Killing Marriage [ABO] - Chapter 8

 Chapter 8: Captain

“Makka Pakka, Akka Wakka, Meekaa Makka Moo!”

Ren Zhong never dreamed that his home TV would one day loudly play a children’s program.

And this child seemed incredibly bored.

Mili’s beautiful little face had no qualms about making silly faces, instantly rolling two crystal-clear white eyes. “Uncle Ren, this cartoon is for zero to four-year-olds. I’m seven already! I’ll be in second grade next semester!”

“Oh,” Ren Zhong impassively turned off the TV. “Since you’re in school, you should study hard. Don’t watch TV, go do your homework. The study is on the second floor, feel free to use it.”

At the mention of “homework,” Mili’s expression instantly turned constipated.

But she quickly adapted her strategy, saying, “Don’t you know the Ministry of Education stipulates that elementary first, second, and third graders aren’t allowed to have homework?”

Ren Zhong scoffed, “Do you think I never went to school?”

Just then, Zhang Qingyuan walked out with a smile, bending down to meet Mili’s eye level. “I’ve already got today’s study plan from your mom. You need to write two pages of calligraphy practice, and one page each of math, Chinese, and English workbooks, right?”

In the face of homework, Mili lost her soul.

She simply surrendered to Zhang Qingyuan, utterly subdued by his teaching.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs. I’ll accompany you while you do your homework. When you’re done, Uncle Ren will play with you.” Zhang Qingyuan skillfully coaxed the child, taking Mili’s hand and walking up to the second floor, leaving Ren Zhong with two backs, one large and one small.

He had just been tidying up dishes in the kitchen and hadn’t had time to take off his apron. The warm color embraced his waistline, and the soft fabric was tied in a beautiful bow at the center of his lean lower back.

This figure truly resembled a young, good househusband and father.

Ren Zhong felt a chill.

To be honest, Ren Zhong wasn’t particularly fond of children or family life.

Everyone said that Omegas were naturally gentle, delicate, and liked children, a kind of creature whose hearts would melt at the sight of a child.

But Ren Zhong wasn’t like that, never had been.

Perhaps there weren’t as many Omegas who naturally liked children as people imagined. It was just that people believed Omegas should be assigned this task and should like this “destiny.”

Ren Zhong had switched the TV to a military channel.

This episode of the military documentary was a special on special forces training, showcasing obstacle course training. Hook ladder climbing, barbed wire crawls, shooting, combat boot weighted swimming, parachuting…

Damn, it’s igniting!

Ren Zhong felt a surge of passion in his chest, every limb crying out for a training session that pushed his physical limits.

Since his “injuries were minor, and the wounds were on the extremities of his body,” and he could even engage in that damned marital duty, why couldn’t he continue training?

Ren Zhong locked the wheels of his wheelchair, gripped the armrests, and pushed himself up, doing supported leg raises while watching TV, imagining himself on the training ground.

He hadn’t even done a few sets when he just started to feel his body warm up and a thin layer of sweat form.

Suddenly, the TV changed channels.

The news anchor, impeccably dressed in formal attire, instantly doused Ren Zhong’s training enthusiasm.

Zhang Qingyuan held the remote control, not speaking, just looking at Ren Zhong with an expression that was four parts concern, three parts reproach, and two parts annoyance. As if he were a petulant young wife, asking, “Do you know you made a mistake? What was it?”

“Captain, I understand how you feel, and I trust you know your limits. But rehabilitation should still be done under a doctor’s guidance, don’t you agree?” He spoke gently, coaxing and advising, “We can go for rehab tomorrow. Let’s rest well today, okay?”

If Zhang Qingyuan’s attitude had been even slightly more assertive, Ren Zhong would have retorted directly.

But the reality was, not only was Zhang Qingyuan’s tone gentle and his words consultative, he even squatted beside Ren Zhong’s wheelchair, his hands resting lightly on the armrests, looking up at Ren Zhong with the innocent eyes of a small animal.

The last thing to dare look at Ren Zhong with such eyes was Shang Liwei’s ragdoll cat. The eventual result of that staredown was Ren Zhong buying two boxes of cat food online.

“Captain, I’ll be very worried about you if you do this.” Zhang Qingyuan gently pinched a corner of Ren Zhong’s sleeve and shook it.

Ren Zhong’s face was stern, and he withdrew his hand. Though he said nothing, he settled back into his wheelchair and stopped fussing.

To appease the pitiable Captain, Zhang Qingyuan went to the kitchen to get him a drink and even peeled rabbit-shaped apples and plaid-patterned mangoes, his hands so skillful, unlike an Alpha male.

In this world, probably only the term “virtuous wife” could describe such plating artistry and methods of taming mischievous children.

At this moment, the news broadcast on TV caught their attention.

