After Transmigrating as a Man-Eater Omega, I Got the Protagonist Shou - Chapter 3

Qi Yan did not have the habit of treating his wounds. It wasn’t necessary, nor was it needed.

Throughout his upbringing, no one had ever asked if he was afraid; no one cared if he was in pain. His childhood was a perennial haze, covered by dark clouds, too painful to look back upon. Qi Yan was like a shard of glass tossed into a rainstorm, grinding himself into a silent blade over the long years.

When he was very young, his father, Qi Haisheng, used to drag him into the storage room behind the study, a cramped space less than two square meters. The moment the iron door slammed shut, darkness flooded in like cold water. At first, the young Qi Yan would pound on the door and wail, only to have his calves whipped into a bloody mess by Qi Haisheng’s belt.

“Make noise one more time, and you can die in there. Don’t ever come out.” Because of this, Qi Yan became cold and taciturn.

The air in the storage room was turbid, smelling of rust and dust. Sometimes Qi Haisheng would forget to let him out, and Qi Yan would curl up in the corner, counting the speed at which the spots of light leaking through the door crack moved. The longest he was ever locked away was for three whole days. He was so hungry his stomach cramped; his consciousness drifted, and his nerves went numb. In a daze, he would hear the sound of his mother’s high heels outside the door, but she never stopped her pace for him.

Even now, Qi Yan would wake up with a start on thundery nights, subconsciously reaching for the switch of the bedside lamp. It was as if he could never truly stand in the light; darkness followed him like a shadow. Just as Qi Haisheng had said while choking him back then: “My blood flows in your bones. You can forget about escaping this life.”

The figure of his mother, Lin Rui, was always enveloped in the scent of cheap perfume and the smell of blood. She had once been a famous socialite in North City. Qi Yan had seen photos of her youth in an old album, sporting fashionable curls and wearing a bright dress, smiling brilliantly at the entrance of a ballroom.

That was when Lin Rui met Qi Haisheng, a tall, thin man in a white shirt and gold-rimmed glasses who claimed to be a researcher. He gave her imported perfume, took her to high-end restaurants, and promised her a home in a gentle tone. Lin Rui married Qi Haisheng believing she was marrying for love.

Only after the marriage did Qi Haisheng reveal his true side. Domestic violence, alcoholism, gambling. Beneath that refined exterior lay a violent heart. Lin Rui’s bright dresses were gradually replaced by high-necked sweaters used to hide her bruises. Qi Yan remembered waking up in the middle of the night to see Lin Rui dabbing powder on her neck in front of the mirror. On the dressing table, there was always a half-finished bottle of low-quality liquor.

Lin Rui hated Qi Haisheng, but she found it hard to resist. She began to vent her twisted hatred onto Qi Yan. She would prick his cold, white, flawless skin with sharp needles or press glowing cigarette butts against his collarbone, saying with a smile: “This is the only way you’ll look like my child.” After he was beaten by school bullies, she would tear up his notebooks: “You’re a useless lowlife, just like your father.”

Finally, Lin Rui exhausted every effort to escape. Carrying her scars and a nearly frenzied state of mind, she decisively left Qi Yan behind. Later, Lin Rui hooked up with Pei Hongyuan, the father of North City First High’s school bully, Pei Yi. Qi Yan didn’t know how Pei Hongyuan and Lin Rui met, or when, or where. He only knew that from then on, Pei Yi had one more reason to lead a small group to target him. In Pei Yi’s words, Lin Rui was a homewrecker. She had never fulfilled her duties as a mother, yet Qi Yan bore the infamy for her.

Living with Qi Haisheng, who had offended many people in the streets and alleys, Qi Yan was often met with looks from the neighbors of the old North City alleys that were filled with stinging pity and secret excitement.

“Look, the son of Madman Qi is going to school again.” “This kid has filth in his bones. Better stay away.” “Poor students in his class, having a classmate like that.”

Walking through the alley with his washed-out backpack, Qi Yan could always hear the deliberately lowered discussions. Auntie Zhang, who sold breakfast, would throw his change onto the ground right in front of him. The son of the hardware store owner would lead a group of children to follow him, singing a modified nursery rhyme: “The Qi kid has no father to teach him, and his mommy ran away with someone else.”

