Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 39: Brother, Tone Down Your Resentful Energy, It's Terrifying

Chapter 39: Brother, Tone Down Your Resentful Energy, It’s Terrifying

Are you that eager?

Xu Jiu deliberately flicked his lighter near Xu Yicheng’s bangs, warning him not to come any closer.

Though a few strands did get singed yellow, Xu Yicheng showed no fear. Seeing the tactic was ineffective, Xu Jiu gave up.

The premise of torment requires the other party’s fear—why waste time lighting fires if they’re unafraid?

Imperceptibly, the heavy, damp murkiness in the air descended like pouring rain. The moisture around them grew denser as Xu Yicheng drew nearer, so thick it felt like a thin layer of condensation clung to the skin.

Like an indistinct plastic film wrapping around them, making it hard to breathe.

Xu Jiu searched for the source of the scent, once again suspecting it was the cigarette in his hand. After taking two bland puffs, he listlessly flicked it back and forth between his fingers.

Xu Yicheng considerately offered his palm, hovering it before Xu Jiu.

Xu Jiu shot him a glare and stabbed the cigarette butt straight into the waiting hand. The searing embers caused the palm to jerk violently, but it soon steadied.

Disgusted, Xu Jiu tossed the cigarette butt into the open palm. Tch, scared now? Trying to curry favor?

Only then did Xu Jiu look up at Xu Yicheng.

He couldn’t clearly see through the black-framed glasses into Xu Yicheng’s eyes, only recognizing that same impassive expression. The sins Xu Jiu inflicted upon him were like the wavering thick smoke from the cigarette butt—easily dispersed with a wave or a puff.

It was in this moment he realized he was trapped within those black frames, imprisoned in the hollow black pupils while simultaneously confined by the rigid, cold frames.

Those empty eyes seemed to exist solely to watch him, the reflections in the pupils mirror-clear. When Xu Jiu moved, the reflections moved with him.

He couldn’t distinguish whether the Xu Jiu in the pupils was real, or the one outside them.

The reflections coexisted, influencing each other.

Scared, Xu Yicheng answered Xu Jiu’s question.

Hehe.

A hypocritical smile stretched across Xu Jiu’s face. He clumsily tried to control his pheromone leakage—he didn’t want Xu Yicheng kneeling so easily. He wanted to test using his pheromones to force Xu Yicheng to his knees.

Then step on Xu Yicheng’s face, call him inferior, declare that inferior Alphas are born beneath others, deserve to be bullied.

But the pheromones in the air remained unchanged—still that familiar, discomforting rot and dampness, even more concentrated now.

Immersed in it, Xu Jiu felt less like an urban sophisticate and more like a corpse knocked unconscious and buried in soil, hovering between life and death.

His body, senses, and impending death merged with the decayed animal carcasses and mold-ridden plant debris inherent in the earth.

It seemed Xu Jiu would soon keep them company, becoming foul nutrients beneath the mud.

Xu Jiu didn’t know what his own pheromones smelled like, but he was certain this wasn’t them.

If not his, then only one Alpha remained—

Shocked, Xu Jiu stared at Xu Yicheng.

His hand shot out in a slap that violently whipped Xu Yicheng’s face to the side.

Before Xu Yicheng could turn his head himself, Xu Jiu preemptively clamped a hand around his neck, using his knuckle to press against the side of Xu Yicheng’s jaw and forcing his face forward.

Xu Jiu knew exactly how to inflict the most pain when choking someone—he had been on the receiving end and was all too familiar with it.

His thumb pressed into the center of the thickest vein on the right side of the neck, while his index and ring fingers found the symmetrical vein on the left. Applying pressure simultaneously, his fingertips reddened, sinking deep into the sides of the neck and leaving pronounced indentations.

Whether from genuine lack of air or feigned weakness, Xu Yicheng’s head drooped limply, his chin knocking against Xu Jiu’s hand as if kissing the very hand that brought him pain.

Suffocation also caused his eyelids to droop uncontrollably, leaving only a narrow slit through which they trembled—a sign of his eyeballs quivering with unease.

Yet it was hard to tell whether it was a tremor of pleasure, a shudder of agony, or a mix of both.

His lashes obscured Xu Jiu’s view, blocking his scrutiny of the man before him.

