After Transmigrating into an ABO World with My Nemesis (BL) - Chapter 10

Jiang Zhou: “…”

Taking a deep breath, Jiang Zhou offered a fake smile and said, “Then what more do you want, Young Master?”

Cheng Bing seemed quite satisfied by the title “Young Master,” his eyebrows twitching slightly in amusement. “If you beg me…”

“Eat it or not, I don’t care! I’ve spoiled you too much!” Jiang Zhou snapped, his patience finally snapping.

Cheng Bing’s lips immediately curled downward. “Oh.”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

He treated my wound, he treated my wound, he treated my wound…

Jiang Zhou closed his eyes, performing a frantic round of mental construction. Then, he opened them again, forcing a sincere smile toward Cheng Bing—though his eyes remained murderous and his tone was dripping with sarcasm, looking as if he were ready to take a chunk out of the guy at any second.

“I beg of you, I want to treat you to lunch so badly. If you don’t go with me, all the noble qualities of my soul will vanish. My world will turn grey. My heart will shatter into one thousand, eight hundred pieces.” Having finished, the smile vanished instantly. He asked gloomily, “Is that enough? Sincere enough for you?”

Meeting a gaze that looked ready to tear him apart, Cheng Bing knew that if he teased him any further, he really would be strangled. He decided to quit while he was ahead, giving an elegant nod. “It would be rude to decline such ‘warm’ hospitality.”

Warm hospitality?

This damn Cheng Bing—getting a bargain and acting like he’s doing a favor!

Jiang Zhou hissed through gritted teeth, “Cheng—Bing—!”

Cheng Bing looked at him with a faint smile.

Unable to stay angry at that face, Jiang Zhou could only grumble sullenly, “Your lunch quality just got a downgrade today!”

“What was my original lunch going to be?”

“…Shrimp and crab pot.”

“And after the deduction?”

“Instant noodles!”

“Wow.” Cheng Bing let out a flat, deadpan “wow” and nodded calmly. “That’s truly terrifying.”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

He doesn’t look terrified at all!

In the end, he still treated him to the shrimp and crab pot.

A painful loss of eighty yuan.

Fortunately, his “mother” in this world provided a very generous allowance. Jiang Zhou checked his balance and saw he was still doing well.

Thank you, Mom. Great Mom.

After finishing their meal, they strolled back to campus. Neither planned to return to the library, so they each checked out a few books to research in their dorms.

Jiang Zhou spent two days struggling through the books and watching science explainer videos, but he still had no clue.

How exactly was he supposed to get back?

Maybe the knowledge he was learning now wasn’t enough? Or maybe none of this had anything to do with getting back at all?

Jiang Zhou felt a wave of despair. He figured if he could actually solve this, he’d be in a physics lab waiting for a Nobel Prize, not lying in a college dorm sighing.

“Zhouzhou, it’s time for PE class. We need to head out early; the field is pretty far.” Lin Le saw Jiang Zhou still lying on the bed, staring miserably at his phone, and tapped the bed railing to remind him.

Shaking off his thoughts, Jiang Zhou agreed and hopped down from the bed.

As he was descending, a sharp, sudden pain shot through the back of his neck. It came without warning, like a needle being driven deep into his skin.

Their dorm was a quad with loft beds. Because of the sudden pain in his gland, Jiang Zhou missed a step on the ladder and fell.

Luckily, Lin Le was quick and caught him before he hit the floor.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Lin Le asked worriedly.

Jiang Zhou was a bit dazed. He instinctively covered the back of his neck and shook his head. “…I’m fine.”

The pain had been instantaneous; it vanished the moment he fell.

“Did you take your medicine today?” Lin Le asked.

“I haven’t taken the lunchtime dose yet,” Jiang Zhou admitted.

Jiang Zhou had a habit: unless he felt noticeably sick, he’d forget his meds. Back when he had colds or fevers, he’d always leave a day’s worth of pills unswallowed. His mother was busy with work and couldn’t always nag him, but luckily he had a strong constitution and nothing ever went wrong.

After transmigrating, he kept the habit. Out of three daily doses, he’d usually miss one. But Jiang Zhou figured the main reason was that he’d only been here a few days and hadn’t fully adjusted to having a new organ on his neck. He tended to ignore the faint discomfort.

“Class starts in twenty minutes. Take your medicine first,” Lin Le urged. Then he added, “Why doesn’t your Alpha remind you?”

Jiang Zhou: “.”

Jiang Zhou blinked and asked politely, “My… Alpha is who, exactly?”

“The one you came back drenched in pheromones from the other day,” Lin Le teased. “Leaving such a strong scent on an Omega is a very obvious display of possession. You’re quite indulgent with him.”

