The Cannon Fodder’s Survival Guide at the Noble Academy - Chapter 15

◎Sent to all four people at once◎

Overcome with emotion, An Tang didn’t even return to the interview site. Instead, he turned toward the teaching building. Halfway there, he suddenly remembered what he’d forgotten.

Back at his desk, he pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message. Fortunately, Jia Yu was a bit thick-headed and didn’t ask too many questions.

Without anyone using it, the phone screen gradually dimmed to black. An Tang stared at the blank screen in silence before tossing the phone back into his desk.

It wasn’t until evening, after scribbling out page after page of curse words on paper, that he finally felt a little of the frustration in his chest dissipate. Feeling refreshed, he pulled his phone back out and continued his little-brother duties.

【Boss! Are you at school tonight?】 Earlier at lunch, Pei Chengrui had said he might not be back in the evening. For the sake of “leftover safety,” he’d even given An Tang a spare key.

After a while, Pei Chengrui finally replied: 【I’m not there. No one’s around, so no one can see you eating leftovers. Just go over and eat.】

An Tang had solid reasons to suspect he was being mocked.

He pouted and gave a little huff.

The evening sun was much gentler, and with water trucks constantly spraying the grounds to cool them, it wasn’t as stiflingly hot as in the afternoon.

Walking along the path shaded by trees, clusters of wisteria hung down, their tender blossoms swaying in the breeze, scattering petals one by one.

“Hi, classmate~”

?

An Tang stopped.

It was the guy from the interview.

“Hello, I’m Fang Xiu,” he introduced himself first, then explained, “I noticed you didn’t come back afterward. I was wondering if you’re still interested in the interview?”

An Tang shook his head. He’d already torn things open with Fu Jiyu— even if he showed up for the interview, he’d just be eliminated. Why bother with the extra hassle?

Fang Xiu glanced around, and once he saw no one nearby, leaned in close and whispered, “Here’s the thing, the interview slots are fixed. If someone doesn’t show, the ratio gets thrown off, and when the results are posted, it won’t look credible.”

He pressed his palms together in a pleading gesture. “It really won’t be any trouble—just two or three questions, and it’ll be over fast. Please, I’m begging you.”

An Tang frowned, hesitating. He glanced toward the villa not far away. He’d already walked this far, hadn’t he…

“Please—what do you want to eat? Dinner’s on me,” Fang Xiu said quickly, sensing his hesitation.

After wavering for a while, An Tang finally decided to go. “It’s fine, I’ve got free time now anyway. No need to treat me.” (That would only create more leftover trouble.)

Soon, under Fang Xiu’s shortcut guidance, they arrived outside the office.

“Good luck! Hope you pass!” Fang Xiu cheered him on at the door.

An Tang smiled faintly. Passing had never even crossed his mind.

Inside, he signed in and sat down.

…Five minutes later, after casually answering a few questions, he walked out—only to have a big boxed meal shoved into his arms.

Fang Xiu had brought it back from the cafeteria, thoughtfully packing the dishes and rice separately.

Caught between amusement and exasperation, An Tang tried to hand it back, but Fang Xiu stubbornly refused, so he could only accept it.

After Fang Xiu left, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Distracted, he didn’t notice a figure slipping past him and striding away.

“Eh? Hey! How did you come out of there—” His words stuck in his throat mid-sentence. Even his breathing froze.

It was Fu Jiyu! What was the president doing here? Had he been inside all along?

Thank goodness Fang Xiu hadn’t blurted out the rest. As soon as Fu Jiyu’s silhouette disappeared, he spun on his heel and hurried away.

On the way, one thought nagged at him:

The president… wasn’t he supposed to have no interest in this kind of thing? Something about this didn’t add up.

This really didn’t add up!

Opening the fridge, An Tang saw that hardly any food was left inside.

But—yesterday it had been full! How was it now reduced to just a few chicken legs?

Who? Who was stealing his leftovers? The leftovers he’d fought so hard for with his own strength!

Immediately, An Tang zeroed in on his prime suspect and sent Pei Chengrui a message.

【I can’t seem to find the food in the fridge. Did you see it?】

Luckily, he still had a hot meal in hand. Sliding the “last chicken leg” into the microwave, he began eating while waiting.

He kept glancing over at the microwave. By the time he’d eaten several bites, neither had replied.

Until—two simultaneous “ding”s rang out.

For a moment, he froze mid-squat, half sitting, half standing, caught between motions—and almost laughed.

This world really was full of strange coincidences. Either nothing happened, or everything happened at once.

He chose to sit back down and opened the message.

【I didn’t steal your food.】

An Tang: 【Then why is it gone?】

【How would I know? Maybe the cook saw it and thought it was slop for the pigs.】 Another message followed: 【There are fresh cooked dishes in the fridge. Just heat those.】

An Tang pursed his lips and shut off his phone.

Carrying the hot chicken leg and meal, he returned to his own little den. On the way, his irritation only grew. Look at that—slop, pigs—what kind of thing was that to say? And pigs couldn’t even eat food this good. They ate bran! What a brainless pig.

His chest rose and fell sharply. His eyes burned, his face was flushed, and even his heart ached with anger.

Just as he was about to turn the key in the door lock, he stopped. Then he reopened the door.

