The Cannon Fodder’s Survival Guide at the Noble Academy - Chapter 9

◎ Let’s meet again ◎

That lingering, haunting presence—sudden, irrational, appearing at the most illogical times—just like a ghost!

An Tang pressed his chest, his delicate brows furrowed. He was nearly scared half to death.

He reached for his phone, eyes scanning that line twice. His frown deepened. What the hell does “send it again” mean? Damn it, does he really think he’s the emperor, making demands whenever he wants?

Did he want another photo, or did he just want to insult him? An Tang couldn’t tell, so he played dumb:

【Ah? Gege? What do you mean?】

【Fu Jieyu: The photo. Send it again.】

So he really did mean the photo. An Tang narrowed his eyes, head tilting upward smugly. Hah, as if that’s difficult.

You say send, and I’ll just send? Hmph! He hadn’t expected that the same guy who said this morning he wasn’t interested in boys would now be asking for photos. The face-slapping sure came fast.

Heh. As expected, there isn’t a man in the world who would truly turn down free bait. It’s just a matter of whether or not you hit their taste.

With eyes curved in amusement, An Tang proudly sent the photo again, adding:
【Gege, do you like me like this?】

Two minutes later, Fu Jieyu replied.

【Your shoulders are too narrow. Can’t even see your neck. Your collarbones are tiny. You’re so thin it looks uncomfortable to touch. Why twist your waist like you’ve got something to hide? And that heavy filter—makes you look like a ghost.】

Boom. His face flushed red hot, his temples smoked with rage.

The cold, clinical critique of his body hit like a slap—shattering the little joy he had been feeling before.

An Tang had never thought his figure was that great, but having it pointed out so bluntly, so emotionlessly… humiliation mixed with fury.

He swore—he swore he would conquer this man, and then dump him ruthlessly. He wouldn’t rest until Fu Jieyu was destroyed!

“Just you wait,” he muttered, lips curling as he typed.

【Gege, you sound like an expert (＾－＾). Then what do you think I should wear?】

【Fu Jieyu: No other meaning. Just letting you know—you’re completely not my type. Don’t bother me again.】

Clatter! The phone slammed onto the bed, bounced, and went dark.

An Tang stood frozen, face burning, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he tried to calm down.

After a few moments, he went to his desk, yanked open the deepest drawer, and pulled out that book. It looked even older, even more tattered—and the moment he touched it, he realized nearly half its pages were gone.

Sirens rang in his head. Panic flooded him. Everything else vanished from his mind as he flipped through it. The missing pages weren’t random—they were gone from both the front and the back.

The book that foretold the future was disappearing. Was it because reality was changing?

An Tang gripped the desk hard, brows twisted tight. It wasn’t anything in the room. It could only be outside—an external force. Was the “main shou” about to appear?

But all his attempts at seduction had been pointless so far. No one had believed him—whether it was temptation, stories, or flattery…

Like this, didn’t it just show his “methods” were clumsy?

Maybe they had already seen through him.

Patience gone, he decided to play it straight.

This was the last time. He swore to himself: one last attempt. If this failed too, he’d change his target.

He needed to go over the top. Something more extreme, more enticing.

An Tang wasn’t some caveman. He had heard of things like NPCs, cannon fodder, stepping stones. At first he had laughed at it, but with everything happening now, the thought became uncomfortably real.

Fighting with the “main shou”? That didn’t scare him. As long as he avoided certain plots, he could manage. But what did scare him was the inevitability of the plot—being forced into stupid actions and all the chain reactions after.

He could admit: yes, the book’s cannon fodder character was probably him. But not 100%. Similar background, similar experiences… maybe just coincidence. After all, he had never been as ridiculously malicious as that character.

But what if he really was being pulled by the plot?

Resolving himself, he typed:

【Gege, don’t you really want an obedient little dog? I can do anything.】

Just one person wasn’t safe. Gritting his teeth, An Tang copied the message and sent it to four people.

The next morning, he was woken by a phone call.

He had waited late into the night for replies, but not a single person responded. Shame and anger clashed inside him, tossing him around until dawn before he finally dozed off. When he woke, his body still felt heavy.

Without even checking the caller ID, he answered with a groggy: “Hello~?”

On the other end—just breathing.

He said “hello” again. Still no reply.

Why wasn’t the other person speaking? If you don’t want to talk, then hang up. He thought irritably.

Still exhausted, he gave one last “hello,” and when there was still silence, he hung up and drifted back to sleep.

The next time he woke, it was to the blaring dorm doorbell. At Morexi, every dorm had its own bell, audible only inside the room, loud as hell. Normally the school even used it as a broadcast system.

But it was the weekend. No classes, no need to wake early.

An Tang yanked his blanket angrily, kicked on slippers, didn’t brush his teeth or wash his face, still wearing last night’s undershirt and with his hair sticking up, and went to open the door.

Cautious as always, he cracked it just a little, peeking out. The bell stopped automatically as soon as the door opened.

His unhappy eyes widened instantly when he saw who it was.

Bang! He slammed the door shut.

Back pressed against it, he stomped his feet in panic.

Why—why was Fu Jieyu here?! What for?! And his clothes—damn! Hopefully Fu hadn’t seen anything.

“Pei Chengrui said you live here. He told me to come get you. The game’s about to start.”

Like ice water poured over his head, An Tang’s mind snapped awake. Right—yes—he was Pei Chengrui’s new underling now, and he had agreed before to come.

