Transmigrated as the Cannon Fodder Boss of the Disabled Heroine - Chapter 27

Zhao Manlin stiffly “declined” Pei Yujiang ‘s “kind offer.”

As an Omega, Zhao Manlin had strong survival instincts and immediately warned Yu Zhiwan.

Even though Pei Yujiang  had told Yu Zhiwan she was a Beta, Yu Zhiwan, wanting to reassure her friend, relayed this to the tight-lipped Zhao Manlin. Yet, upon hearing that Yu Zhiwan had accepted Pei Yujiang ’s invitation, Zhao Manlin’s expression turned disapproving.

They had been roommates in college. Though they studied different majors, Zhao Manlin had long admired and connected with Yu Zhiwan.

Zhao Manlin had witnessed firsthand how Yu Zhiwan struggled after losing her ability to walk. For an entire year, Zhao Manlin tirelessly accompanied her up and down stairs, fearing Yu Zhiwan might trip or fall. She even refused to go home during holidays, insisting on staying to care for her.

This continued until Yu Zhiwan could move freely with her wheelchair.

Zhao Manlin was also an Omega, but she harbored no special romantic feelings for Yu Zhiwan. Still, years of dormitory friendship and their compatible personalities fostered a protective instinct in her.

She didn’t want to admit it, but it stemmed from sympathy and pity for someone with a disability, as well as the inherent vigilance of an Omega.

Exceptional beauty wasn’t always a blessing.

When Pei Yujiang  attempted to get close, Zhao Manlin grew deeply suspicious. Especially upon learning that Yu Zhiwan and Pei Yujiang  would be traveling together for work, she hesitated repeatedly before finally speaking up:

“Even if she’s a Beta, your legs…”

A physically healthy Omega might not fear a female Beta too much, but Yu Zhiwan, despite her extraordinary resilience, was still limited in mobility. If Pei Yujiang  tried anything, a blind and disabled Omega like her would have little means of escape.

Back then, Zhao Manlin had advised Yu Zhiwan against living with Liu Huanran, but Yu Zhiwan “stubbornly insisted,” nearly getting hurt as a result. With Liu Huanran as a cautionary tale, Zhao Manlin couldn’t help but worry Yu Zhiwan might fall into “love-blindness.”

“Manlin, everyone chooses their own path.”

Having known Zhao Manlin for years, Yu Zhiwan understood her concerns, though some things couldn’t be shared openly.

Zhao Manlin was usually discreet and avoided meddling in others’ affairs yet she kept breaking her own rules for Yu Zhiwan.

Taking a deep breath, Zhao Manlin seemed exasperated but, as an outsider, had no right to say more. She stared at Yu Zhiwan for a long moment before abruptly looking away and, for the first time, turned to leave without even a goodbye.

The faint scent of an Omega lingered, a hollow trace of osmanthus that clung to the air long after she was gone. Yu Zhiwan couldn’t see her expression or retreating figure, but the tone of her longtime friend made it clear: she was truly angry this time.

Exhausted, Yu Zhiwan propped her arms on the café table and buried her face in them, hiding like an ostrich for a while as waitstaff moved around her to the soft strains of instrumental music.

After some time, she finally lifted her head, her hair disheveled.

Her phone was synced to her hearing aid. Yu Zhiwan fished her earbuds from her pocket, pressed record, and spoke in a hushed, clipped tone:

“Help me investigate Pei Yujiang ‘s every movement at this specific time point, including the following two months, as well as all members of the Pei family, Fan Zhaozhao and Jiang Wenxiu included. Leave no detail unchecked.”

Yu Zhiwan provided a date the very day Pei Yujiang  had rescued her from the abandoned attic of the factory. After receiving an acknowledgment from the other end, she ended the communication.

Pei Yujiang  hadn’t been to the south in a long time. As she prepared for this long-awaited trip, she felt a small thrill of excitement.

In her previous life, zombie beasts had been primarily active in the northern regions, while the south was plagued by diseases, making them less prevalent. Pei Yujiang  wasn’t medically trained; her battles had mostly taken place in the north.

Ningxiang was a southern water town, a city of flowers, with gentle hills and soft waters completely different from Yicheng in the north.

The moment the plane landed, Pei Yujiang  felt the drastic temperature difference.

