I Can’t Keep Being a Scumbag Anymore—What Should I Do? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 20

Dusk.

The door to the equipment room at Nancheng High was locked from the inside.

Autumn was in full swing, yet the air inside the equipment room felt as though it were simmering with heat.

The boy’s hands pressed weakly against the dilapidated door panels, his neck slightly bowed. Because he was so slender, the curve of his shoulder blades was strikingly prominent beneath his thin shirt.

A lean arm reached past his shoulder, encircling him firmly in a restrictive embrace.

The difference in their physical stature was too great; the boy had no way to break free. He could only follow the other’s lead, reluctantly offering up a stretch of his snowy neck to the other’s lips.

“Before we left, Li Zhu caught a glimpse of you.” The person behind him leaned close to his ear, whispering softly, “What do you think was going through his mind?”

They were too close. Hot breath fanned across his earlobe, and Ran Muqiu felt a wave of numbness spread from his ear down his neck. He pouted and shrunk his neck, trying to pull away.

The other man let out a dissatisfied “Tch.” He freed one hand to pinch the boy’s slender neck—like one would scruff a cat while the other hand braced against the door beside him, pinning him in.

“Speak. What do you think he was thinking?”

His tone was seemingly nonchalant, but his breathing was rapid and shallow.

The person who was usually the most arrogant and dismissive of rules was wearing his full school uniform today. However, the drawstring at his waist was loosely and messily undone, and several buttons at his collar had been torn open during the boy’s easily suppressed struggle. Combined with his current actions, he looked like a dangerous, dissipated profligate.

Ran Muqiu said nothing.

He felt absolutely miserable.

Since that night at “Twilight,” Feng Qin’s Heartbreak Value had spiked so much that he seemed to have undergone a “blackening” transformation. Bullying Ran Muqiu once wasn’t enough; he had become obsessed, refusing to let him go even at school.

But Ran Muqiu wasn’t one to take a loss. Every time Feng Qin bullied him, he would intentionally mention Li Zhu’s name, seizing the chance to farm a massive amount of Heartbreak Value.

He couldn’t be bullied for nothing, after all.

Consequently, Feng Qin’s Heartbreak Value was now nearing seventy.

However, a high Heartbreak Value came with side effects.

The most obvious was that Feng Qin’s methods of bullying Ran Muqiu became more excessive each time, while the threshold to trigger further Heartbreak Value growth became higher and higher.

The few words Ran Muqiu occasionally mentioned about Li Zhu no longer seemed to work; aside from a momentary coldness in his expression, Feng Qin had gradually learned to laugh it off. His Heartbreak Value barely moved, as if he felt the little verbal tricks were no longer worth his jealousy.

Ran Muqiu was starting to get a headache.

Seemingly dissatisfied with the boy’s silence, Feng Qin lightly bit his earlobe, slowly grinding it with his teeth as he urged him to speak.

The boy’s skin was thin all over, prone to leaving startling marks with the slightest provocation. After that night at Twilight, Feng Qin didn’t dare bite him too hard anymore.

Fortunately, his earlobes were very soft; a light bite would leave a soft indentation, and once covered by his hair, it was hard to see any traces of a kiss. Thus, aside from the lips, Feng Qin had developed an obsession with this spot.

Ran Muqiu sniffled and turned his head away, his fair ears flushing a deep red—whether from the biting or the shame, it was hard to tell. He whispered, “Li Zhu, Li Zhu was probably thinking you’re a pervert.”

Because you are!

Ran Muqiu thought aggrievedly: The equipment room is clearly one of the classic scenes for the protagonists in the original script. Why am I the one stuck here getting nibbled on.

Moreover, he had mentioned Li Zhu’s name repeatedly just now, yet Feng Qin’s Heartbreak Value remained stagnant. He grew even more dejected and rested his forehead against the door.

The door panel wasn’t soft; his forehead hit it with a crisp thwack. Ran Muqiu nearly cried from the pain. As he reached up to rub the spot, he felt like the most pathetic “Scum Gong” in the world.

Before his hand could reach, a hand reached out from behind, carefully lifting his head and sliding a palm underneath to cushion his forehead.

“Are you stupid?”

The boy’s voice was low and raspy, laced with a laugh. If one listened closely, there was a hint of tender affection in it—so much so that Ran Muqiu fell into a brief daze.

It was as if the other person wasn’t humiliating him, and the kisses weren’t for revenge—but as if he truly liked the person in his arms.

But Ran Muqiu had self-awareness. He knew his role in this world was that of a “Cannon Fodder Scum Gong” with a repulsive personality. Furthermore, Feng Qin’s Heartbreak Value was already so high due to jealousy.

Only someone with a broken brain would stop liking the perfect Protagonist Shou to like a piece of trash like me, right?

He quickly dismissed the absurd thought.

After an entire PE period and an extra twenty minutes, Ran Muqiu finally managed to escape the equipment room. His legs were weak, and he nearly stumbled after only two steps.

The bell for the next class had already rung. Returning to the classroom now would surely draw the attention of the entire class. Thinking that Li Zhu might be among them, Ran Muqiu felt a flicker of guilt.

He thought for a moment and decided to head to Lu Min’s office to reclaim his phone.

He stood at the door and knocked. The man looked up immediately.

At school, Lu Min wore a suit and tie with his hair perfectly styled. He had returned to his “refined and scholarly” persona, a far cry from the man who had seemed to blend into the dark neon of the nightclub a week ago.

Ran Muqiu shuffled in, avoiding eye contact. After stating his purpose, he kept his head lowered. Thus, he failed to notice the gaze Lu Min fixed upon him.