In the winter of his second year of middle school, he had a fever of 39°C and tottered to the clinic to buy medicine. Bursts of laughter erupted from the mahjong parlor at the alley entrance.

“The little bastard is playing for sympathy again!” “Just like his mom, a real actor.” “The Qi families are all jinxes. You sure you want to take this patient? You might lose all your business later.”

When the clinic doctor pulled the stethoscope back from his collar, his gaze flickered: “How about you look elsewhere?”

Later, he curled up in an abandoned boiler room for the night, using snow to cool his forehead. By dawn, his notebooks had been torn to shreds by several drunks and scattered in a frozen puddle.

But what he truly remembered wasn’t the malice, but a certain morning. He caught Grandmother Li from across the street quietly stuffing fever medicine into his mailbox, only to be dragged back by her daughter-in-law: “Are you senile? Getting involved with that family will bring eight lifetimes of bad luck!”

The elderly woman’s clouded eyes met his for a second before she tremblingly hid the pills back in her apron pocket.

Perhaps the sharpest knife in the world is not just blatant hostility, but those tiny, insignificant sparks of kindness that are ruthlessly snuffed out. He often saw the disgust and fear they couldn’t hide in time when the neighbors suddenly went silent, as if he were a pathogen that would contaminate the air.

So, how much of the kindness before his eyes did he dare to believe? How much could he accept? After a brief moment of daze, a soul-deep indifference spread across Qi Yan’s eyes again. That Omega was probably a newcomer who didn’t understand him, which was why he tried to get close. Once he heard the rumors, he would only avoid him like the plague.

“Our school uses a rolling system. Those with good grades can roll into the elite class. But you have to rank in the top fifty of the grade. The people in the elite class are too freakish; there aren’t many students who manage to roll from a regular class to the elite one.”

Wen Ke enthusiastically explained the various systems of North City First High to Qiao Xingyin, including the rolling mechanism.

“By the way, how are your grades? To be able to transfer to our school, you must be pretty impressive.”

Qiao Xingyin smiled modestly: “Just average.”

“The teacher for Class 1 is a literal Old Nun. She watches their average scores more closely than anything. It’s actually good to be in our class. At least our homeroom teacher, Old Xu, is quite easygoing. The atmosphere here is much more relaxed,” Wen Ke comforted him. Midway through, he noticed several unusual stares. “Look at those girls outside the window.”

In the hallway, girls in groups of twos and threes were pretending to pass by, but their eyes frequently darted into the classroom. Some were even holding up phones, the lenses clearly pointed in their direction.

Qiao Xingyin was slightly startled. Although such scenes occurred occasionally before he transferred, he had only been at North City First High for two days, including his leave time. The only classmate he knew was Wen Ke.

Wen Ke said with certainty: “They’re definitely here for you. It can’t be for me, right?” In his mind, with Qiao Xingyin’s stunning looks, becoming famous throughout the grade within a week wouldn’t be a problem at all. Knowing he was also in the shot, Wen Ke deliberately smoothed his hair: “I’m basking in your light, getting a taste of what it feels like to be a popular figure.”

However, Wen Ke noticed that Qiao Xingyin wasn’t arrogant about it; he was actually spacing out. “Qiao Xingyin?”

Qiao Xingyin snapped out of it: “Hmm.” He was just wondering: the medicine he gave Qi Yan, did he use it?

A few minutes later, the class monitor came to inform him to go to the teacher’s office. The Class 8 homeroom teacher was named Xu Changqing, a man in his forties who taught math. He wore glasses and had the look of an ordinary middle-aged man.

Since it was his first talk with Qiao Xingyin, his tone was very gentle: “I was supposed to talk to you a few days ago, but it coincided with your differentiation period. Is everything okay with your differentiation?”

Qiao Xingyin nodded: “It’s quite good.”

Xu Changqing nodded slowly: “Good. Actually, at this stage, grades aren’t the most important thing; physical and mental health are. Once you ensure there are no psychological issues, then strive to improve your grades.”

