Chapter 29: Seeing a Doctor
Having already crossed over into this world, Jiang Rong naturally couldn’t get answers about pheromone influence between other Omegas and their Alphas.
Whether He Siming was by his side or not, Jiang Rong’s life still had to go on.
On Saturday afternoon during his part-time shift, he stood at the counter for three straight hours. His lower back ached even more than before.
Employees often smoked at the café’s back door. When Jiang Rong went to the storage room next to the kitchen to fetch ingredients, the strong smell of cigarette smoke made his stomach churn again. This was already the third time he had thrown up that afternoon.
“Ugh—”
He threw up his lunch again. Jiang Rong rinsed his mouth with water, wiped away the tears brought on by the nausea, and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed red from vomiting.
When he came out, the churning in his stomach finally calmed down a bit. His complexion looked worse with each passing day. He didn’t know if this was delayed acclimation sickness or something else.
Even the manager noticed something was wrong. “Jiang Rong, did you eat something bad? I’ve seen you running to the bathroom to vomit all afternoon.”
Jiang Rong didn’t know how to explain it. “Maybe.”
The manager advised him, “If you’re not feeling well, remember to see a doctor. The school clinic has doctors during the day—you can go have them check you. If not now, it’ll be closed later.”
Jiang Rong was basically his money-maker and had to be taken good care of. He hadn’t expected Jiang Rong to be on good terms with both Campus Heartthrob He and Department Heartthrob Song. Ever since he’d shared that little video in the group chat, the café’s daily sales had been climbing steadily.
If Jiang Rong was doing well, the café did well. If the café did well, his own income improved!
For the healthy development of the café, he couldn’t let an employee come to work looking pale and lifeless.
Jiang Rong nodded. “Okay, thank you, Manager.”
Maybe he really should see a doctor—whether it was acclimation sickness or something he’d eaten. Randomly guessing his illness wouldn’t help at all.
It was already seriously affecting his daily life. He couldn’t eat, and if this continued, he’d ruin his stomach from all the vomiting. The most obvious sign was that he’d lost several pounds recently—his chin had become noticeably sharper.
Was this what they called misfortune upon misfortune? Becoming an Omega was bad enough—could he really have caught some kind of serious illness too?
That day, Jiang Rong ended his Saturday shift early, collected his wages for the week, and headed straight for the school clinic.
The last time he’d been here was when he’d made a huge blunder, accompanying He Siming to stop a nosebleed. Thinking back, the whole thing was pretty funny.
But this time, coming alone, he felt a bit sad. Could the doctors here really figure out what was wrong with him?
Although he was also male, his body was slightly different from the men in this world—his internal structure wasn’t quite the same.
He hesitated at the door for a full minute before someone behind him suddenly asked, “Young man, are you here to see a doctor?”
Jiang Rong realized it was the elderly Chinese medicine doctor he’d seen last time. “Hello, Doctor. I haven’t been feeling very well lately and wanted to see what’s wrong.”
The old doctor held an old tea mug, calm and composed, sharp-eyed and energetic, his back straight. It was hard to tell his real age, but since the school had invited him to sit here, he had to be competent. At the very least, he’d stopped He Siming’s nosebleed immediately last time.
“Come in. Let me take a look,” the old doctor said.
Jiang Rong followed him inside and sat in the designated chair. He placed his hands flat on his knees, looking extremely stiff and nervous.
To be honest, he wasn’t even sure whether this was pheromone disorder syndrome. After all, it was his first time being an Omega—he needed a doctor to rule out other causes.
The old doctor saw his nervousness. “Put your right hand out here on the pulse pillow. Don’t be nervous—it’s not like I’m giving you an injection.”
Jiang Rong extended his arm and rested it on the pillow. “Huh? You’re going to give injections too?”
The old doctor began checking his pulse. His previously relaxed expression suddenly changed as he sat up straight.
“Put your left hand up as well.”
As Jiang Rong placed his left hand on the pulse pillow, the old doctor took a pair of reading glasses out of the drawer and put them on—though Jiang Rong wasn’t sure how much glasses helped with pulse-taking.
