Transmigrated as the Cannon Fodder Boss of the Disabled Heroine - Chapter 49

“My identity?”

Yu Zhiwan’s response was more straightforward than she had anticipated, without any hesitation. Her almond-shaped eyes, unable to see the direction Yu Zhiwan was in, stared blankly ahead, her lips curving slightly upward:

“Are you conducting a census survey?”

Yu Zhiwan’s hometown and registered residence were both in Wing City, making her a native of the place. Her ID card was in her bag, and upon hearing this, she took it out and handed it to Pei Yujiang.

Of course, that wasn’t what Pei Yujiang meant to ask. When Yu Zhiwan handed over the ID, Pei Yujiang didn’t find it amusing. Instead, her mind was torn over whether she should reveal her own circumstances to Yu Zhiwan.

She could sense that Yu Zhiwan likely knew a great deal just as today, her curiosity about Yu Zhiwan seemed to be within the other woman’s grasp. If they weren’t on the same side, being in the dark while the enemy remained hidden would put her at a severe disadvantage.

If she were facing anyone else, Pei Yujiang would probably be figuring out how to resort to threats or force. Even now, as she spoke with Yu Zhiwan, her back was drenched in sweat.

The temperature in Yu Zhiwan’s home was just right neither too hot nor too cold, likely due to climate-controlled materials. The wallpaper bore a silver-white rose pattern, brightening the spacious interior. Every detail was meticulously arranged, revealing someone who refused to live anything less than comfortably.

Just based on financial means alone, the female lead didn’t seem like an ordinary employee content with staying under her wing. She could leave anytime she wanted. What lingered most in Pei Yujiang’s mind, however, was the “world-ending” scenario mentioned by the system when she first transmigrated. But this “world-ending” wasn’t an inevitable plot, it was a consequence of a darkening storyline.

This suggested that the female lead was, at the very least, highly unlikely to be a completely irredeemable villain.

She probably wasn’t aligned with those people.

The political landscape two hundred years ago had already grown tangled and complex otherwise, the prolonged apocalypse that followed wouldn’t have occurred. Since Yu Zhiwan had observed her for so long before bringing this up, and hadn’t obstructed or interfered with her actions before, it all pointed to her willingness to have a proper conversation.

After some thought, Pei Yujiang asked Yu Zhiwan where she kept paper and a pen. Once directed, she went to the study and retrieved a clean sheet along with a braille stylus, a special pen used to write on slightly embossed paper, allowing the blind to read by touch.

It was her first time using such a tool, and she ruined several sheets before finally managing to write carefully, stroke by stroke, crafting a makeshift ID for herself.

This wasn’t the original host’s ID, it was one that truly belonged to Pei Yujiang, the person from two hundred years later.

[Name]: Pei Yujiang
[Age]: Adult
[Gender]: Alpha, Female
[Residence]: Wing City Jurisdiction
[Political Status]: Military Personnel

IDs two centuries later were simple, with even age roughly categorized as just “adult” or “minor.” Only adults could access certain venues or formally enlist in the military, while minors could only serve as cadets. Pei Yujiang had been promoted from cadet to full status.

Once the ink dried, Pei Yujiang solemnly handed the paper to Yu Zhiwan. The woman accepted it calmly, her fingers tracing the text. When she reached the “Gender” field, her fingertips paused almost imperceptibly.

Pei Yujiang noticed every subtle movement and quickly explained:

“Actually, I used to be an Alpha, but after coming here, I became a Beta. I can still detect pheromones, but I can’t mark an Omega.”

Otherwise, during those moments when Yu Zhiwan got a little too close without boundaries, Pei Yujiang would have definitely kept her distance. She was always mindful of maintaining proper space between them.

For the first time, a look of confusion appeared on Yu Zhiwan’s delicate face:

“Before? The jurisdiction of Wing City?”

She had long suspected Pei Yujiang wasn’t who she claimed to be. But since Pei Yujiao had seriously written down her ID information, “Wing City” couldn’t just be a coincidentally named place.

Combined with Pei Yujiang mentioning she was a soldier, most of Yu Zhiwan’s doubts about her could be explained.

An ordinary Beta wouldn’t have such physical capabilities. Pei Yujiang’s exceptional fitness, strong sense of justice, and tendency to “meddle in others’ business” all pointed to her being no ordinary person.

Pei Yujiang gave a heavy “Mm” in response. Looking at Yu Zhiwan, she calmly stated a fact that would be hard for anyone to accept:

“I come from Wing City… two hundred years in the future.”

After speaking these words, Pei Yujiang felt some of the weight on her shoulders lift unconsciously.

