After Transmigrating into an ABO World with My Nemesis (BL) - Chapter 9

There was a pharmacy right across the road. Cheng Bing hauled him inside; Jiang Zhou, his “nape of destiny” firmly gripped, looked thoroughly displeased.

The clerk glanced at the wound on Jiang Zhou’s face and turned to grab some antiseptic and band-aids.

“Stop squeezing my neck!” Jiang Zhou bristled in a low voice.

Cheng Bing turned his head, his gaze sweeping downward. He saw Jiang Zhou’s knitted brows and his face scrunched up in an expression that clearly screamed I am very, very unhappy right now.

The wound on his face had already formed a thin layer of scab. A few streaks of dried blood ran from the cut down to his chin; at a glance, half his face looked smeared with blood, which was a bit startling to behold.

But Jiang Zhou clearly didn’t think it was a big deal. Seeing Cheng Bing staring at his face, he reached up to touch it, then looked at his fingers. The blood had dried, and all he felt were a few crusty bits.

Jiang Zhou started rubbing his face vigorously, trying to scrub the dried blood off. Cheng Bing frowned, unable to watch any longer. He caught Jiang Zhou’s wrist, stopping his rough movements. “Do you think your face is a scouring pad?”

Jiang Zhou: “?”

His vulnerable nape was cupped in a palm, and his wrist was being restrained. It was an awkward posture—it felt like if they moved even an inch closer, they’d be hugging.

He looked up and collided directly with Cheng Bing’s eyes. The lashes were long, thick, and black; currently, his eyelids were slightly lowered, casting shadows into his eyes and making his pupils appear exceptionally dark—a blackness that seemed capable of swallowing someone whole.

…They were too close.

Jiang Zhou caught the scent of his pheromones again. It was faint and light, mixed with the smell of laundry detergent on his clothes, making it seem very gentle. It was nothing like the aggressive, deterrent pheromones from a moment ago, nor the pheromones full of desire and hunger from yesterday.

It smelled great.

It instantly dispelled the nausea Jiang Zhou felt from that “cement” scented Alpha earlier.

Suddenly, he felt a bit self-conscious.

Jiang Zhou pushed Cheng Bing’s hand away and turned his face aside awkwardly to avoid his gaze, muttering, “It’s my own face, why do you have so much to say?”

Cheng Bing stared at him expressionlessly.

Jiang Zhou nudged his arm, trying to knock away the hand Cheng Bing still had on his nape. “I’m telling you, stop touching the back of my neck. In this world, touching a guy’s nape counts as sexual harassment.”

Cheng Bing didn’t let go. He kept the nape imprisoned in his palm and said flatly, “You’re covered in that Alpha’s pheromones.”

“Am I?” Jiang Zhou sniffed himself, puzzled.

Actually, the scent was long gone.

Back in the alley, when that Alpha released his pheromones to try and suppress him, Jiang Zhou had only caught a trace of it. By the time Cheng Bing released his own crushing deterrence, that cement-like scent had been utterly pulverized.

But Cheng Bing still felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction.

It was the unpleasantness of having one’s territory invaded by another.

Thus, he felt an urgent need to re-mark his territory with his own scent—leaving behind pheromones that could never be influenced by anyone else.

“I don’t smell anything,” Jiang Zhou said, looking up with wide eyes, genuinely confused.

Cheng Bing realized he was acting very “off” right now.

His eyelashes flickered, as if suddenly waking from an improper delusion.

Cheng Bing slowly withdrew his hand and lightly rubbed his fingertips together. He looked away, no longer watching Jiang Zhou, and said with restraint, “It’s gone now.”

Jiang Zhou didn’t notice the strangeness; he simply felt a sense of relief that Cheng Bing had let go.

Without the physical contact, they finally returned to a reasonable social distance, and that weird atmosphere dissipated. Jiang Zhou felt better and stopped bickering with Cheng Bing about the neck-grabbing.

The clerk returned with a bottle of antiseptic and a pack of square band-aids. Jiang Zhou had just raised his phone to pay when the pharmacy’s payment confirmation broadcast rang out.

He turned to see that Cheng Bing had already finished scanning the code and was putting his phone away, while taking the supplies from the young clerk.

“What are you doing!” he glared at Cheng Bing.

Cheng Bing held the bag and said simply, “Let’s go. Treat the wound.”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

I really hate his commanding tone!

Jiang Zhou was highly displeased, but even while fuming, he followed behind Cheng Bing like a little tail as they left the pharmacy.

They found a quiet spot and sat on a dark brown park bench.

Cheng Bing had bought a bottle of mineral water and wet wipes on the way. Jiang Zhou cleaned the blood off his face himself, grumbling as he worked: “I told you such a tiny wound isn’t worth worrying about. I don’t feel anything now, it doesn’t hurt at all—AAAGH! What are you doing!”

Cheng Bing was expressionlessly spraying antiseptic on the wound. Watching Jiang Zhou wince and hiss, he asked coldly, “Doesn’t hurt?”

…It hurt like hell!

But Jiang Zhou had his pride to maintain. He clenched his fists and said through gritted teeth, “It doesn’t! Not at all! Zero sensation!”

Cheng Bing raised the antiseptic again, making a move as if to spray more. Jiang Zhou sucked in a breath but stiffened his neck and closed his eyes, refusing to dodge.

Two seconds later, a soft object touched his wound.

Jiang Zhou froze.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw Cheng Bing’s hand retracting. On the bench sat the torn white packaging of a band-aid.

Jiang Zhou touched his face and, sure enough, felt the soft, rough texture of the bandage.

