The Gold-Digging Cannon Fodder

Ding…

The system notification rang out. After an unknown number of chimes, someone finally pressed the answer button.

Xue Zhen was expressionless.

“Hello?!” A young man’s voice barked from the other end, his tone aggressive. “Tang Xue Zhen! Did you see my messages or not?!”

“I told you to be here this afternoon. Where the hell are you?”

The person on the other end had a foul attitude, and Xue Zhen’s expression grew even colder. 886 drifted back and forth in mid-air, watching its freshly minted host nervously. On what served as the light-ball’s face, pixelated eyes appeared with very human-like expressions—one moment squinting into thin lines, the next widening in shock.

Facing the situation, Xue Zhen used his accumulated mission experience to respond with icy calm.

“Mm,” his voice was soft and clear as it reached the other end, causing the caller to startle. “I saw them.”

The young man on the phone paused.

Xue Zhen had a beautiful voice, tinged with a hint of lazy nasality. It sounded inexplicably soft. Unprepared for this, the man hesitated; when he spoke again, his tone had softened slightly: “Then why aren’t you here yet?”

Xue Zhen didn’t speak. The man followed up with instructions: “Dress yourself up a bit. Have Mother Zhou help you get ready.”

“Young Master Qi is coming tonight. Don’t embarrass the Tang family.”

With that, the call disconnected.

The dial tone beeped once, and Xue Zhen set his phone down. He turned to stare at the system that only he could see.

“Romance System?” “First task-taker?” Xue Zhen arched an eyebrow. “Forced labor?”

886 drifted closer to its host, feeling guilty. Xue Zhen let out a cold snort, delivering a scathing review of his first world since the transfer.

“This is even more stifling than being a villain.”

Right out of the gate, someone was bossing him around. Back in the Villain Department, things never worked like this. No matter the type of “Dragon Aotian” protagonist, they all stood a head shorter than him in the early stages, serving him tea and water.

As for the later stages… the villain would have already logged out by then.

886 drooped despondently.

There are thousands upon thousands of small worlds, each with various loopholes making it difficult to stay on track. This gave rise to the Main God Space and the Transmigration Bureau, where task-takers from every corner of the universe scrambled to enter mission worlds.

The Bureau is divided into many departments. There is the Protagonist Department, where one acts as the lead in every world. There is the Supporting Character Counterattack Department, helping minor characters change their fate and live out their dreams. The list is endless.

Among them, the Protagonist Department is the most popular; task-takers can live a life of promotions, wealth, and reaching the pinnacle of success. The Villain Department is the least popular—first, because the roles aren’t “positive,” and second, because one must always be slapped in the face by the lead before going offline.

Because of this, 886 had been full of confidence.

The pale blue light-ball hung in the air, twisting guiltily. Why would a task-taker only want to be a villain who dies early? Why wouldn’t he want to fall in love with a Dragon Aotian? 886 didn’t understand, but its hands had been fast enough to bind him anyway.

In its distress, 886 twisted itself into a blue pretzel. Finding it couldn’t untwist, the light-ball let out an “Oh my!” and spun several times in the opposite direction. 886 rolled its eyes around and let out a sigh of relief when it saw its host wasn’t looking.

886 ( > < ): “Host…”

The blue ball squeezed out a crying expression, shedding pixelated tears. Xue Zhen eyed the sneaky 886. “Can you perform that again?”

886 ⊙▽⊙: “What?”

Under 886’s confused gaze, Xue Zhen reached out and gave the system a fierce flick to the forehead. The light-ball was sent flying, hitting the corner of the wall with a duang.

“Oh my…”

Xue Zhen’s face remained icy. “That.”

Splosh.

The faucet was running. The bright bathroom lights spilled down, clearly illuminating the slender silhouette in the mirror.

Having just washed his face, the tips of his hair were damp, tucked haphazardly behind his ears to reveal snowy-white cheeks. Droplets dripped from his forehead, tracing the exquisite hollows of his eyes, sliding down the bridge of his elegant nose, and vanishing into the crimson pearl of his lip.

His eyelashes were also wet—long, curled, and framing pitch-black pupils that shone with a pure, watery luster. He looked like a bird with rain-soaked feathers, drenched and delicate.

Xue Zhen lowered his eyelids. His fingertips had turned bright red from the cold water, making the faint violet veins more apparent.

This was his own body. Unlike other task-takers, Xue Zhen was accustomed to using his original body in mission worlds. However, his appearance would undergo subtle adjustments depending on the world’s setting.

For example, in the last horror world, his eyes turned red and he grew sharp fangs. Now that he was in a modern world, he had fully reverted to his original appearance.

“I’m not really used to this…” Xue Zhen grumbled, grabbing a towel to roughly dry his hair.

