The Cannon Fodder’s Survival Guide at the Noble Academy - Chapter 12

◎Be my capable little assistant◎

“Pff—hahahahaha—” Pei Chengrui put down his cup and laughed heartily.

Seeing Fu Jiyu’s darkened expression, An Tang didn’t dare to speak again. He quickly filled the cup, hugged the bottle, and scurried back to his seat.

Only after he sat down did he cautiously raise his eyes to glance at the others. With a long sigh, he thought—forget it, better not move anymore. The more he moved, the worse it got.

He really hadn’t expected Fu Jiyu to drink this kind of beverage. After all, that cold, distant air of his made him seem like some immortal untouched by the mortal world…

When their eyes met, An Tang shuddered three times. What immortal? Purely a devil from hell.

Specially here to torment a poor wretch like him.

Because of that little scene, An Tang obediently stayed put for the rest of the meal until the banquet finally ended and the three of them got up to leave.

Following them out, An Tang reached the doorway but his soul seemed caught behind. He turned back reluctantly to look at the table—so many dishes still untouched.

“What are you looking at?” Pei Chengrui turned around when he noticed he wasn’t following. Seeing that unwilling face, he almost laughed out loud. To outsiders, it would look like he’d left his wife and child behind in there.

An Tang raised his eyes at him, but quickly lowered them again, looking as though he wanted to speak but didn’t dare.

Pei Chengrui frowned lightly. For some reason, the more he saw that hesitant expression, the more irritable he felt. “Say it. I don’t eat people.”

“There’s still a lot of food left… can I… pack it to go?” His voice was as soft as a mosquito.

“What!” Pei Chengrui’s sunglasses nearly slipped off his face.

“No—if not, then never mind.” An Tang scrambled to cover up. Asking to take leftovers really wasn’t very respectable.

“My little brother, eat leftovers? No way.” Pei Chengrui frowned deeply and refused without hesitation. “There’s food every day at noon that doesn’t even get finished, why would you need leftovers?”

Almost instantly, Roy Shelley, who had listened silently, stepped forward and asked gently, “How many containers do you need?”

That clearly meant it was allowed. An Tang’s eyes lit up instantly. Glancing at the table’s surplus, his little hand gestured, “Three… no, two should be fine.”

“My dorm doesn’t have air-conditioning. The food will spoil.”

“Make it three. You can put them in the villa—there’s air conditioning there, and a microwave. You can reheat them.”

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

An Tang was overjoyed. That would feed him for days without spending a dime, and it was proper food too—no debts of gratitude.

Happily taking the takeout containers from the manager, he found even the boxes at this upscale restaurant looked classy. Still plastic, but thick, with little floral patterns—very elegant.

He held one with both hands and began filling it with the serving chopsticks.

One scoop after another, and soon the box was already half full, heavy as a brick.

Just as he wanted to put it down, Roy appeared at his side and said gently, “Let me help you, it’ll go faster if we do it together.”

Every word was full of consideration for him. An Tang couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

A glance outside showed the two others were waiting.

“Thank you so much,” he whispered, and hurried to speed up his portioning.

Roy only shook his head lightly, as if to say “no need to be so polite.”

With his and the manager’s help, An Tang quickly filled all three boxes. The weight in his hands was solid, and his heart felt equally grounded and satisfied.

Only… Pei Chengrui was walking way too fast! He almost couldn’t keep up. Roy noticed and slowed down, taking one of the heavy bags from him.

Feeling the sudden lightness, An Tang turned his head and was startled to see Roy holding the bag. He looked gratefully at him, tried to take it back, but when he couldn’t win the tug-of-war, the two ended up in a strange position, carrying it together.

They barely caught up at the car. Pei Chengrui was already inside. An Tang got in too, reaching to close the door—when a slender hand caught his arm. The pale, thin wrist bent under the grip, so fragile that even wrapping fingers around it left space.

Following An Tang’s attempt to pull back, Roy came up as well, man and boxes both climbing into the car.

Pei Chengrui immediately grabbed An Tang’s hand. “What are you doing here? Get out!”

Roy just smiled pleasantly and pointed outside. “Ah Yu already drove off. Give me a lift, will you? I’ll pay for the extra gas.”

Though his words were directed at Pei Chengrui, his gaze stayed fixed on An Tang. By the time he finished speaking, he was already seated.

The door slammed shut, cutting off Pei Chengrui’s protest.

“Thanks! I knew you were generous.”

Pei Chengrui: “…” He was so angry he could hardly breathe.

“Uncle Chen, drive on. We’re all going back to school—it’s perfectly on the way.”

Uncle Chen glanced at the three in the rearview mirror, baffled. The front seat was empty, yet none of them sat there.