She described how Wing City and indeed the entire world two centuries later was engulfed in constant warfare, overrun by bandits and zombies. Both her parents died shortly after her birth, and she was raised by others who subjected her to rigorous training from childhood.

That kind of training would be considered torture by many. In those apocalyptic times, people lived day-to-day, with relief organizations often uncertain where their next meal would come from. There were no proper welfare systems, survival depended entirely on oneself. Children couldn’t be coddled like they are now.

Pei Yujiang grew up in an unnamed orphanage, sent there for bone structure training when she was just a few years old. Even those destined to become Omegas had to learn basic self-defense.

“An Omega without self-defense skills would suffer terribly in that environment. Order depended on location, Wing City was relatively better with military presence, but who knew what would happen farther away?”

Recalling the past with some reluctance, Pei Yujiang continued:

“During downtime, I’d patrol different areas with the security teams. In places distant from military bases, bandits were rampant, anyone traveling alone would inevitably get robbed. I once saw an Omega girl, probably just a teenager, filthy and chained inside a makeshift shelter.”

It could hardly be called a shelter just two branches propping up a piece of tattered oilcloth, likely discarded by someone, serving as her “home.”

“She was nearly naked, her body covered in bruises from pinches and beatings, knife marks… When my comrades and I tried to rescue her after subduing her captors, she refused to come with us.”

“She believed staying with those people at least guaranteed food and survival. She’d been rescued by soldiers before, but when they had to relocate, she was abandoned again and suffered even worse treatment. Eventually, she just drifted through life, surviving day by day in a daze.”

The person refused to leave, and Pei Yujiang couldn’t forcibly take her away. She wouldn’t testify against those people either, stubbornly protecting them with a look that said she’d fight to the death if anyone dared touch them. Even though chaos had erupted, as a soldier, Pei Yujiang couldn’t kill indiscriminately. She had no choice but to turn and leave, continuing her patrol.

Yet before she’d gone far, Pei Yujiang heard the Omega’s desperate cry for help. By the time she turned back to fire, it was too late, crimson blood gushed from the Omega’s neck. The last thing she saw were those filthy figures dancing in triumph.

Incidents like this weren’t isolated. They kept happening, both in places she witnessed and those she didn’t.

Pei Yujiang couldn’t eradicate them all. Sometimes these bandits even dared steal military supplies. Smaller, unofficial military units had their camps violently raided at night.

Beyond organized gangs, scattered criminals were even more numerous unaffiliated but equally vicious. They took advantage of the apocalypse to act with impunity, viewing the military as their sworn enemy.

And then there were the zombies and zombie beasts, their numbers overwhelming and impossible to fully eliminate. While zombies moved sluggishly, trained elders or children could take one down one-on-one, the zombie beasts reproduced. Some even developed intelligence, capable of summoning their kind.

Two hundred years later, zombies would reach peak evolution, and humans would gain extensive combat experience against them. In truth, zombies could be traced back a century earlier just decades from the current timeline.

Experts at the time speculated zombies were likely man-made viral creations, though whether zombie beasts or zombies appeared first remained a mystery.

Pei Yujiang recounted her life from birth to death, including the thirtieth birthday she never got to celebrate. She didn’t even know her exact age, her stated age was just an estimate from bone testing. She’d chosen her enlistment date in the junior military camp as her birthday, a small rebellion to find joy in hardship.

The scenes from two centuries ago might be hard for modern people to comprehend. Pei Yujiang watched carefully as Yu Zhiwan’s expression shifted through various emotions before finally settling into calm.

All this time, she’d guarded this apocalyptic secret with no one to confide in, not even her caring mother, Pei Jinhuai. She couldn’t be sure how Pei Jinhuai would view her after learning the truth.

Never mind that she wasn’t actually Pei Jinhuai’s daughter. There was no way to prove she came from two hundred years in the future. Time travel wasn’t reincarnation, this foreknowledge was as unbelievable as a dream. Posting it online would likely get it deleted as inflammatory rumor-mongering, or worse, land her in jail.

Yet sharing this with Yu Zhiwan lifted the boulder that had been weighing on her heart, easing the constant anxiety that had exhausted her.

Still, Pei Yujiang remained cautious. While she’d revealed much, she withheld all classified details, leaving no trail for investigation. At worst, skeptics would dismiss her as a talented storyteller gone mad.

For the first time, Pei Yujiang felt lighthearted. She pressed her forehead against the cool leather sofa back, letting its temperature calm her racing thoughts.

