Noble Academy's Mob Character: Reborn as the Campus Heartthrob - Chapter 62

Chapter 62: The Beast World 7

Qi Yuan followed Zuo Yu into his cave. Although it wasn’t as large as He Zhou’s, it seemed spacious enough for two people to live comfortably.

Zuo Yu enthusiastically showed Qi Yuan around his humble abode, proudly explaining how he had gradually refined it, inching closer to his ideal living space.

“It’s quite nice,” Qi Yuan complimented.

No matter how you looked at it, Zuo Yu’s cave felt much cozier than He Zhou’s. He Zhou’s cave seemed more like a temporary shelter, with only the bare necessities.

Qi Yuan wasn’t deliberately comparing the two places, but the stark contrast made it impossible not to.

“This is Fragrant Leaf. Try some.”

“He Zhou seems to think we females only like Sweet Fruit, but we have plenty of other favorite snacks, like this Fragrant Leaf. It’s refreshing, soothes the throat, and gets rid of bad breath.”

Qi Yuan took a piece, thinking, This is basically Beast World chewing gum. When he chewed it, it felt much like real-world gum, just less sweet.

“Delicious,” he said.

He genuinely liked the Fragrant Leaf, and Zuo Yu noticed his enthusiasm. He slipped a small handful of the leaves into the small basket Qi Yuan was carrying, which was already filled with Sweet Fruit.

“Eat as much as you want!” Zuo Yu said. “If you run out, just ask me for more!”

“Okay,” Qi Yuan nodded.

A bite of Fragrant Leaf, a bite of Sweet Fruit—quite a complementary pairing.

While their group enjoyed harmonious companionship, the males gathered elsewhere harbored hidden agendas, their undercurrents swirling in unseen corners.

You Yuanxiu spoke first. “I’ve compiled a summary of the recent news circulating on the Continent.”

“First, both female and male members of an Unknown Race have been appearing everywhere. Some claim to have overheard these newcomers stating they are ‘transmigrators,’ not native to this world, and are searching for a way back.”

“Elder Shamans claim they are Divine Envoys sent by the Gods, bringing hope and enlightenment to the Continent’s Beastmen. Others, however, believe they portend disaster and should be expelled.”

He paused, giving them time to react, before continuing, “Which side do you support?”

He Zhou didn’t hesitate. “Disaster has never come from our own kind. Whether the Continent’s original Beastmen or these so-called Unknown Race females and males, neither is the source of calamity…”

He was interrupted mid-sentence by You Qinghe, who, for once, seemed to be thinking clearly.

“The true source of disaster is ambition, isn’t it?”

You Yuanxiu gazed at his younger brother with a strange expression, sensing something was amiss. In his understanding, You Qinghe was never one to meddle in trouble, yet now he seemed to be siding with He Zhou’s aggressive stance.

But why?

He couldn’t immediately grasp the reason.

“This matter requires further deliberation,” Jiang Wang declared. “Our immediate decision is whether to remain neutral or join this chaotic war.”

War meant death. While the Tribe had many males, they couldn’t withstand the ravages of war indefinitely.

Yet neutrality offered no guarantee against surprise attacks from outside tribes. Bloodthirsty attackers wouldn’t care about their neutrality; they’d attack regardless.

The final option—becoming a vassal tribe to another—was one no Beastman would ever choose.

Concessions and displays of weakness wouldn’t solve the problem.

They would only invite more harm.

You Yuanxiu pondered deeply. He believed such a crucial decision required consulting the Tribe members first.

He voiced this sentiment to Jiang Wang, who agreed.

The final consensus was to adopt a non-hostile stance toward the incoming Unknown Race, treating them equally with existing Tribe members—those who worked would not go hungry.

As for joining the war, they would gather all Tribe members at dawn tomorrow to discuss and decide whether to participate.

He Zhou followed the lingering scent trail, searching for Qi Yuan, his thoughts in disarray.

The Shaman was likely right. He couldn’t imagine Qi Yuan choosing to stay for his sake. In a foreign tribe, how could he not yearn for home, for his Mate Father and Male Father?

Though He Zhou desperately wanted Qi Yuan to stay, he couldn’t force him.

The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly.

Qi Yuan sat on the ground, massaging his ankle. He had twisted it accidentally earlier. Compared to the robust constitutions of the Beastmen, humans were undeniably fragile.

Zuo Yu crouched beside him, utterly helpless. This was the first time he’d seen someone’s ankle swell up so badly from such a minor twist.

He wanted to fetch medicine from the Shaman but couldn’t bring himself to leave Qi Yuan alone, fearing for his safety.

Just as he was tearing his hair out in indecision, He Zhou appeared.

Frowning, He Zhou knelt before Qi Yuan, gently touching his ankle, barely daring to apply any pressure.

How could the injury be so severe? he wondered.

“What happened?”

All thoughts of Qi Yuan’s departure vanished, replaced by urgent concern for his injury.

His tone carried an edge of accusation.

Qi Yuan quickly grabbed He Zhou’s arm, gently calling his name, “He Zhou.”

Meeting He Zhou’s gaze, he explained, “I accidentally twisted my ankle. I’m fine. Can you carry me back? I have red chili oil in my bag. Massaging it with that will make it feel better quickly.”

He opened his arms, gesturing for He Zhou to carry him.

Without the slightest hesitation, He Zhou securely lifted Qi Yuan into his arms.

Pale and sweating from the pain, Qi Yuan leaned weakly against He Zhou’s chest, still remembering to reassure the red-eyed, worried Zuo Yu.

“Zuo Yu,” he called out softly.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“How about we go pick Sweet Fruits together in a few days?”

Zuo Yu pursed his lips and nodded emphatically.

Looking at Qi Yuan, he said, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Watching the pair leave, Zuo Yu began gathering the scattered Sweet Fruits, a wistful thought suddenly rising in his mind:

If only I were a male, not a female.

If I were a male, wouldn’t it be me holding Qi Yuan right now, not He Zhou?

He chuckled bitterly, wiped the dust off a Sweet Fruit, and popped it into his mouth. The syrupy sweetness burst across his palate, but the bitterness in his chest remained unchanged, growing heavier instead.

He Zhou quickened his pace home, his face etched with worry.

He soon reached the cave, gently setting Qi Yuan down. Removing Qi Yuan’s shoes took some time; He Zhou slowed his movements considerably, careful not to cause any further pain.

Qi Yuan’s foot was now even more swollen than before.

After placing his backpack on the bed, Qi Yuan pulled out the red oil. He initially intended to massage it in himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it and could only cast a pleading look at He Zhou.

“He Zhou, could you massage it for me? Please?”

He Zhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he murmured an affirmative.

Kneeling on one knee, he rested Qi Yuan’s injured foot on his thigh.

Qi Yuan first verbally explained how to use the red oil, knowing he wouldn’t be able to speak once He Zhou began the massage.

He Zhou proved to be an excellent student, applying what he’d learned with methodical precision.

He poured the red oil into his palm, first rubbing it to warm it before gently applying it to Qi Yuan’s ankle.

“Hiss… It hurts…”

“Be gentler, He Zhou.”

Tears welled in Qi Yuan’s eyes. He bit his lip, trying to suppress his cries, but a whimper escaped anyway.

For the first time, he felt his body was far too sensitive.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. He awkwardly wiped them away with the back of his hand.

In He Zhou’s eyes, Qi Yuan looked utterly pitiful, stirring both compassion and an unsettling flutter in his heart.