I Can’t Keep Being a Scumbag Anymore—What Should I Do? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 9

Ran Muqiu: ????

Ran Muqiu was a little bewildered.

Brother, do you have the wrong person?

And that sentence Li Zhu just said definitely never appeared in the original script!

In the original story, the relationship between the School Bully Gong and the Protagonist Shou seemed, on the surface, like the “Scum Gong” held all the power. In reality, however, the Protagonist Shou was the one who always had the upper hand emotionally.

The Protagonist Shou kept his heart under lock and key; even when faced with the “crematorium” phase—where the humbled School Bully desperately tried to win him back—he never showed even a flicker of hesitation.

So, what on earth was happening now?

Ran Muqiu lifted his head, cautiously glancing back and forth between the two.

The two boys stood facing each other, the atmosphere becoming distinctly charged.

Ran Muqiu looked left and right. Aside from noticing that neither of them looked particularly happy, he was surprised to find that, in terms of height, Li Zhu wasn’t actually any shorter than Feng Qin.

It was just that Li Zhu was leaner. Standing next to a built athlete like Feng Qin, he inevitably looked a bit delicate by comparison.

This must be the “size difference” the original novel kept emphasizing.

Thinking about the contexts in which the phrase “size difference” usually appeared in the original text, Ran Muqiu’s ears turned red for some reason. His eyes flickered, and he accidentally locked gazes with Feng Qin.

Feng Qin stared at the boy’s flushing ears. He tilted his chin up expressionlessly and asked, “Are you still going to the infirmary?”

Only then did Ran Muqiu remember the dull ache in his shoulder blade. “I—”

“Infirmary? You’re injured?” Li Zhu’s voice suddenly cut in from behind him.

Feng Qin paused, his gaze lifting to meet Li Zhu’s. His expression grew cold again.

Ran Muqiu: “…”

What is with this vibe?

Is the first meeting between the Protagonist Gong and Shou always this awkward?

Feng Qin stared at Li Zhu for a few seconds before finally looking away. He looked down at Ran Muqiu and asked, “Your friend?”

Ran Muqiu: “!”

Feng Qin was definitely starting to suspect his relationship with Li Zhu.

Thinking about it, it made sense; Li Zhu’s “I missed you” was far too out of character.

While Ran Muqiu couldn’t entirely grasp Li Zhu’s motive, he guessed it had to be related to their “sponsorship” arrangement.

Li Zhu could be quite literal-minded. After Ran Muqiu told him once that he wanted a kiss, the second time, Li Zhu had pounced without even asking.

This sudden declaration was probably because Ran Muqiu had said something offhand while trying to farm “Heartbreak Value,” and Li Zhu had misinterpreted it again.

But regardless, Feng Qin must not find out about the “sugar daddy” arrangement!

At least not yet!

With that in mind, Ran Muqiu quickly stepped in front of Li Zhu, blocking Feng Qin’s view. He said, with a distinct lack of confidence, “He’s just a classmate! Having him take me to the infirmary is enough. You, you don’t need to be here.

Just go back!”

Feng Qin watched Ran Muqiu spread his arms like a mother hen protecting her chick. His lips curled into a mirthless smile. “Oh. Using me up and then kicking me to the curb, I see.”

Ran Muqiu was stunned. “?”

Could you please not say such misleading things in front of your future wife?

The Protagonist Gong and Shou were getting weirder by the second.

In the end, Li Zhu was the first to lose patience. He took Ran Muqiu by the arm and led him all the way to the infirmary.

Feng Qin stood at a distance, watching them leave with an unreadable expression. He didn’t follow.

The walk was silent.

Ran Muqiu was still immersed in the “crematorium” scene he’d just witnessed. He felt that as a “Cannon Fodder Gong,” he’d stirred the pot too early and ruined what should have been a romantic first encounter.

But on second thought, he was supposed to be a “Scum Gong” anyway. It actually fit his character, so he stopped worrying.

Li Zhu, meanwhile, led him along with a firm grip, his thin lips pressed tight. He didn’t say a word.