Even though the car was spacious, three people squeezed together meant unavoidable brushing of hands and knees.

Especially for An Tang in the middle. He hunched in tightly, trying not to touch anyone at all.

But that was impossible. Within seconds, the weight in his arms lightened.

The boxes he had just wrested back from Roy were taken again.

“I think Peipei has a mini-fridge here. Let’s put them in for now.”

Before An Tang could process who “Peipei” was to Pei Chengrui, he heard Pei’s cold snort: “Why don’t you just buy my car, hm? Anyone would think it was yours.”

Roy’s smile didn’t falter. “Didn’t I gift you a car on your birthday, Peipei?”

Then he turned and, seeing An Tang’s little jaw hanging open in surprise, found him even cuter. He reached out and gently pushed it closed. “What’s so shocking?”

An Tang blinked. Dryly, he asked, “How much does… a car like this cost?”

He’d heard people talk about birthday gifts before, but not many in Class A were that rich. A car like this… it looked like the price of a whole house. So—giving a car was like giving a house. Very good value, too.

“A few hundred? A thousand? Not that much.”

An Tang fell silent. Not jealous, not confused—just lost in fantasies of having millions himself, living free and easy. Fine food, flashy rides, a life of indulgence. Just thinking about it made him dizzy with longing.

“It’s fine, I can hold them.” An Tang shook his head. Knowing there was a mini-fridge in the car only made him more anxious—these two had eaten so happily earlier. Compared to that, a little extra weight was nothing. What if he dirtied the fridge?

For some reason, following Roy’s gaze, he turned and looked at Pei Chengrui, then back again, puzzled. He felt as if Roy harbored ulterior motives.

The tense tug-of-war was broken by the third party. Pei Chengrui reached over, snatched the boxes midair, and stuffed them into the fridge. “Leave them. They’ll stay fresh. I’ll take them out myself when we get off.”

That stunned not only An Tang, but also Roy.

An odd silence filled the car, lasting until the school came into sight.

Roy finally spoke: “You… your name’s An Tang, right?”

“Mm.” An Tang nodded, giving him a wary glance. Only just now did this man bother asking?

“Want to exchange numbers? We can hang out next time.”

Pei Chengrui cut in: “He didn’t bring his phone. I’ll give you his contact later.”

Roy fell silent. Leaning back, his golden hair spilling over, he turned to stare at Pei Chengrui.

Sensing the strange tension, An Tang shrank further in, folding his hands primly on his lap, sitting ramrod straight.

The car stopped. An Tang hurried out.

Pei Chengrui retrieved the boxes from the fridge and carried them forward.

“Hey,” Roy called after him.

Pei didn’t stop.

“Are you serious?” Roy, unusually lacking in tact, pressed on behind him. “Really?”

Pei Chengrui finally snapped, glaring at him. “Say another word and I’ll sew your mouth shut.”

“Ooooh, I’m so scared.”

“Why? Just because he’s cute?” Roy was startled at his own words, but quickly continued anyway. “Don’t you have severe OCD? You can stand having leftovers in your precious fridge?”

“None of your business.”

—

The first thing An Tang did upon returning to his dorm was turn on his phone. Immediately, a flood of notifications from the whole day poured in, ding-ding-ding.

After it froze and restarted, he deleted all the ads, leaving only a handful of real messages.

Finally, he could check yesterday’s replies from the four targets.

He clicked Fu Jiyu’s first. No reply yet. But the others… he saw the little red dots. A bad feeling crept into his chest.

To confirm, he sent just a colon.

Sure enough, it bounced back with an exclamation mark. That glaring red symbol was like a clown’s nose—mocking him, dazzling in its shame.

He grumbled angrily for several minutes before calming down. Regret? No way. The only pity was losing this account. But that didn’t matter—he had already anticipated it.

There were countless ways to fake things. As long as it wasn’t too extreme, a little playing with feelings shouldn’t cause any real trouble.

His strongest skill was summarizing experience and starting anew. Before the worst-case scenario arrived, there was always room to maneuver.

The good thing was, he’d achieved some success on the first attempt. Life would get better and better. Sooner or later, no matter how much he despised and resented it now, it would all turn into a glorious face-slapping moment.

He looked forward to that. The power to choose always lay with those who took the initiative.

Steeling himself, he returned to the message list, quickly skimming Pei Chengrui and Roy Shelley’s.

All trivial. Clearly useless.

Frowning, he opened the last one with little hope.

Then his pupils widened, staring in disbelief at the words above.

【Ji Suyong: Help me? Then would you like to be my capable assistant? The tasks are easy, the pay generous.】