After Differentiation, My Arch-nemesis Thinks I’m Fragrant - Chapter 38

The wilderness hung low.

On the spacious lawn that had witnessed the shooting scores of both sides earlier, the faint chirping of insects could be heard. As the breeze passed, the scent of grass wafted toward the tall building nearby.

Shu Youzhan and Zhao Qinglan walked side by side, maintaining a distance of about two fists between them—neither too close nor too far. Because the color of Zhao Qinglan’s military uniform was so striking, eyes constantly turned toward them along the way. Upon noticing that their expressions didn’t seem particularly familiar, onlookers revealed looks of strange confusion.

This eerie silence persisted until they reached the infirmary.

Shu Youzhan knocked on the door and, amidst the lingering scent of disinfectant, took the initiative to call out, “Dr. Lu…”

The sound of military boots stepped heavily onto the floor tiles, but there was no response from the room with the open door. A quick glance revealed the simple arrangement of tables and chairs, as well as a display cabinet filled with common medicines. However, as far as the eye could see, not a single soul was in sight.

Presumably, the doctor had gone to eat.

Fortunately, Zhao Qinglan’s injury wasn’t severe. Shu Youzhan had brought her here specifically; otherwise, the two of them would currently be sitting in a hospital emergency room.

Within the room of a few dozen square meters, the atmosphere between the two suddenly became much closer.

Shu Youzhan had entered first. Now, standing with her back to Zhao Qinglan, she paced a few steps but didn’t know what to say upon turning around. In truth, she still had many unanswered questions and didn’t know what Zhao Qinglan had been busy with. But right now, she was wrestling with her own pride—on one hand wanting to forget the previous unpleasantness, and on the other, brooding over her unannounced departure.

Her fingertips, hidden behind her back, couldn’t help but tighten. Shu Youzhan’s throat moved, and just as the internal tug-of-war grew most intense, she heard Zhao Qinglan speak up hesitantly from behind:

“Last time…”

“It’s nothing! I forgot!” Shu Youzhan turned around abruptly, seizing the topic with lightning speed. Her eyes blinked uneasily, but she quickly settled into a state of self-deceiving determination.

Seeing this, Zhao Qinglan felt a weight lift from her heart, and the corners of her lips curved into a visible arc.

She hadn’t even said anything yet.

Moreover, looking at Shu Youzhan’s appearance, she didn’t seem to have forgotten at all.

It wasn’t that she had forgotten; rather, she must have been thinking about it constantly. Seeing her habitual duplicity, Zhao Qinglan let out a soft sigh, took a step forward, and apologized sincerely, “Even if you forgot, I still need to apologize. I’m sorry. Last time was my fault; I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

Pausing, she added in an even gentler voice, “I thought you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

The longing that had been suppressed in extreme environments was like a sealed wine jar buried deep underground. After the emotions had fermented heavily, upon seeing the light of day again, it only took a small opening for the intoxicating fragrance to overflow.

Shu Youzhan looked everywhere—at the sky, at the ground—except at her. Biting her lip, she whispered, “I didn’t want to talk to you at first…”

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t had cold wars before.

Later, they had drifted apart because of it.

Now, even if history repeated itself, Shu Youzhan was certain she would be the winner. However, what was the use of winning?

She tilted her head, looking at the cold, gray medicine cabinet filled with various bottles and jars, yet her tone wasn’t as forceful as usual: “But if I don’t talk to you now, I don’t know how long you’ll disappear for next time.”

The latter part of her sentence was so quiet it was almost audible only to herself.

But this couldn’t be hidden from the sharp-eared Alpha. After all, the infirmary was so quiet—so quiet that she could almost hear each other’s heartbeats.

Whatever she gleaned from those words, Zhao Qinglan’s usually calm eyes suddenly froze. Then, a thick sense of surprise bloomed within them, as if the stars in the sky had fallen into a cold pool, lighting up the spring water.

She couldn’t control herself as she took a few steps toward Shu Youzhan.

“Youyou.”

She asked, “Can I give you a hug?”

Her tone suddenly became impatient, yet the trembling end of her voice betrayed her nervousness and apprehension.

The “No” at the tip of Shu Youzhan’s tongue became hesitant. She just turned to look at Zhao Qinglan and asked softly, “Why?”

Zhao Qinglan knew well that her lack of refusal was essentially an agreement. For the first time when the other was neither weak nor delirious, she gently raised her arms to pull her into an embrace. The thoughts of being afraid to scare her away, after more than half a semester of separation, surged through her blood. She couldn’t wait another second; she only wanted to vent and release.

She tilted her head slightly, her chin resting gently on the top of Shu Youzhan’s head. Being so close, the traces of their past intimacy hadn’t diminished. The scent of sleep lotus that had entered her dreams every night rushed truly into her nose, stirring all her restlessness.

Even though Shu Youzhan didn’t return the embrace, Zhao Qinglan was already satisfied. Her raspy voice carried a sigh: “Because I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Shu Youzhan’s fingertips at her side moved slightly.

Like an unintentional tremor.

She just lowered her eyes, likewise trying to keep her voice steady amidst Zhao Qinglan’s subtle floral scent—which carried a faint, indescribable hint of blood—yet she couldn’t hide that touch of inexplicable grievance:

“But when you left, you didn’t tell me.”

Zhao Qinglan thought of that night when she had edited the message many times on her phone but ultimately never sent it. She had originally intended to apologize at school the next day, but she was awakened by Zhao Xi’s people at 5 AM. By the time she thought to take out her phone on the spaceship, the signal was gone during the space jump.