Xu Yicheng’s right hand was behind his back, subtly signaling the pale-faced employees standing against the office wall to leave quickly.

Xu Jiu glanced briefly at the three employees, letting out a derisive snort that sent them trembling as they scrambled out of the office without looking back.

They’re afraid of me. Aren’t you?

Xu Jiu asked Xu Yicheng, though he didn’t expect an answer. His grip tightened, the bones in his hands straining and veins bulging, as if about to burst through the thin skin on the back of his hand.

He savored the contorted expression of pain on Xu Yicheng’s face like an afternoon treat, enjoying it with a smile.

Watching a lifeless face crumble under his cruelty was indeed deeply satisfying.

Xu Jiu never tired of it.

He even wondered what expression Cao Weidong from the previous world had worn upon seeing his corpse.

He must have suffered even more than Xu Yicheng now.

Thinking he could tame a fierce dog like Xu Jiu and claim him as his own—he deserved the collapse of that beast breaking free.

Abruptly, Xu Jiu released his grip.

Xu Yicheng stumbled forward, collapsing into Xu Jiu’s arms.

One hand braced against the desk, Xu Jiu picked up the untouched iced Americano and took a reflexive sip.

The bitterness made his face twitch violently, but to maintain the atmosphere he had carefully crafted, he swallowed the astringent taste and calmly uttered three words:

Did you enjoy it?

The corner of Xu Jiu’s mouth twitched uncontrollably, the bitterness feeling as if he had swallowed a piece of sodium metal—exploding from the moment it touched his tongue, all the way down his throat, leaving nothing untouched, his stomach churning in revolt.

After the bitterness, a wave of nausea slammed against his tightly clenched lips.

Xu Yicheng pressed against Xu Jiu, his head resting weakly on Xu Jiu’s shoulder at first, but then he actively turned, his face nearly kissing Xu Jiu’s neck, nestling into the hollow of his collarbone.

Yes. As Xu Yicheng spoke, his lips inevitably brushed against Xu Jiu’s neck—exactly as he intended.

Lost in the sour bitterness of the iced Americano, Xu Jiu’s consciousness seemed to drift away.

Xu Yicheng had no choice but to tighten his hands pressed against Xu Jiu’s sides, almost clamping him like a vise. With one leg, he forced his way between Xu Jiu’s hanging legs, deliberately pushing deepest into the space.

Only when Xu Jiu’s body stiffened did Xu Yicheng slightly lift his head, his lips slowly moving from Xu Jiu’s neck to his earlobe.

Feels damn good.

A deliberate cold breath teased Xu Jiu’s earlobe, sending a violent chill coursing through his body.

Fuck! A harsh curse leaped from Xu Jiu’s lips.

It wasn’t until Xu Yicheng completely trapped him between his arms that Xu Jiu belatedly realized the one who thought he held the initiative was, in fact, utterly passive.

That slap had left an eerie smile on Xu Yicheng’s face, as if he’d enjoyed being hit.

Xu Jiu popped open the lid of his iced Americano, tilted his wrist, and poured it over Xu Yicheng’s head with a splash—the liquid cascaded down, followed by the empty cup clattering against his body.

Per-vert.

Xu Jiu seized the moment to escape Xu Yicheng’s grasp, though not entirely—shifting from sitting on the edge of the table to sitting atop it, his long, slender legs crossed stiffly.

His bright eyes watched Xu Yicheng warily, afraid he might cross the line.

Xu Jiu tried once more to release his pheromones.

A Superior Alpha’s pheromones could suppress any inferior ABO.

But Xu Yicheng’s hand shot out and gripped the back of Xu Jiu’s neck.

The pain twisted Xu Jiu’s features into a contorted mess.

You have no pheromones, Xu Yicheng stated calmly.

Xu Yicheng’s hair clung wetly to his face, the brown liquid staining his clothes like dye. Especially on his white shirt, it had completely changed color, spots spreading like bloodstains, stubbornly adhering and emitting the sour bitterness of coffee beans.

The air was already stifling and foul; the added astringent coffee beans left little clean oxygen remaining.

Xu Jiu’s airways were soiled by his own doing, unable to catch even a trace of his own scent—he had become a specimen under another’s paintbrush, subject to arbitrary coloring.

Clenching his teeth, Xu Jiu dragged out a pained curse through gritted lips: You—mother—fucker.