November in Yicheng was deep winter, with frost and occasional snow, while Ningxiang enjoyed spring-like weather for three seasons. Even in winter, the coldest days only brought a light dusting of frost.

The cold air seemed hesitant to assault this delicate water town. Though it had swept southward with unstoppable force, upon reaching Ningxiang’s low green hills, it softened, arriving with more noise than bite.

Yet, temperatures around ten degrees Celsius were considered “cold” by the locals. Few wore trench coats on the streets; most opted for light cotton jackets for warmth.

Pei Yujiang , in her trench coat and boots, stood out like an oddity in this mild southern city.

Her striking beauty combined the bold charm of northern women with the tall, elegant stature of an Alpha both commanding and gorgeous. Ningxiang wasn’t a major city, just a third-tier tourist destination, so the sight of a stunning woman pushing another equally beautiful but disabled woman through the airport was impossible to miss.

Pei Yujiang  patiently smoothed Yu Zhiwan’s hair, tousled from resting during the flight. Bending slightly, she quietly asked if she needed to use the restroom. Receiving a negative response, she headed straight for the exit.

Collecting materials wasn’t a difficult task. Someone was already on a business trip nearby, but Pei Yujiang  and Yu Zhiwan had come alone and would meet up with them in a few days.

This was a privilege Pei Jinhuai had granted her daughter, knowing Pei Yujiang  wanted some leisure time essentially a few days of subsidized travel.

Before arriving, Pei Yujiang  had planned everything out. They had three days before meeting the others for work, leaving them relatively free.

She had booked a homestay with two rooms, specifically chosen online for its accessibility. Ningxiang’s pleasant climate, scenic beauty, and affordable prices made it a popular spot for rehabilitation, mental recovery, or retirement.

Pei Yujiang  had never traveled before, and this was her first time planning a trip. She had been slightly nervous, but her worries vanished when she saw the homestay exactly as pictured online.

The backyard was a garden personally tended by the owners. According to them, the flowers changed with the seasons, and to preserve the element of surprise, no one had posted photos in the reviews. The written descriptions alone were enticing.

Pushing Yu Zhiwan along the wheelchair-accessible path, Pei Yujiang  opened the wooden gate to the flower garden and was suddenly greeted by a riot of vibrant colors.

The midsummer garden was filled with roses and peonies in full bloom.

The relatively limited variety didn’t diminish their anticipation at all. Among the fiery red roses were scattered vibrant yellow blooms, along with rare blue and black roses, interspersed with pink and purple varieties. The rose bushes served as a backdrop, their petals dancing lightly in the breeze.

Pei Yujiang had always loved roses not just because her own pheromones used to carry their scent, but also because she adored the fragrance of Yu Zhiwan’s rose-based pheromones.

Roses were flowers that captivated at first glance with their intense fragrance, yet bore thorns that warned against careless handling. Even the most cautious picker might get pricked.

Though Yu Zhiwan’s blindness prevented her from seeing the garden’s riot of colorful roses in full bloom, her heightened senses had caught the familiar scent matching her pheromones even before entering. This confirmed something she’d already suspected.

Unaware of Yu Zhiwan’s swirling thoughts, Pei Yujiang was delighted to find the online-reviewed homestay living up to expectations. She enthusiastically described the scene: “Beyond the red and yellow roses, there are blue, pink, white, and black ones, all different varieties. The arrangement is masterful, probably professionally designed with rose bushes forming a dividing line like merging sun and moon. One side has 108 roses, the other 219…”

Pei even counted each bloom, using straightforward descriptions rather than flowery language to help Yu Zhiwan visualize the scene. “The front yard has flowers too, let me make you a wreath?” She’d rushed straight to the backyard upon arrival but had glimpsed the front garden earlier. While the backyard blooms were off-limits, the owner said front yard flowers could be used for drying, baths, or wreaths.

Yu Zhiwan raised an eyebrow. “You can make wreaths?”

“Of course!” Though generally unskilled at crafts, wreath-making was Pei’s specialty, a comforting pastime from her previous life’s military marches. She could proudly vouch for her skill. “Come, let’s go to the front yard. After your wreath, we can prepare for riverside barbecue tonight it’s not far, and we can bring their grill.”