Cheng Bing hadn’t sprayed more antiseptic; instead, he had applied the band-aid for him.

…Scaring him again.

But he had treated the wound.

Jiang Zhou was just about to say an awkward “thanks” when he suddenly heard Cheng Bing ask: “Then what would it take for you to feel pain?”

They were on the hill behind the school, planted with many ginkgo trees. It was September, and the leaves hadn’t changed yet; a sea of green rustled in the wind. Jiang Zhou blanked amid that sound.

Cheng Bing gazed at him. His bangs were blown back by the breeze, and the eyes he revealed seemed calm and cold—yet also deep, hiding things Jiang Zhou couldn’t quite read.

A small-animal-like intuition made him sense a hint of danger. Jiang Zhou blinked rapidly, looked down at the band-aid wrapper on the bench, and whispered, “…Well, the injury isn’t that serious. If it really hurt, I wouldn’t have this kind of reaction.”

He felt a bit guilty, his voice getting smaller as he spoke. Once finished, he tentatively lifted his eyelids just enough to gauge Cheng Bing’s expression.

Cheng Bing’s dark, heavy eyes were still on him, harboring an unidentifiable emotion.

Jiang Zhou: “…”

Being this submissive in front of a nemesis was a blow to his dignity. Jiang Zhou felt he couldn’t stay this guilty, so he looked back up and said to Cheng Bing with a touch of self-abandon, “Okay, fine, I admit it hurt a little bit. But I did it to save that Omega.”

Finally, he added in a small, defiant, and aggrieved voice: “It’s not like I did it on purpose. Why be so mean to me… it was clearly that Alpha’s fault.”

It was that Alpha’s fault. There is no logic that justifies blaming the victim or the one who helped.

Cheng Bing didn’t mean to blame him, either.

He looked at Jiang Zhou and said, “Jiang Zhou, but you are an Omega now.”

Jiang Zhou’s body stiffened. He bit his lip, unwilling to accept this reality, but it was the truth. He could only mumble sullenly, “So what? No one said an Omega can’t protect people.”

Jiang Zhou didn’t realize that in this world, Omegas were very susceptible to harm.

Or rather, he refused to admit he was vulnerable. He had always viewed himself as a protector; he wasn’t used to being the one protected.

So, even after transmigrating and becoming an Omega, he maintained his old ways.

This made Cheng Bing feel an inexplicable flash of irritation.

“Then what about you?” Cheng Bing said.

“…Me?”

Cheng Bing probably felt that blurting those words out was inappropriate, so he pressed his lips together and looked away toward the distant clouds, falling silent.

Yet Jiang Zhou seemed to understand his unspoken words. His eyes widened slightly as he looked at him in surprise.

Was Cheng Bing… worried about him?

This was truly rare. After all, the things Jiang Zhou heard most from Cheng Bing were cold sarcasm, heartless rejections, and AI-like “mhm,” “oh,” and “ah.”

But now clearly wasn’t the time for banter.

Jiang Zhou’s warm, translucent, light-colored eyes looked quietly at Cheng Bing. “I know what you’re trying to say.”

So Cheng Bing turned back to look at him.

Perhaps what he was about to say—especially in front of Cheng Bing—made him a little shy. He lowered his gaze slightly, his soft lashes half-covering his light eyes, and his lips pursed gently.

He said in a low voice, “But, I can’t just stop being me just because I came to a parallel world and became an Omega.”

“…”

Jiang Zhou turned back to look into the distance.

Here was no different from their original world—the sky, the clouds, the grey buildings lined up under the blue expanse.

The reflection of the scenery shone in Jiang Zhou’s eyes as he said, “We’re going to go back eventually, right?”

“…Mhm.”

“I’ll be more careful from now on.” Jiang Zhou bit his lip, then looked back at Cheng Bing, meeting his eyes. “It’s fine.”

Cheng Bing’s throat moved, wanting to say something, but he ultimately swallowed the words and simply said, “Mhm.”

The weather was still hot, but it was cool here under the shade. The breeze brought a sense of comfort.

After a few moments of silence, Jiang Zhou glanced at Cheng Bing. “…Why were you there, anyway?”

Cheng Bing said, “I couldn’t find a place to eat.”

So this guy still hadn’t eaten?

Jiang Zhou checked the time—it was already 2:00 PM. He felt a tiny pang of guilt; if he’d known, he wouldn’t have spent so much time bickering with Cheng Bing.

A moment later, under the dark brown bench, a white sneaker tentatively nudged a black-and-white casual shoe with its toe.

Cheng Bing looked over.

Jiang Zhou awkwardly rubbed the tip of his nose and said, “Um… thanks for coming over. Let me treat you to lunch? There should be fewer people now.”

They were rarely this peaceful. Cheng Bing perhaps felt surprised; he stared at Jiang Zhou for a long time.

“What are you looking at.” Jiang Zhou looked away. He wasn’t used to this peaceful atmosphere with Cheng Bing either—it felt weird. His ears turned red, and his face took on a faint flush as he muttered, “You did help treat my wound. Even for enemies, there should be some reciprocity.”

Cheng Bing looked at the redness on his face and said flatly, “Is that so? But you seemed very resistant earlier.”

Bringing up old scores again. Jiang Zhou whispered, “Why are you so good at holding grudges? I don’t even hold grudges.”

He had generously forgiven Cheng Bing immediately this morning!

Cheng Bing said coolly, “Oh.”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

Jiang Zhou really couldn’t learn how to speak properly with Cheng Bing. After a moment of awkwardness, he finally got annoyed and said to him, “If you don’t want to go, then forget it.”

“Is that all the sincerity you have?” Cheng Bing asked.