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

When she returned to the main hall, Chen Su's steps were noticeably unsteady, her makeup seemed to have been smudged by moisture, and her eyes and the tip of her nose were unnaturally red.

Lu Yu was talking quietly with an elderly political figure when he caught a glimpse of her appearance out of the corner of his eye, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He politely apologized to her and then walked straight toward her.

"What's wrong?" He supported her, his gaze lingering on her face.

Chen Su instinctively hugged his arm, leaning most of her weight against him. Her voice was trembling with tears and grievance as she whispered, "My ankle... I twisted it by accident, it hurts so much..."

Upon hearing this, Lu Yu immediately squatted down and carefully examined her slender ankles.

Sure enough, the area near the foot bone was slightly red and swollen, which looked particularly striking against the backdrop of fair skin.

He reached out and gently touched her, and Chen Su immediately hissed and gasped, tears welling up in her eyes again.

It was a real twist, and the force was just right—enough to cause real pain and swelling, but not enough to actually break a bone.

His eyes darkened, and without saying anything more, he stood up and gestured for his assistant, who was not far away, to come over. He gave a few quick instructions in a low voice, and then picked Chen Su up in his arms.

He walked steadily through the reception area, left the venue, and got into the car that was waiting outside.

The car drove directly to a nearby private hospital.

In the emergency room, after a thorough examination, the doctor concluded: "Acute ankle sprain with some ligament strain, not too serious. Apply cold compresses for 24 hours, reduce walking, and the swelling will subside quickly."

Chen Su remained nestled in Lu Yuze's arms, her face buried in his chest, her shoulders trembling slightly, tears streaming silently down her face.

They looked so pitiful.

While listening to the doctor's instructions, Lu Yu gently wiped away her tears with his fingertips, his movements showing an unusual patience. He even chuckled softly, "Why are you crying so hard? Hmm? You're so delicate."

Chen Su just shook her head, buried her face even deeper, and her shoulders trembled.

When they returned to Yulan that evening, Lu Yu personally applied an ice pack to her ankle, being very careful.

Before bed, he turned off the lights, pulled her into his arms in the darkness, gently kissed her forehead, wrapped his arms around her waist, and whispered, "Sleep."

Chen Su closed her eyes, nestled against him, her breathing gradually becoming steady, as if she had fallen asleep.

Only she knew that her hands, hidden under the covers, had already been deeply marked by her own fingernails digging into her palms.

The ankle sprain was intentional on her part.

After separating from Lu Yichuan in the storage room, she twisted her ankle in the deserted fire escape.

Her red eyes and unstoppable tears were inexplicable unless she was truly injured.

The pain was real, but it paled in comparison to the fear in her heart and the resolute determination to take that step.

_

For Chen Su, the following week felt like being fried in a scorching oil pan.

She dared not, and could not, take the initiative to contact Lu Yichuan; she could only wait passively, her heart burning with anxiety.

This waiting itself is a form of torture.

During the day, she forces herself to immerse herself in trivial, time-killing activities.

She went to the Municipal Museum of Art to see an obscure and difficult-to-understand contemporary art exhibition. Standing in front of those distorted and abstract lines and violently conflicting blocks of color, her gaze was unfocused, her eyes were vacant, and her thoughts had already drifted away to who-knows-where.

She even took the initiative to ask to learn flower arranging, and invited a teacher to her home. She would sit there for an entire afternoon, mechanically manipulating the delicate flower branches, pruning and arranging them, but the finished works always revealed a kind of absent-minded stiffness.

That evening at Yulan, as Lu Yuze embraced and kissed her, she could clearly feel his gaze falling on her face—deep, probing, as if carrying an invisible penetrating force.

Whenever this happens, she forces herself to hug him tighter, burying her face deep in his firm chest, using a dependent posture to conceal any possible betrayal in her eyes or expression.

She's gambling.

Even if Lu Yuze has an astonishing desire for control and extraordinary methods, he might not be able to see through every wildly growing thought in her heart.

She was gambling too.

She was betting on whether Lu Yichuan, the second young master of the Lu family who had always been at odds with her since childhood and argued with her whenever they met, would actually risk defying his terrifying older brother and help her.

Just when Chen Su felt she was about to be driven mad by this endless waiting and inner fear, a turning point quietly arrived.

One weekend afternoon, she appeared at a members-only bookstore in the city center as usual.

The environment here is quiet and peaceful, and the coffee area usually only has a few customers.

She ordered a coffee, sat down in a corner by the window, and opened a novel in front of her that she couldn't possibly read.

A young girl in the bookstore's uniform walked over carrying a tray.

The girl wore ordinary black-rimmed glasses, had her hair tied in a simple ponytail, and had an unremarkable appearance.

She skillfully placed a cup of coffee in front of Chen Su.

"Miss, your macchiato."

Chen Su was stunned for a moment; she had clearly ordered a mocha.

She subconsciously looked up, about to correct her, but met the girl's eyes, which blinked rapidly behind her glasses.

His gaze was incredibly fast, with a hint of strangeness.

The girl put down her coffee cup the instant she was taking back the tray.