“Next, for a breaking news story. Recently, netizens have reported that AI-monitored marital activity videos have been leaked, with hundreds of couples’ private videos being sold on illegal websites…”

Upon hearing this, both Ren Zhong and Zhang Qingyuan tensed up.

Such a thing happening right after they had just performed that damned duty would make anyone’s heart drop.

“After police investigation, the man’s true identity was found to be an advertising promoter for the illegal website. The website used this as a gimmick to attract paying viewers. At the same time, what they were selling were not real marital activity videos, but rather adult films shot by actors…”

Hearing this, Ren Zhong and Zhang Qingyuan sighed in relief almost simultaneously.

“Good thing it’s fake,” Zhang Qingyuan patted his chest. “You scared me to death.”

“…Currently, the man and other personnel involved in operating the website have been arrested by the police. We reiterate that the Marriage Supervision Center’s confidentiality technology is absolutely secure, so please do not panic…”

Just then, Zhang Qingyuan’s phone rang.

“Hello, it’s me… Mmm, I saw it too…” He gestured with the phone to his ear at Ren Zhong, and left.

Ren Zhong started his wheelchair, switched the TV back to the military channel, but suddenly noticed Mili on the sofa.

Hadn’t this mischievous child gone to do her homework?

“Why are you looking at me? I finished my homework!” Mili crunched on her rabbit apple. “You said I could play after finishing homework.”

Ren Zhong had nothing to say and could only hand the remote control to Mili, letting her entertain herself.

Unexpectedly, Mili directly cast her tablet’s content onto the TV.

Instantly, a strong wave of marketing account aesthetics washed over them.

Overused background music, stiffly synthesized robotic voices, bold red and yellow outlined fonts, and garish, tacky visual effects combined to severely assault Ren Zhong’s aesthetic sensibilities.

“Captain Ren, who gained countless fans with a single speech, has recently had many ‘dark histories’ dug up by netizens. Today, the editor will show you Captain Ren’s major double standards when judging temperature.”

The clip was from an episode of a military channel program.

“Captain Ren once, in fifty seconds, found buried gun parts in scorching sand, assembled them, and fired, hitting the bullseye every time, saying ‘it’s not hot.’ Yet during flood relief efforts, he held an infant from the orphanage with a troubled expression, as if saying ‘this child is too hot to handle.'”

Amidst the deafeningly tacky electronic music, Ren Zhong’s photo holding the child, captioned “This child is too hot to handle,” was magnified, rotated, and subjected to various effects for repeated public humiliation.

In this era, even dark histories were in high definition.

Ren Zhong’s face darkened, and he “whizzed” away in his little wheelchair amidst Mili’s wild laughter.

…

At night, all was quiet.

Ren Zhong drove his small wheelchair into the gym on the second floor.

He didn’t turn on the lights, simply drew back the curtains, and in the moonlight, propped himself up to sit on the upper body exercise machine.

The weights weren’t heavy; it was a weight he could easily lift before his injury, but Ren Zhong felt a distinct strain. The muscle soreness and fatigue came quicker than expected.

He gritted his teeth, continuing to increase the weights according to his original training plan, tensing every inch of muscle he could move.

However, he failed.

The sudden slip caused the weights to drop with a loud thud.

The sound echoed in the cicada-filled night, and also in Ren Zhong’s shattered heart.

Ren Zhong had to admit something.

Not only was he injured, but he was also getting old.

Perhaps “old” was an exaggeration, but he was certainly no longer in his physical peak where his abilities continuously improved. His condition was declining with age and injuries.

No one knew that the video Mili played today had stung him.

It wasn’t because of anything else, but simply because his body no longer allowed him to be as spirited as his former self in the video.

What condition he would recover to after rehabilitation, he didn’t know. Whether he could return to the military after healing, he didn’t know. What he could do in the military after returning, he didn’t know.

No one could give him a precise answer, not even himself.

He felt as if he had fallen into a life trajectory he had struggled to escape, only to be forced back into it. To be an Omega, trapped in a small corner of “family,” a delicate, clingy, “Omega” in heat for an Alpha, who would be a wife and raise children.

A gentle knock sounded on the gym door.

“Captain, are you in there?”

It was Zhang Qingyuan.

Ren Zhong hummed in response.

“Captain, may I come in?” he asked.

Ren Zhong quickly climbed off the machine, propped himself onto the wheelchair, then cleared his throat and said, “Please come in.”

Zhang Qingyuan, wearing soft pajamas, pushed the door open and walked in, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t turn on the lights, just quietly looked at Ren Zhong in the moonlight from outside the window.

He sat on a fitness ball, his gaze level with Ren Zhong’s.

“Captain, is something wrong?”

His gaze, infused with the moonlight, was full of tenderness.