He was always taciturn, so Ran Muqiu didn’t notice anything unusual—until his hand started to hurt from the squeeze. Only then did he realize Li Zhu was miles away.

“Hey.” Ran Muqiu pulled back slightly, whispering, “Don’t press so hard.”

Li Zhu looked down at him, loosened his grip, and said softly, “Sorry.”

Since the basketball game had just ended, there were plenty of minor injuries. The infirmary was crowded. Li Zhu swiped his student card for a number and finally managed to find an empty bed for Ran Muqiu.

The nurse was swamped. Just as she closed the curtain to check on Ran Muqiu, someone at another bed called out for her. She was spread too thin.

Li Zhu stood up and took the supplies from her hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Do you know how?” The nurse gave a few cautious instructions. Seeing that the tall boy looked reliable, she left the first-aid kit beside them. “Fine, you handle this student then. Call me if there’s a problem.”

Li Zhu nodded.

As soon as the nurse left, he walked to the side of the bed and reached out to grasp Ran Muqiu’s ankle.

The basketball uniform was loose. As the boy leaned against the headboard, the fabric of his shorts bunched up at the thigh. His skin was pale and soft, appearing like a handful of fresh snow against the light blue sheets.

Li Zhu silently held the boy’s calf, finding a comfortable position to apply the medicine, and pulled him slightly closer to his chest.

Just then, a few heads poked through the curtain.

They were boys from a neighboring class who had been playing on another court. Hearing that Ran Muqiu was here, they’d come to say hello.

The moment they entered, before even seeing clearly, they shouted, “Brother Qiu, we’re done, so we’ll just—”

Once they saw the scene inside, they cut themselves off mid-sentence and immediately turned around. “Sorry to disturb you!”

The curtain “swished” shut.

The group of teenage boys stood outside the curtain, faces flushed, shoving each other as they scrambled out of the infirmary.

Once they were safely outside, they realized how ridiculous they were being.

One of them stood dazed for a while before speaking up: “Dammit, why did you pull the curtain? I wasn’t finished talking.”

“I saw you blushing.”

“I, why the hell would I be blushing? You’re crazy!”

“But your ears are red!”

“You’re talking about me? I’m only blushing because I saw you blushing!”

They argued incessantly, but the image remained in their minds.

There was nothing technically wrong, yet the sight of those long, slender fingers gripping that fair, smooth calf had felt inexplicably intimate.

The group went quiet for a moment. As they walked away, the topic shifted. “Speaking of which, that guy Li from Class 2—how long has he been hanging around Brother Qiu? Even Qin Wei and the others—”

They turned a corner and bumped right into a tall figure.

The group fell silent instantly, their footsteps halting.

When they realized it was Feng Qin, they stood as straight as arrows, not daring to continue their gossip.

Everyone knew the new transfer student from the East High was a “Yama”—wealthy, powerful, and dangerous. At Nancheng High, they were just small-time punks. If they offended someone like him, there would be no clean escape.

One of them took the lead and called out “Brother Feng” before trying to hustle the group away.

They hadn’t gone two steps when they were called back. “Hey, Yellow Hair.”

The student who had spoken the loudest and whose hair was indeed dyed yellow froze. “?”

Feng Qin leaned against the wall, one leg hooked back, and lazily gestured for him to come over. “Come here a sec.”

The group looked at each other nervously.

“Yellow Hair” had no choice but to walk over, racking his brain to remember if he’d ever offended this guy.

Feng Qin crossed his arms and looked down at him. After a long silence, he asked, “That guy you mentioned, the one named Li.”

Yellow Hair looked up tremulously. “Huh?”

“Is he close with Ran Muqiu? Close with your school boss?”

Yellow Hair was stunned.

It took him a moment to realize this guy had called him over just for a piece of gossip.

“Oh, him.” Once he regained his senses, a trace of contempt flickered in Yellow Hair’s eyes, mixed with an unidentified jealousy he didn’t even recognize himself. “He’s just a piece of trash.”

As the noisy voices faded, Li Zhu pulled the curtain shut with a cold face and turned back.