The movement naturally knocked a small leather bookmark, commonly used in bookstores, off the edge of the tray. The bookmark fell silently onto the pages of Chen Su's open book, just enough to cover a few lines of text.

After doing all this, the girl didn't look at Chen Su again, turned around with a calm expression, and walked towards another table of guests.

Chen Su's heart skipped a beat for a moment, then began to pound wildly against his chest.

She forced herself to remain calm, held her breath, and with slightly trembling fingertips, picked up the thin piece of paper.

On the back of the bookmark, in small, messy handwriting written in black ballpoint pen, is an address.

The address was in a neighborhood she had never heard of before.

Although the handwriting is messy, the meaning is clear:

[Tomorrow morning at 9 AM, alone. No waiting for latecomers.]

No signature.

But Chen Su knew.

This must be Lu Yichuan's doing.

A wave of dizziness, a mixture of ecstasy, fear, and uncertainty, surged through her, leaving her hands and feet feeling numb.

She quickly slipped the bookmark into the pages and then closed the book.

The cool touch on her fingertips and the rough texture of the cover gave her a slight sense of realism.

Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Alone.

This means she has to find a way to get rid of the driver who is always by her side and almost never leaves her side.

That driver was professional, vigilant, and absolutely loyal.

He would usually just wait quietly in the parking lot or a designated location, but he would never let her out of his sight for more than half an hour, and he was always ready to report her whereabouts to Lu Yuze.

What should I do?

Her brain was working at lightning speed.

We mustn't alert them, we mustn't arouse any suspicion...

Her gaze drifted through the clean glass windows of the bookstore to the bustling commercial street outside.

Across the street, there happened to be a high-end beauty spa center that she frequented, which operated on a strict reservation and membership system, ensuring excellent privacy.

A thought suddenly flashed through her mind.

_

The next morning, Chen Su, as usual, had her driver take her to the entrance of the beauty salon.

"I've booked a full-body treatment and hair treatment today, it might take a while, probably... four or five hours."

Before getting out of the car, she spoke to the driver in the driver's seat, her tone normal, but with a hint of impatience and helplessness about the long wait.

The driver nodded respectfully and smoothly drove the car into the store's private underground parking lot. "Okay, miss. Let me know when you're done, and I'll come pick you up."

Chen Su hummed in agreement, carrying the handbag containing basic toiletries and a book for leisure reading.

She walked gracefully and calmly into the shop, which was filled with the aroma of essential oils, soft lighting, and soothing music.

She is a top VIP client here, with her own private treatment room and a designated senior beauty technician.

Upon entering the familiar room, she didn't immediately change clothes to prepare for the treatment. Instead, she gave her personal beauty consultant, Emma, ​​a slightly apologetic smile.

"Emma, ​​I'm sorry, I suddenly remembered that I made an appointment with a friend to have dim sum nearby, I almost forgot."

Her tone was natural, tinged with annoyance, "The nursing care... could it be postponed by an hour? I'll be back soon, it won't take too long."

Emma had no suspicions. This Ms. Chen was always one of the most generous and easy-going customers in the store, so it was perfectly normal for her to adjust her schedule occasionally.

She smiled and agreed, "Of course, Ms. Chen. Your room will be reserved for you, and we can begin anytime."

Chen Su thanked him.

She did not leave through the main entrance used by guests.

The driver may still be waiting nearby, or there may be surveillance cameras.

She navigated the staff passageway in the spa's back-of-house area with practiced ease; this area, usually used only by staff, connected to the goods entrance and exit in the back alley.

She had walked past this exit once by chance and remembered it.

She walked quickly to the end of the passage and pushed open a metal door marked "Emergency Exit".

Outside the door was a quiet, narrow alleyway, with some crates piled up. The air was cool and filled with a faint, damp smell.

Chen Su, however, felt that the air was incredibly fresh, carrying the scent of freedom.

She didn't dare linger and quickly walked out of the alley and onto another adjacent side street.

Luckily, a taxi with its "vacant" light on happened to drive by.

She practically lunged forward and stopped the car.

As she opened the car door and sat in the back seat, her voice trembled slightly as she gave the address on the bookmark.

As the car started and drove away from the bustling commercial district, the scenery outside the window rushed past, gradually changing from gleaming glass curtain walls and skyscrapers to slightly old and low-rise residential buildings, narrow streets, and rows of shop signs. The air seemed to carry a touch more of the everyday life and vibrancy of the city.

Chen Su gripped the strap of her handbag tightly, her fingernails digging deep into the leather.

She kept looking back, peering nervously through the rear window to make sure no suspicious vehicles were following her.

Every time a car approached from behind, every sudden honking of a car horn sent chills down her spine and made her heart pound.

The address is in a typical residential area built in the 1980s and 1990s.

A dusty, old-fashioned six-story residential building without an elevator.

The hallway was dimly lit, with only a few skylights letting in some light. The air was filled with the smell of cooking oil, damp mold, and an indescribable sense of daily life.

Following the instructions on the note, Chen Su held her breath and carefully walked up the cement steps, one step at a time.

Fourth floor.

Finally, she stopped in front of house number 402.

A dark green iron gate with peeling paint was tightly closed, and faded Spring Festival couplets were pasted on the door.

My heart was pounding like a drum.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.