The water Yu Zhiwan had poured for her had cooled slightly. Pei Yujiang picked up the glass and drained it in one gulp, she preferred it at this temperature, and would have liked it even colder. Unfortunately, in this season, a health-conscious person like Yu Zhiwan probably didn’t keep ice at home.

Her eyes sparkled as she lightly patted the back of Yu Zhiwan’s hand, just a fleeting touch, as if to remind her: Your turn now.

Yu Zhiwan didn’t think she had much to say.

But she didn’t keep Pei Yujiang in suspense either. After listening to Pei’s full confession, she absorbed the shock quickly, accepted everything as fact, and organized her own share of the story in her mind.

“My parents were assigned to each other through the group’s matchmaking system, they didn’t choose one another.”

Her mother and father were simple: an Alpha and an Omega, the most conventional family structure, both strikingly attractive.

Even though Yu Zhiwan had been young at the time, she’d already developed a basic sense of aesthetics. She remembered her father as tall and scholarly, always impeccably clean, free from the unpleasant odor many men carried without realizing it. Her eyes resembled her mother’s, who was also a beauty. The two were well-matched in looks, both highly educated, so naturally, their child turned out well too.

She didn’t know how long her parents had been in that underground bunker laboratory, only that they were already colleagues when they met. In a place like that, there was no room for romance they were ordered by the organization to conceive a child and given a period of leave.

The “relationship leave” allowed them half-days off for a month, giving them time to get acquainted. The organization prided itself on being “humane.”

There was another leave period for marriage and childbirth, granting them time as a couple until the woman became pregnant, after which the man had to return to work.

Yu Zhiwan spent her first few years aboveground. She didn’t know why the organization had shown rare mercy by allowing married couples to raise their child outside. That was the happiest time of her life.

Carefree days, living like any normal child until one day, her family was ordered back into the underground lab.

The bunker was massive, so much so that children born there later grew up believing it was the entire world, like real-life “frogs at the bottom of a well,” oblivious to the vastness outside.

Having seen the vibrant world above, she naturally lost interest in everything down there except for the talent etched into her genes.

Then came the day the cruel experiments terrified her. In the end, her mother couldn’t bear it and paid a steep price to get her out, along with a fortune meant to secure her future.

But life on the surface was no less precarious constantly monitored, every step fraught with tension.

And even now, this existence was nothing more than a prolonged rehearsal for what would come two hundred years later.

Human circumstances never change by mere accident.

“This scar on my forehead isn’t a birthmark, it happened right after I left the underground lab. That facility was conducting horrific experiments, but at least there was order there. The first night I went out alone to buy something, I was stopped by some Alpha thugs who immediately tried to mark me without warning.”

Yu Zhiwan wasn’t the type of Omega to surrender quietly. Even though she was blind at the time, she fought back fiercely.

She’d brought some defensive powder her parents had given her and threw it at her attackers. The thugs, thinking an Omega would be easy prey, were enraged by her resistance and slashed at her with a knife.

The blade nearly struck her face, but Yu Zhiwan dodged just in time to avoid disfigurement though it left a deep gash on her forehead that reached the bone. The sight of her bloodied face frightened the assailants, who’d only intended a casual marking to harass an Omega. After her desperate struggle, they cursed and fled.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. A beautiful, blind, disabled Omega like her became a walking target harassed and ostracized even in broad daylight, not just at night. Her dormmates were among the perpetrators.

Looking back now, Yu Zhiwan finds those incidents petty just typical Alpha-Omega drama. She’d mostly kept to herself at school, yet still got blamed for trivial matters.

“They thought because I couldn’t see, they could steal my things or take photos to spread rumors about my ‘loose morals.’ Zhao Manlin warned them privately several times before finally exploding that’s when they stopped. After that, I basically only associated with Zhao Manlin.”

“Night or day makes little difference to a blind person like me. The only distinction is that people exclude you openly in daylight, while at night they follow with darker intentions. Fresh out of college, you’re expected to marry some Alpha and bear children. Neighbors who dictate your life from their cozy greenhouses will slam their doors at the first sign of your troubles.”

“Could you still consider them your comrades fighting alongside you?”

Yu Zhiwan posed the question bluntly.

If Pei Yujiang had been the self-righteous “world-saver” from her stereotypes, she might have pontificated about how many innocent people still needed saving and how such resentment was wrong. But after carefully considering every word of Yu Zhiwan’s story, Pei Yujiang found she couldn’t muster a single judgmental or conciliatory response.

“No,” Pei Yujiang answered. To ensure Yu Zhiwan understood, she grasped the Omega’s hand and pressed it against her own cheek, shaking her head slowly but firmly.