He had spent too much time as a high-and-mighty villain. Suddenly becoming a “pitiful little thing” who had to fall in love with a Dragon Aotian was simply rotten luck.

The first world 886 had kidnapped him into was titled The Gold-Digging Boyfriend of the True and False Young Masters.

The protagonist was a “Dragon Aotian” named Qi Wu. He was originally the eldest son of the Qi family but went missing at age three. After many twists and turns, he grew up in an orphanage, developing a resilient character. According to the storyline, he suffered greatly in childhood but used his extraordinary talent and hard work to get into the best university in City A as the top scorer.

During university, Qi Wu began to shine, investing in emerging industries and quickly accumulating capital to establish himself in the business world. Due to business dealings, he ended up in fierce competition with the currently celebrated “Eldest Young Master” of the Qi family, Qi Suichuan.

However, Qi Wu was the true young master. What followed was the cliché plot of face-slapping and kinship recognition; the Dragon Aotian was welcomed home by his biological parents, his career soared, and everyone envied him.

As for Xue Zhen… he was Qi Suichuan’s rumored boyfriend.

Xue Zhen was a stepson of the Tang family. He had followed his beautiful mother into the Tang household and was considered the young master. He had an older brother, Tang Zhan—the man who had just called to badger him. Before the True Young Master was recognized, Xue Zhen took great pleasure in making things difficult for him, constantly tripping him up.

Once the True Young Master returned home, the Fake Young Master naturally had to leave. As Qi Suichuan’s boyfriend, Xue Zhen would be packed up and thrown out along with him.

But now he was bound to a Romance System. In other words, he had to take a villain’s script and use it to fall in love with the Dragon Aotian.

Xue Zhen was speechless. He pulled a “grumpy cat” face.

The only saving grace was that the plot hadn’t officially started yet; he wasn’t yet the rumored boyfriend of the Eldest Young Master Qi. Still, it was going to be a hassle.

Xue Zhen knit his brows. He was naturally beautiful with round eyes that tilted upward at the corners—standard “cat eyes” that carried a sense of arrogance no matter who he looked at. Currently, with his furrowed brows and pursed lips, he radiated displeasure. If he had a tail, he would be lashing it irritably, slapping fur into the face of every living thing in his territory.

Sensing its host’s mood, 886 floated tentatively before him. “Host…”

It was promptly flicked away by its bad-tempered host. The light-ball stuck limply to the corner of the wall, letting out a half-hearted sob.

Xue Zhen’s face was cold. “Get up.” His new host behaved like a total bully. “We’re going to see the Second Male Lead. Don’t drag me down.”

Before 886 could finish whimpering, Xue Zhen walked into the dressing room.

The apartment wasn’t large, but it was fully functional, even featuring a separate walk-in closet. Unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing wearable inside. Xue Zhen reached this conclusion after rummaging through three cabinets.

His persona in this world was incredibly materialistic, and his taste was naturally abysmal. The closet was stuffed with brand-name clothes, but they were gaudy, covered in massive logos and sequins that made Xue Zhen’s eyes ache.

However, over half an hour had passed since the man called. He couldn’t delay any longer.

Xue Zhen knit his brows, picking through the racks until he pulled out an outfit. The top was a white shirt that was barely acceptable once he removed the overly “trendy” metal rings; the pants were black and free of strange patterns. Finally, he looked like a human being.

Before leaving, Xue Zhen tidied his hair in the mirror. As for the man’s instruction to “have someone fix him up”… Xue Zhen decided to treat those words as wind passing through his ears.

By the time he left, it was evening, and the sky was turning dark. Xue Zhen hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address the man had provided.

“To The Night Banquet.” The black-haired youth lowered his head, his long lashes casting shadows. “Please, make it fast.”

The middle-aged driver grunted, “You got it.” As he hit the gas, the driver glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of a snowy-white face.

The kid looked young. Like he was still in school. The driver pondered the rumors he’d heard about The Night Banquet and felt the urge to say something.

But a second later, Xue Zhen looked up, his gaze locking precisely with the driver’s in the mirror. His eyes were dark and watery, his cheeks still had a bit of baby fat, and while he looked well-behaved, he was entirely expressionless.

The driver swallowed his words. “Haha,” he bluffed, “we’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Xue Zhen paid, stepped out of the car, and gave the waiter the name of the man from the phone call.

“My brother is Tang Zhan,” Xue Zhen lifted his chin. “He told me to come.”

His voice was light and soft, his expression arrogant—the perfect picture of a bad-tempered, bossy little young master. Yet he was so beautiful that when he looked at people with his chin tilted up, his round eyes were startlingly bright.

The waiter beamed and bowed slightly. “Certainly. Please follow me.”

