Accidentally Provoked My Archenemy [ABO] - Chapter 16
“Do you need something?”
“If not, then please get out of our dorm.”
Cheng Yunan struggled to suppress the physical and emotional pain wracking his body, but his voice still trembled slightly, carrying a faint, nearly undetectable quiver.
Sang Yu frowned and stepped forward, leaning in until they were nearly nose to nose, her gaze distant and cold. “If I came to find you, then yes—I need something.”
“So, move.”
She didn’t think too hard about it, nor did she care about Cheng Yunan’s current state. She simply reached out, wrapped an arm around his waist, and forcibly moved him aside without giving him any room to refuse.
Cheng Yunan couldn’t fight back. In the end, he was dragged away by her arm, powerless.
As soon as he was out of the way, the thing behind him came back into Sang Yu’s line of sight.
A trash bin.
There wasn’t much in it, but a tightly wrapped black plastic bag caught her eye.
It was sealed tight—nothing visible from the outside—but based on the shape, it looked very much like a standard injection kit.
She bent down to pick it up—only to be stopped again. Cheng Yunan grabbed her wrist firmly, refusing to let her touch it.
“Leave,” he rasped, voice hoarse and tinged with unshakable resolve.
“A secret?”
Sang Yu didn’t withdraw her hand, nor did she push forward. She simply stared at him.
“Leave.”
Cheng Yunan insisted more firmly this time. Sang Yu locked eyes with him for a long moment. He didn’t back down. She considered using her usual scare tactics to pressure him—but ultimately, she just slowly pulled her hand back.
Cheng Yunan immediately let go, as if burned.
Seeing the pale color of his lips and the flush at the corners of his eyes, Sang Yu sighed inwardly. Her lips parted, but no words came. In the end, she turned and left for her own dorm.
As she stepped out the door, her cool voice drifted back:
“I’m next door. If you need anything, tell me.”
He didn’t reply.
The moment the door closed and locked behind her, Cheng Yunan collapsed weakly onto the floor, clutching his arm.
After resting a bit, he forced himself onto his bed, wrapping his increasingly flushed skin in the thin blanket, his breathing shallow.
His consciousness blurred, but one thing lingered—Sang Yu’s frowning brows and cold voice.
It stung in ways he couldn’t explain.
Pain throbbed through his body in waves. His heart clenched tight with bitterness. Only after who knows how long did Cheng Yunan finally fall into a heavy sleep, worn out in both body and mind.
Sang Yu, of course, knew none of this.
After returning to her dorm, whatever lingering anger she had mysteriously dissipated after the encounter with Cheng Yunan. She stared blankly for a while, then opened her communicator and called Gu Amo.
“Hello? Sang-jie, did you make it back to the dorm?”
Hearing Gu Amo’s cheerful voice as he munched on breakfast only made Sang Yu’s temper flare again. She sighed in frustration, switching off the video feed and leaving only audio.
“Go knock on my neighbor’s door. Pick something up for me.”
“Oh, right away, Sang-jie!”
“Make it quick.”
“…”
While waiting, Sang Yu didn’t want to sit, couldn’t stand comfortably either. She leaned against her desk, idly fiddling with a pen.
Her thoughts were in turmoil—all of them centered around Cheng Yunan.
All of them.
…
“Sang-jie, I’ve got what you asked for! Want me to open it for you?”
“No need. I’ll get the door.”
When the communication came through, Sang Yu was in the middle of a cold shower. She dried off quickly, threw on some clothes, and opened the door.
“Give it to me.”
“Here.” Gu Amo handed over the black trash bag eagerly, face lit up with curiosity.
“Sang-jie, did you find some secret weapon to take down Cheng-whatever-his-name-is?”
Otherwise, why would she be digging through the trash?
Sang Yu: “…”
She didn’t open it right away to confirm her suspicion. Instead, she clenched her jaw, tongue pressing hard against her molars, until finally—thud!—she kicked Gu Amo out the door.
“Wait outside.”
Gu Amo: “Oh…”
After shutting the door, Sang Yu opened the trash bag and pulled out the tightly wrapped black package she’d seen earlier.
Just as she suspected.
Inside were old-style needles and syringes, along with a broken glass vial with no label.
Sang Yu’s expression darkened.
After tossing the rest of the garbage into her own bin, she took out a sterile zip bag from her backpack, carefully sealed the two items inside, and stashed them in a locked drawer at the bottom of her desk.
Only then did she reopen the door and let Gu Amo back in.
“Was there any commotion over there?”
“Nope.”
“What did you say to get them to hand it over?”
“I said Cheng Yunan was a lawless jerk who messed around with an Omega and refused to take responsibility. You, Sang-jie, went to get justice—and Cheng Yunan destroyed the evidence and threw you out.”
“And that the only evidence left was in the trash.”
Sang Yu clenched her fist. “You really know how to spin a story, don’t you?”