Qiao Xingyin recalled Wen Ke’s words, “At least our Old Xu is quite easygoing,” and a look of admiration appeared in his eyes. “Teacher Xu, do all the teachers at North City First High have this philosophy?”

Xu Changqing felt a bit guilty under Qiao Xingyin’s clear, bright eyes: “Ahem. Most of them do.”

The corners of Qiao Xingyin’s lips curved slightly as he praised: “It’s much better than my previous school.”

In his heart, however, he was thinking: I wonder what the Old Nun of the elite class thinks. The rumors about Qi Yan in school were already so bad that even the kind Wen Ke believed most of them. Why did no one care about Qi Yan’s mental and physical health?

Flattered, Xu Changqing suddenly felt a surge of pride in the North City First High teaching team. “Our class isn’t the elite class, but based on past experience, the admission rate for top-tier universities can reach 80% to 90%. The teaching pace here in North City is quite fast. They already studied for a month in advance during the summer break, so you might need to plan how to catch up. Do you have any small goals?”

Well, does getting into Class 1 count? Qiao Xingyin answered internally. But saying that would inevitably dampen his new teacher’s enthusiasm. Qiao Xingyin phrased it diplomatically: “I’ll strive not to drag down the class average.”

Xu Changqing said earnestly: “I’ve looked at your previous scores. I think if you work hard, there’s a good chance you could rank in the top ten of our class.”

Although Xu Changqing said he valued mental health, his words still revealed a pursuit of grades. Qiao Xingyin blinked and obediently agreed: “I will work hard.”

With his fair complexion and long eyelashes, he looked like a very well-behaved student who had been a teacher’s favorite since childhood. Xu Changqing grew more satisfied the more he looked at Qiao Xingyin, his smile becoming increasingly kind. “Are you basically adjusting to life in Class 8 these past two days? If there’s anything you’re not used to, you must tell me in time.”

As Xu Changqing spoke, Qiao Xingyin caught a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. Qi Yan had come to the office for some reason. He was holding a form, likely to hand in a return slip. The youth had handsome features and a sharp profile. He wore a neatly ironed school uniform, and a section of his cold, white neck was visible at the collar. His figure was tall and slender, and his aura was cold and sharp, making him exceptionally striking.

Qiao Xingyin was about to answer Xu Changqing’s question when he suddenly felt a heat in his nose.

He had a nosebleed. This must be a coincidence; it’s definitely not because I was struck by Qi Yan’s handsomeness, Qiao Xingyin thought.

Consequently, he seemed to have answered Xu Changqing through his actions: he indeed had something he wasn’t adjusted to.

“Oh!” The female teacher at the next desk was the first to notice. She quickly pulled out some tissues and handed them over. “The weather in the north is dry; southern kids often react this way when they come here.”

Xu Changqing also stood up nervously: “Quick, tilt your head back. Don’t let the blood flow back down.”

Qiao Xingyin took the tissues and calmly pressed the bridge of his nose.

“It’s quite good,” Qiao Xingyin answered the teacher’s previous question softly while stopping the bleeding, his voice sounding muffled due to his tilted head. “In the northern climate, clothes dry quickly.”

Qi Yan noticed the commotion, and his steps slightly faltered as he left the office.

Outside the window, the sky grew increasingly gloomy, with heavy clouds pressing low. After Qi Yan left, another teacher in the office pushed up his glasses and looked at a warning message on his phone: “The weather forecast says there will be a heavy rainstorm in an hour.”

Hearing this, several other teachers began to chat: “That’s North City for you. It doesn’t rain often, but when it does, it pours. It’s quite annoying.”

“The drainage system in some streets isn’t very good. During the heavy rain last year, the water on the road at the school gate reached the calves. We must remind the students to be careful on their way home.”

“Old Lin, didn’t you say the umbrella racks at the back of the classroom were useless since North City lacks rain? They’re perfect for a situation like this.”

Xu Changqing said kindly to Qiao Xingyin: “You probably didn’t bring an umbrella, right? Take advantage of this break to go out and buy one.”