After a long silence, Ran Muqiu saw a slender hand open a drawer and hand over the phone. He let out a sigh of relief, took it, and whispered a “Thank you, Teacher” before turning to leave.

“Ran Muqiu.”

The man’s voice sounded from behind him.

“Hmm?” Ran Muqiu instinctively stopped and looked back.

Lu Min rested one hand on the edge of the desk, his gaze sweeping over the boy before landing on his slightly swollen eyelids.

Ran Muqiu had large eyes and deep double eyelids; any slight swelling was obvious. Especially now, they were tinged with a soft, tender pink—clear evidence of having cried hard not long ago.

Silence hung in the air.

Ran Muqiu was puzzled, but because he was still a bit intimidated by Lu Min after the nightclub incident, he asked softly, “Teacher, is there something else?”

His lips were also pink and glistening, looking as though they had been sucked and chewed upon.

Lu Min’s eyes darkened. Realizing the boy was growing flustered, he took a deep breath and forced himself to look away, staring aimlessly at a painting behind Ran Muqiu.

“If you.” Lu Min composed himself, his expression returning to its usual flat indifference. He paused. “If you encounter any difficulties in your studies or life, you can tell me.”

“Oh.” Ran Muqiu blinked. “Thank you, Teacher, but I don’t have any difficulties for now.”

“Truly?”

Ran Muqiu nodded, clutching his phone tightly.

Lu Min noticed the boy’s defensive gesture and furrowed his brow slightly. He said nothing more, waving him out before lowering his head to continue grading papers.

Ran Muqiu bolted.

Even after leaving the office, he was still a bit confused.

Since when did Lu Min become the helpful type?

Unlike Feng Qin—who was a defiant, cynical youth from a wealthy family—Lu Min, despite his privileged background, had been raised with strict discipline. He was the “High Mountain Flower” in the eyes of the students; almost no one dared speak to him after class.

The only exception was his treatment of the Protagonist Shou. But even his concern for Li Zhu was always restrained; otherwise, the Shou wouldn’t have remained oblivious to his feelings until the very end of the story.

In any case, he wasn’t the type of teacher who would show concern to a regular student—especially a troublemaker and ask if he had “difficulties in life.”

Could he have found out I’m secretly bullying Li Zhu?

At that thought, Ran Muqiu quickened his pace, terrified that Lu Min would change his mind and call his parents after all.

Inside the office.

Lu Min held a fountain pen, yet the tip hadn’t touched the paper for a long time.

Looking at Ran Muqiu earlier, the words that almost slipped out were actually: “If anyone is bullying you.”

But the words caught in his throat. He felt that the word “bullying” carried too much of a suggestive, intimate connotation. If his tone wasn’t handled perfectly, it might expose illicit thoughts he couldn’t afford to show.

So he swallowed them back.

Lu Min stared at the student’s homework, his mind wandering—a rare occurrence. He recalled the photo on his friend’s phone screen after they had left “Twilight.”

Aside from solving physics problems, Lu Min never knew his gaze could be so focused. And in that photo, his eyes looked as though they could hold the other person entirely.

But he’s a teacher.

But they are teacher and student.

Lu Min lowered his eyes and drew a shallow checkmark on the homework with his red pen.

By the time he got his phone back, class was nearly over. Ran Muqiu didn’t want to linger, intending to slip away before the halls filled up.

However, as soon as he stepped out of the school gates, he saw a familiar black-haired boy leaning against the wall. He was carrying his backpack over one shoulder, standing quietly as if waiting for someone.

He had skipped class too.

Perhaps it was because they hadn’t faced each other in quite some time, but Ran Muqiu felt that the other boy looked a little different than before.

Ran Muqiu’s footsteps faltered. His gaze shifted instinctively, searching for a way to double back and take another route.

But Li Zhu had already spotted him. With a slight furrow of his brow, he quickly caught up.

One in front and one behind, they both walked with hurried strides.

Ran Muqiu walked faster and faster, as if a ghost were snapping at his heels, nearly breaking into a run. But Li Zhu’s legs were longer; in a few steps, he had closed the gap and reached out to catch Ran Muqiu by the wrist.

Ran Muqiu struggled but couldn’t break free. Just as he was about to speak, the other boy beat him to it.

“Coming to my place tonight?”

This line, sounding far too much like the opening to a specific kind of scene, left Ran Muqiu dazed for a second. He instinctively countered, “To your place, to do what?”

The swelling on the boy’s eyelids hadn’t fully subsided yet. With his curled lashes and dazed expression, he looked incredibly soft—the kind of person who was easy to bully.

Li Zhu watched him for a moment before saying, “You’re the sponsor. Naturally, you can do whatever you want.”

“Besides, I’ve already had my eighteenth birthday.” The corners of Li Zhu’s lips seemed to quirk up ever so slightly. Gripping the boy’s slender wrist, he said softly, “You don’t have to worry about breaking the law anymore.”

Likely because he had been dragged into the equipment room and bullied by Feng Qin for so long, Ran Muqiu was still feeling a bit muddled. His brain was working slowly.

At first, he didn’t register what Li Zhu was saying, nor did he understand why the subject of an eighteenth birthday had come up. And what did being eighteen have to do with breaking the law? The topic had shifted far too abruptly.

Wait.

About a month ago, he seemed to—actually, he definitely had discussed the legalities of doing “certain things” to a minor with Li Zhu, using it as an excuse to dodge the other’s advances.

So, the fact that he was now proactively mentioning he was an adult meant?

Ran Muqiu’s ears and cheeks flushed a deep, burning red in rapid succession.

A faint trace of amusement surfaced in Li Zhu’s eyes.

With his face crimson, Ran Muqiu stammered, “Wha—what are you. I-I’m not that kind of person!”