Cheng Yunan was an Omega himself. Where would he get the nerve—or opportunity—to “mess around” with another one?
Even if he wanted to be a scumbag, he didn’t have the capability!
“Sang-jie,” Gu Amo’s tone turned serious as he caught the shift in her expression, “There’s already a thread about you, Bai Ren, and Kong Tan’s ‘love-hate entanglement’ on the freshman forum.”
“Bai Ren’s lackeys are claiming you’ve been permanently kicked out by him. Next up are the rest of us small fry.”
He opened his smart brain, logged into the Imperial Military Academy forum, and pulled up the post as proof.
Sure enough—ruthless words, dramatized stories.
It even included an incident from the freshman registration day: one of Kong Tan’s admirers had been beaten into submission by Bai Ren.
In the middle of the athletic field, beneath the four academic buildings, he had cursed out Sang Yu, Wang Zhejia, Lu Zisu, and others. It was a long, drawn-out spectacle that only ended late into the night.
After that, someone posted this “tragic love triangle” story on the forum’s freshman board. The thread exploded—thousands of comments carried the discussion into the next day.
Heh.
Rather than rage, Sang Yu’s anger cooled, replaced by a mocking smirk.
“He really knows how to make a name for himself.”
Gu Amo looked like he wanted to say more, but she raised a hand to silence him.
Rubbing her aching temple, she asked, “When are the class assignments coming out?”
She couldn’t wait to teach Bai Ren another lesson.
“Should be tonight.”
“Good.”
…
After obtaining the evidence and catching up with Gu Amo on the school gossip, Sang Yu dismissed him and told him to take everyone in room 602 out for lunch.
Thanks to Gu Amo’s stirring, Cheng Yunan’s roommates were already sick of him and were all too happy to see Sang Yu knock him down a peg.
Sang Yu didn’t offer him a chance to explain. It was lunch hour, and she made it sound like a treat—“thanking them” for their help by buying them a meal.
Then she returned to dorm 602 with the “evidence” in hand.
This time, she didn’t knock.
She used Gu Amo’s portable fingerprint replicator—“One-Tap”—to unlock the door.
After opening it, she didn’t rush in to confront Cheng Yunan. Instead, she turned to face the doorway and called softly:
“Cheng Yunan, can we talk?”
She kept her eyes on the door, patiently waiting for a reply.
She had to talk to him.
That’s why she came in without warning—not to do anything reckless, but because she feared he wouldn’t open the door or answer her.
No response.
She called again.
Still nothing.
Suspicion rising, Sang Yu finally turned around.
He was in bed.
A small lump under the blanket. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep or unconscious.
Cautiously, she approached, calling his name again.
Still no answer.
With growing concern, she lifted the blanket slightly—only to find Cheng Yunan curled up inside, drenched in sweat, eyes shut tight.
Was this… a heat cycle?
Or a reaction from the drugs?
For a split second, Sang Yu’s heart jumped into her throat.
She reached out to touch his forehead—no fever. Only then did she feel a bit of relief. He’d merely fallen into a deep sleep.
But why did he seem so… exhausted?
“Cheng Yunan?”
“Cheng Yunan?”
She gently nudged him through the blanket. Still no response. Eventually, she gave up on waking him.
She messaged Gu Amo, asking him to keep Cheng Yunan’s roommates occupied for a while longer. Then she pulled a chair to his bedside and sat down quietly to wait.
She thought about leaving. After all, Cheng Yunan was an Omega.
But she couldn’t help worrying. So, she stayed.
Her gaze drifted to his face.
This was the first time she had looked at him so carefully.
His sleeping posture was terrible—curled tightly beneath the blanket, brow furrowed, soaked in sweat. His forehead, brows, even the bridge of his nose glistened with moisture. She could feel the heat rising from his breathing.
Sang Yu couldn’t bear it and tried pulling the blanket open to cool him off.
But Cheng Yunan instinctively recoiled, curling up even tighter.
Like a snail retreating into its shell.
Seeing him shrink into himself, she stopped and tugged the blanket gently back over him.
Only then did his tense body begin to relax.
Bored from sitting, and with no interest in forums or social feeds, Sang Yu rested her chin on her hand and began to doze lightly beside him.
The first thing Cheng Yunan saw when he opened his eyes…
…was her.
Her casual uniform draped loosely over her body, her defined collarbones, her bright red lips, and her cool, aloof face.
He thought he was dreaming.
Clutching the blanket, he didn’t even dare to blink. He wanted to reach out—touch her hand, her lips—but he didn’t dare. His hand hovered in the air, tracing her outline over and over again without making contact.
He didn’t dare touch.
He missed her terribly.
But he feared that in the next moment, this beautiful dream would shatter—and Sang Yu would look at him with that cold, familiar face and say, as she always had:
“Get lost.”