The Night Banquet sounded like a shady establishment, but the owner actually had excellent taste. Located in a bustling area, it offered a quiet sanctuary with a traditional Chinese-style interior. Copper wind chimes hung from the eaves, tinkling crisply in the breeze. An artificial stream ran through the entire building, carrying mountain spring water where several koi swam, occasionally splashing the clear surface.

The interior was even more exquisite, with corridors and greenery partitioning wide halls and private rooms. The waiter left him at a corner. Xue Zhen sent a message to Tang Zhan, telling him to come out and get him. After sending it, he turned around and lazily took in the view outside the corridor.

Soon, a young man in a wine-red suit walked out. He was about 185cm tall and fairly handsome, though his steps were a bit unsteady and he had dark circles under his eyes—clear signs of a body worn out by wine and debauchery.

“Tang Xue Zhen!”

Seeing the youth’s back, Tang Zhan—who had been waiting for a long time—lowered his voice in annoyance. “Why are you just getting here now?”

“Young Master Qi has already left!”

Tang Zhan was furious. He couldn’t control when Qi Suichuan came or went, and being there didn’t guarantee a meeting anyway. But despite his repeated urgings today, Tang Xue Zhen had acted like it was nothing, taking his sweet time.

Thinking of this useless stepbrother, Tang Zhan knit his brows. He had no good impression of this “drag-along” brought in by his father’s second marriage. But since his father had given instructions, Tang Zhan couldn’t say much. He simply looked down on the mother and son in his heart.

Hearing the voice behind him, Xue Zhen turned around. He scanned Tang Zhan’s face, which was flushed with anger, and spoke slowly: “Is that so? What a shame…”

Tang Zhan’s face turned even redder. The Tang family was respectable in City A, and as the eldest son, he had grown up surrounded by flattery. He had never encountered someone who talked back like this. He was about to lose it. He snorted coldly and reached out to grab Xue Zhen’s arm.

However, the moment he locked eyes with those pitch-black pupils, Tang Zhan froze involuntarily. His hand stopped in mid-air, and his speech became stilted.

“You, today…” Tang Zhan’s words tumbled over his tongue. “Why are you dressed like this?”

He remembered this cheap brother of his was obsessed with luxury goods; his taste was atrocious, and only his face was salvageable. Why was he dressed so… purely today?

Tang Zhan couldn’t help but look Xue Zhen up and down.

A well-fitting white shirt, buttoned to the second button, revealing deep collarbones and a slender neck. Mid-length black hair rested tamely on his shoulders. His cheeks were snowy white, his head tilted slightly, and his lashes fluttered. He looked incredibly delicate. The boy was like a stalk of fresh green bamboo, so tender you could squeeze water out of him.

Was Tang Xue Zhen always this beautiful?

The question surfaced in Tang Zhan’s mind, only to be suppressed. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Forget it, it’s fine that he left.”

Tang Zhan pointed toward the private room ahead. “Since Young Master Qi is gone, I’ll introduce you to the others.”

Xue Zhen nodded.

Tang Zhan coughed. “You look okay today. Keep it up in the future; don’t go putting those weird clothes on every day.”

“Mm.” Xue Zhen subtly dodged Tang Zhan’s reaching hand. “I know.”

Tang Zhan realized his behavior was a bit odd and fell silent. They walked down the corridor where few people were present. The floors were covered in thick, dark carpets with excellent soundproofing. Tang Zhan turned back to warn him: “The people in this room are all big names in the circle. You’d better watch yourself.”

“Answer whatever they ask you,” Tang Zhan looked Xue Zhen up and down. “They’ll definitely like you. Father will reward you when we get back.”

His words were ambiguous. He kept his voice low when saying “reward,” giving it a suggestive undertone.

Xue Zhen: “Oh.”

He acted as if he didn’t catch Tang Zhan’s subtext. Tang Zhan felt snubbed and shrugged his shoulders.

Xue Zhen ignored his rude “brother.” Only when Tang Zhan wasn’t looking did he extend a finger to flick down 886, who was angrily trying to “bite” the back of Tang Zhan’s head.

“Host!” 886 spun itself around. “What does he mean by that? Why aren’t you angry?”

Xue Zhen asked back, “Why should I be angry?”

886 froze in mid-air. The data it had received in its ten days of life wasn’t enough to answer that question. It simply felt this NPC was very strange, and the light-ball rolled around awkwardly.

Tang Zhan had reached the door and was about to turn the handle. The room was on the left side of the corridor, and the soft overhead lights weren’t enough to clearly illuminate this corner of the world.

“After all,” Xue Zhen said, half his face hidden in the shadows, “I’m just a cannon fodder that nobody likes.”