Quick Transmigration: I Was Cannon Fodder But Became the White Moonlight

The light fell on him, outlining his increasingly mature and sharp features.

He listened intently to the school leader's quiet introduction beside him, nodding slightly occasionally. His expression was somewhat unfamiliar to Chen Su, possessing the composure and aloofness of a business elite, but the unique coldness and a hint of unruliness between his brows remained unchanged.

It's really him!

Chen Su felt her hands suddenly begin to tremble uncontrollably, and the edges of the manuscript paper were pinched into deep creases.

She looked at him, at the person who had video chatted with her last night, said goodnight to her, and who had suddenly appeared here today, and her mind went blank.

"That bastard," she thought to herself.

That complete bastard.

How could he do this?

How could I not tell her?

How could we let her face such a situation without her knowing anything about it?

The host's voice continued, but she was already somewhat dazed.

The school leader delivered a speech, followed by a speech from a representative of the partner company.

When Chen Su saw that familiar figure, he calmly stood up, straightened the hem of his suit, and strode onto the stage.

His voice came through the microphone, clearly penetrating her ears.

She knew that voice all too well.

His voice was deep and steady, and each word was pronounced very clearly.

He spoke about the significance of cooperation, future plans, and the vision for talent development.

He spoke very well, clearly and concisely, and applause frequently erupted from the audience.

He had the air of a master strategist.

Chen Su leaned against the curtain, her legs trembling.

She listened to that voice, so familiar it was almost unbelievable, yet it felt so distant, so unreal.

After Shen Que finished speaking, it was her turn.

The host announced her name: "Next, please welcome Chen Su, an outstanding student representative, to the stage to speak."

Chen Su took a deep breath and pinched her palm hard.

The pain brought her to a slightly more awake state.

She walked onto the stage, her steps a little unsteady, but fortunately the podium blocked the view of the audience, so they couldn't see her trembling legs.

She stood behind the podium and adjusted the height of the microphone.

The light shone on her face, a little too brightly.

She raised her head and glanced down at the audience—in the very center of the first row, Shen Que was looking at her, his eyes calm, with a faint smile on his lips.

She quickly looked away and opened the manuscript.

The sound came through the microphone and was fairly steady.

She had already memorized the script and could recite it almost without looking at it.

She spoke about industry-academia-research collaboration from a student's perspective, her expectations for future laboratories, and the responsibilities of young students in technological innovation.

She spoke fluently.

Throughout the entire process, she could feel that gaze following her like a shadow, firmly locked onto her.

But she forced herself not to look at it or think about it, focusing only on the speech in front of her and the blurry outlines of the audience below.

That's it.

She bowed, and applause erupted from the audience.

She stepped off the stage, her legs still weak, but thankfully nothing went wrong.

Next comes the signing ceremony.

Representatives from both sides signed the contract, exchanged texts, shook hands, and took a group photo.

The flashbulbs went off everywhere.

During the group photo session, all teachers and student representatives involved in the project had to come on stage.

Chen Su was among them.

She stood in the back row, watching Shen Que, who was surrounded by people in the front row asking for photos.

He remained calm and composed, shaking hands, smiling, and taking photos with everyone, displaying the demeanor of a seasoned business elite.

She also had her phone in hand and joined the last line.

When it was her turn, Shen Que looked at her with a smile in his eyes that she recognized and that only she could understand.

"Chen," he began, his voice gentle, "how would you like to film this?"

Chen Su took a deep breath and held up her phone: "President Shen, I'll just take a selfie with my phone."

"it is good."

Shen Que cooperated by slightly turning his body towards her.

The two were very close. She could smell the faint scent of his perfume, a blend of cedar and amber, calm and warm.

"Chen's speech was excellent," Shen Que suddenly said, her voice not loud, but loud enough for her to hear. "It left a deep impression on me."

Chen Su's fingers trembled, and she almost dropped her phone.

She pressed the shutter button and took several photos in a row, then quickly stepped back and whispered, "Thank you, Mr. Shen."