“I…” Those reasons for explanation reached her lips but still turned into the palest apology: “I’m sorry.”

She said, “I thought you wouldn’t care.”

If she had known sooner that Shu Youzhan would also miss her.

Perhaps when her teammates were chatting about secret ways to find a signal, she would have acted like a soldier who broke discipline, braving endless snow just to receive a late message. Or, amidst the crackling static and howling wind, she would have shouted at the top of her lungs just to send a word of safety home.

Shu Youzhan didn’t know how to respond to that.

However, the ear closest to Zhao Qinglan’s lips turned red in that heat-enveloped breath.

…

Just as Shu Youzhan was about to ask about her recent situation, Zhao Qinglan suddenly turned her head to look toward the door. Simultaneously, a clear sound drifted in:

“Ahem.”

Hearing this, Shu Youzhan felt inexplicably guilty. She raised her hand to push Zhao Qinglan away, but the moment her palm touched the other’s shoulder, she gripped it lightly instead—as if she had suddenly realized that pushing her away might be hurtful.

Instead, it was Zhao Qinglan whose eyes brightened with a smile, and she proactively let her go.

The military doctor, Dr. Lu, walked in. After looking them both up and down, his gaze lingered on the stark contrast between their white and black military uniforms. He walked in a few steps and, as if having seen through everything, spoke leisurely:

“Well then, what’s the ailment?”

Shu Youzhan’s face turned a bit red under that gaze, but she pretended to be oblivious, saying in a muffled voice, “Her… her hand has some injuries…”

Zhao Qinglan explained, “Do you have any frostbite ointment?”

Dr. Lu glanced at the marks on the back of the hand she held up. Guessing at the extreme climates of certain planets, he didn’t ask much. He turned to take a tube of ointment from the cabinet, placed it on the table, and scribbled a slip to press down with it. He jerked his chin and said:

“Twice a day. Keep warm, wear gloves, and avoid contact with water.”

Zhao Qinglan thanked him, took the medicine and the slip, and took the initiative to walk out.

Shu Youzhan followed closely behind. As they were about to exit the door, the doctor called out to her from behind, “Little Shu.”

There was no one in this military camp who didn’t know her.

Shu Youzhan turned her head and saw Dr. Lu sitting in his chair, giving her a meaningful reminder: “There are few people near Building 4. Go back to the dormitory early at night.”

She was dazed for a few seconds.

She suddenly realized that those words sounded like a reminder for young lovers on how to avoid the eyes of others.

In an instant, heat surged from the soles of her feet to her forehead, and she didn’t even remember how she scrambled away.

…

“No training tonight?”

Zhao Qinglan noticed there were no people around. Only two low buildings, entwined with creepers, stood nearby. A few trees were rarely planted next to the buildings, though there were no flowers beneath them—only crookedly planted green onions and garlic.

She still had the ointment tucked in her pocket. Her gaze followed Shu Youzhan, who was walking slightly ahead of her. Although she was loath to part, she didn’t want the other to be punished because of her.

Shu Youzhan had her hands tucked in her pants pockets. As she turned to look at her, she walked backward:

“I performed well this afternoon. The battalion commander said I could have the whole night off today.”

Under the cover of night, Zhao Qinglan subtly hooked her lips.

She looked again at the scenery on both sides being swallowed by darkness, and the dim yellow streetlights that had turned on ahead of time. Watching to ensure there were no obstacles behind Shu Youzhan, she replied nonchalantly:

“Oh?”

“Then didn’t the battalion commander tell you that you can’t stay alone with an Alpha in such a remote place during your time off?”

Shu Youzhan stopped in her tracks and watched as she walked up to her. Their toes were almost touching. The other’s faint, dangerous pheromones—like those of a wolf in the jungle—fell over her, enveloping her. Yet she remained motionless, as if sensing no danger at all, looking up to trace the features of her face, only half of which was illuminated.

“Hmm? Why?”

Zhao Qinglan lowered her head slightly, the heat of her breath falling on the corner of the other’s lips, as if she were about to kiss her.

“Because—”

“You might be pinned in a corner and eaten up completely.”

Shu Youzhan curled her lips. Her right fingertips slipped into the other’s collar, pressing against the artery at the side of her neck. This action seemed somewhat transgressive, yet also like a bold provocation. She clearly felt the blood vessels beneath the skin she touched throbbing wildly, as if about to release a fierce beast.

Yet she still asked, “Then, would you do that?”

Zhao Qinglan’s throat moved.

She visibly swallowed.

Despite being so close, she closed her eyes, no longer looking at Shu Youzhan’s expression. Her voice was low and husky, as if stained with something, as she sighed, “I would.”

The smile at the corners of Shu Youzhan’s lips deepened. Like a mischievous child, despite performing such a provocative act, she seemed to have someone backing her up as she declared with arrogant fearlessness:

“You won’t.”

She said, “You like me; you won’t hurt me.”

Zhao Qinglan’s eyes moved. When she suddenly opened them, her long eyelashes fragmented the light entering her eyes. Her former coldness softened, like silver moonlight kissing a blade’s edge, about to flow into a clear spring.

She also laughed.

She was happy because the other finally understood her heart.

She was also joyful because Shu Youzhan was willing to believe in her.

And even more so, she was delighted that Shu Youzhan hadn’t pushed her away in the infirmary just now.

The hard ice that had formed between the two during those arguments and misunderstandings finally melted at this moment, even showing signs of warmth. Seeing Zhao Qinglan smile, Shu Youzhan couldn’t help but ask one of the questions hidden in her heart:

“Since… when did you start liking me?”

And just how many years have I, after all, been so oblivious?