A Short-Lived Cannon Fodder Alpha Just Wants to Be a Salted Fish - Chapter 22

“Can you still smell the pheromones?”

Chu Yihan’s question pulled Wen Yuan’s attention back. She snapped the cap back onto the scent blocker, handed it back to Chu Yihan, and replied, “I can’t smell them anymore. How do you feel?”

“Cool and refreshing.” Chu Yihan looked at the instructions on the bottle while reaching back to touch her gland with her other hand. “I feel a bit insecure with the gland exposed like this. I shouldn’t have tied my hair up.”

An Omega’s gland is like a “sacred territory” to an Alpha—extremely tempting. There are often arrogant Alphas online who claim that an Omega leaving their gland exposed is a deliberate provocation.

Because of that sentence, Wen Yuan’s gaze was drawn back to Chu Yihan’s gland. Perhaps because they had shared a temporary mark once, Wen Yuan’s teeth felt a bit “itchy” every time she saw it. Moreover, the thought of Chu Yihan’s gland being seen by other Alphas once they stepped outside made her feel a spark of annoyance.

This damn possessiveness.

Wen Yuan licked the back of her teeth, suppressing all her messy emotions. She pulled a scent-blocking patch from her bag, peeled off the backing, and applied it to Chu Yihan’s gland. She then lightly flicked the ribbon on Chu Yihan’s hair bun. “The buns look great today. Do you feel secure now?”

“Mm.”

Chu Yihan lowered her head, her lips curving into a small smile where Wen Yuan couldn’t see.

After leaving the stall, they walked through the pedestrian street to Building B and took the elevator to the cinema on the fourth floor.

The theater was packed. Wen Yuan’s seats were in a secluded corner in the back row. Next to them was a young couple; the girl seemed to have picked the movie, while the boy looked disinterested and a bit grumpy. “I can’t believe we’re watching a cartoon on Qixi.”

The girl corrected him: “It’s an anime!”

“What’s the difference?”

Wen Yuan tuned out their childish bickering. She tilted her head close to Chu Yihan and whispered, “What is this movie mainly about?”

The warm breath brushed past her ear. Chu Yihan’s fingers curled as she steadied her mind to explain: “It’s about a male and female lead who fall in love. The boy becomes a vegetable to save the girl. To wake him up, the girl continuously enters his conscious world to get to know him again, helping him remember her and awakening his will to live.”

Wen Yuan let out a long “Oh” of realization.

Just then, the lights dimmed, and the film began to play. The art style of the anime was beautiful; many scenes could serve as wallpapers. Because it involved jumping into a conscious world, the logic was non-linear, using flashbacks for plot twists. Wen Yuan was glad she had asked Chu Yihan beforehand, otherwise, she might have struggled to follow the logic.

At the end of the film, the male lead finally woke up. After undergoing treatment and being discharged, he met the female lead under falling cherry blossoms. They stared at each other for a long time before running into each other’s arms. The boy said a specific line—something he had said to her in the final layer of the conscious world, but never in the real world before.

This scene instantly broke the defenses of the more emotional viewers; several people began to sob. Wen Yuan was more rational and didn’t cry easily; though moved, her reaction was mild. She instinctively turned her head to see Chu Yihan’s reaction.

Chu Yihan was looking up at the screen. The credits showed the happy, humorous daily lives of the couple, drawing laughter from the audience. However, Wen Yuan saw tears hanging from Chu Yihan’s long lashes, and her face remained pale.

She handed a tissue to Chu Yihan, her voice softening: “Don’t be sad.”

Chu Yihan froze for a moment before taking the tissue. She bit her lip and managed a small, forced smile, explaining in a low voice, “I’m not sad… I just… felt a lot of empathy.”

As she spoke, Chu Yihan turned her head to look at her. The lighting was weak, and in the dim environment, Wen Yuan couldn’t distinguish the emotions swirling in those watery eyes. But for a second, it felt like being pricked by a needle.

It hurt a little.

Wen Yuan’s mind went blank. She didn’t know what to say to comfort her, but she suddenly really wanted to pat her head.

The ending theme began to play. The house lights gradually came up, and people started leaving. Wen Yuan stood up and, following her heart, ruffled Chu Yihan’s hair. “Want some ice cream?”

“Let’s go ’empathize’ with some ice cream. Something sweet.”

Can “empathy” be used like that? Chu Yihan didn’t want to correct her. She watched her own reflection in Wen Yuan’s eyes and felt the warmth of Wen Yuan’s palm. The gentle touch made her heart beat like a drum. The melancholy from the movie was smoothed over by those two sentences. Chu Yihan nodded heavily: “Okay.”

Stepping out of the theater, Chu Yihan suddenly felt unwell, her stomach churning. Wen Yuan noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Chu Yihan clutched her chest, her brow furrowed as she swallowed hard to suppress the sensation. “I… I feel like I might throw up.”

Wen Yuan’s brow knit. she quickly supported Chu Yihan and headed for the restroom. An Alpha cannot enter the Omega-only restroom, and fearing Chu Yihan would be embarrassed, Wen Yuan stuffed a pack of tissues into her small bag. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Chu Yihan entered the restroom. Wen Yuan stood outside and looked around, her gaze settling on the snack bar. She hurried over. After waiting in line for the popcorn-buyers, she finally got a bottle of mineral water. When she returned to the restroom door, Chu Yihan was just coming out.

Her eyes were red and her brow was still tight, but her complexion had improved slightly.

“Did you throw up? Do you feel better?” Wen Yuan asked with concern.

Chu Yihan shook her head and then nodded. “I didn’t throw up, but I feel a bit better.”