Yu Zhiwan seemed different from other Omegas not particularly petite, with genetic advantages suggesting an impressive figure if she could stand.

Omega’s hands weren’t particularly small, with slender, elongated fingers. Yu Zhiwan possessed hands perfectly suited for playing the piano well-proportioned, delicate but not exaggeratedly so.

Her fair skin was evenly toned, with no noticeable discoloration on exposed areas. Her fingernails, likely regularly treated with nail oil, had a translucent pink shell-like sheen. Holding them gave one the urge to handle them with utmost care, as if applying even slightly more pressure might cause harm.

Had Pei Yujiang met Yu Zhiwan for the first time, she might have mistaken her for a piano teacher or an artist. But she had inadvertently brushed against the calluses on Yu Zhiwan’s palms traces left behind in the laboratory.

Fortunately, her hands hadn’t been burned by chemical reagents, nor had she been trapped in that cruel, lightless place. Though Pei Yujiang couldn’t fully comprehend her suffering, listening to Yu Zhiwan recount it felt like a glass knife slicing through her heart, leaving it raw and bleeding.

“You’re crying.”

“I’m not.”

By the time her eyes grew hot, Pei Yujiang had already discreetly pulled her hand away, afraid Yu Zhiwan might feel her tears. This time, she held back, no sobs, no sniffling, just silent weeping. Yet Yu Zhiwan suddenly spoke up, and Pei Yujiang hurriedly denied it, only for her to insist:

“You are crying. Blind people are sensitive, I can tell.”

Pei Yujiang had no idea how she sensed it without any audible cues. Could she smell her tears? That seemed absurd. She sniffled hard.

Having cried twice in one day, her eyes were undoubtedly red and swollen, her image thoroughly ruined. At least Yu Zhiwan couldn’t see otherwise, the embarrassment would have been unbearable.

Pei Yujiang didn’t want to appear weak in front of her, but the old “dust in my eye” excuse would have been too clumsy, practically an admission. So she stayed silent.

Across from her, Yu Zhiwan took a deep breath.

“Stop crying. I have the formula for the zombie virus antidote.”

“Wh—”

Pei Yujiang froze for several seconds. When the words finally registered, her face twisted with excitement.

Tears still streaked her cheeks, but this was the most beautiful sentence she’d ever heard in her life. Yu Zhiwan’s already striking features now seemed godlike to her. Blood rushed to her head, all previous turmoil vanishing, replaced by sheer shock and elation.

Without thinking, Pei Yujiang grabbed Yu Zhiwan’s wrist tightly, uncaring if she hurt the Omega. Her breath slowed, heart pounding violently, barely managing to stammer out fragmented words:

“Wh-where? The formula?”

Her grip was too forceful the first time she’d ever been so rough with Yu Zhiwan. The Omega hissed in pain but didn’t get angry, instead rubbing Pei Yujiang’s head with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“What are you thinking? I only have some initial formulas. I’ve never conducted those experiments, nor had actual zombies to observe and practice on. The later parts require theoretical speculation, I might not be able to accurately match them. And regarding that underground experiment, it involves too many people. If we rashly report it, neither of us will be sitting here talking safely tomorrow.”

Though Yu Zhiwan said this, Pei Yujiang couldn’t help feeling a surge of excitement.

Yu Zhiwan claimed she hadn’t performed those unethical experiments, and Pei Yujiang believed her. After spending so much time together, she could tell that while the female lead might sometimes appear aloof, she was far from being the kind of villain who would actively harm others.

Moreover, logically speaking, Yu Zhiwan had no reason to deliberately deceive her.

Like migratory birds finding companions to rest with in a foreign land, Pei Yujiang felt a surge of warmth well up inside her. She hooked her fingers tightly around the Omega’s and gave them an enthusiastic shake:

“Yu Zhiwan, thank you.”

Yu Zhiwan: Is there anything else you’d like to say?

Pei Yujiang: “You’re my best, most special comrade-in-arms.”

PS: Yu Zhiwan has never conducted any experiments that harmed people.

To those asking if Yujiang has been completely oblivious that’s not the case. She’d already begun to realize her feelings earlier, but because she was so focused on returning home and the bigger mission, she quietly suppressed that spark. Now that Zhiwan is being direct about wanting to collaborate, Yujiang naturally interprets her feelings as camaraderie (since she’s only ever experienced mentor-student bonds and comradeship before, never true romantic love. As for Zhiwan’s feelings toward Yujiang they’re a bit more complicated, so we won’t spoil the details for now.

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