After Transmigrating into an ABO World with My Nemesis (BL) - Chapter 15

Jiang Zhou froze for a second, carefully sensing the back of his own neck.

After a moment, he said with a hint of hesitation, “It’s not… especially painful anymore?”

“Not especially painful” meant it still hurt. Jiang Zhou had a habit of toughing things out; he wasn’t sure where that bad habit had come from.

“My jacket is on the sofa,” Cheng Bing said.

The clothes of Alphas and Omegas carry their pheromones. According to the ABO Physiological Knowledge Video, wearing a partner’s clothes is one of the most effective ways to soothe someone.

Of course, it also carries a subtle hint of… flirting.

But clearly, Jiang Zhou didn’t realize that. Besides, they weren’t partners. He just felt it was unnecessary.

Jiang Zhou wasn’t the type to trouble others, a trait that went back to his childhood. He had been a mischievous kid and caused a lot of headaches for his parents. After his father passed away, a relative had teased him, saying he only knew how to cause trouble, that he was a “drag” on his mother, and that he should be careful or she wouldn’t want him anymore.

Jiang Zhou had cried and kicked the relative’s legs. Even though his mom had scolded the relative and promised him she’d never abandon him, Jiang Zhou remembered that incident for a long time. Especially as his mother grew busier with work, little Jiang Zhou seemed to grow up overnight. His mother was already exhausted; he couldn’t cause her any more trouble.

In short, he had developed the habit of never seeking help unless it was absolutely necessary.

He was already “inhaling” pheromones with Cheng Bing every day; he could handle it. It didn’t seem bad enough that he had to borrow a jacket. It felt a bit… melodramatic, and carried an unidentifiable sense of strangeness.

“…No need,” Jiang Zhou instinctively refused, mumbling, “I’m doing fine.”

Cheng Bing stared at him expressionlessly for a moment, then lowered his eyelids, turned back to the beef brisket in the pot, and let out a flat “Oh.”

Huh?

Jiang Zhou widened his eyes, quietly observing Cheng Bing’s face.

Yep, still the same “poser” ice-block face, no readable emotion. But that “Oh” sounded a bit… stiff. Like he wasn’t very happy.

No way, must be my imagination.

Jiang Zhou, who had been about to go wash up, turned back and walked over to Cheng Bing. He squinted his eyes, performing a rigorous, serious observation.

Jiang Zhou’s eyes were as bright as lightbulbs, and his nose was practically poking the other guy’s face. He was hard to ignore.

Cheng Bing stared at the pot, not even looking up. He said coldly, “If you’re so bored, go memorize vocabulary. The CET-4 exam is in December. If you don’t pass, you can’t graduate.”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

How can a mouth at 37 degrees Celsius say something so cold and dampening?

It really was an illusion. Cheng Bing wouldn’t feel “let down” because his kindness was rejected. At most, he was just annoyed that his nemesis was being difficult.

Jiang Zhou nodded in satisfaction. Right, right. This is the atmosphere we should have.

If they couldn’t be “ride-or-die” brothers, at least they shouldn’t be “gay-coded.” He floated off to wash up, feeling at peace.

Strangely enough, even though he’d refused the jacket, he couldn’t help but glance at it as he passed the sofa. Pheromones surged restlessly in his body. Jiang Zhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed; he swallowed for no apparent reason.

He stood by the sofa for a moment until he heard a noise from the kitchen—it sounded like Cheng Bing had dropped something. That snapped him back to reality.

“Damn this ABO world…” Jiang Zhou knit his brows, muttering as he forced himself toward the bathroom. “I should have transmigrated as a Beta.”

Why is this broken body always so out of control?

After dinner, the two spent the afternoon buying more household supplies. After fussing around and eating lunch leftovers for dinner, they prepared to replicate what they did before transmigrating.

They decided to recall and write down the entire timeline first.

“What did you do that night?” Jiang Zhou asked.

“Advanced Calculus.”

Jiang Zhou: “…Besides that?”

“Showered.”

“And then?”

“Slept.”

“…Don’t you have any recreational activities?”

Cheng Bing stared at him with zero emotion.

Jiang Zhou: “…Fine. You’re amazing.”

By comparison, Jiang Zhou’s night had been much more colorful. He’d played a 5v5 team game all night, getting furious at a group of “trolls” who had the nerve to blame his gameplay. Jiang Zhou had furiously hammered his phone keyboard, and after an unfriendly exchange, he deleted the game in a rage.

As he spoke, he opened the apps he’d used back then, slowly remembering. “Then I browsed a forum for a bit and ‘disliked’ a comment.”

Jiang Zhou was actually spacing out a bit. They were sitting very close on the sofa, and Cheng Bing’s jacket was draped over the backrest. A faint scent of pheromones mixed with laundry detergent drifted over.

This scent kept twitching Jiang Zhou’s nerves.

It was so strange. He had refused it this morning, so why was he thinking about it more after saying no?