Ran Muqiu didn’t pay much attention to the commotion.

The people at this school were weird all the time, but since they weren’t his targets, it didn’t matter.

He was already lying comfortably on the hospital bed, head resting on his arms, one pale calf hooked up. He was blinking his large eyes, seemingly lost in thought.

Li Zhu glanced at his calf, sat on the corner of the bed, and looked through the first-aid kit.

Feeling the bed dip, Ran Muqiu moved his head from the pillow and peeked at Li Zhu.

Perhaps having just yawned, his eyelashes were damp with crystalline moisture, giving him a look of soft, sleepy innocence.

Li Zhu looked at him and said softly, “If you’re tired, just sleep for a bit.”

Ran Muqiu shook his head.

He wasn’t actually dazing off; he was discussing the next step of the plan with the system.

Now that the Protagonist Gong and Shou had met, the plot was officially entering its main phase. In the original script, after this stage, the two would soon fall in love and start working as a duo.

To continue farming “Heartbreak Value” in this situation would not be easy.

Ran Muqiu was suddenly very glad he hadn’t impulsively ended the arrangement with Li Zhu.

After all, being forced into a humiliating “sponsorship” by a “Scum Gong” while in love with someone else—wasn’t that a classic heartbreak trope?

The world line wasn’t over; he hadn’t lost yet!

After giving himself a small pep talk, Ran Muqiu took a deep breath and pumped his fist mentally. 【233, the battle horn has truly sounded.】

While 233 wasn’t very useful, it was an excellent cheerleader. 【Host, keep it up!】

It then proceeded to play a rousing, heroic BGM inside Ran Muqiu’s head.

Ran Muqiu really wanted to hit the system. 【”…”】

“I’ll apply the medicine now,” Li Zhu said suddenly.

Ran Muqiu jumped, quickly unclenching his fist and slipping back into character. He gave a lazy “Mm” and said, “Go ahead.”

Since they were still in the duration of their “contract,” Ran Muqiu didn’t find it strange for Li Zhu to do these things.

Li Zhu asked, “Where is the injury?”

Ran Muqiu reached back with both hands and lifted the hem of his jersey, revealing a section of his waist. He said sluggishly, “On my back.”

Li Zhu followed his hands, his gaze landing on that slender waist, and he paused slightly.

Ran Muqiu had fair, delicate skin that bruised easily.

Just like the uniform he was wearing—it was clearly loose, yet the deep blue waistband had still left a faint, shallow indentation on his skin.

And that wasn’t all.

On a waist so slender it could be encircled by two hands, a distinct finger mark had appeared.

It was the clear result of someone having gripped and kneaded the flesh.

Judging by the mark, the person’s palm must have been quite large and their grip quite strong. Or perhaps it was their first time, and they didn’t yet understand how thin this person’s skin was or how difficult he was to handle, so they had simply seized him and refused to let go.

Just like himself at the very beginning.

When the person behind him didn’t move for a long while, Ran Muqiu felt a bit strange. Just as he was about to turn around, he felt a pair of hands touch him. They lingered at his waist for a moment before one hand freed itself and began to slowly grope its way upward.

Li Zhu was a child of a poor family; the skin on his hands was not delicate. Ran Muqiu had seen them before—he had deep-seated calluses at the base of his thumb and on his fingertips that were quite abrasive.

Right now, he used those hands to pin Ran Muqiu’s waist while pushing further in. This didn’t feel like someone applying medicine; it felt more like a hunter pinning down a rabbit’s limbs, wanting to meticulously inspect every inch of his captured prey for flaws.

Ran Muqiu: “…”

Ran Muqiu couldn’t help it; he flinched on the bed, his ears turning red as he looked back. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Li Zhu lifted his eyelids to look at him. His amber eyes seemed a shade darker than usual as he said tonelessly, “Didn’t you say it was on your back? The clothes are in the way; I can’t see clearly.”

Ran Muqiu was momentarily speechless, but he quickly put on his “sugar daddy” airs and snapped, “Then can’t you be a little gentler?”

Li Zhu complied. “Mm, alright.”