Xu Yicheng added, I have them. Smell mine.

Suddenly, the humidity in the air surged intensely.

The rotten, damp stench nearly smothered Xu Jiu completely. The heavy rain-like aura blurred the air, his vision, and the boundaries—no one could tell how close the two were getting or when it would stop.

Like positive and negative poles, they were uncontrollably drawn together.

Until not a sliver of air remained between them, leaving no extra space.

Xu Jiu mustered all his strength to pull himself from the muddy swamp, pressing both hands against Xu Yicheng’s shoulders to push him away.

Aren’t you supposed to hate me? Where’s the hatred?

Xu Jiu’s voice trembled uncontrollably; it sounded less like a fierce rebuke and more like a petulant challenge, lacking any real force.

Xu Yicheng remained the same as ever—expressionless and listless.

The color in his eyes belonged to Xu Jiu, not himself, every movement of his gaze shifting with Xu Jiu’s whims.

Because his skin was deathly pale, devoid of vitality, the slap mark on his face remained vividly crimson. He pressed his face forward, nearly touching Xu Jiu’s nose, and whispered softly:

Hating alone is meaningless. You should hate me too.

What came from Xu Yicheng’s mouth sounded less like hatred and more like pity.

A plea for Xu Jiu to pity him.

Xu Yicheng was too close.

So the scent of pheromones seeped unreservedly into Xu Jiu’s mind.

His head spun dizzily, and the blood vessels in his eyes defiantly surfaced like spilled ink, twisting and spreading along predetermined trails to cover the whites of Xu Jiu’s eyes.

A terrifying thought abruptly surged forth.

He wanted to take off his clothes.

An even more horrifying notion followed.

He wanted to take off Xu Yicheng’s clothes.

Xu Jiu’s body uncontrollably softened into Xu Yicheng’s embrace.

Yet he still strained to tilt his head back, pressing both hands against Xu Yicheng’s face to push him away, seeking relief from the lingering coolness in his palms to dispel the feverish heat consuming his body.

Get lost!

Xu Jiu once again growled a muffled, indistinct curse from his throat.

He didn’t dare open his mouth—he’d seen this scenario with Cao Weidong before. It either led to a fight, a fight in bed, or a fight while in bed.

Xu Jiu’s head bent backward at a frightening angle. Even under the pheromones’ influence, his resistance was unwavering. He’d rather break his own body in half than let Xu Yicheng lay a hand on what would then be a corpse.

Seeing Xu Jiu like this, a faint, eerie smile twisted onto Xu Yicheng’s gloomy face—distorted and unnatural, like a corpse suddenly grinning on its own.

He deliberately pushed his face forward again, making Xu Jiu’s arms tremble as he shoved back harder, his bent head emitting more slurred but deeply resentful curses.

Xu Yicheng took a deep, controlled breath, carefully releasing the tension pent up in his chest.

He found Xu Jiu utterly adorable.

So adorable he wanted to strangle him with his hands, to crush and burst that flushed face raging with fury, then squeeze him tightly into an embrace until his body shattered completely.

Xu Yicheng restrained himself.

He only thought Xu Jiu was too adorable, which is why such terrifying ideas emerged. If Xu Jiu were to die, he’d be the first to despair.

Does it smell good? Xu Yicheng deliberately provoked Xu Jiu again.

As expected, a sharp, furious curse pierced the air: Go to hell!

Xu Yicheng breathed in contentedly and closed the distance between them once more: Do you like this scent?

Go to hell go to hell go to hell go to hell go to hell go to hell go to hell—

Xu Jiu’s nails dug into Xu Yicheng’s cheeks, pressing down with all his might, as if he wished to tear, shred, and grind the face before him into pieces to feed to the dogs.

Do you know what marking is? Xu Yicheng thought that if Xu Jiu didn’t know, he wouldn’t mind explaining—and perhaps witness that face contort in terrified panic.

With luck, Xu Jiu might even plead shamelessly for mercy.

Xu Jiu seemed to have lost all strength and tactics, lying limp and lifeless like a dead fish for a long while.

Then, taking advantage of Xu Yicheng’s momentary relaxation, he suddenly lunged forward and threw a punch.

If you really dare do anything to me, I’ll hate you forever!

Forever?

