After Helping the Protagonist Escape From a Madman, I Became His Target [Transmigration Novel] - Chapter 22

Shen Luyang originally intended to observe for a moment longer, but seeing Peng Jun take a hit made him lose his patience. He strode forward.

The group of grown men clearly hadn’t expected someone to have the guts to charge in solo against ten in this godforsaken corner; they all had their backs turned to him. As Shen Luyang approached, he scrutinized their aura. They didn’t look like mere street thugs.

Having guessed their nature, he didn’t plan on throwing punches immediately. Instead, he kept his distance and called out, “Peng Jun?”

The leader, a middle-aged man with a prominent scar on his face, turned around at the sound. He looked fierce with darkened skin and a messy, unkempt appearance, but his eyes were steady and calm. The way he looked at Shen Luyang gave him the fleeting illusion of being stared down by a wolf.

Shen Luyang now knew what he was dealing with. He pointed at Peng Jun who was sprawled on the ground with a bleeding lip—and flashed a smile. “Brothers, this kid is like a younger brother to me. May I ask how he managed to offend you all?”

The scarred man finally looked at him properly, sizing him up. His voice was very low. “Your brother?”

Shen Luyang admitted it readily. “That’s right. Kids are young and foolish; it’s inevitable they’ll bump into the wrong people. I hope you can show some leniency.” He shrugged with a nonchalant, playboy air, perfectly mimicking a rich second-generation brat. “After all, anything that can be solved with money isn’t really a problem, right?”

The lackey next to the scarred man—the tall one who had just slapped Peng Jun—sneered at this. “His mother, who doesn’t have many days left, borrowed 400,000 for chemotherapy. With interest, it’s now 800,000. Can you pay that back?”

Shen Luyang’s eyes narrowed slightly. Is this interest rate rolling down from the top of Mount Everest? What was this silly kid thinking, borrowing from people like this?

“Asking me for it so suddenly, I really can’t produce 800,000 right now,” Shen Luyang said. Before the tall man could lose his temper, he turned to Peng Jun. “What were the terms when you borrowed the money?”

Peng Jun clutched his throat and tried to stand up several times without success. Leaning against the wall with pale lips, he gritted his teeth and said, “Repay… one-tenth every month.”

“One-tenth. That’s 80,000.” Shen Luyang pulled out his phone. “Did you bring the contract?”

The tall man started to speak again but was cut off by the scarred leader. “You’re going to pay for him?”

“I’ll pay the first month’s installment. Give me some time for the rest; I don’t keep that much cash on hand,” Shen Luyang said dismissively. He walked through the crowd as if it were nothing, reached Peng Jun, and helped him up. After checking him over, he turned back to the scarred man. “In the future, come to me. The kid still needs to go to school; it’d be hard to explain if his hands got injured.”

Protected behind Shen Luyang’s back, Peng Jun’s eyes were bloodshot. He kept his head down, his fists clenched tight.

After paying the 80,000 and taking a receipt, the scarred man’s lackey demanded Shen Luyang’s phone number before leaving. Only then did the situation temporarily settle.

There was another reason Peng Jun had been so defenseless: he was running a fever, and his breath was scorching hot. Supporting him out of the alley, Shen Luyang asked, “Where’s the nearest clinic? I’m not familiar with this area.”

Peng Jun’s jawline was tense. The contours of his teenage face hadn’t fully filled out yet, but he looked weighed down by a burden too heavy to bear. He kept his eyes lowered, struggling to maintain his composure. “Why?” he asked hoarsely.

Shen Luyang looked at him. “Why what?”

Peng Jun wouldn’t look at him. “…Why help me?”

Shen Luyang hadn’t overthought it. He answered offhandedly, “Because I’m very rich, because you’re my student, and because I find you particularly likeable. Are those enough reasons?”

Peng Jun turned his face away. After a long silence, he muttered, “Sucker.”

Shen Luyang arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

After asking an older lady for a clinic that was still open during the National Day break, Shen Luyang drove Peng Jun over. If it weren’t for his search for that hidden roast duck shop, he wouldn’t have known Lanjiang City still had such remote corners. It looked remarkably like the “black clinics” he had visited as a child over a decade ago.

