Rebirth In The Days When Curse Gao Was The Boss Chapter 14

Day Fourteen of Transmigration

The skiing trip was like a warm current, subtly melting some of the ice that had formed between the two of them. After returning to Jujutsu High, although Xue Yang still maintained his defiant, sharp-tongued demeanor, his attitude toward Gojo Satoru was noticeably less guarded and hostile than before. At the very least, when Gojo Satoru ruffled his hair again, or teased him with that irritating tone, Xue Yang rolled his eyes more often and lashed out less frequently.

His life also gradually settled into a… relatively routine rhythm. He took missions, but entirely based on his mood, deciding whether to act based on the reward, the location, or even the weather that day. Occasionally, he sparred in hand-to-hand combat with his classmates, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi—this was actually Gojo Satoru’s idea.

“Your fighting style is very ‘practical.’ Teach them how to more effectively protect themselves and counterattack in desperate situations,” Gojo Satoru said, slinging an arm around Xue Yang’s shoulder like they were old buddies. “Of course, I won’t make you teach for free.”

Xue Yang raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s the price?”

Gojo Satoru smiled like a cat that had stolen fish. “A year’s supply of sweets. Any famous shop in Tokyo, you name it, I’ll pay.”

Xue Yang scoffed. “You say that as if you wouldn’t treat me even if I didn’t teach.” He had long figured out Gojo Satoru’s obsession with feeding him sweets.

“Ah, you saw right through me~” Gojo Satoru showed no self-consciousness about being exposed. “Then let’s just call it an extra reward from the teacher to his good student.”

And so, the training grounds often featured Xue Yang using his tricky and ruthless close-combat techniques to send Itadori Yuji tumbling head over heels, or instructing Fushiguro Megumi on how to precisely target the body’s most vulnerable joints, and even teaching Kugisaki Nobara how to use the environment and small tools to create opportunities for a killing blow. Although the process was often accompanied by pained grimaces and accusations that Xue Yang was “too vicious,” everyone’s practical combat ability genuinely improved through this “unconventional” teaching.

However, the peace (or rather, Xue Yang’s unilateral peace) was quickly shattered. The higher-ups seemed to treat Gojo Satoru as a tireless perpetual motion machine. All sorts of difficult, tedious, and far-flung missions flew in like snowflakes. Gojo Satoru spun like a top, often returning to Jujutsu High late at night, covered in dust and a faint scent of blood.

This directly affected Xue Yang’s sleep quality.

Since that night skiing, Gojo Satoru seemed to have genuinely adopted Xue Yang as his “sleeping pill” and “human body pillow.” As long as he was at Jujutsu High, sneaking into Xue Yang’s room in the middle of the night and scooping the sleeping boy into his arms became a fixed routine. In his words: “Sleeping while holding Xue Yang is incredibly soothing; I don’t even have nightmares anymore~”

Xue Yang had protested, struggled, and even threatened to sprinkle poison powder on the bed, but each time he was defeated by Gojo Satoru’s absolute physical suppression and his twisted logic of, “The teacher worked so hard and just wants to hug his student to recharge.” In the end, Xue Yang could only angrily resign himself to being a forced bed-warmer.

Until one morning, Xue Yang was once again woken up by Gojo Satoru, who brought a chill into the covers. The boy, sporting two dark circles under his eyes, finally reached his limit.

The next day, Xue Yang, looking grim, went straight to the Jujutsu Headquarters.

No one knew the specifics of the conversation. They only knew that when Xue Yang entered, several higher-ups responsible for mission assignments were drinking tea; when he emerged, those higher-ups looked worse than if they had swallowed a fly. One elderly man, known for his harshness, pointed a trembling finger at Xue Yang’s retreating back, his lips quivering, unable to utter a single word.

Immediately afterward, all teachers and Grade 1 and Semi-Grade 1 sorcerers at Jujutsu High unexpectedly received notifications that their missions were postponed or adjusted, granting them a rare, mandatory short vacation. Even Nanami Kento received a notice “suggesting rest,” which brought a flicker of rare astonishment to his serious face.

Gojo Satoru was the first to notice the change. He had just returned from an overseas mission and was about to take on the next urgent assignment when the assistant supervisor informed him that the mission had been reallocated and he had been granted three days off.

“Oh? Has the sun risen in the west?” Gojo Satoru rubbed his chin, asking the assistant supervisor with interest. “Did those old geezers have a change of heart?”

The assistant supervisor kept his head down, sweating profusely, not daring to say another word.

Gojo Satoru returned to Jujutsu High and saw Xue Yang curled up on a deck chair in the hallway, lazily sunbathing and playing on his phone, looking quite pleased. He walked over, bending down, his massive shadow enveloping Xue Yang.

“I heard you went to Headquarters today?” Gojo Satoru’s voice was laced with amusement.

Xue Yang didn’t lift his head, just hummed in acknowledgment.

“And then they suddenly had a burst of goodwill and gave everyone a holiday?” Gojo Satoru pressed.

Xue Yang finally lifted his eyelids slowly, a flash of cunning and malice in his amber eyes. “I merely reasoned with them.” He paused, then added, “About the dangers of sleep deprivation to adolescent growth and development, and that if certain people dared to disturb my sleep again in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t mind letting them personally experience what long-term insomnia feels like.”

His tone was light, but Gojo Satoru could almost picture the kind of “friendly” smile and “persuasive” methods Xue Yang used to “reason” with those old fogeys.

Gojo Satoru paused, then burst into loud laughter, tears nearly streaming down his face. He vigorously ruffled Xue Yang’s hair. “Hahahaha! Well done! Xue Yang-kun! Your teacher truly hasn’t spoiled you for nothing!”

He certainly wouldn’t flatter himself by thinking Xue Yang was worried about him being tired. This little brat had simply been disturbed in his sleep and gone straight to cut off the source of the noise. But that didn’t stop Gojo Satoru from being in high spirits.

This meant he had at least three days to sleep soundly while holding his “sleeping pill,” without worrying about being called away for a mission in the middle of the night.

“To celebrate the holiday,” Gojo Satoru suggested with a grin, “how about we go eat at that Kaiseki dessert place tonight? The one that requires booking three months in advance?”

Xue Yang glanced at him, then lowered his head back to his phone, though the corner of his mouth curved into a nearly imperceptible smile.

“Whatever.”