All Chapters of (BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder.: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The conversation with Lin Meng happened in Huo Yan's study at seven in the morning, with the grey light coming in off the ocean and all of us exhausted in different ways.She came because I asked her to. She sat in the interrogation chair — across from Huo Yan's desk, in the position that had been mine so many times — and she sat there with the specific quality of someone who has been carrying something for a long time and has finally put it on a table.Huo Yan didn't rage. He didn't perform disappointment or professional offense. He asked questions. Precise, targeted, following the structure of what she told him with the efficiency of a man who had done this kind of strategic listening before and knew how to build a complete picture from pieces offered in the order they became available.She told him about the investor's name. About the initial approach — a producing credit, a financial stake, access to projects she wanted to make. About the conditions that came attached, which had s

Finding Chen Bo's moment to be introduced to Huo Yan properly required timing that the production schedule didn't naturally provide. Huo Yan's days were dense — setup to wrap, with the specific compression of a man who treated time as the most valuable finite resource and allocated it accordingly. Getting thirty uninterrupted minutes meant engineering the opportunity, and engineering it without making the engineering visible. I used a script consultation as the cover. A genuine one — I had notes on the third-act material that we needed to discuss anyway — and at the end of the session I said: "There's someone I'd like you to meet." Chen Bo was in the corridor. He came in when I gestured. Sat in the chair beside mine without ceremony. Looked at Huo Yan with the specific quality of someone who has been thinking about this meeting for a long time and has made their peace with it. Huo Yan looked at him. There was a moment where the quality of looking was simply two people taking each

I told Huo Yan something true on the evening of day thirty-six, sitting in his study with the amber light and the ocean sounds and the specific intimacy of a space that had become, over weeks, the place where real things got said.Not the full truth. Not yet. But more than I'd given him before."I need to tell you something about how I know what I know," I said.He looked up from his notes. Put them down. Gave me the full quality of his attention."The source I mentioned," I said. "The information about the investor's structure, the timeline, the shape of what's coming. Part of it came from Chen Bo. Part of it came from someone I haven't identified yet. But part of it—" I paused. "Part of it came from something internal. Something I have access to that I haven't explained."He watched me. Said nothing."When I arrived here," I said, "I brought something with me. A kind of awareness of how things are structured. How the situation is arranged. I can't always access it clearly, and it's

The morning arrived the way mornings arrived after irreversible things — not gently, not with the mercy of gradual light, but all at once, the first pale grey coming through the stage's high windows and finding us still there on the floor, tangled in the blankets that had never been meant for this. I woke before he did. This was unusual enough to note. Huo Yan was always the first one up, always already in whatever room he needed to be in before anyone else arrived. But this morning he was asleep beside me with the specific quality of someone who had finally, completely let go — his breathing even, his face in the grey morning light stripped of every layer of management, just a person, just a man, just him. I lay still and looked at him for a moment. Seven weeks. Seven weeks of cataloguing the director's expression and the other expression and the space between them. Seven weeks of five-second moments and private footage and notes on doorsteps and the specific discipline of not

Qin Shu came back on a Wednesday, three weeks before the investor's anticipated move, and this time he came with a lawyer and a document. The document claimed a prior, undissolved bond between himself and the original Zhan. It was fabricated. I knew it was fabricated because the bond had never been formalized — the original Zhan's body memory carried no trace of it, no ceremony, no documentation, no biological weight of a completed bond. What existed was a history of coercive proximity and manipulation designed to look like intimacy, which was a different thing entirely and required expensive lawyers to distinguish clearly in a legal context. Huo Yan's legal team had the response filed before noon. But Qin Shu hadn't come for the legal outcome. He'd come for the disruption. For the press that arrived within an hour — cameras at the estate's gate, questions shouted over the fence line, the specific media appetite for the story of an Omega with a complicated history and an Alpha