Is there such a logic? Do I actually want it?

The scent of fresh snow and damp greenery drifted over gently, enveloping him. The discomfort at his nape eased instantly, and the restless pheromones in his body were soothed. He felt like he was soaking in warm water—even a bit drowsy.

Until Cheng Bing asked out of the blue, “What comment did you dislike?”

Jiang Zhou snapped awake and instinctively pulled up his history—

[Therefore, enemies are lovers.]

Jiang Zhou: “…”

Cheng Bing: “…”

Jiang Zhou: “…………”

Why is the comment I disliked in the parallel world the exact same one!

Jiang Zhou snapped back to reality, realizing what was happening. Heat and redness rushed to his face at lightning speed. He exited the app, cleared the cache, and shut off his screen. With a rigid neck and a face of pure “righteousness,” he clutched his phone, his ears scarlet. “Th-that’s just absolute nonsense! Alarmist! So… so my ‘dislike’ was perfectly normal, right!”

“You disliked that same sentence in our original world too?”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

Crap, I forgot I could have just blamed it on the ‘Jiang Zhou’ of this world!

Cheng Bing saw his tense jaw and strange expression. His eyebrow twitched. “Do you care that much?”

Jiang Zhou’s face turned even redder as he shouted back, “Who cares!”

Cheng Bing let out a “mhm” with an unidentifiable tone.

Mhm your head.

Jiang Zhou looked at him fiercely. Before he could fully explode, Cheng Bing quit while he was ahead and changed the subject calmly: “Do you want to scent pheromones today?”

Jiang Zhou choked. Damn, he’s got me. He couldn’t stay mad.

“Cheng… Bing…” He could only let out a low, threatening sound like a cornered cub.

Cheng Bing remained as steady as a mountain and asked again, “Do you want to?”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

He really couldn’t say no.

Jiang Zhou took a deep breath, then suddenly grabbed Cheng Bing’s collar and yanked the other toward him.

He pulled hard and suddenly. Cheng Bing had to brace one hand against the back of the sofa to avoid crushing Jiang Zhou.

Jiang Zhou didn’t answer, but his actions made it clear: he wanted, right now, to scent Cheng Bing’s pheromones.

His light-colored eyes, filled with bright desire and fire, locked with Cheng Bing’s for a moment. Then he lowered his lashes, pulling Cheng Bing even closer. Simultaneously, he leaned forward, his nose pressing against the side of Cheng Bing’s neck to take a light sniff.

A cool current of air brushed against Cheng Bing’s neck. With the Omega in his arms needing and craving his scent so much, it satisfied that innate, predatory possessiveness deep within the Alpha.

The skin on Cheng Bing’s neck shivered slightly. His hand braced against the sofa tightened, the veins on the back of his hand bulging as if he were suppressing something.

After a long time, Jiang Zhou’s grip on the collar went limp. His cheeks were flushed a deep rose, and he slumped into the sofa like he had no bones.

The distance between them opened up, but Cheng Bing still kept him cornered, refusing to move for a long while.

Finally, Jiang Zhou said hoarsely and softly, “I’m good.”

With a hint of nasality, he sounded utterly lazy and satisfied—not like he’d just sniffed pheromones, but like a demon who had just sucked out a person’s life essence.

Cheng Bing’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Two seconds later, his tense posture suddenly relaxed. He slowly, slowly straightened up, releasing Jiang Zhou from between his arms.

He hid his trembling fingers—whether from excitement or something else—and said flatly, “Mhm.”

Since both their pheromones were unstable, it was a mutual exchange. Now that Jiang Zhou was finished, it was Cheng Bing’s turn. This had been their routine for the past few days.

Jiang Zhou slowly flipped his body over on the sofa, lying on his stomach against the backrest, exposing his entire nape to Cheng Bing. “…Your turn… mgh!”

When Cheng Bing scented him, it was far more intense.

Jiang Zhou’s shoulders and waist were pinned down; he was in a position from which escape was impossible. He didn’t notice the weight of it, only feeling that being pressed down was uncomfortable, so he struggled slightly. Cheng Bing’s hand on his shoulder tightened for a second, stopping the escape. After hearing Jiang Zhou’s muffled grunt of pain, he paused before forcing himself to loosen the grip.

Jiang Zhou seemingly decided the pressure was bearable and stopped struggling, lying still and obedient.

Cheng Bing lowered his head, pressing close to Jiang Zhou’s gland, sniffing. His lips were almost touching the skin. The breath hit the gland, making tiny goosebumps sprout on Jiang Zhou’s skin; he shivered involuntarily.

Usually, he could tough it out, but today it felt exceptionally long.

Suddenly, Jiang Zhou flinched violently.

Cheng Bing’s hand on his waist reached forward, his arm wrapping around Jiang Zhou’s stomach, and then he yanked him backward with force—

Pulling him directly into his embrace.