The clinic was tucked away in a maze of winding alleys. A small wooden board painted white hung outside the door, with the word “Clinic” written in red. Much of the paint had peeled away, and the red oil paint had dripped down in several places. It didn’t look like the kind of place that could actually save a life.

Shen Luyang stood at the door, hesitating. “Maybe we should find another place?”

Peng Jun shot an impatient look at the entrance. “I can’t walk anymore.”

“Alright, then,” Shen Luyang said, supporting him inside.

The courtyard was fairly tidy, with several pots of crown-of-thorns planted by the door. Despite the drop in temperature over the last few days, the small red flowers were blooming vibrantly. Inside, the air conditioning was on, and a wave of heat hit Shen Luyang’s face as they entered. At the sound of their arrival, a white-haired grandmother who looked to be over sixty walked out from the inner room.

Shen Luyang pointed at Peng Jun and smiled gently. “Doctor, my brother is hurt. Can you patch him up? He’s also running a fever.”

The doctor put on her glasses, gave Peng Jun’s wounds a basic treatment, took his temperature, and finally concluded, “He needs an IV drip.”

Shen Luyang pressed down on Peng Jun’s shoulder, ignoring his protests. He nodded. “Fine. Let’s start the drip.”

Because of the cold snap, the ward was full. The two of them were assigned to a small partitioned area—the doctor’s usual rest spot. Now, it was just the teacher and his student.

Shen Luyang touched the boy’s forehead; it was still burning. “Are you hungry? I should have bought some food on the way. What do you want to eat? I’ll see if I can order delivery.”

Peng Jun kept his head turned away and sniffed. “Not hungry.”

Shen Luyang saw right through him. Using his phone to set the location, he ordered two bowls of wontons. Only then did he set the phone down and say conversationally, “How did you end up owing so much money?”

Peng Jun knew the question was coming. He had been debating whether to tell him the whole way here, and only now did he make up his mind. He pressed his lips together and spoke in a pale, simple tone. “My mom is sick. She needs chemotherapy every week, and the medical bills were too much. My dad listened to a relative and went to them for a loan. At first, it was 10,000, then 20,000, and the interest was very low. But later, when my dad started borrowing more, the interest suddenly doubled.”

Shen Luyang had guessed as much. These unregulated loans were almost always scams.

“My dad couldn’t pay it back, but my mom still needed treatment, so he had to keep borrowing… This January, my dad had a sudden brain hemorrhage… he passed away. They couldn’t get the money from him, so they came for me.”

“Teacher Shen,” Peng Jun suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes filled with a teenager’s stubbornness. “I’ll pay you back. Don’t deal with them; they’re just a bunch of vampires.”

Shen Luyang chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “You definitely have to pay me back; I never said I’d let you off. As for them being vampires. They won’t be sucking anything from me.”

This was the cruel disparity of the world. The amount of money that could crush a family into pieces was merely the price of a car Shen Luyang might buy on a whim—a purchase that wouldn’t even have a real impact on his life. At most, his father might get angry and give him a lecture, and that would be the end of it.

Peng Jun furrowed his brow. “…You didn’t need to go this far.”

Shen Luyang nudged the boy’s legs aside to make some room for himself, leaned back against the wall, and let out a lazy yawn. “What does ‘need’ have to do with it? You needed help, I happened to see it and had the means, so I helped. Isn’t that fine?”

Peng Jun remained silent for a long time. Suddenly remembering something he had heard Li Shenyu mention that day, he said instinctively, “Do you have a self-sacrificing personality?”

Shen Luyang froze, then looked intrigued. “Oho, you know quite a lot. Care to explain that to your teacher?”

Peng Jun didn’t remember all the complex details, only the parts that had made an impression. He sized Shen Luyang up as he spoke. “Putting yourself last, helping others to find happiness, having no boundaries just to please people, taking any hit or insult without complaint…”

Shen Luyang actually laughed, cutting him off. “First of all, I never put myself last. Helping others does bring me happiness, but if someone hit me or insulted me and I still helped them… wouldn’t that just mean I was crazy?” He paused, then suddenly leaned in and looked into Peng Jun’s eyes. “Do you want to try and take a swing at me?”

