A Short-Lived Cannon Fodder Alpha Just Wants to Be a Salted Fish - Chapter 25

Wen Yuan had thought about going to a hotel, but her ID card was left in her dorm drawer. Shi Ran was at her grandmother’s house in Haicheng, so crashing there for the night wasn’t an option either.

After weighing her choices, it seemed her only option was to borrow a bed at Chu Yihan’s place for a night.

Even though Wen Yuan was an adult at heart, the thought of facing a classmate’s elders still made her a bit nervous. She spent the entire drive feeling apprehensive, pondering how to act like a “well-behaved kid.” However, when they reached their destination, she was stunned to find that Chu Yihan had driven her into the residential complex right next to the school.

“You moved?”

Wen Yuan gaped. This complex was uniquely situated: South of the High School, North of the University, West of the Primary School, and East of the wet market. Its location was peerless, the listings were scarce, and because the facilities were excellent, prices were sky-high. To buy a place here, money wasn’t enough; you needed connections.

“No,” Chu Yihan parked the car, got out, and opened the trunk. “I wanted to live in the dorms, but my grandfather wouldn’t let me. So he bought an apartment here, saying I can stay here even if I go to Ningcheng University later.”

It was partly due to her Alpha Rejection Disorder and partly because her grandfather couldn’t bear the thought of his granddaughter squeezing into a tiny room with others. When he heard she wanted to board, he refused outright, but unable to withstand her pestering, he simply bought a house—specifically, a detached small villa.

Wen Yuan clicked her tongue as she picked up a shopping bag. Following Chu Yihan from the front yard to the door, she asked, “Why did you suddenly want to live in the dorms anyway?”

“I heard you and Shi Ran talking about it, and it sounded tempting.” Chu Yihan pressed the code on the smart lock.

Wen Yuan teased her, “So the independent Academic God follows trends too?”

Chu Yihan smiled, pushing the door open in self-defense. “It’s convenient; saves a lot of commuting time.”

Wen Yuan peeked around from behind her. “Where are your mom and step-dad?” The house looked like it had five rooms—two upstairs and two downstairs—but it seemed empty.

“I live here alone.” After switching to slippers, Chu Yihan opened the shoe cabinet. “Which pair do you want? They’re all new.”

The top shelf held a neat row of slippers. Wen Yuan chose a pair that was the same style as Chu Yihan’s but a different color. The corners of Chu Yihan’s lips curved slightly as she pulled them out.

“Do they fit?”

The slippers fit surprisingly well and had a cute design with two little devil horns. Wen Yuan nodded and leaned closer to Chu Yihan to snap a photo of their feet. Chu Yihan lowered her eyes, her gaze tracing their adjacent feet, a soft arc of pleasure appearing at the corners of her eyes.

After neatly placing her canvas shoes aside, Wen Yuan followed Chu Yihan into the house, curiously taking in the surroundings. The decor was modern and minimalist—clean and elegant.

Chu Yihan helped Wen Yuan place her bags on a chair by the table and found the remote to turn on the AC. “Do you want some juice?”

With no elders around, Wen Yuan relaxed significantly. No longer feeling like a guest, she nodded like a little chick pecking grain. “Mm-hmm! Yes, and cold would be even better…”

Chu Yihan’s eyes crinkled. “Then come with me to get it. You can pick your juice and tour the house while we’re at it.”

Wen Yuan followed immediately. After grabbing ice-cold juice, Chu Yihan gave her a quick tour: two bedrooms upstairs, and downstairs a soundproofed room with a piano, a study, and an art studio.

Wen Yuan couldn’t help but marvel, “You’re so multi-talented.”

Chu Yihan gave a bashful smile and led her from the study into the studio. Two easels stood there, covered with cloths, and the walls were adorned with paintings—landscapes and pets. There were realistic paintings of a Golden Shaded cat and a Corgi. They were so lifelike that Wen Yuan felt a pang of familiarity. Before transmigrating, she had a Golden Shaded and a Corgi too; she wondered how the little guys were doing after her death.

“Are these yours?” Wen Yuan asked.

Chu Yihan lowered her gaze. “I had them a long, long time ago. They’re no longer here.”

The atmosphere grew somber. Sensing Wen Yuan wanted to comfort her but didn’t know how, Chu Yihan said, “Let’s not talk about that. Let me show you something else.”

She lifted the cover of one of the easels, revealing a fluffy little bird.

Wen Yuan was delighted. “It looks just like the wood carving you gave me.”

Chu Yihan explained, “I painted it first, then had a woodcarver use it as a reference.”

Wen Yuan loved the painting. After getting Chu Yihan’s permission, she took a photo and set it as her WeChat profile picture. “One of a kind. Isn’t it cool?”

Chu Yihan’s lips curved into a joyful arc, and she gave a firm “Mm.”

