No Pampering the Vicious Cannon Fodder! [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 11

In all fairness, this was the best win-win solution Xin Rong could come up with.

 

It was currently the holidays, and the arena was short-staffed. This was precisely why Kahn had agreed so readily when he initially proposed becoming an apprentice.

 

Kahn had placed such trust in him; he couldn’t be ungrateful and just walk away.

 

His contract with the arena lasted until the end of the break. In a few weeks, the preparatory school would start. According to the script, he would become classmates with Shi Xingyao, Qiu Han, and the others, gaining more opportunities to suppress the protagonist while the plot accelerated.

 

Until then, Xin Rong decided to stay and work at the arena.

 

However, he had to stay as far away from Jing Yue as possible.

 

Jing Yue didn’t like Andy; this much was clear from their previous interactions—whispering about him behind his back, and even placing their sandbags at opposite ends of the training hall…

 

If Xin Rong chose to be Andy’s apprentice, he would naturally be far from Jing Yue. That way, Jing Yue wouldn’t be annoyed by him anymore.

 

Xin Rong felt he had been considerate enough for Jing Yue’s sake.

 

Giving up the chance to shear gold coins just to give the man some peace and quiet—he felt his conscience was clear.

 

Furthermore, although Xin Rong knew nothing about combat, after being exposed to it for some time, he had begun to pick up a few things.

 

Andy’s punches were soft and sluggish; compared to Jing Yue, he was indeed far inferior. Those few words Jing Yue had used to “cricket” (gossip about) him actually held some truth.

 

But apart from boxing skills, Andy was much stronger in other areas. Every time they sparred, he would make a cup of chocolate milk for him, and despite his average skills, he was willing to teach everything he knew.

 

…Unlike a certain someone who wouldn’t teach a thing, was constantly fierce, and did nothing but complain that he was slowing down his progress.

 

Only then did Xin Rong understand how other masters treated their apprentices—with patience, gentleness, and care.

 

Although Jing Yue had picked strawberries for him, he hadn’t given them to him in the end, intending to throw them away instead. If he hadn’t run into Kahn by chance, that basket of high-quality wild mountain strawberries would have likely gone to waste.

 

During a break in sparring, Xin Rong’s gaze inadvertently swept across the room, only to find that Jing Yue had arrived at the training hall at some unknown point.

 

He was startled.

 

Didn’t Jing Yue just go back to the lounge?

 

How long had it been before he came back out to train?

 

He saw Jing Yue standing in the training area furthest away from him, concentrating fully on throwing punches, each one packed with ruthless force.

 

Xin Rong thought somewhat sourly: Now that he’s rid of a deadweight like me, he’s training with even more gusto.

 

At that moment, at the other end of the hall, Jing Yue, who was single-mindedly pummeling a sandbag, keenly sensed someone approaching.

 

Looking up, he saw Kahn watching him with his hands in his pockets.

 

“What do you want?” Jing Yue gave him a sideways glance. “Aren’t you going on your date yet?”

 

Kahn waved a hand: “Don’t even mention it. They had to work overtime again. Alphas with strong career ambitions are truly a pain—if it weren’t for the fact that their ‘equipment’ down there is big enough—”

 

Jing Yue’s brows furrowed instantly, and he cast a disgusted look over.

 

“Fine, fine, I know you don’t like hearing this.” Kahn tactfully stopped, turning his gaze toward the other end of the training hall and saying with great interest, “I say, you’re really keeping your cool, aren’t you?”

 

Jing Yue glanced at him, his movements not stopping: “What about it?”

 

“Your little apprentice has run off with someone else, and you’re not panicked at all?”

 

“Panicked?” Jing Yue sneered. “With boxing skills that rotten, he has the nerve to teach others? I think the one who should be panicked is someone else.”

 

It had to be said that when he first learned Xin Rong had decided to learn boxing from Andy, Jing Yue’s lungs nearly burst with rage.

 

Anger, shock, and more than anything, a lack of understanding.

 

He had followed the two of them all the way to the training hall, but when he witnessed Andy’s clumsy technique with his own eyes, his racing heart settled back into his chest.

 

Jing Yue looked composed, his confidence self-evident: “As long as Xin Rong isn’t an idiot, he’ll realize sooner or later that Andy is just a hack who can’t teach him anything about real combat. When that time comes, he’ll naturally—”

 

The words stopped at the tip of his tongue, only being completed silently in his heart.

 

—When that time comes, he’ll naturally come back to me.