He said the words, but he only loosened his grip by a fraction; the remaining pressure was still a force Ran Muqiu found difficult to break.

Maintaining this posture, he leaned down slightly as if he truly couldn’t see, bringing his face close to Ran Muqiu’s spine, his gaze searching intently.

The hem of the jersey had long been lifted. The other boy’s hot breath fanned across his bare shoulder and back, causing an inexplicable wave of itchiness.

Ran Muqiu broke into goosebumps, his hair standing on end.

Wait, why was Li Zhu leaning so close?

It wasn’t like he was nearsighted, was he?

Ran Muqiu suddenly felt things were getting a bit weird.

The scene right now felt exactly like those moments in the original script—you know, that “tension-filled” atmosphere right before a certain kind of scene begins.

But then Ran Muqiu thought he might be overthinking it. After all, according to the character archetypes, he was the erotomaniac lusting after the Protagonist Shou’s body, while the Protagonist Shou had always been a cold, stubborn, and enduring “High Mountain Flower.” He shouldn’t have any dangerous ideas.

My brain must be poisoned by the original script!

Ran Muqiu didn’t want to seem cowardly or petty, so he endured it in silence, staying in that awkward position like a lamb to the slaughter until the medicine was finished.

He just didn’t understand why Li Zhu kept pressing on his waist, repeatedly focusing on one specific spot.

Come to think of it, it seemed to be the exact same spot Feng Qin had accidentally squeezed earlier.

As expected of the “Protagonist Couple”—how do they even like pinching people in the same place?

It made him feel incredibly awkward.

“O-okay, that’s enough!” The moment the cotton swab left his skin, Ran Muqiu hurriedly swatted his hand away. He scrambled to sit up on the bed, stammering, “That’s fine. It, it actually doesn’t even hurt that much!”

Li Zhu didn’t seem to mind having the cotton swab knocked out of his hand.

He crouched down on his own to pick it up. Thinking about how he had just used fresh marks to cover the finger imprint left by who-knows-who, his long lashes lowered to hide the storm-like gloom in his eyes as he packed up the first-aid kit.

Ran Muqiu sat facing him, his expression conflicted as he debated how to speak.

In this current timeline, he had met the Protagonist Gong before the Protagonist Shou had. Honestly, Ran Muqiu felt that Feng Qin was a real piece of work.

Arrogant, moody, and he’d already bullied him countless times in just a few days.

His gaze fell on Li Zhu.

The boy’s eyelashes were lowered, and his movements were steady and deliberate; he seemed to have an excellent temperament.

And he really was good.

Aside from being a bit taciturn, hard to “heartbreak,” and occasionally having a weirdly literal mind, Li Zhu had no other flaws.

He was especially impeccable when it came to helping with homework and cooking; he was essentially a perfect lover.

Even back when Ran Muqiu had used the most low-level “Scum Gong” tactics to throw tantrums at him, Li Zhu always looked at him with a good-natured expression. Aside from a trace of faint helplessness, there was never any sign of annoyance in his eyes.

How could such a fine Protagonist Shou be so blind as to fall for the Protagonist Gong?

The thought of Li Zhu being all sweet and lovey-dovey with someone like Feng Qin after he finished his “cannon fodder” mission and vanished from this world made Ran Muqiu inexplicably unhappy.

He really wanted to slightly tarnish Feng Qin’s image in Li Zhu’s mind.

Anyway, he was a “Cannon Fodder Gong,” so doing this was perfectly in character. Besides, maybe the Protagonist Shou had already fallen in love at first sight; speaking ill of the Gong might even accidentally achieve the goal of hurting the Shou’s feelings.

But bringing it up out of the blue felt a bit off.

Li Zhu looked up. Seeing Ran Muqiu biting his lip with his thoughts clearly drifting far away, he paused his movements and asked as if casually:

“That boy from earlier.”

Ran Muqiu stiffened.

Here it comes!

Li Zhu really was interested in Feng Qin. They had only just met, and he was already itching to ask about him!

“Are you close with him?” Li Zhu asked.