The Cannon Fodder’s Survival Guide at the Noble Academy - Chapter 5

◎ Are you messing with me? ◎

Dog, what a dog. An Tang cursed a few times in his heart to vent his anger, then raised his head with a professional, skin-deep smile. “I don’t have my phone with me.”

Pei Chengrui laughed in disbelief, leaning back lazily. “? Are you messing with me? Then say your number, I’ll add you.”

“198…” An Tang blurted out the first three digits, but then suddenly remembered—Roy Shelley was right beside him. Yesterday… he had just added his number, and it had been annoyingly eye-catching in front of him. He immediately shut his mouth.

“Keep going?” Pei Chengrui looked up when no answer came. “Why aren’t you continuing? Don’t tell me you can’t even remember your own number.”

An Tang shook his head frantically, blinking fast. “I… changed numbers. Haven’t memorized the new one yet.”

Pei Chengrui stopped smiling. He stared at him with icy eyes that made An Tang’s heart jolt. It felt like being stared down by a poisonous snake. His fingers curled nervously, palms sweating, but his head was fuzzy and heavy right now. Too exhausted to come up with a better excuse, he could only keep going with this lie.

“It’s true…” An Tang sniffled softly. “Last week my phone got lost, I don’t know who took it, so I had to buy a new one.”

“So expensive…” he muttered under his breath, voice faint and powerless, but that only made it sound more genuine.

His brows drawn together, his gaze dropped slightly, his whole appearance frail and pitiful. As expected, Pei Chengrui’s tone softened. He scribbled a number on paper and shoved it over.

“Here. If you dare not add me when you get back, hmph.”

Roy Shelley, who had been watching the show from the side, finally got bored. In a flat tone he commented, “You should rein in that temper of yours.”

“None of your business.” Pei Chengrui shot back, then called over, “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

When he got up from the sofa and left, An Tang finally let his hazy gaze slip away. Truth was, he hadn’t heard a single word, only absentmindedly rubbing his fingers. In his palm was the paper slip forced on him. Realizing it, he quickly tucked it into his pocket.

Still on an IV drip, how the hell was he supposed to eat? Idiot.

Footsteps faded, then drew close again. It was late. An Tang was already drowsy, probably from something added to the IV to help him rest—certainly not from his own habits. He absolutely refused to believe it had anything to do with him sleeping so late last night.

His cheek was pinched. When he didn’t wake, the grip tightened painfully.

“Don’t die here. I won’t take responsibility.”

An Tang opened his eyes, frowning, and pulled his delicate cheek away from the “abuse.” “You—” He wanted to snap, but the moment he saw Pei Chengrui’s face, the words died. He wasn’t suicidal.

“I don’t need food, just rest.”

“Hurry up. He even brought you an IV stand.”

An Tang blinked and noticed the man beside him—the one who’d dragged him here. Turns out he’d gone off to fetch the stand. No wonder he’d disappeared.

That man was intimidating—tall, burly, muscles solid, skin darkened by the sun, a typical athlete. He looked like he could swat An Tang aside with one arm. But his actions were surprisingly careful, adjusting the IV drip, even having him stand to measure the right height.

He reached as if to help steady him, but An Tang instinctively pulled back. Too close.

“All done. Xiao Jie, you can leave.” Pei Chengrui dismissed him, then grabbed An Tang’s wrist firmly. The heat of his palm seared the skin, suffocating.

“You’re supposed to be my underling, yet I’m the one serving you.” Pei Chengrui grumbled, though he still efficiently helped him along.

At last they reached the dining table. Pei Chengrui dragged out a chair and dropped into it heavily. “I’m exhausted.”

An Tang: “……” Excuse me, who’s the patient here?

He glanced around. “Just us two?”

Pei Chengrui shot him a sideways glance. “Who else do you want? Look at the time. Who hasn’t eaten already? Just me, the unlucky one stuck babysitting you, you careless idiot.”

Biting back retorts, An Tang wisely shut his mouth.

The table was kept warm; the dishes were still steaming, piping hot and incredibly delicious. An Tang almost wept. He’d never eaten so well in his life. But he wasn’t some sentimental puppy. Instead, he ate quickly, scooping rice bowl after bowl. After three heaping servings, his stomach was round and tight.

Finally full, he put down his chopsticks, drained his soup, and sat quietly. Now with energy to spare, he glanced at the man beside him—and his heart skipped a beat.

Pei Chengrui: “You eat so much, doesn’t seem like you’d have low bl00d sugar.”

An Tang wanted to slap him. How could anyone say something so cold? Was that even human? By the same logic, how could a basketball jock like him rank top of the class?