Finally, there was a group photo.

Everyone, stand in your assigned positions.

Chen Su was standing in the back row, near the side. The moment the flash went off, Chen Su subconsciously looked in Shen Que's direction.

After the photos were taken, the crowd began to disperse.

Just as Chen Su was about to leave, he heard Shen Que say to his secretary, "Keep one negative."

She paused for a moment, then quickly walked out of the hall.

After the ceremony, Shen Que, along with school leaders and professors, moved to the conference room to refine the cooperation plan.

Chen Su returned to her dormitory, closed the door, leaned against the door panel, and let out a long breath.

Her hands were still trembling.

She was restless all afternoon.

As night fell and the city lights came on, her phone rang.

It is Shen Que.

She answered almost instantly.

His deep voice came from the other end: "Where are you?"

"dormitory."

"Come out. West school gate, 200 meters north, black Bentley."

Chen Su's heart skipped a beat.

Without asking any questions, she grabbed her coat, quickly said goodbye to her roommate, and ran out.

The campus at night is dimly lit by streetlights, and the autumn wind carries a chill.

She ran to the west gate of the school, headed north, and sure enough, saw a low-key black Bentley parked quietly under the shadow of the trees by the roadside.

As soon as she got close, the back door was opened from the inside.

The moment she bent down to crawl inside, a strong hand with distinct knuckles pulled her in.

The car door closed, shutting out the outside world.

The next second, a scorching breath hit her, and her lips were pressed tightly against someone's.

It was an aggressive, almost unbearably urgent kiss.

Shen Que gripped her waist with a rather strong hand, lifting her onto his lap.

His kiss was deep and urgent, like something that had been suppressed for too long and was finally exploding.

Chen Su was so overwhelmed by the kiss that she almost instinctively struggled and placed her hands on his firm chest.

But soon, that familiar warmth and scent shattered all her resistance. Her longing overflowed like a tidal wave. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and responded awkwardly yet passionately.

After an unknown amount of time, Shen Que finally stepped back slightly, his breathing becoming somewhat heavy.

The carriage was dimly lit, with only the dial emitting a faint glow that reflected in his deep-set eyes and exceptionally dark pupils, which were tinged with desire.

His breathing was rapid and hot as he kissed her from her lips to her chin and then to her neck.

She tilted her head back, her eyes slightly moist, whether from the intensity of the moment or something else.

She gently punched him in the chest.

"Shen Que".

"Hmm?" He grabbed her mischievous hand, kissed her knuckles, and stared at her intently.

Chen Su looked at him, her eyes red: "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? I almost lost my composure on stage today."

Shen Que chuckled softly, the sound particularly magnetic in the enclosed carriage.

He brushed his finger across the corner of her eye: "Hmm, I saw your legs were shaking."

He leaned closer, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, their breaths mingling.

"Bastard!" Chen Su was furious and wanted to punch him again.

Shen Que tightened his arms, pulling her closer into his embrace and letting her lean against his chest.

His chin rested on the top of her head, and his large hand gently patted her back soothingly.

"Mmm," he responded softly, his voice carrying a strange, almost indulgent tenderness. "I am."

The carriage fell silent, with only the sound of each other's breathing.

Chen Su leaned against him, listening to his steady heartbeat and smelling his familiar scent.

Occasionally, a car would drive by outside the window, its lights flashing by.

Time passes.

In a daze, Chen Su seemed to be pulled back to the villa on an afternoon many years ago.

She had also cursed him with tears in her eyes.

"You're a bad student."

What was his answer at that time?

"Yes, that's me."

Outside the car window, the city's neon lights flowed into blurry ribbons of light.

The chill of the autumn night was completely shut out; inside the car, there was only the real, regained warmth of embracing each other.

Chen Su closed her eyes, her cheek pressed against his warm, firm chest.

The long wait is over, and the wanderers have returned to port.

From now on, dawn and dusk, and the four seasons, will no longer need to be described through a screen.