Before Peng Jun could answer, he added with a look of hesitation, “Maybe that’s not a good idea. You weren’t my match even when your limbs were healthy. If we fought now, wouldn’t that just be a massacre? I am a teacher of the people, after all.”

Peng Jun: “…”

He was now certain Shen Luyang did not have a self-sacrificing personality. No one could be more irritating when they spoke! “Pleasing people,” my foot!

Shen Luyang leaned back again, scrolling through the delivery app. Student Peng Jun’s question actually had some merit. In his past life, people often said to him, “Are you stupid? What do you get out of helping others?”

Shen Luyang didn’t quite understand why he shouldn’t do something if it had no downside, even if there was no personal gain. From the orphanage to university, whenever someone needed help, he’d reach out if he was able. Of course, if the other person was ungrateful, Shen Luyang wasn’t so maladjusted that he’d keep insisting on helping. People often joked and called him a “Living Bodhisattva,” saying he was a rare, natural do-gooder.

It was true; Shen Luyang was naturally more willing to help, more willing to take responsibility, and more capable of giving without expecting a return. But he was also picky; he only did it for people he found likeable, because it made him happy. That kind of personality was fundamentally different from the self-sacrificing type Peng Jun mentioned.

“Teacher Shen,” Peng Jun called out suddenly.

“Hmm?” Shen Luyang sat up. “Need to use the bathroom?”

“No,” Peng Jun pulled out his phone, speaking with business-like formality. “Let’s make a record of the debt. I owe you money.”

Shen Luyang didn’t refuse. “I’ll have a lawyer come see you one of these days, after I’ve settled the rest of the amount.”

Peng Jun, used to a hard life, saw 800,000 as an astronomical figure. He asked warily, “Do you really have that much money?”

Shen Luyang’s phone suddenly rang. Outside, the delivery driver’s clear voice rang out: “Delivery for the Great Philanthropist Shen!”

Shen Luyang stood up, waving a hand as he walked out. “Small change. For a philanthropist like me, money is just a worldly possession.”

Peng Jun: “…”

Why did he suddenly feel a strong sense of unreliability?

Shen Luyang borrowed a small table from the doctor, placed it on the hospital bed, and sat across from Peng Jun to eat wontons. Halfway through the meal, Peng Jun suddenly sniffed the air and looked at the back of Shen Luyang’s neck. “The pheromones on you are a mess.”

Shen Luyang froze. To him, pheromones were like a human suddenly growing wings—he had no idea how to fly. He often forgot he was an Alpha and had never smelled himself closely. He swallowed a wonton, sounding curious. “What do you mean by ‘a mess’?”

Peng Jun sniffed more intently. Instinct made him lean back slightly. “Like chocolate, but also like wine… boozy chocolate?”

At the mention of “wine,” Shen Luyang’s first thought was Xie Weihan’s pheromones. Truly an S-class Alpha; so much time had passed, and the scent was still on him.

“Oh,” Shen Luyang lied nonchalantly. “I went to a bar yesterday. Do you have the nose of a dog, Student Peng?”

Peng Jun scoffed, poking a wonton skin with his chopstick. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I can’t tell the difference between pheromones and actual wine? The school doesn’t have a rule saying teachers can’t date; why are you so busy denying it?”

This misunderstanding had just rocketed from the Himalayas to the Pacific Ocean. Shen Luyang was briefly flustered for a couple of seconds. It seemed he really needed to ask Doctor Fang for some pheromone-masking medicine; otherwise, his “business” with Xie Weihan was bound to leak sooner or later.

He himself was straight as a steel beam and didn’t care much, but Teacher Xie was gay; he definitely wouldn’t be happy about his secrets being exposed. If the man got into a bad mood and hurt someone or broke the law… that would be truly terrifying.

“Do you think your teacher is the type,” Shen Luyang said after a pause, his face perfectly calm, “who would have a girlfriend and not brag about it to you?”

Peng Jun fell silent. But in his mind, if the scents were blended to the point where you couldn’t even distinguish the specific pheromones, what could it be other than an intimate relationship?

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