Exiting the studio, Chu Yihan asked casually, “Do you want to play games on the computer in the study or watch TV in the living room?”

Wen Yuan answered without hesitation, “Watch TV with you.”

Chu Yihan froze for a second, then her smile widened. She turned on the TV, showed Wen Yuan the buttons, and handed her the remote. “Watch whatever you like. I’ll go get some snacks.”

There hadn’t been any particularly good dramas lately, and the variety shows were bland. Wen Yuan sat on the sofa, propping her chin in her hand, idly flicking through channels with zero interest.

When Chu Yihan returned from the kitchen with a bowl of washed green grapes, she saw this listless scene. “Nothing good?”

Wen Yuan hummed. “Is there something you want to watch?”

Chu Yihan set the bowl on the coffee table and sat next to Wen Yuan, about half an arm’s length away. “There’s a movie I really want to see, but… I’m a bit scared.”

Scared?

Wen Yuan thought of a Thai horror movie that had been trending on social media lately—it was said to be terrifying. She had wanted to see it, but the nine-yuan rental fee made her stingy heart hesitate.

She mentioned the name of the movie, and Chu Yihan’s eyes lit up. She nodded twice. “Are you scared?”

Wen Yuan turned her head and met Chu Yihan’s expectant eyes, reading the “I need your protection” signal loud and clear. An Alpha’s protective instinct toward an Omega surged into her brain, and Wen Yuan shook her head.

Chu Yihan happily took the remote and pulled up the movie. Wen Yuan noticed the words “Already Purchased” under the description. “You already bought it.”

“Yeah. But I never dared to watch it,” Chu Yihan requested. “Can you help me close the curtains?”

“Oh, sure.”

As Wen Yuan stood up to walk to the window, Chu Yihan took advantage of her back being turned to drag the progress bar from the far right back to the beginning.

Once the curtains were drawn, the room dimmed significantly. Wen Yuan sat back down, a bit further away than before. Chu Yihan grabbed a throw pillow, gave one to Wen Yuan, and naturally sat a bit closer.

The movie opening was eerie, the atmosphere of dread built to the extreme. The gloomy filters, the jumpy actors, and the spine-chilling background music were a constant assault on the nerves. Wen Yuan sat upright, clutching her pillow. She kept her lips pressed tight, afraid she might accidentally scream for her mother at any moment.

Even as someone relatively brave, she found it frightening. She couldn’t imagine how someone as “timid” as Chu Yihan was faring. Wen Yuan stole a glance at her. The light was dim, but she could see the pillow in Chu Yihan’s arms was being squeezed out of shape.

When an Omega is scared, an Alpha’s instinct is to protect—especially one they’ve marked before. Wen Yuan scooted over, sitting closer to Chu Yihan.

Chu Yihan caught the small movement out of the corner of her eye. She buried half her face in the pillow, faking fear to hide her secret joy.

At the climax of the plot, a ghost suddenly lunged out of the TV screen. The shocking imagery finally snapped Wen Yuan’s taut nerves. But before she could scream, a loud “Ah!” from beside her filled her ears, followed by warm arms wrapping tightly around hers.

The elegant fragrance of the Omega swirled at the tip of her nose. Because they were holding so tight and both wearing thin short sleeves, Wen Yuan could clearly feel the soft, warm curves pressed against her arm.

Her heart—whether from fright or something else—was thumping wildly. Wen Yuan’s reflex was to pull her arm away, but as soon as she moved, Chu Yihan squeezed tighter.

Wen Yuan no longer had the mental capacity to follow the movie. All her attention was drawn to Chu Yihan, who was half-shrunk into her side, trembling. The girl was terrified, yet she kept peeking at the TV, only to shrink back behind Wen Yuan two seconds later.

Pitiable and cute.

Wen Yuan’s lips curved slightly. She let Chu Yihan cling to her and used her other hand to loosely shield Chu Yihan’s eyes, her voice softening instinctively. “The ghost is still there. Don’t look.”

Chu Yihan turned her head and buried her face against the back of Wen Yuan’s shoulder, inhaling the comforting pheromones. Where Wen Yuan couldn’t see, her long lashes drooped, and her fearful expression slowly dissolved. She immersed herself almost greedily in the warm, fresh scent.

When the ghost’s scene ended, Wen Yuan lowered her hand. “Alright, it’s safe now.”

Chu Yihan tilted her head slightly, peeking warily at the TV, then looked up at Wen Yuan. Their eyes met, and the warmth where their arms touched seemed to spread. Both were dazed for a moment.

The next second, Chu Yihan was the first to snap out of it, releasing Wen Yuan’s arm. “Sorry, I was just too scared.”

The arm that had been held suddenly felt light. The residual warmth was swept away by the AC breeze, leaving a sense of loss.

