A Short-Lived Cannon Fodder Alpha Just Wants to Be a Salted Fish - Chapter 4

Initially, Wen Yuan felt a bit bad about bothering Chu Yihan. She was very restrained when asking questions, thinking she would only look for her when she was truly at a dead end.

However, Wen Yuan overestimated her own intelligence and underestimated Shi Ran’s thirst for knowledge.

The two of them encountered difficult problems every day. Shi Ran was still unwilling to communicate directly with Chu Yihan, but her curiosity was through the roof, and she constantly prodded Wen Yuan to do the asking.

On Friday night, as usual, Chu Yihan was walking Wen Yuan through a problem via voice call. Wen Yuan finished the calculation, snapped a photo, and forwarded it to Shi Ran.

Shi Ran replied with a sentence of Classical Chinese.

Yuxiang Rose: “Help me ask the Study God how she translates this line.”

“The Emperor secretly raised three thousand death-sworn soldiers, scattered among the common folk; until one day they gathered, and no one knew where they had come from.”

Wen Yuan held up her phone and read it aloud, frowning as she typed.

Preserved Egg Solo Congee: “How come I didn’t see this question? Where did you dig this up from?”

Yuxiang Rose: “It’s pre-study homework for Chinese class. ‘Auntie He’ (The teacher) will definitely call on me to translate it in class [Smile]. Hurry, help me ask!”

Since online classes didn’t involve being called on, Wen Yuan hadn’t taken the pre-study seriously. She looked at the sentence again and felt it wasn’t that hard.

“Bothering people all the time isn’t good. Big Sis will translate it for you,” Wen Yuan muttered while typing. “The Emperor raised three thousand death-sworn soldiers in the Underworld (Yinjian), scattering them among the living; one day he summoned them, and everyone wondered which hole they crawled out of.”

Before she could hit send, a soft chuckle came through the phone’s receiver. Chu Yihan’s gentle voice carried obvious amusement: “Wen Yuan, are you telling ghost stories?”

Immediately after, Wen Yuan received the correct translation from Chu Yihan.

[The Emperor secretly trained three thousand death-sworn soldiers, dispersed among the people; on this day they were called together, and the crowd did not know where they had emerged from.]

Wen Yuan’s gaze froze and drifted upward, where she saw the minimized call display—

Her voice call with Chu Yihan had never been hung up.

Realizing this, Wen Yuan instantly cut the call and face-planted onto her bed. Her ears were burning fiercely, as was her face; she didn’t even need to look to know she was flushed deep red.

How embarrassing!

Why did she have a language barrier where she had to read aloud while typing?

And fine, if she had to read it aloud, what kind of nonsense translation was that?!

Thinking of Chu Yihan’s laugh and that teasing remark, Wen Yuan pounded the bed twice in shame and indignation.

Suddenly, an electric sensation surged from her hands through her entire body. Her blood felt like it was boiling, and her breathing became increasingly rapid. The nerves near her gland seemed to throb, and she could feel her pheromones clawing and tearing at the anti-pheromone patch, trying to break free.

Fang Jingbai was the first to sense something was wrong. She rushed to open the door with a suppressor in hand. Wen Ming followed closely behind, grabbing Fang Jingbai just as she tried to step inside: “Don’t go in.”

An Alpha’s pheromones have a massive impact on the same sex, causing mutual repulsion. It wasn’t uncommon for a newly manifested child who couldn’t control their pheromones to accidentally injure their parents.

Fang Jingbai shoved the suppressor into Wen Ming’s hand.

Wen Ming injected Wen Yuan with the suppressor and then checked her patch. “It’s still effective. How did the pheromones leak out?”

Wen Yuan shook her head. “I don’t know.”

To be safe, Wen Ming replaced her patch with a new one. The suppressor began to take effect, and the pheromones in the room faded.

Fang Jingbai glanced at Wen Ming. “I’ll take her to the hospital tomorrow to have a look.”

Wen Ming recommended a doctor. “Book an appointment with Zhong Yue.”

Not feeling at ease about Wen Yuan, the couple hung around the room and wouldn’t leave. Wen Yuan stared back at them, feeling like she was sitting on pins and needles.

The moment her phone vibrated, Wen Yuan felt like she’d found a savior. She jumped off the bed and waved the phone in front of her parents. “Give me some privacy. Can you two head out?”

“You’re just a kid, what privacy?” Despite her words, Fang Jingbai cooperatively pulled Wen Ming out.

At the door, Wen Ming turned back to ask, “Male or female? Alpha or Omega?”

“It’s Shi Ran!” Wen Yuan shot him a massive eye-roll and pushed him out the door, locking it with one hand while sliding the screen to answer the call with the other.

Shi Ran: “Hey friend, did you forget about me?”

Wen Yuan: “I really did forget about you.”

Shi Ran: “Did you fall asleep while typing the answer?”

Moving the phone away from her ear, Wen Yuan turned on the speakerphone and clicked into the chat window. Sure enough, that string of “bull-and-horse” (nonsense) translation was still sitting in the input box. Wen Yuan held the backspace key and deleted everything.

Shi Ran: “So, did you help me ask…?”

Wen Yuan: “I did. I’ll copy it for you.”

Switching to the chat with Chu Yihan, Wen Yuan froze. Fifteen minutes ago, Chu Yihan had sent three consecutive messages.

The first: “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at you. I just thought your translation was very cute.”

Cute? Wen Yuan raised an eyebrow. This was the first time someone had called her “cute.”

The second: “Also, I never feel like it’s a bother when you ask questions.”

The last one was an emoji: a little kitten holding a sign that said “Don’t be mad anymore,” with watery, innocent, and pitiful eyes. It was the kind of thing that made it impossible to stay angry.