The doctor’s eyes widened, his expression even more alert. Jiang Rong wondered if he’d found something terrifying.
Panicking, Jiang Rong asked, “Doctor, I don’t have any serious problem, do I?”
“I’ve practiced medicine for many years,” the old doctor said. “I’ve never felt a pulse like this before. The issue could be big or small. Let me ask—what is your gender?”
He’d seen many androgynous-looking youths: girls with hair shorter than boys, boys with hair longer than girls, their appearances hard to distinguish.
The young man in front of him was very good-looking. His Adam’s apple was obvious, and his voice sounded male—he didn’t think he was mistaken, but just in case, he asked.
“My gender is male,” Jiang Rong said firmly. His primary sex.
The old doctor continued taking his pulse. “Let me feel a bit longer. Hopefully I’m not mistaken. Don’t be nervous—the issue isn’t serious.”
Jiang Rong felt like he was being comforted, but still nodded. “Okay.”
The old doctor asked again, “Have you had any physical discomfort recently?”
Afraid he truly had some serious illness, Jiang Rong answered honestly and in detail. “I’ve been feeling nauseous all the time. I can’t eat greasy food. The smell of strong cigarette smoke makes me even more nauseous, and I’ve been extremely sleepy.”
As for pheromones, he chose to hide that for now—he doubted the doctor would believe him anyway. Even He Siming hadn’t believed it, treating it as a kind of flirtation between them, which troubled Jiang Rong greatly.
The old doctor nodded. “Open your mouth. Let me see your tongue coating.”
Jiang Rong opened his mouth.
As the old doctor continued checking his pulse, he pushed his reading glasses up. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Jiang Rong thought he’d misheard. “Huh?”
The old doctor was even more direct. “Have you had sexual activity within the past month?”
Jiang Rong lowered his head slightly. His face was hot enough to boil an egg. “Yes.”
He wasn’t sure whether He Siming counted as his boyfriend—but there definitely had been sexual activity.
Their relationship had started with his sudden differentiation, followed by his heat.
The old doctor said, “Alright. Mainly because you’re a male, I’m worried my diagnosis might not be accurate. My suggestion is that you go to the hospital tomorrow for a B-ultrasound. Once you get the results, you’ll know the cause. Don’t be nervous—you’re probably not sick. From another perspective, this is actually good news.”
“A B-ultrasound? Good news?” Jiang Rong was confused. What was a B-ultrasound?
He’d been vomiting so badly—and this could be good news?
The old doctor wrote him a referral form. “I’ll give you a test order. The address is on it. Tomorrow, take this and look for Dr. Liu Ming. Tell her I sent you—she’ll do a full examination.”
Jiang Rong nodded and carefully put the form away. “What about after the results come out?”
“Come find me, or find her—either is fine.”
Jiang Rong grew more anxious. “Can’t you tell what it is right now?”
“You’ll have results after tomorrow’s examination. Relax. Based on my many years of experience, this is a good thing.”
Without an answer, Jiang Rong walked back toward the dorm in a state of unease.
After leaving the clinic, he sighed at the rows of golden ginkgo trees.
Could it really be some serious illness? But the old doctor had said it was good news.
What kind of good news could it be?
Could it be…
What he was guessing?
Impossible…
No—maybe not impossible…
When Jiang Rong returned to the dorm, he sat there in a daze, not even taking off his coat.
Yao Shule had played out until morning and had just climbed out of bed. Seeing Jiang Rong sitting motionless—not on his phone, not studying, eyes vacant—he yawned and asked, “Jiang Rong, what are you spacing out about? What should we eat tonight?”
Seeing no response, he repeated himself and walked over to pat Jiang Rong on the shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
Jiang Rong jumped. “Nothing.”
“You seem distracted,” Yao Shule laughed. “You look like you’ve just gone through a breakup.”
“I didn’t break up,” Jiang Rong quickly said.
“I’m kidding—don’t take it so seriously,” Yao Shule said breezily. “Stop overthinking. If the sky falls, the taller ones will hold it up first. If it hits anyone, it’ll hit He Siming or Li Yizhou before us—we’ll survive.”