Although school rules forbade going out during breaks, a special permit from the homeroom teacher was another matter. This flexible and humane treatment warmed Qiao Xingyin’s heart. He bowed slightly: “Thank you, Teacher Xu.”

Walking out of the school gate, the leaden sky looked as if it had been brushed with a stroke of ink-soaked wolf-hair. The wind hit him with a damp breath. Qiao Xingyin hesitated for a moment at the convenience store by the school gate before eventually buying two umbrellas. He had a faint premonition that, given the malice the Class 1 students held toward Qi Yan, Qi Yan’s umbrella would not appear on the rack in one piece.

When the bell rang at the end of school in the afternoon, Qiao Xingyin went to Class 1 immediately. The sky was dim, casting a gray filter over everything. Most students in the classroom were still packing their bags, but Qi Yan was already gone.

Looking in from the back door, the medicine he had given Qi Yan was sitting untouched in his drawer. The packaging wasn’t opened, and the sticky note showed no creases; it looked as fresh as if it had just been torn from the pad.

Qiao Xingyin was not discouraged. Instead, he put the ointment back into the waterproof bag. If Qi Yan hadn’t accepted it, he would just give it again.

The rain grew heavier.

Qi Yan stood under the eaves of the teaching building, looking at the ruined umbrella in his hand. The black canopy had been slashed with a sharp object, leaving a hideous gash. Two ribs were snapped cleanly, a calculated act of malice. He expressionlessly stroked the broken ribs. His fingertip was nicked by a sharp metal edge, and a bead of blood seeped out. He stared at that speck of red for two seconds before wiping it away.

I won’t die from walking home in the rain anyway, he thought, lifting his foot to step into the curtain of rain.

“Qi Yan!”

At that moment, a clear and pleasant youthful voice pierced through the sound of the rain. Qiao Xingyin came running, holding a sky-blue umbrella, one shoulder of his school jacket soaked by the rain. He stopped in front of Qi Yan, breathing slightly hard, droplets of water hanging from the tips of his dark hair.

“Let’s go together,” Qiao Xingyin said, tilting the umbrella toward Qi Yan.

Qi Yan’s gaze lingered on the clean blue canopy for a moment. There were small clouds printed on it, looking exceptionally bright in the rain, forming a sharp contrast with the maliciously destroyed black umbrella in his hand.

“No need.” Qi Yan looked away, his voice deep and cold.

Qiao Xingyin didn’t back down; instead, he took half a step forward. “The rain is too heavy. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t use an umbrella.”

Qi Yan’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, his jawline stiff and tense. “Stay away from me.”

However, his coldness didn’t seem to affect Qiao Xingyin at all. Qiao Xingyin remained smiling. “Sure. Just take this umbrella, and I’ll stay far away from you.”

As he spoke, like a magic trick, Qiao Xingyin produced a second umbrella from his backpack. He made up an excuse: “What a coincidence. This morning I thought my brother might pick me up, so I brought an extra umbrella. But he’s not coming.”

Qi Yan: “…”

To make Qi Yan accept his kindness without guilt, Qiao Xingyin pretended to propose a trade, pointing at Qi Yan’s original umbrella: “Since yours is broken anyway, why not give it to me? We happen to need umbrella ribs for a craft project in art class.”

His smile was too bright, and the rain reflected tiny sparks of light on his eyelashes. His slightly curved eyes seemed to hold the warmth of an entire sunny day.

“I’ll give this one to you.”

Without waiting for Qi Yan to refuse, Qiao Xingyin pressed the umbrella into his hand. At the same time, he stuffed a waterproof bag into his arms.

“By the way, Qi Yan, you forgot something.”

Qi Yan frowned and opened the bag. Inside was the unopened ointment, along with iodine, bandages, and disinfectant wipes. Instead of being angry, Qiao Xingyin had good-naturedly repacked them together and handed them to him personally.

Qi Yan: “…”

Qiao Xingyin after handing over the items, he left as promised. By the time Qi Yan snapped out of it, Qiao Xingyin’s figure had already disappeared into the rain. The boy’s reminder still echoed in his ears: “If it gets infected, it will leave a scar.”

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