“If you’re so scared, why watch horror movies?” Wen Yuan stretched her fingers and adjusted her posture; she had been stiff for too long.

Chu Yihan hugged her pillow, her voice muffled. “Mm. I’m scared, but I want to watch anyway.”

Wen Yuan glanced at her, let out a soft laugh, and teased, “Just like your gaming.”

There was a period where Chu Yihan played games with her and Shi Ran frequently. The brilliant Academic God seemed to have zero talent for gaming, moving like an NPC. At the time, Chu Yihan had said she was “trash but loved to play.”

“I’m actually okay at it now,” Chu Yihan defended herself in a small voice. “I’ve practiced the controls.”

Wen Yuan gave a long, doubtful “Mm.”

Seeing the disbelief on her face, Chu Yihan emphasized, “Really. If you don’t believe me, I’ll carry you to a win (eat chicken).”

“Not watching the ghost movie anymore?” Wen Yuan asked.

Chu Yihan countered, “Do you want to watch it?”

Just as she spoke, the ghost appeared on screen again. Wen Yuan’s scalp tingled. Looking at Chu Yihan hiding behind the pillow, Wen Yuan grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “Let’s not.”

Chu Yihan got up to open the curtains. As light flooded the room, the terrifying atmosphere dissipated.

Wen Yuan sighed. “We really were looking for trouble.”

“My mistake. I overestimated my courage.” Chu Yihan sat back on the sofa, clutching the pillow again. She peeked out from behind it, her eyelashes fluttering—pitiable yet lively.

Wen Yuan slowly looked away, her hand moving to the back of her neck. She felt her gland throb slightly.

“I’ll carry you in the game,” Chu Yihan added.

Sensing her lack of confidence, Wen Yuan dropped her hand, a smile touching her lips. “I’ll wait and see.”

One minute later: died on landing without finding a gun.

They stared at each other for a moment. Chu Yihan’s eyes looked extremely pitiable. Wen Yuan comforted her, “Take me to eat something else instead. I’m hungry.”

It had started raining while they were playing. Chu Yihan pulled up a delivery app. “There’s a Spicy Crab place nearby that’s delicious. Take a look.”

The reviews and photos looked great. Wen Yuan loved spicy food, so she had no objections. She saw Chu Yihan about to order a large spicy crab and suggested, “A small one is enough, then get a small order of steamed crab too.”

Chu Yihan blinked. Wen Yuan explained, “I noticed you didn’t put a single drop of chili in your wontons at lunch.”

Chu Yihan stared at her for a long time. Wen Yuan was busy with her phone and didn’t notice the surprise overflowing in the other’s eyes.

“I can actually eat a little bit of spicy food.”

“Mm-hmm, I already ordered.” Wen Yuan waved her phone. While Chu Yihan was dazed, Wen Yuan had already searched for the shop and placed the order.

Chu Yihan bit her lip, a bright light dancing in her eyes. She quickly lowered her head, her fingers tapping randomly on the screen as she remembered what she was supposed to do. “I’ll transfer the money to you.”

“No need,” Wen Yuan said. “You’re letting me stay over, so I’m treating you to dinner. It’s even.”

Chu Yihan suddenly stood up. “Oh! The bed hasn’t been made yet.”

“I’ll help.” Wen Yuan followed her.

Near the bedroom door, Chu Yihan asked, “Are you sleeping in the guest room… or with me?”

The question was a bit abrupt and technically redundant—Alphas and Omegas are different; they shouldn’t sleep together.

Wen Yuan opened her mouth to speak, but then she thought of the horror movie and Chu Yihan asking earlier if she was afraid to sleep alone in the dorms. “Are you afraid to sleep alone?”

Chu Yihan’s hand paused on the door handle. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. “A little. Can I sleep with you?”

“I’m an Alpha.” Wen Yuan felt it necessary to remind her. “An Alpha and an Omega sleeping together… isn’t appropriate.”

“But you’re a girl too.” Chu Yihan opened the door and stood aside, looking at Wen Yuan, then lowered her head and twisted her fingers. “Besides, I trust you. You’re so ‘upright,’ sleeping for a night shouldn’t matter, right?”

Those were the exact words Wen Yuan had used as a joke while gaming. Wen Yuan realized she had dug this hole for herself. She shot Chu Yihan a look of amused exasperation.

Seeing Chu Yihan biting her lip in awkwardness, and remembering how small and helpless she looked when the movie scared her, Wen Yuan’s heart completely melted. The bed was huge; they could just sleep on separate sides. And she trusted herself too.

Seeing that Wen Yuan didn’t refuse outright, Chu Yihan pressed on: “I’m a very well-behaved sleeper!”

Wen Yuan relented. “Alright. But just so you know, I don’t have the best sleeping posture.”

Chu Yihan’s eyes lit up, a brilliant smile breaking across her face. “It doesn’t matter…”