Vicious Cannon Fodder? No, It's The Beautiful Wife! - Chapter 4

Wasn’t Qin Zhao already dead?!

Yuan Su’s breathing stopped. He screamed inside.

To be wrapped around by something snake-like while sleeping—when one should be most relaxed—was absolutely not a good feeling. The slippery, cold thing tightened around his waist, coiling more and more, squeezing so hard he could barely breathe.

“You’re panting so hard. Was I too rough?”

A low, hoarse laugh whispered against his ear, like a cold-blooded creature flicking its bloody tongue.

—He’s doing this on purpose!

Yuan Su was furious but dared not speak. Terrified, he curled up, eyes shut tight like an ostrich, absurdly believing that if he couldn’t see the “ghost,” it couldn’t hurt him.

“Don’t ignore me, okay?”

The creature didn’t give up, its gentle voice laced with a fake sweetness.

Yuan Su was disgusted, almost letting out a scream. As his throat moved in a gulp, a cold tentacle touched his Adam’s apple, feeling its shiver and motion.

“Feels like a hard candy.”

The thing made a comment as if admiring a tasty treat, giving off a false sense of friendliness.

The narrow space seemed to fill with sticky, heavy tension.

Yuan Su felt like he had fallen into an icy pit.

“Don’t ignore me,” the creature cooed again, lazy and indulgent, “Wife.”

Yuan Su shot up from bed like a spring. But his struggle didn’t help. Black, vine-like tentacles exploded and yanked him back down into the mattress.

Yes, yanked down.

The soft bed turned into a swamp. He was sinking, paralyzed like under a ghost’s pressure.

“You’re not obedient at all.”

Black mist surged above him.

And then—

He fell.

Endlessly, into an abyss.

…

“Ah!”

Yuan Su woke with a start, sitting up as if shocked.

His fingers grasped the bedding, confirming it was real.

Just… a nightmare.

Panting, sweat soaked his back. His pale face slowly regained color.

“I just dreamed about Qin Zhao…”

He got out of bed; legs weak.

[You’re… walking strangely,] said the system.

“Qin Zhao came to take my life last night,” Yuan Su wiped his sweat and grumbled.

His skin still felt sticky and cool. Bite marks reddened his lips.

The suffocating sensation still lingered.

System 341 sounded more serious, [What did he do to you?]

Yuan Su recounted it, skipping the part where he was too scared to open his eyes.

“He even said some sweet things. But weren’t we a bad couple?”

Yuan Su was confused.

If Qin Zhao hated him, why not tear him apart?

He spat out his mouthwash. As he bent down, a pendant slipped out from under his shirt. He shoved it back without noticing the faint flash it gave.

Finished with washing up, he was ready to find Qu Zhilan. But when it was time to dress, he froze.

[Qu Zhilan is in the guild. You need to spend time with him before he leaves to search for supplies and survivors…]

341 kept talking, but Yuan Su stood still, face pink.

Even alone, he whispered, “I don’t have underwear…”

His disappeared last night—creepy.

341 fell silent for a moment.

[Actually… even if you go out like this, no one would know.]

Yuan Su blushed deeper. “It doesn’t feel safe.”

Wearing nothing at home was fine. But outside? Not happening.

He was conflicted, but a million-yuan salary wasn’t something to argue with.

…

At the guild that morning, a few members fought during task distribution. Qu Zhilan heard about it during a meeting with the military.

Without a leader, some had become ambitious, eager to seize power or benefits.

The hall was chaotic, the fighters now gathered.

“With the leader dead, is Qu Zhilan in charge now?” sneered a scar-faced man.

He pushed someone away and wiped bl00d off his lip. “Who knows if he’s the one who did it?”

“Shut up!” yelled a tall man with a bruised face. “Qu-ge is loyal! You’re the one twisting facts!”

Scar-man mocked him. “Qu Zhilan’s second-in-command. Of course, power goes to him.”

“Qin Zhao died in the wild, no proof. How convenient!”

Spitting on the ground, he added, “You idiots are being played!”

A cold voice cut in.

“No shouting in the hall.”

Everyone froze, instinctively looking toward the door.

Qu Zhilan casually tossed his coat to someone beside him. His cold, sharp eyes locked onto Scar-man.

“You seem to have something to say.”

Qu Zhilan walked up calmly.

Scar-man froze, but quickly recovered, just opening his mouth—

SMACK!

A baton was shoved into it.

Scar-man fell back, bl00d pouring.

“But I don’t want to hear it,” Qu Zhilan said, kneeling on his ribs, shoving the baton deeper while pressing a dagger to his wrist.

Scar-man broke out in cold sweat, too scared to move.

Qu Zhilan smirked. “Life’s tough in the apocalypse. Cutting your hand would ruin your future—I’m not that cruel.”

Then—

“But your tongue… that can go.”

He grabbed it, sliced it clean.

Scar-man screamed like a pig being slaughtered.

Everyone went silent.

Qu Zhilan stood, dropped the bloody piece into a trash bin.

“Anyone else who starts a fight will be fed to the mutant beasts.”

He frowned at his dirty gloves, threw them away, and went upstairs.

“Get back to work.”

People dispersed. The troublemaker was dragged away.

The guild had been warned—no one dared to act up again.

Qu Zhilan gave a few orders about a rescue mission three days later. Then he removed his gloves.

Just then, his private comm lit up with a strange number.

He never gave it out.

Still, he answered. “Who is this?”

A soft voice, like a feather brushing his ear, answered:

“Hi, Qu Zhilan. It’s me.”

The nervous tone and faint static stirred something inside him.

For a moment, he wanted to hang up. But his fingers clenched the device tightly.

“What is it?” he asked, annoyed.

He tried to resist. The tone he used still carried his earlier anger.

Yuan Su paused on the other end.

Qu Zhilan realized his own regret and bit his tongue in frustration.

“How did you get my number?”

Yuan Su didn’t answer, instead saying, “I have a small problem. Can you help me?”

“Say it.”

“My…” Yuan Su bit his lip.

His mission was to seduce Qu Zhilan. But saying “Can you buy me some underwear?” was just too embarrassing!

“Qin Zhao’s place doesn’t have my… underclothes.”

341 scoffed, [What an old-fashioned way to put it.]

Yuan Su ignored that and continued, “Can you buy some for me?”

His voice was low and soft, like warm breath against your ear.

Yuan Su got no reply, growing embarrassed.

“You’re the only one I know. I can’t ask anyone else.”

It sounded like he was talking from under a pillow—shy and sweet.

Only him…

Didn’t want to bother others…

And it was underwear.

Qu Zhilan felt a rush of chaotic thoughts.

He sat lazily on the couch like a relaxed panther, shadow hiding his dark expression.

Long fingers rubbed his jaw. His eyes lifted toward the window.

What now?

Was Yuan Su… waiting for him naked in Qin Zhao’s house?