When Yao Shule mentioned He Siming, Jiang Rong forced a smile, tinged with bitterness.
“So what do you want to eat?” Jiang Rong asked. He had no appetite at all.
“Of course, delivery!” Yao Shule grinned. “It’s winter—I’m not going out!”
“Aren’t you not afraid of the cold?” Jiang Rong asked.
“Who said that? It’s freezing here! Who can handle this wind? I sure can’t.”
Jiang Rong thought: He Siming said that.
They ordered takeout. Yao Shule ordered barbecue and recommended Cantonese dim sum and congee for Jiang Rong—his usual place, decent flavor.
Jiang Rong was absent-minded; he didn’t really have opinions on what to order.
Forty minutes for delivery felt like a long time.
Seeing how distracted Jiang Rong was, Yao Shule guessed something was bothering him and decided to help him shift his focus.
“Want to play a game? When I’m in a bad mood, I go online and curse people—it feels amazing. After all, once the match is over, they don’t even know who I am.”
“Does it work?” Jiang Rong asked.
Having grown up in an extremely competitive Beta environment, gaming had always felt like a waste of time. Everyone wished for twenty-five hours in a day to study, afraid they wouldn’t find good jobs after graduation. He’d been the same—eager to escape the shadow his parents cast over him.
“Of course it works!” Yao Shule said. “Download it—I’ll carry you!”
Jiang Rong glanced at his old phone. “My phone might not be able to handle big games.”
Yao Shule immediately pulled out a half-new phone from a drawer. “Use this one first. Just register with your WeChat or phone number.”
With the fully charged phone in hand, Jiang Rong registered an account. “Okay, I’ll practice first.”
Under Yao Shule’s guidance, Jiang Rong quickly got familiar with the interface and practiced hero skills in training mode.
Ten minutes later, Jiang Rong said, “The game’s recommending that I start a match.”
“Wait, I’ll take you,” Yao Shule said. “Pick a hero you like. I’ll jungle and carry you. If you don’t have a hero, I’ll gift you one.”
Jiang Rong got several commonly used heroes. “Okay.”
Playing games really did distract him. As long as he focused enough, he could temporarily forget his worries and stop sinking into anxiety.
Yao Shule got super excited once he started playing. “Charge! Play Daji—she’s easy. Late game, press 2-3-1 and one combo kills. When you’re not fighting, hold onto your second skill to stun people.”
“Got it,” Jiang Rong said. Each skill came with descriptions—easy to understand.
Yao Shule told him to go mid lane to farm. Jiang Rong picked it up quickly, learned how to dodge enemy skills, and by late game, once his hero scaled up, he even learned how to ambush people—one combo really could kill instantly.
The match was pretty intense. At the twenty-minute mark, Jiang Rong’s phone played the kill sound.
“Double Kill!”
“Triple Kill!”
Yao Shule looked at his own stats—4/6/5—then at newbie Jiang Rong’s—7/2/6.
Wuwuwu… how am I supposed to compete with players gifted like this?!
Refusing to believe it, Yao Shule called out before the food arrived. “Jiang Rong, one more match!”
Jiang Rong could vent a bit through gaming. As long as he focused, he didn’t have to think about the possibility of being pregnant.
This round, he still used Daji—and got a Quadra Kill.
Yao Shule screamed, “You liar! You’ve played before, haven’t you? No way a newbie gets a quad kill in their second game!”
Innocently, Jiang Rong said, “I think the controls are pretty simple. Just manage angles, distance, watch the map, and you taught me how to farm. As long as you farm well, don’t miss any minions, you can one-shot people.”
Yao Shule felt oddly comforted. “That is what I said… you just executed it really well.”
Jiang Rong smiled. “It’s pretty fun—simple and easy to pick up.”
(Betas were best at strictly demanding perfection from themselves.)
Wait—he wasn’t a Beta anymore. That was depressing again.
Their phones chimed with victory at the same time. Seeing Jiang Rong earn the Gold Mid badge and MVP, Yao Shule silently put his phone away and checked whether the food had arrived.