That would be perfect.

Knock knock knock—

The sudden knocking interrupted the tension in the room, and both of them simultaneously stopped their movements, turning their alert gazes toward the office door.

Vice President Xu, the old gentleman requests your presence in his office.

The previous employee hadn’t locked the door when leaving, merely closing it.

If someone outside wanted to, they could push it open and enter at any moment.

And right now, the atmosphere in the office was as thick and cloying as a garish pink-purple mire, damp and disgustingly sticky, clinging to every part of both their bodies.

Both were breathing in the extremely uncomfortable damp, moldy air, their feet sinking into the pheromone-woven swamp, half their bodies already completely submerged, unknowingly entangled with each other.

Seizing the moment when Xu Yicheng turned to look, Xu Jiu reacted first. Placing his shoe near Xu Yicheng’s waist, he delivered a kick with enough force to shatter the kidneys beneath the skin.

Xu Yicheng was forced back two steps by the kick, his brow slightly furrowed as he raised a hand to brush the dust from his clothes before turning to open the door.

Vice President Xu, what happened to your face?

Scratched by a cat.

Then… what about your clothes?

The cat knocked over the coffee.

Xu Yicheng spoke lightly, wiping away the excess blood from his face as he stepped past the speaker and walked out.

Tell the old gentleman I’ll be there after changing clothes.

The door closed behind Xu Yicheng, blocking the not-entirely-friendly curious gazes from outside.

Xu Jiu immediately scrambled off the desk, almost crawling in his awkward rush to the window. He threw it open, sticking his head out to cleanse his nostrils of the damp, rotting earth smell with the clean air outside.

It wouldn’t wash clean.

It simply wouldn’t wash clean.

Even with Xu Yicheng gone, he could still smell that scent emanating from his own glands.

He’d practically been marinated in Xu Yicheng’s essence, as if his very blood now flowed with Xu Yicheng’s pheromones instead of blood.

Just like—a marked Omega!

Xu Jiu pressed his hands hard against his head, forcibly shaking off the thought.

Impossible impossible impossible!

No matter how much Xu Jiu protested verbally, half a minute later he was still driving into a private hospital with a shocked, unwilling expression, rushing straight to the doctor’s examination room. He grabbed the clothes of the person being examined, shoved a wad of money at them, and forcefully cut in line.

Doctor! I’m not an Omega, right?!

You’re not. You just have Pheromone Deficiency Syndrome. If this condition is affecting your personal matters, I can prescribe some Alpha pheromone inducers with their own scents to help compensate.

Xu Jiu took a deep breath. Good, that’s good.

So I can’t be marked by others, right?

Theoretically, no.

The doctor paused to catch his breath, stopping there.

Before the doctor could continue, Xu Jiu was already walking out, muttering Just you wait under his breath.

Unless the other party is an Enigma, who can transform a marked Alpha into an Omega.

By the time the doctor finished this second part, Xu Jiu had already disappeared from sight. With the next patient already pushing in for examination, the doctor couldn’t free himself to go after Xu Jiu.

Xu Jiu returned home, and Xu Yicheng had already finished work for the day.

When Xu Jiu’s mother and father saw him return, they immediately went up to greet him, ruffling his hair and pinching his cheeks while asking where he had been and what he had done that day.

Sweet-tongued Xu Jiu could effortlessly fabricate stories even after a day of mischief, stating without batting an eye:

Today at the company, I learned a lot from the seniors, but I’m still clumsy—not as capable as Dad who can handle everything independently.

I heard you went to see your brother today.

Xu Jiu’s face instantly fell. He said nothing, yet his expression made it clear to everyone that he was unhappy.

Xu Yicheng was like a ghost living in this household—his presence made no difference, nor did his absence. A perpetually solitary figure exuding an aura of lifelessness, he was hardly likable.

If not for his blood ties to the family and his intelligence that could help share Xu Jiu’s future burdens—had either condition been missing—he would never have been brought back to this home.

Xu Jiu turned his head and looked.

Just then, his eyes met Xu Yicheng’s.

Xu Jiu raised his brows, flashed a provocative smile, and mouthed a curse word soundlessly.

From a distance, Xu Yicheng watched Xu Jiu. He held no longing for familial affection; his interest lay solely in Xu Jiu.

