dazed and confused, Xia Zhixu gazed up at Song Qing.

The figure before him seemed to sway constantly. It took him a moment to focus clearly. The instant he recognised the person, Xia Zhixu broke into a smile, revealing tiny dimples. 

“Yanyan… kiss me.”

Xia Zhixu puckered his lips, adopting a look that said, ‘See? I’m being so good. Hurry and kiss me.’

Song Qingchuan’s fingertips trembled slightly as he gazed at Xia Zhixu with a complex expression. It was a feeling he’d never experienced before, as if his entire heart had caught fire.

It was an unfamiliar sensation. Ever since Xia Zhixu had broken up with him and then returned, his heart felt utterly beyond his control.

No one had called him Yanyan since that ridiculous father who raised him.

The dim, yellow light from the low-wattage bulb installed to save electricity cast a soft, dreamlike filter over Xia Zhixu.

Thump, thump, thump…

The sound of his heartbeat was deafening, as though it were squeezing the air from the room. Song Qingchuan couldn’t tell if it was his own heart pounding or Xia Zhixu’s. Even the hand gripping Xia Zhixu’s chin felt uncomfortably intimate in that moment.

Xia Zhixu waited a long time, but Song Qingchuan didn’t kiss him. Feeling a bit annoyed, he decided that if Song Qingchuan wouldn’t kiss him, he’d just go ahead and kiss him himself.

He wasn’t angry at all. He was being good.

The figure before him suddenly drew near. 

Soft, warm lips—tinged with the faint scent of alcohol—pressed against Song Qingchuan’s. His eyes snapped open.

The towering wall of rationality he’d painstakingly built crumbled in that instant.

‘Fine. Whatever. If he wanted it, it was his. Xia Zhixu had provoked him first. He’d given Xia Zhixu a chance. Xia Zhixu had come back on his own. So for the rest of his life… Xia Zhixu wouldn’t be leaving him.’

The kiss ended as quickly as it began.

Xia Zhixu grinned at Song Qingchuan.

Song Qingchuan’s gaze darkened dangerously.

“Is that what you call a kiss?”

Xia Zhixu blinked in confusion. 

“It… it doesn’t count?”

“Hmm… no, it doesn’t. I’ll teach you.” 

Song Qingchuan’s voice was low and hoarse, threaded with restraint.

A wave of masculine desire surged like a tide, and Xia Zhixu instinctively reached up to grip Song Qingchuan’s arm tightly.

Thump, thump, thump… 

The fierce rhythm of their hearts overlapped uncontrollably; neither knew whose it was anymore.

Song Qingchuan’s scent grew more intense. Xia Zhixu’s toes curled, and just as he realised what was happening, Song Qingchuan bit his lip, a warm pressing against the back of his neck.

Though night had fallen, the late-autumn air still carried a touch of stifling heat. The cicadas hidden among the leaves began their quiet song, and with the breeze, the lingering warmth of the season finally dispersed.

Coo, coo…

Two little birds in the nest stirred their wings, nestling close together to sleep.

When Song Qingchuan regained his composure and looked again, the little troublemaker who’d lit the fire was fast asleep, a faint smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. 

Song Qingchuan smiled helplessly. 

‘It seemed he really had fallen for him.’

Song Qingchuan reached up and ruffled Xia Zhixu’s curly hair, a flash of possessiveness bordering on obsession flickering in his eyes.