At that moment, their dorm door was knocked loudly.
Jiang Rong put his phone down and went to open it.
Ding Yan stood there, panting and bracing himself on the doorframe. “I’m exhausted! You two were in the dorm—why didn’t you reply to messages?”
“What’s up?” Yao Shule asked. “Aren’t you not living on campus?”
“Old He’s looking for Jiang Rong. You didn’t reply to WeChat, so he sent me to run over,” Ding Yan said. “Jiang Rong, hurry and reply to him!”
Jiang Rong hadn’t known He Siming was looking for him. He picked up his phone—no screen. “My phone’s dead.”
“He’s anxious,” Ding Yan said. “Use my phone to contact him first.”
Jiang Rong had just managed to forget about He Siming for a bit, but now he was suddenly reminded. He didn’t want to think about it—but once he heard that He Siming was urgently looking for him, he couldn’t help himself anymore.
Just as he was about to start a voice call, the other side called with a video.
Jiang Rong answered.
He Siming’s full face appeared on screen. “You’re in the dorm?”
Seeing him, Jiang Rong felt inexplicably calm—more so than when playing games. It was strange.
“Yeah,” Jiang Rong replied obediently. “I was gaming with Yao Shule. My phone ran out of battery.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you on WeChat later,” He Siming said.
Jiang Rong wasn’t in high spirits. “Mm.”
Ding Yan stared in disbelief as Jiang Rong handed his phone back. “That’s it? Four sentences? What urgent thing did he need you for?”
Jiang Rong shook his head. “He didn’t say. I don’t know.”
Ding Yan was about to ask more when He Siming messaged him. Thinking Old He still cared about him, Ding Yan felt touched—for exactly one second.
Then: not touched.
He Siming: Help me buy a new phone for Jiang Rong tomorrow. Say I’m lending it to him for homework.
Ding Yan: Will he accept it?
He Siming: Of course he will—if it’s from me.
Ding Yan: …
There was some oddly smug sense of achievement hidden in there.
Ding Yan delivered the message and left, coming and going in a hurry.
Yao Shule came back with the food. “My bad—I didn’t see the message earlier. Otherwise Ding Yan wouldn’t have had to run over.”
“He had something urgent and left,” Jiang Rong said.
“That’s weird,” Yao Shule muttered. “Ding Yan’s always so jumpy—how did he end up friends with He Siming?”
Jiang Rong shook his head. He didn’t know enough to comment.
He ate the Cantonese dim sum and congee. The taste was decent—he could eat it.
Once his phone was charging, WeChat popped up with twenty unread messages.
He opened them. All were from He Siming.
He Siming: Finished your shift?
He Siming: Tired today?
He Siming: Overtime?
He Siming: Did Song Yuening come looking for you?
He Siming: Jiang Rong, message me once you’re back in the dorm.
[Call canceled]
[Call canceled]
[Call canceled]
…
Jiang Rong replied with his first message: Senior Song didn’t come looking for me. What’s wrong?
He Siming: Nothing. Want to play games with me later?
Jiang Rong: My phone can’t handle it. I used Yao Shule’s phone just now.
He Siming: I’ll have Ding Yan bring you my old phone later.
Jiang Rong: Huh?
He Siming: It’s just sitting there anyway. I’ll need it to tutor you—saves you money.
Jiang Rong, who had no money: Alright.
He Siming: What position was Yao Shule playing?
Jiang Rong: Jungle.
He Siming: Want to try my jungle? I’ll feed you—gold.
Jiang Rong: Why did you add a comma.
He Siming: Because I want to feed you.
Jiang Rong: …
He recalled those three days—when he was too tired to get up but wanted water, and He Siming fed him mouth-to-mouth.
On the other end, He Siming smiled at his screen. Even through it, he could picture Jiang Rong’s face slowly turning peach-pink.
Half an hour later, Ding Yan came panting back to Dorm 519 again.
Why did he have to do this kind of physical labor?!
“Haah… Jiang Rong… open the door… delivering the phone…”
