Accidentally Provoked My Archenemy [ABO] - Chapter 23

Sang Yu clicked her tongue in amusement, shifting her body slightly so her back faced the dim light behind her—casting Cheng Yunan entirely in her shadow.

Only the hand at the nape of his neck remained visible.

The neck was a vulnerable area for anyone, but in this world, it was especially so—because the glands were located nearby. As a result, neck protection was one of the first lessons every citizen of the Interstellar

Empire learned.

To have control of someone’s neck was to have their life in your hands.

From a distance, Sang Yu’s actions looked exactly like a threat—or a provocation.

“Cheng Yunan, I’ve already acknowledged what I did wrong before. But when I try to compensate, and you reject it—that’s on you,” she said.

Leaning down again, she brought her lips close to his ear, voice barely above a whisper, laughter suppressed: “Taking a little interest isn’t too much, is it?”

As she spoke, her hand continued to press and knead. She clearly felt him tremble in her arms.

He was completely drained of strength. The sharp stimulation at his nape made it impossible to stand straight, and he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Tears shimmered faintly in his eyes as he leaned, powerless, against her.

He bit his tongue hard, using the pain to stay conscious.

She was being far too reckless.

Tampering with someone’s glands was a crime second only to harming an omega. And right now—he was an omega.

Cheng Yunan closed his eyes, trying to gather the strength to knock her hand away, but Sang Yu’s fingers continued to rise and fall, keeping him pinned in place. He couldn’t even lift his arm.

All he could do was grip her arm as tightly as he could and hiss, “Let… go of me.”

But with the strength he had left, his “tight grip” was barely a touch to Sang Yu. And as for that strained, trembling tone—Sang Yu didn’t take it seriously at all. It didn’t intimidate her; if anything, it made her want to laugh.

“Oh?” she raised her eyebrows, nodding like a student eager to learn. “Is that so?”

With that, she let go and casually stepped back.

Without her support, Cheng Yunan had no strength to keep himself upright. He slumped instantly.

Just as he was about to hit the ground, Sang Yu reached out and pulled him back into her arms.

Half-holding him, she looked down at him with exaggerated concern, feigning innocence. “That won’t do, Cheng classmate. You look sick—you can’t even stand. How could I just let you go like this?”

“That’d make me a terrible person.”

Her right hand returned to its original place, gently pressing and kneading once again.

Cheng Yunan: “……”

If only her hand would behave, he might’ve actually believed her.

“Tell me, Cheng Yunan,” Sang Yu murmured, “if the Cheng patriarch arranges a marriage for you, and you end up marrying an omega… what happens when they find out you’re an omega too?”

“Or worse—what if you never differentiate back into an alpha, and your secret gets exposed? What will the old man do then? Marry you off to some random alpha as a bargaining chip?”

Would they treat you like I am now—completely without restraint, leaving you utterly defenseless?

Maybe it was guilt—maybe it was the reality of Cheng Yunan’s current state—but Sang Yu stopped there, even if her hands didn’t.

Up, press, release. Again and again.

Cheng Yunan didn’t know what she was trying to say anymore. But as her fingers pressed down once more on his gland, he finally couldn’t take it.

He looked up slightly and whispered, “Don’t… don’t touch…”

One more press, and his pheromones might leak.

They weren’t far from the dorms. The Imperial Military Academy had night patrols—at least three shifts rotating around this very area every night, based on his own observations.

And omega pheromones were easy to detect.

If he was exposed… exile would be the only outcome.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Sang Yu didn’t know what was racing through Cheng Yunan’s mind, but she caught the faint hitch in his voice—he was on the verge of tears.

Tch.

She wasn’t really trying to harm his gland. Was he really going to cry?

Suspicious, Sang Yu tilted her head and examined his face: tightly furrowed brows, unfocused eyes, lips slightly red and parted. Then her gaze dropped to the back of his neck.

His collar had been tugged down slightly in the scuffle, revealing a glimpse of his gland.

The night was dark, the light too dim.

Even so, Sang Yu noticed it immediately—his gland was already starting to flush red.

Sang Yu: “…”

Her throat suddenly felt dry. She swallowed and quickly looked away, pretending not to care—but the image burned in her mind.

It had to be her fault.

She hadn’t expected his skin to be so sensitive. She’d been careful, barely using any force—and still, he ended up like this.

No wonder his eyes were watery.

What a sin.

Still, Sang Yu’s expression gave nothing away. Instead, she met his eyes again, lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Cheng Yunan, why are you so delicate now that you’ve become an omega?”