 

Three days. He would give Xin Rong three days.

 

Within three days, Xin Rong would surely understand that even just standing by his side and watching him fight would teach him far more than following that smooth-talking Andy.

 

Kahn pressed a hand to his forehead, looking at him with the pity one might show a terminal patient: “Little brother, you are truly beyond saving.”

 

Jing Yue disliked that expression intensely. He stopped punching: “What are you trying to say?”

 

“You don’t seriously think Andy is so popular in the arena because of his superior boxing skills, do you?” Kahn sighed toward the ceiling. “Do you actually have any idea what the pheromones of an S-rank Alpha mean to an Omega?”

 

Jing Yue went silent.

 

He had taken physiology classes at the preparatory school; he wasn’t completely ignorant of basic common sense.

 

However, after all… his constitution was special, and there were many things he could not experience personally.

 

Never having undergone differentiation, having no glands, he could not perceive anyone else’s pheromones.

 

To him, that kind of instinctive attraction between different genders was a total blind spot.

 

“What exactly are you trying to say?” Jing Yue didn’t want to admit his ignorance. His tone remained cold, but his eyes flickered involuntarily.

 

Kahn patted him on the shoulder: “Fine. As an Omega who has experienced a hundred Alphas and as your best friend, let me give you a little science lesson. See Andy’s movements?”

 

Jing Yue looked over with a dark face and saw Andy pulling at his collar to reveal his neck, occasionally fanning himself.

 

“What is he doing, dissipating heat?” Jing Yue mocked. “Is he kidney-deficient?”

 

“That is a standard Alpha movement for releasing pheromones. It allows the scent to spread more fully to attract the opposite sex.” Kahn pointed not far away. “See that floorhand?”

 

Jing Yue glanced over and saw an Omega floorhand who was usually quite strong. Right now, his face was flushed red, and he looked hesitant as if he wanted to approach Andy but didn’t dare.

 

“That is the power of high-level pheromones. No matter how tough an Omega usually is, they have to surrender obediently before pheromones.”

 

Jing Yue’s hand instinctively clenched into a fist: “So what? Just because of some pheromones, Xin Rong is going to be infatuated with a loser like Andy? Bullshit.”

 

“My god, ‘some pheromones’?” Kahn laughed out loud in surprise. “Do you have any idea how much of a leading role pheromones play in love? Of course, you can continue telling yourself that your Xin Rong is an Omega capable of resisting biological instincts.”

 

Jing Yue sneered: “Whether he can resist or not, what does it have to do with me?”

 

“Fine, keep being stubborn. I’m just reminding you that some things can’t be held onto with fists alone,” Kahn shrugged and suddenly leaned in close. “How about… I smell him for you?”

 

“Smell what?”

 

“I bet that right now, Xin Rong is covered head to toe in the scent of Andy’s pheromones, and that smell will linger for at least a week.”

 

“…”

 

These words were spoken lightly, but they were like a barb that unexpectedly stabbed into Jing Yue’s heart.

 

He forced down that inexplicable irritability: “What he smells like has nothing to do with me!”

 

With that, he strode out of the training hall.

 

On the other side, Xin Rong’s brain was already a mess of mush.

 

He was clearly just doing his duty as a sparring partner, yet the emotional fluctuation monitor was acting like it had lost control, ringing incessantly. Every few seconds, a sound would pop out—

 

Gold coins: +500! Gold coins: +500! Gold coins: +500!

 

Xin Rong couldn’t take it anymore and frantically called 050: “Little Coal Ball, is this monitor of yours broken?!”

 

Looking at the numbers in the small vault skyrocketing, 050’s eyes went wide: “Ho-host, our system never breaks.”

 

If the system wasn’t broken, then there was only one possibility—

 

“Then your protagonist’s brain is broken! I’ve stayed far away from him, I’m just working honestly to make money, so what on earth is he getting angry at me for?!”

 

050 said weakly: “Host, you’re making money anyway, isn’t that a good thing?”

 

True as that was…

 

He was clearly trying his best not to provoke Jing Yue. Could merely appearing in the same space cause such massive emotional fluctuations in him?

 

Did Jing Yue… hate him that much?!

 

---

 

Back in the lounge, Jing Yue was constantly restless, feeling as if countless ants were gnawing at his heart.

 

After pacing back and forth in the room several times, he pulled out the love letter Xin Rong had written to him.