Slapping his forehead, he scolded himself: wake up already!

“I know. You go first. I’ll be there soon.”

Hearing no reply, he assumed Fu Jieyu had left. Rushing, he washed up, changed into a loose T-shirt and dark green shorts.

But when he opened the door—Fu Jieyu was still there. He jumped in fright.

The man was standing calmly, gaze fixed outside. Thankfully he hadn’t looked into the messy dorm. Clothes still piled everywhere from last night… if Fu had seen, An Tang would have died of shame.

Locking the door quickly, he asked guiltily, “You’re still here?”

Fu Jieyu tilted his head slightly at the sound. “Pei Chengrui told me to escort you to the court.”

An Tang wanted to defend himself: “It was just an accident today. Normally I get up early.”

“Mm. I know you.”

“You… know me?” He blinked. That was strange. They barely interacted.

“Two days ago. On the stairs. You bumped me on purpose.”

The words stuck in An Tang’s throat. The flattery he had prepared died instantly. His mouth hung open, unable to close.

Finally, after an awkward pause, he forced a laugh: “No, the hallway was just narrow. An accident.”

Fu Jieyu gave a cold snort and said nothing more.

When they reached the stairwell, An Tang froze, patting his pockets.

“What is it?”

He blinked twice, voice dry: “I forgot my phone.”

“Go back and get it.” Fu Jieyu turned to head back.

“No!” An Tang blocked him in panic. There was no way he could let anyone see inside his room.

But before his hand even touched, Fu had already stepped back, brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

Did he really need to look at him like he was poison? The rejection stung his eyes. Frustrated, depressed, he lowered his head and walked ahead. “Nothing. Just… I don’t think I’ll need my phone. Let’s go. We’re already late.”

He regretted those words soon after. On the way, boredom crept in, and he found himself calculating his budget—then remembered Pei Chengrui’s fat tip.

He looked around. No familiar faces. But to ask this disdainful guy for help? He’d rather die.

Still, he patted his pocket cautiously—and miraculously felt something solid. Relief rushed through him.

By then, they were near the gym. The cheers were already audible.

“I’m too thirsty,” he said. “I’ll buy some water first.”

“Mm.” Fu Jieyu kept walking straight in. His job done, he clearly didn’t want to hang around An Tang longer.

Face falling, An Tang kicked a pebble all the way to the shop, imagining it was Fu’s head.

Standing before the drink aisle, he finally pulled the “money” from his pocket—only to find a piece of scrap paper.

His eyes widened. He never stuffed scrap paper in his pockets!

Frowning, he unfolded it—and froze at the messy scrawl across the page.

Quickly, he crumpled it up, face blank as he looked around.

Nearby, a man in black stood silently. Civilian clothes, no school badge. An Tang didn’t recognize him. But the man’s eyes had clearly just been on that paper—and when their gazes met, the man looked away, a little too fast.

Had he seen?

Whoever had planted this… prank… it didn’t matter. Maybe he could use it, spin it into sympathy, solve his problems.

Blinking, letting tears pool until his eyes shone, An Tang asked sweetly: “Do you have money? Can you lend me a little?”

The man paused, then raised his phone and nodded.

Relief washed over him. As long as the guy was willing, everything else could be smoothed over. “I forgot my phone,” he explained. “I thought I had money in my pocket but it was just…”

“It’s fine.” The man cut him off. “Buy whatever you need.”

“Thank you! I might need a bit more, since I have to bring it to the gym…” He babbled nervously.

The man’s expression grew more serious. Mistaking it for reluctance, An Tang quickly added: “Or… I could just buy a couple bottles first.”

“It’s fine. Get them. I have money.”

“Thank you so much!” He was effusive with gratitude as he grabbed two bottles. Then he hesitated—basketball meant lots of thirst. Water was best. But since it wasn’t his money…

His eyes flicked between a case of bottled water and a big water jug. Choosing the cheaper option, he tugged lightly on the man’s sleeve.

“Just these two bottles… and that jug.”

The man looked at him, then at his skinny arms. “Can you carry it?”

“It’s nothing!” An Tang flexed. “I’ve got plenty of strength.”

The man’s eyes swept over his thin wrists. Saying nothing, he paid, then easily lifted the water jug himself.

Panic struck. An Tang rushed to hold it: “No no no, I’ll do it, thank you!”

“It’s fine. Not heavy.” Carrying it, the man walked toward the gym.

Seeing his own “protective charm” made useless, An Tang reluctantly withdrew his hands, following sheepishly behind. “Thanks, Yan An. Your name’s so nice. My name’s An Tang. Add me later—I’ll pay you back as soon as I get home.”

“Yan An,” he replied. Then added, “with the character for ‘saddle.’”

“Ohhh.”

The walk was quiet. Clearly, Yan An wasn’t much of a talker. Nearing the gym, An Tang hurried to help take the jug.

“Thank you, Yan An. I’d have been dead tired carrying this myself.”

Yan An: “No trouble.”

“I’ll transfer the money back to you later, I promise.”

He shook his head. “Don’t bother. It wasn’t much.”

That wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t just snatch the man’s phone to add himself either. Thinking fast, he said, “Then I’ll give you cash next time we meet.”

Yan An had already taken two steps away, but when he heard that, he turned back, smiled, and waved. “No need.”

“Let’s meet again, okay?” An Tang called after him.

The man froze, then nodded. Only then did An Tang smile in satisfaction, hoist up the water, and head inside.