Jiang Zhou felt goosebumps break out at the suggestion. As he poured water to take his pills, he shivered. “…Stop it. We really aren’t like that. I forgot my blocker that day and my pheromones were leaking, so he just helped me out.”

Lin Le: “…You know the library basement sells blockers, right?”

Not only blockers, but suppressants, patches, and everything else. Why did it have to reach the point of leaving an Alpha’s scent on an Omega?

Jiang Zhou didn’t know how to explain. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a second, he muttered vaguely, “…Anyway, it’s not what you think.”

For real?

Lin Le looked at him with pity, saying meaningfully, “Child, Alphas are a bunch of scheming bastards. Be careful, or you’ll be eaten down to the bone.”

After taking his medicine, Jiang Zhou firmly assured Lin Le that there was zero possibility between him and Cheng Bing. They headed to the field, only to run into Cheng Bing on the way there.

The two locked eyes across the path. Jiang Zhou instinctively put on a fierce expression, trying to “scare back” the times Cheng Bing had spooked him.

Cheng Bing looked away with total indifference, acting as if he didn’t care at all.

Jiang Zhou: “…”

Stupid Cheng Bing.

“Wow, look at that fate.” Lin Le noticed too, nudging Jiang Zhou with his elbow.

Jiang Zhou let out a dry laugh and hissed, “It’s a curse!”

At 2:00 PM, the sun was scorching. Their teacher found a shady spot for the assembly. The shade was large, and coincidentally, another class was gathered right next to them—Cheng Bing’s class.

The atmosphere of PE was relaxed. Lin Le and Jiang Zhou stood together, whispering.

“Do you feel better? Does your neck still hurt?” Lin Le asked.

Jiang Zhou said hesitantly, “Better… I think?”

“I think?” Lin Le said worriedly. “If you really aren’t feeling well, you should ask for a leave. The teacher seems pretty easygoing.”

Jiang Zhou touched the back of his neck. He couldn’t quite describe the feeling. It was a bit uncomfortable, yet not quite. Overall, his gland felt sore and swollen, and his body felt heavy, almost like he was coming down with a cold. But it wasn’t enough to stop his normal movements.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

Jiang Zhou’s father had passed away in a car accident years ago. His mother raised him alone and was always busy; Jiang Zhou hated causing her trouble and had been used to “toughing it out” since he was small. It wasn’t a big deal; he’d just endure it until it passed.

Lin Le observed his face. Seeing that he didn’t look like he was forcing himself too hard, he said, “Alright then. Don’t push yourself if it gets bad, and remember to take your meds properly over the next few days.”

Jiang Zhou nodded obediently. It was hard to tell if he was actually being good or just pretending.

Since they were only freshmen, PE consisted of general fitness activities rather than elective sports. The teacher had them do some stretches and then lined them up to run laps around the field.

Jiang Zhou had a good constitution; back in his original world, a 5000-meter run was a breeze. Today, for some reason, he felt out of breath after just one 400-meter lap.

Dizzy, blurry vision, weak legs.

It was cursed.

As he ran, his gland began to sting again. It was faint at first, coming in waves, but soon it became a constant throb. While Jiang Zhou was good at enduring, he had a “sanity meter” and knew when not to flirt with death. For example, he realized that if he kept pushing now, he’d be an absolute idiot.

He tapped Lin Le, whispering that he needed to go rest for a bit. Lin Le asked if he needed company, but Jiang Zhou quickly waved him off.

He stopped, lifted his leaden legs, and carefully moved to the grass by the field. He crouched down, clutching his stinging gland, letting out a hiss of pain.

For some reason, his head felt heavy and foggy too.

It felt like his ears were underwater; all sounds were muffled, coming from a vast distance.

“…Has someone not retracted their pheromones?”

“Ah, why do I smell an Omega’s scent?”

“Do any of you have a blocker?”

Jiang Zhou had specifically applied blocker before leaving today. His brain was so cloudy that he didn’t realize at first who they were talking about. He just wanted to leave the field quickly; he knew Omega pheromones could affect other Omegas too. His gland already hurt; he shouldn’t stay here. If he got caught in an “influence,” it would be disastrous.

He wobbled as he stood up from the grass, but as soon as he reached his full height, his vision went black.

He instinctively reached out for something to hold on to, but his hand flailed in the air without finding support.

Crap.

I’m going to fall.

That was Jiang Zhou’s last thought before he blacked out.

But to his surprise, he didn’t hit the ground. A familiar scent of fresh snow and wood enveloped him.

He fell into a warm, soft embrace.