“Hmm?”

Back at the academy, alphas and omegas studied together. Sang Yu had met many omegas—especially top-tier ones, given the Sang family’s status. People like Kong Tan.

Omegas were rare. And rare meant precious. They were protected, revered—and arrogant.

None of them were like Cheng Yunan. Cold, soft.

She let out a muffled chuckle. Cheng Yunan, still leaning against her, noticed her smile and felt the quiet vibrations from her chest. He blinked, dazed for a moment.

If only… if only they could really be like this…

But the thought didn’t last. He quickly forced himself to calm down, lowered his gaze, and whispered hoarsely, “Let me go. I want to go back.”

Sang Yu laughed. “Even if I let you go, you can’t walk.”

“How about this, Cheng classmate—I’m someone who respects my rivals. Since we’ve been enemies, are enemies, and will stay enemies, I’ll offer you a rare kindness. Lean on me and rest, free of charge. Deal?”

She wasn’t saying this just to be annoying—she’d long noticed something odd.

Though Cheng Yunan leaned on her, he wasn’t fully resting his weight. He was secretly bracing himself, as if she were some predator ready to strike. She had only held him to stop him from falling.

He looked up at her, lips pressed tight, saying nothing.

He’d thought he was hiding it well. Didn’t expect her to notice.

She didn’t care.

Ignoring his silent refusal, she stepped back slightly, then pulled him smoothly into a proper hold, redistributing his weight and forcing him to stop resisting.

Cheng Yunan didn’t fight it this time. His body went limp in her arms.

In the silent night, only their mingled breaths remained.

And they were starting to tangle Cheng Yunan’s heart into knots.

In all the years he’d known Sang Yu, aside from two months ago—when he’d first been marked and differentiated into an omega, confused and dependent—this was the only time they’d faced each other so quietly, so closely.

Every other meeting had been tense, filled with conflict.

Mostly her resentment. Toward him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes.

When Cheng Yunan finally regained some strength, Sang Yu moved slightly.

Just as he lifted his head, wondering what she was about to do, she said softly:

“Even if we’re still enemies, I need to warn you.”

“Stay away from Kong Tan.”

…Stay away from Kong Tan?

Why?

Cheng Yunan didn’t understand. His chest tightened inexplicably. He took a deep breath, forced the emotion down, stood shakily, and stepped away from her.

“Why?”

“Why don’t you stay away from him?”

So that’s what tonight was really about?

Not just trying to persuade him to leave the academy—but also to tell him to back off from Kong Tan?

Was that her real goal?

A sudden coldness spread through his chest. Every spot she had touched felt like it was burning—mocking the foolish hopes he’d dared to harbor.

He didn’t dare look at her, afraid he’d see something in her eyes he wouldn’t like.

Sang Yu’s smile faded. She stared for a few seconds, but in the end, she didn’t try to pull him back again.

She lowered her hand.

Cheng Yunan’s reaction confused her. She hesitated for a moment, but chose not to mention the future she knew from the original novel.

Instead, she gave her own reasons.

“Either way, you’ll never have Kong Tan. What’s the point of being close to him? He’s an omega, and now so are you. Central law doesn’t recognize OO relationships.”

“And even if you turn back into an alpha one day—do you really think your Cheng family’s influence will get you anywhere near him?”

She believed her analysis was sound.

Besides, there was one more reason—

Cheng Yunan was a villain in the original story.

True, the plot wasn’t exactly following the original timeline anymore—but who could say it wouldn’t eventually correct itself?

Not that she could say any of that. What was she supposed to do—tell him she was a transmigrator, and both of them were just stepping stones for the protagonist? That they’d end up destroying each other over Kong Tan?

Who’d believe her?

They’d probably call her crazy.

But Cheng Yunan only had one interpretation of her words:

She still hadn’t given up on Kong Tan.
“So, you think you’ll end up with him?” he asked coldly.

“You think you and Kong Tan have a future?”

That bitter taste rose again in his throat. He clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his palms, waiting for her answer.

But Sang Yu neither nodded nor shook her head.

She’d chased Kong Tan for years. Saying “no” now would feel out of character.

Besides, she and Cheng Yunan weren’t even that close—just rivals in love. It wasn’t a question she had to answer.

So, she stayed silent.

He waited.

When all he got was her calm gaze, Cheng Yunan gave a bitter, mocking smile. Then he turned and slowly began walking back toward the dorms.

“Wait—”