 

He read it word by word repeatedly, his gaze lingering for a long time on the final sentence—

 

“And my heart shall remain unchanging, like a gemstone throughout eternity.”

 

He remembered “Gemstone Qiang” saying that Star-Shine Stones were one of the hardest gems in the world; even after ten thousand years, they wouldn’t change in the slightest.

 

And Xin Rong’s heart would be the same…

 

Furthermore, to find a gemstone mined on his actual birthday, Xin Rong must have gone to great lengths.

 

Thinking of this, the agitation Kahn had stirred up gradually calmed down.

 

Yes, Andy was an S-rank Alpha. That was true.

 

Yes, an Alpha’s pheromones have a natural attraction for Omegas. That was also true.

 

But there was one thing Kahn hadn’t realized.

 

He had no idea how much Xin Rong liked him.

 

How could such a deep, unswerving affection—one bordering on obsession—be shaken by a mere pheromone?

 

Therefore, there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

 

Jing Yue carefully folded the letter, and the irritability in his heart finally vanished.

 

He fought with particular ferocity in that night’s match, his punches sharp and every move lethal.

 

After the match, as he returned to the low building and passed through the corridor, he caught a glimpse of light coming from Andy’s lounge.

 

Jing Yue’s footsteps stopped abruptly, and he instinctively leaned toward the cracked door.

 

Through the narrow gap, Xin Rong was treating Andy’s wounds with extreme care.

 

The warm yellow light spilled over his lowered eyes and brows, making him look incredibly soft.

 

Jing Yue’s fist clenched involuntarily.

 

…So he looks like this no matter whose wounds he’s healing.

 

However, on second thought, it might just be because Andy’s injuries were indeed heavy.

 

Ever since Xin Rong’s comment that “bleeding is because your technique isn’t good enough,” Jing Yue had trained ruthlessly to improve his skills. In the matches following that, he had never allowed himself to be seriously injured again.

 

Today, one could even say he was unscathed. There was only a tiny scrape on his arm, a shallow scratch that hadn’t even seeped blood.

 

So, Alpha or not, it didn’t matter.

 

Wasn’t a so-called S-rank Alpha like Andy still getting beaten until his head scurried like a rat?

 

What use was he, other than emitting some foul, stinky pheromones?

 

At that moment, Andy sensed something strange outside the door and looked over.

 

Following his gaze, Xin Rong also saw Jing Yue.

 

Their eyes met in the air for a split second before Jing Yue looked away quickly, as if he had been burned.

 

Xin Rong pursed his lips, long since used to his coldness, and returned his attention to Andy’s wound: “You should drink less lately so the wound heals faster. Does it hurt anywhere else?”

 

Andy was all smiles: “My back hurts, an old problem. Why don’t you touch it and see if it’s serious?”

 

Xin Rong’s hand naturally rested on the side of Andy’s waist.

 

Outside the door, Jing Yue’s knuckles clamped onto the door frame so hard he nearly crushed the wood.

 

Is this guy an idiot?

 

He touches just because he’s told to?

 

Did no one teach him self-protection awareness when he was a kid?

 

How can he be so casual?

 

At this moment, Xin Rong was completely unaware of Jing Yue’s groundless criticism of his upbringing, his heart fully immersed in the noble cause of saving the dying and healing the wounded: “Then I’ll prepare some ointment for you; remember to apply it every day.”

 

With that, he briskly packed the medical kit, preparing to get off work and go home.

 

He had only walked a few steps after closing the door when a raspy voice suddenly came from behind him.

 

“Hey.”

 

The corridor was very dark, lit only by a single dim yellow hanging lamp.

 

The shadow of the person standing in the gloom was stretched long, almost merging with the darkness.

 

Xin Rong was taken aback: “Why haven’t you left yet?”

 

Jing Yue didn’t speak. He simply walked slowly under the light and extended a hand, blocking Xin Rong’s path.

 

Xin Rong looked at him in confusion: “What is it?”

 

“Can’t you see?” His burning gaze was fixed on Xin Rong, as if trying to stare a hole through his face.

 

Jing Yue’s arm was almost shoved into his face, yet Xin Rong still looked bewildered.

 

Helplessly, he had to point to it himself, squeezing two words out with difficulty from between his teeth: “…Here.”

 

Xin Rong lowered his head, following the position he indicated, and looked carefully.

 

Finally, at his elbow, he discovered a scratch so shallow it was almost invisible.

 

Xin Rong: “…”

 

Good thing I found it in time.

 

Any later, and it would have healed.