He marched straight to the fridge, took a deep breath, and resolutely cleared it out—every dish inside. He’d originally meant to throw it away, but… wasting food was a terrible habit, and he couldn’t afford to be wasteful yet.

It hadn’t been that many years since he could eat his fill.

After searching around, he found a large empty canvas sack near the trash bin. Perfect for carrying things.

If it was lying by the trash, it had to be unwanted, right? Fine, then—he’d take it, if only to spite him.

Quickly, he looted the entire upper storage compartment of the fridge.

Hands on hips, he stared at the half-full sack of delicious food and fruit, then hurriedly ordered a second-hand mini-fridge from the campus flea market.

Since it was local, it would arrive that very afternoon.

For appliances like this, the dorm admin charged electricity fees based on wattage.

Even if you bought one and didn’t plug it in, the fee was still deducted.

An Tang had never had the need before—it was too expensive and wasteful. Other than a popsicle or soda, what else could he even store?

But now he did. Oh, he really did.

Emptying just one shelf wasn’t enough. He threw open the whole fridge, squatted down like a little hoarding hamster, and swept everything—useful or not—into the bag. Only dishes that needed further cooking were left behind. The fridge was as good as empty.

Feeling his frustration dissipate, he hummed a little tune, picked out a dessert, hefted his heavy bag onto his back, and left satisfied.

He thought the villa belonged solely to Pei Chengrui, so he hadn’t held back. He hadn’t left a single crumb.

So when Roy Shelley came downstairs from his nap and opened the fridge for a drink—

…

He froze instantly. Then he called Pei Chengrui.

“Hey, did you know—”

His face was grave. “It looks like there’s been a break-in.”

“Ahhh!” came Pei Chengrui’s shriek from the other end. “What did they take? My limited-edition sneakers are safe, right?”

“They… stole the fruit and drinks from the fridge. Maybe a few popsicles too.”

“…? Are you sick?”

Panting heavily, An Tang lugged the sack upstairs, his waist and back aching from the strain.

In the heat, even the slightest exertion made sweat pour out, let alone carrying such a heavy load.

He fanned himself a little to recover, then went straight into the shower without taking anything else.

When he came out, a towel was draped over his shoulders. He only bothered putting on underwear. Thinking about the photos he had to take, he slipped into just a thin undershirt and squatted by the door to unpack his delivery.

This time, he’d prepared thoroughly—gear and props in abundance. But he’d bought too much, and the packages piled into a little mountain.

Just unpacking left his legs numb. When he stood, he grew dizzy, catching himself against the wall and popping a piece of candy into his mouth.

The sugary, artificial sweetness was overwhelming—industrial saccharin. Not tasty, but effective. Once he felt better, he crouched again to sort through today’s items.

Inside were all sorts of things not exactly… proper. The kind that made his face burn to look at.

In the past, he wouldn’t have worn such things even under threat of death.

But now…

Grimacing, he pulled a tight leather skirt up his legs.

Finally yanking it to his waist, he collapsed backward on the bed like a fish out of water, chest heaving.

Seemed he’d bathed for nothing.

Why was it so hard to put on?

Still, the material was better than before—it didn’t scrape his skin raw.

Turning the AC down lower, he pushed himself up again.

The leather skirt came with many accessories—waist chain, leg garters, even a fluffy tail.

After thinking it over, he dug out a cropped shirt. The shirt only barely covered his lower abdomen. Looking at himself in the mirror, his face turned crimson.

Hurriedly, he rummaged again. This batch of outfits was all… not exactly wholesome, but online they were advertised as “weapons of seduction.”

Suppressing his urge to switch back into his plain white tee, he chose a pale lavender see-through blouse. At least that looked a bit decent.

It wasn’t long, either—any movement made it ride up. He dared not look in the mirror again, so he strapped on a belt around his waist, convincing himself it looked more normal.

A bit of self-deception: This should be fine, right?

In front of the full-length mirror, with the soft carpet at his knees, he posed like the online tutorials showed—one hand pressing his ankle back.

He hurriedly snapped a few photos, his ears burning red. Just as he was about to change out—

Knock knock knock—

He was about to ask who it was when he suddenly remembered the plot. His character was a loner with almost no interactions with others. And…

Checking his phone—no one had messaged in advance.

Which meant the person outside was a stranger. And earlier that day, he’d seen the “protagonist shou,” who had been wearing a school uniform with a badge.

Maybe the morning’s encounter had just been an accident? But now—this could very well be the plot continuing. What was supposed to happen after opening the door…?

Frowning in concentration, An Tang couldn’t remember. Fear prickled in his chest, and instinct screamed at him not to move.

Ding dong ding dong ding dong— The sharp chime rang out again and again.

Going out was impossible. Meeting them would inevitably lead to conflict. From the earlier accidents, he’d already figured out the pattern. He wasn’t ready to become the “villain” in the protagonist’s eyes just yet.

So… play dead?

Decision made, he relaxed his furrowed brow and rubbed at his temples.

When he changed out of the outfit, the ringing had stopped.

They gave up? So the plot could be controlled?

Back on the bed, he began thinking about who to send the photos to.

Suddenly, the ding dong ding dong shrilled again, urgent as death’s knock.

Startled, his hand slipped.

He sent them to all four people at once.