Wen Yuan recalled Chu Yihan’s damp, misty eyes. Honestly, it wasn’t Chu Yihan’s fault; there was no reason to stay upset at someone who had done nothing wrong. If she had to blame someone, she’d blame herself—and maybe a little bit of Shi Ran.

Preserved Egg Solo Congee: “I’m not mad.”

Seeing no movement from Wen Yuan, Shi Ran couldn’t help but ask: “Little Bird? Hey, friend? Long time no sound, are you still alive?”

“Barely.” Wen Yuan forwarded Chu Yihan’s translation to Shi Ran and said crossly, “Sent. Hanging up now.”

Shi Ran sent several “finger heart” emojis in a row. Wen Yuan snorted and sent a random emoji back.

Chu Yihan replied: “Are you really not mad?”

Wen Yuan: “Really not mad.” She paused and typed an extra line: “You really don’t find it annoying?”

Chu Yihan: “Really don’t find it annoying.”

Chu Yihan: “I will never find you annoying.”

A moment later, Chu Yihan added another: “I said I’d take responsibility for you.”

Wen Yuan clicked her tongue and replied with four words:

[Dutiful and responsible.]

There were many people at the hospital on the weekend. Fortunately, Fang Jingbai had booked an appointment online, so Wen Yuan didn’t have to wait long.

Dr. Zhong got a general overview of the situation and sent Wen Yuan for a physical. The report came back quickly. Dr. Zhong looked at the sheet and said, “Hormones are on the high side, and they show an upward trend.”

Fang Jingbai asked, “Why would the hormones be high?”

Dr. Zhong explained, “Pheromones are ranked. Xiao Yuan’s pheromones are of a higher grade, so her hormone levels are naturally higher than the average. This is normal.”

Wen Yuan’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

“High hormones, the instability of a fresh manifestation, and large emotional fluctuations leading to a pheromone burst—it’s all normal. Don’t worry too much.” Dr. Zhong wrote a prescription. “I’ll give you some medicine to regulate your hormones. Make sure to keep your mood relaxed and happy.”

Wen Yuan asked curiously, “Then what counts as ‘abnormal’?”

“For example, Pheromone Dependency Syndrome or Pheromone Allergy,” Dr. Zhong handed the slip to Wen Yuan. “I previously encountered an Omega about your age who had Obstructionist Alpha Rejection Disorder (OARD). That is also abnormal.”

The first two had been covered in biology class, but it was the first time Wen Yuan had heard of OARD.

Leaving the consultation room, Fang Jingbai went to pay the fees while Wen Yuan sat in the lobby to wait. Out of curiosity and boredom, Wen Yuan searched for information on OARD.

An Omega, due to psychological barriers, has a rejection reaction to contact with Alphas.

Symptoms include an aversion to contact, displays of germaphobia during physical touch, and in severe cases, vomiting.

Research shows that Omegas can gradually resolve this rejection through step-by-step intimate contact with an Alpha toward whom they show no obvious rejection.

The bottom of the page listed the steps for contact. Wen Yuan had no interest in learning them. She looked toward the self-service payment machines; the line was like a long dragon, and Fang Jingbai was only halfway through.

Wen Yuan sent her mom a text and got up to use the restroom.

The line for the first-floor restroom was even longer than the payment line; the second floor was much the same. Wen Yuan crossed the sky-bridge to the neighboring inpatient department, where the restrooms were almost empty.

As she walked by, a female Omega in front of the sinks dropped her keys. A female Alpha nearby knelt to help her, but instead of the keys, she accidentally brushed the Omega’s hand.

Wen Yuan lowered her eyelids, her gaze lazily landing on the Omega. The girl wore a white dress, and her skin was even whiter than the fabric; crouching there, she looked like a little snowball.

As her eyes swept over their overlapping hands, Wen Yuan instinctively knitted her brows. For some reason, it felt uncomfortable.

Wen Yuan figured it was just because she’d been holding it in for too long. She bypassed the pair and headed straight for the Alpha restroom. She heard the female Omega give a low “Thank you.”

The voice was soft and sweet. Wen Yuan thought of Chu Yihan and couldn’t help but glance back. The Alpha had already left, and the “Snowball” was washing her hands with her back to Wen Yuan.

It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence, could it? Wen Yuan pulled her gaze away and entered the restroom.

When she came out, the Snowball was still washing her hands. Wen Yuan walked to her side to fix her bangs in the mirror. The Snowball lifted her face.

Wen Yuan froze. It really was Chu Yihan.

“Wen Yuan?” Chu Yihan spoke first. “Why are you here?”

“A check-up.” Wen Yuan put her hands under the faucet. “What about you?”

Chu Yihan: “Visiting my grandfather.” Since it involved private matters, Wen Yuan nodded and didn’t ask further.

Chu Yihan was still washing her hands. Her skin was so white that the area she had been scrubbing was now a startling, angry red.

Wen Yuan couldn’t help but warn her, “If you keep scrubbing, you’re going to lose a layer of skin.”

Chu Yihan blinked and withdrew her hands.

Wen Yuan thought back to the scene just now. “Do you have germaphobia?”

“No.” Chu Yihan shook her head. She pulled a paper towel and wiped her hands methodically. After a silence of two or three seconds, she said, “It’s Obstructionist Alpha Rejection Disorder.”

She had just gained a basic understanding of the condition, and now she’d run into a patient. Wen Yuan strongly suspected the “Omega about her age” the doctor mentioned was exactly Chu Yihan.

She suddenly remembered the day of the manifestation. “You have OARD, yet you bit me? You hugged me? And you carried me?!”

Chu Yihan lifted her eyes to look at Wen Yuan. In those pale amber irises, her emotions were unreadable. After a long moment, her lips curved into a subtle, almost imperceptible smile.

“I have no rejection reaction toward you.”