So when Xu Jiu actively met his gaze, he caught it steadily, meticulously tracing every movement of Xu Jiu’s parting lips, analyzing the complete message Xu Jiu sent him:

Drop dead.

At the dinner table for four, Xu’s Father and Xu’s Mother left for a walk after finishing their meal, leaving a cup of warm milk on the table for Xu Jiu with instructions to drink it properly.

Thus, only Xu Yicheng and Xu Jiu remained seated across from each other.

The moment the villa door clicked shut, Xu Jiu immediately snatched a plate from the table and hurled it at Xu Yicheng’s face, shouting with a laugh the words he hadn’t voiced earlier:

Drop dead!

The plate flew out, shattering into countless ceramic fragments.

In the blink of an eye, the sharp edges of the shards carved numerous bloody gashes across Xu Yicheng’s face.

When all the fragments clattered to the floor with a chilling crash,

Xu Jiu saw a sharp triangular piece embedded under Xu Yicheng’s right eye, the flesh torn open into a gruesome, gaping wound. The shard was lodged deep in the skin, blood gushing out from both sides.

Such a horrifying injury was something even Xu Jiu hadn’t anticipated.

Before Xu Yicheng could react, Xu Jiu abruptly stood up from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor with a piercing screech.

Xu Yicheng calmly set down his chopsticks. He stared at Xu Jiu, seeing his own reflection in Xu Jiu’s eyes.

In contrast to Xu Jiu’s alarm, he remained remarkably composed—so calm it was as if the body weren’t his own, as if it could simply be replaced if ruined. The lifeless aura around him surged unrestrained through the torn flesh.

Slowly, Xu Yicheng raised his hand, pinched the exposed corner of the shard, and forcibly pulled the embedded half out of his flesh. The adjacent skin tore apart, revealing a nauseating, outward curl.

Xu Jiu’s face contorted just from watching, yet throughout the entire process, Xu Yicheng merely gazed expressionlessly at Xu Jiu, as calm as if he were wiping dust from his face.

Even as crimson blood, so dark it appeared black, surged violently from the bottomless fissure, even as the right side of his face was torn to the point of near disfigurement, even as his body seemed on the verge of rotting away—

Xu Yicheng remained utterly unresponsive.

The pungent, overpowering stench of blood rapidly saturated the air between them.

Trembling, Xu Jiu pulled a cigarette from his pocket, quickly lit it, and took a drag to steady his nerves.

He forced himself to glare back defiantly, even as his clear pupils were stained filthy by the terrifying black-red bloodshot veins, refusing to turn his head away.

Xu Yicheng raised his hand again, smearing the blood beneath his eyes until even his facial features were blurred by the crimson hue.

It wasn’t the porcelain plate that seemed shattered—it was Xu Yicheng himself, fragmented by the blood into many living pieces.

In each patch of red blood, eyes struggled to emerge, their pupils turning stiffly and mechanically before locking uniformly onto Xu Jiu’s location once they detected his presence.

Xu Jiu witnessed the entire transformation clearly.

He rubbed his eyes hard—once, and Xu Yicheng’s extra eyes vanished; but with another rub, they reappeared.

Slowly, Xu Jiu lifted his gaze to look at Xu Yicheng.

Xu Yicheng seemed to be smiling, saying with a grin, Sorry, my clothes tore. Couldn’t hide them anymore.

Xu Jiu took a step back, then another, only to abruptly bump into a warm, solid chest behind him.

Terrified, Xu Jiu shut his eyes.

The next second, a cold breath blew against him from behind.

When Xu Jiu looked straight ahead—he discovered that Xu Yicheng, who should have been sitting there, had vanished!

Xu Jiu let out a sharp, horrified scream, and at the same time, he realized he could open his eyes again while already having them open.

This time, the darkness before him felt as if he had been buried in a coffin—shifting from brightness to utter blackness.

Yet the soft slope of the pillow beneath him and the familiar, blank scent of his room reminded Xu Jiu that this was his bedroom, hinting that he could relax.

Was it a nightmare? Xu Jiu muttered to himself.

Was it? he questioned himself.

He tentatively reached out with his right hand, cautiously feeling around beside him, until his restless hand was abruptly pinned down from above by another, larger hand.

A man’s voice cut coldly into his senses.

Baby, it’s very late. You should be sleeping.