“I bought a phone, had no money left for food.”

Pei Chengrui nodded. “How much is a meal at the cafeteria?”

“Three yuan.”

“How much?!” The piece of meat he’d just picked up dropped onto the table. He stared incredulously. “How are you still alive? Don’t you have parents?”

Now An Tang truly wanted to punch him. Let them eat cake—that was exactly the type.

He braced for another round of cluelessly privileged remarks and even prepped a sarcastic but subtle comeback. Instead—

“No problem. Be my little brother. You’ll eat well and drink well. A few meals a day—I can afford that.”

Huh?! An Tang’s eyes widened. He hadn’t processed it yet, his mouth falling slightly open, revealing white teeth and a pink tongue. “What did you say?”

“You don’t look very bright.” Pei Chengrui smirked. “I said, come eat here every noon. It’d be wasted otherwise.”

“Why?” An Tang didn’t get it. They weren’t close. He had nothing of value to offer in return. He lowered his voice. “Sorry. Coming here takes too much time.”

He didn’t want more ties to the F4. The warmth in the air vanished. Fists clenched, he braced for Pei Chengrui’s anger—but…

“Oh.”

An Tang peeked up, surprised. He thought Pei Chengrui’s pride would explode. But he seemed perfectly calm.

“Then get out. Flunkies aren’t allowed here.”

“Ah-ha!” He knew it!

The IV finished, so An Tang boldly yanked it out himself. Pei Chengrui was stunned, brows knitting. “You—shouldn’t you see a doctor? Low bl00d sugar’s an illness, needs treatment.”

“It’s fine. Just a minor problem.” An Tang waved dismissively. “I’ll carry candy.”

Since lunch break was already half over, he first thought to head for the shop. But remembering how expensive candy was there, he changed direction toward the administration building.

During the short break, he didn’t want to waste time going back to the dorm. The admin building had many empty classrooms used by clubs as backups. He chose a clean one with a changing room attached, stretched out on the bench, ordered a bag of cheap candies online, and reviewed his situation.

Becoming Pei Chengrui’s underling wasn’t bad. As long as he didn’t mess up, life would be easier. Safer distance from the original storyline. More breathing room.

The weight lifted from his chest. His tense nerves finally let go. Seemed the rumors were true—F4 didn’t actually get along that well.

Yawning, he realized just how tired he was. Photos still needed to be sent… but whatever. The ringtone would wake him.

And with that thought, he drifted into sleep.

“President, I really like you. Everything I said before—I meant it.”

? An Tang stirred, annoyed. Who was talking?

“Why can’t you give me a chance? I swear I’ll treat you well.”

“My heart has only ever beat for you. Without you, I don’t even have the will to live.”

? What kind of melodramatic nonsense…

The other’s silence seemed to push the confessor into anger. “If you don’t agree to be with me, I’ll report your smoking. President, you wouldn’t want to lose your position, would you?”

An Tang was jolted awake, eyes wide. For once, he wasn’t angry about being disturbed. Instead, he was brimming with excitement—what a scandalous melon! Who dared threaten Fu Jiyu?

Even without names, mention of “President” brought only one person to mind for any Morsey student—Fu Jiyu.

Forever number one in the grade. Tall, handsome, perfect figure, wealthy family. Officially, admirers could fill a classroom. Unofficially, even more. But no one had ever dared to use threats like this.

Fu Jiyu smoking—everyone knew. But no one reported it. Because the only one punished would be the snitch. At best, Fu Jiyu would get a meaningless warning. At worst, the snitch would live in hell, every action under the Student Council’s thumb.

An Tang pressed his ear tightly to the door, eager. Say more, come on! But minutes passed, and silence reigned. Disappointed, he pouted. Just when the melon was getting juicy…

“Ring—” The late bell for class finally rang.

Brushing himself off, he prepared to step out in style.

Surely they were gone by now, right?

He cracked the door open, peered out. Empty. Safe. He hurried out. The big door slammed shut with a gust of wind, echoing loud against the wall.

Startled, heart pounding, he patted his chest. But when he turned—he spotted a tall figure by the pillar.

Two steps forward, something felt wrong. He looked again—and locked eyes with Fu Jiyu’s deep black gaze.

This time, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Goosebumps everywhere.

“You were here the whole time?” Fu Jiyu bit down on a cigarette, the ember glowing faint red.

“P–President.” An Tang had no idea why he was so terrified, but his voice shook uncontrollably. He stammered, “I didn’t hear anything.”

Fu Jiyu chuckled, snuffing the cigarette and tossing it in the trash. His voice was still raspy from the smoke. “Messing with me, are you?”