Ningxiang’s relaxed urban policies allowed such activities in designated riverside areas. Rumors of occasional fireworks made Pei hope for a show, though she’d already planned to buy some herself preferably screeching “sky monkeys” so Yu Zhiwan could better experience them through sound.

Researching their trip, Pei had been charmed by the town’s casual romance. Here unfolded the peaceful freedoms absent in the plague-ravaged “Disease Town” of two centuries later Ningxiang lived up to its name as a haven of tranquility where one could embrace their true nature.

As the sun dipped westward, Pei quickly unpacked before returning to craft Yu Zhiwan’s floral crown.

They lived in a single-story detached house surrounded by willow trees and a small artificial lake. Pei Yujiang effortlessly vaulted over the wall in her jeans, snapped off a willow branch, and returned.

If Yu Zhiwan’s vision had been intact, she would have seen the tall woman standing lazily by the wall, the cool breeze billowing through her khaki trench coat, making it flutter dramatically.

Pei Yujiang’s hair was slightly tousled by the wind, so she casually pinned it back with a hair clip, her deep blue eyes filled with focus. Underneath, she wore only a casual white shirt tucked into her jeans, her slender waist and long legs paired with black leather boots exuding an effortless beauty.

Yu Zhiwan couldn’t see, but the scent of flowers in the garden abruptly triggered long-buried childhood memories, ones she had deliberately sealed away.

Her parents’ hands, skilled in manipulating cold instruments, could in an instant dictate the fates of countless people, yet they could also pluck delicate flowers to weave the simplest of wreaths to adorn her.

Back then, her eyes could still see the vibrant colors of spring. On the summer fields of Wing City, she would blow on the dandelion stems hanging from her wreath, watching them drift far away.

Pei Yujiang hadn’t planned to say anything.

She was never good with words, afraid of accidentally making things worse while trying to comfort someone. So when she first noticed Yu Zhiwan’s strange expression, she simply slowed her wreath-making and quickly reviewed everything she might have done to upset her.

The day’s events flashed through her mind.

She had picked Yu Zhiwan up at the door before departure, helped her onto the plane, proactively asked the flight attendant for water when Yu Zhiwan wanted some, covered her with a blanket when she fell asleep, and even offered her shoulder, though she thought the business-class seat was far more comfortable.

She had assisted her off the plane too, booked a lovely homestay that met expectations, and maintained a warm, gentle tone throughout their first trip together. She hadn’t done a single thing to spoil the mood, hadn’t lost her temper once, not even raising her voice at passersby.

So it definitely wasn’t her fault.

Pei Yujiang racked her brain but couldn’t figure out what was bothering Yu Zhiwan.

Yu Zhiwan felt embarrassed.

Aside from necessary pretenses, she never liked others seeing her tears. At her age, crying over a flower wreath was absurd, she’d soon be past 25. Yet her eyes and nose stung, making it hard to suppress her emotions.

Just as she silently resigned herself to letting the tears dry before pretending nothing had happened, a clean, flower-scented tissue was pressed into her palm.

Yu Zhiwan froze for a second before inexplicably bristling, snapping in a small, feeble voice:

“Don’t look at me!”

“I’m not looking! I’m not looking right now, really my eyes are closed!”

Pei Yujiang had already crouched down in a fluster, even grabbing Yu Zhiwan’s hand to press against her own eyelids, letting her feel that they were indeed tightly shut.

Her voice was a mix of defensiveness and nervousness. She had pressed Yu Zhiwan’s finger too hard against her eye, and it ached faintly, but she pushed through to finish her sentence.

“I wasn’t going to interfere, but… you’re crying. And I don’t want you to cry.”

She hadn’t interacted much with Omegas before, but she knew Yu Zhiwan enjoyed being close to her. Although that was during her heat cycle, it at least proved two things: first, Yu Zhiwan wasn’t angry with her, and second, she didn’t reject physical contact with her.

To better adapt to this world, Pei Yujiang  had studied numerous materials. She came across an authoritative source stating that “hugs have healing power.” Though unsure of its validity, she was certain of one thing seeing Yu Zhiwan cry made her heart ache.

She didn’t want to see Yu Zhiwan cry anymore, so she asked:

“How about you hug me? Would hugging me make you feel better?”

Yu Zhiwan thought: I didn’t plan to genuinely fall for her.

But sincerity is the ultimate weapon that transcends all orientations!

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