Wen Yuan helped her sit in the waiting area, unscrewed the water, and handed it to her. “Have some water.” Seeing how pale her face and lips were, Wen Yuan felt uneasy. “Why the sudden nausea? Should we go to the hospital?”

Chu Yihan stared at the water for two seconds, took it slowly, and sipped. She gripped the bottle, her fingertips rubbing the plastic. “No need for a hospital. I bumped into many people just now; there were probably Alphas among them. It’s just a normal rejection reaction.”

Severe Dysfunctional Alpha Rejection Disorder can cause vomiting. They were near a busy walkway where many people were passing.

Wen Yuan’s frown didn’t relax; it deepened. “It was my oversight. I chose a bad spot.”

The self-blame and guilt in her tone made Chu Yihan’s heart twinge. She said hurriedly, “No, no! Actually, this disorder is fine as long as there’s no physical contact. It’s mainly my fault for being vain today—my dress was too short. I just won’t wear it like this next time.”

Wen Yuan was amused by her calling herself vain, and her expression softened. “It looks great. Next time, I’ll bring a sun-protection jacket to cover you.”

Chu Yihan stared at her, startled and delighted, her eyes clear and brimming with tenderness. Wen Yuan’s breath hitched. After a brief gaze, Chu Yihan looked away at her water bottle. The sloshing water inside was just like her own unsettled heart.

Chu Yihan took two more sips to break the silence. “Let’s go get that ice cream.”

“Ice cream is too cold,” Wen Yuan worried the cold would upset her stomach after the nausea.

Chu Yihan caught her meaning and let out a disappointed “Ah.” After two seconds, she pleaded in a tiny voice: “Just one.”

Wen Yuan: “Don’t tell me you wanted two?”

Chu Yihan wouldn’t look at her, twisting the bottle cap. Her voice was like the buzz of a mosquito: “We can share one. I’ll just have one taste.”

Since she had compromised this much, Wen Yuan thought it over. “Fine. Just one bite.”

Chu Yihan hummed in agreement, tucking a stray hair behind her ear to hide her reddening ears.

There was a trendy ice cream shop on the pedestrian street famous for releasing new flavors every two months. For Qixi, they had a “Mystery Flavor” that could only be obtained by solving a riddle; otherwise, you could only buy the original flavor.

Chu Yihan was interested. “Can I try?” Wen Yuan had no preference and agreed.

The cashier handed a slip of paper to Chu Yihan. Wen Yuan leaned in to look; it was just a single formula: r = a(1 – sin theta).

“Oh,” Wen Yuan said. “Descartes’ Heart Formula.” She had expected something harder.

“Mm. Do you know how to solve it?”

“It’s just a coordinate heart graph.”

Chu Yihan twirled the pen and handed it to Wen Yuan. “You want to try?”

Underestimating me? Wen Yuan took the pen, used a brochure on the table as a ruler, and carefully drew the axes. She plotted the points and drew a fairly standard heart. Satisfied, she pushed the paper toward Chu Yihan, proudly waiting for praise.

“It looks great.” Chu Yihan picked up the paper and asked the cashier, “Can I keep this?”

“Of course, it’s drawn very well,” the cashier said. “Congratulations, you’ve earned the choice of Mystery Flavor. Would you like the Qixi Exclusive or another flavor?”

“One Exclusive, please.” Wen Yuan scanned the code to pay.

Chu Yihan looked at the drawing and asked softly, “Can you give it to me?”

Even though Wen Yuan thought it was just a decent drawing, she felt a bit embarrassed that Chu Yihan wanted it. “Sure, but what do you want it for?”

“A souvenir.” Chu Yihan carefully tucked the paper into her bag. “It’s a highlight moment for classmate Wen’s problem-solving.”

Wen Yuan caught the teasing tone and gave a light huff. Like attracts like; the little lamb is getting more and more mischievous.

The ice cream was beautiful—a swirl of white on one side and pink-purple on the other, topped with small pink heart-shaped cookies. Wen Yuan handed it to Chu Yihan, who didn’t take it yet; she first snapped a photo with her phone.

The cashier explained: “The white side is Gardenia flavor, and the other side is Raspberry. It signifies the sweet and sour love of summer.”

Gardenia flavor?

Wen Yuan held the ice cream out to Chu Yihan again. “Even if it’s ‘your’ scent, don’t be greedy. Don’t eat it all, or your stomach might hurt.”

Is she giving it all to me? Chu Yihan blinked. “Aren’t you having any?”

Wen Yuan shook her head. “I’m not really into sweets. I didn’t actually intend for you to only have one bite. But don’t overdo it; give it back to me if you can’t finish.”

Chu Yihan bit her lip and didn’t take it. “You have the first bite.”

Since she wouldn’t budge, Wen Yuan relented and took a lick off the very top.

“Is it good?” Chu Yihan asked.

The sweetness of the gardenia mixed with the tartness of the raspberry was delicious. Wen Yuan shifted her gaze and, imitating how Chu Yihan had described the grass-scented blocker earlier, said: “It’s a bit lighter than your actual scent.”

Chu Yihan: “…”

Wen Yuan let out a soft laugh and held the ice cream out. “Try it yourself?”

Chu Yihan lowered her head and took a lick from the spot Wen Yuan had just tasted. The white side of the ice cream faced Wen Yuan, creating a sharp contrast with Chu Yihan’s red tongue.

The evening breeze blew the ribbons on Chu Yihan’s hair buns, tracing a soft arc in the air. A faint sweet fragrance lingered—like ripples on a lake, or a hidden undercurrent surging beneath the surface.