Rebirth In The Days When Curse Gao Was The Boss Chapter 36

The unique scent of disinfectant from the Jujutsu High infirmary permeated the air. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, cutting strips of alternating light and shadow across the polished floor. Ieiri Shoko sat behind her desk, an unlit cigarette pinched between her fingers, habitually twirling it as she looked at Gojo Satoru, who was sprawled carelessly on the sofa opposite her.

“So, you just gave him that sword, Calamity? And threw in a year’s—no, maybe three years’ worth of all-you-can-eat dessert vouchers?” Shoko’s tone carried her usual laziness and a hint of subtle teasing.

Gojo Satoru crossed his legs, his sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead, revealing those excessively brilliant azure eyes. He smiled with carefree abandon. “Why not? Our student Xue Yang performed so well, of course he deserves a reward.”

Shoko glanced at him, taking a drag on the non-existent cigarette, and said slowly, “Satoru, aren’t you being a little too good to that kid, Xue Yang?” She paused, adding, “It seems to go beyond the scope of a teacher toward a student, doesn’t it?”

The smile on Gojo Satoru’s face didn’t falter; it grew even brighter. He tilted his head, his voice light and tinged with self-evident truth. “Hm? Am I? I think it’s just right.”

Shoko looked at him, her eyes showing understanding. “Don’t play dumb. The way you look at him is no different from the way I look at your mountains of desserts.” She paused, then pierced his facade with blunter language. “It’s the kind of look that wants to devour him whole, leaving nothing behind.”

Instead of denying it, Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking slightly. He put his sunglasses back on, concealing any emotions that might have leaked from his eyes, but the curve of his mouth held undisguised pleasure and… tacit admission.

“Is it that obvious?” His tone was casual, as if discussing the pleasant weather.

Shoko watched his frank demeanor—the look that said, “Yes, I like him, what are you going to do about it?”—and shook her head helplessly. “You’re certainly honest. But that kid… does he understand?”

Gojo Satoru leaned back against the sofa, his posture relaxed, but his voice carried a determined certainty. “Whether he understands now isn’t important. He will get used to it. Used to my presence, used to my kindness, used to the point where… he can never leave.”

Just then, Gojo Satoru’s Six Eyes keenly detected a fleeting moment of stillness and disorder in an extremely subtle presence outside the infirmary door, a presence that was almost integrated with the surrounding environment. He was too familiar with that presence—it was Xue Yang.

It seemed he had come to the infirmary to pick up the pre-ordered healing medicine or new experimental materials. And he had just heard the most crucial part.

Gojo Satoru’s eyebrows twitched imperceptibly behind his sunglasses, but he made no move, nor did he speak up to expose him. Even the smile on his face remained unchanged. He maintained his lazy sitting posture, acting as if he were oblivious to the movement outside the door.

Since he heard it, that was perfect. He hadn’t planned on hiding it forever anyway. The frog had been simmering in warm water for so long; it was time to turn up the heat a little and see how this sensitive and awkward little wild beast would react.

Outside the door, Xue Yang was indeed frozen stiff.

He had come to collect several rare medicinal ingredients he had asked Shoko to prepare for his latest “little invention” research. Just as he reached the door, he vaguely heard Gojo Satoru and Shoko talking inside. He had no intention of eavesdropping and was about to knock when the sentence, “The way you look at him is no different from the way I look at your mountains of desserts,” clearly drilled into his ears.

Immediately following that was Gojo Satoru’s smiling, acknowledging reply—”Is it that obvious?”—and the subsequent, even more direct and possessive statement: “He will get used to it… to the point where he can never leave.”

Xue Yang felt his heart being violently squeezed by an invisible hand, then suddenly released, causing a dizzying sense of weightlessness. Blood seemed to rush instantly to his head, his eardrums buzzed, and his cheeks began to burn uncontrollably.

Gojo Satoru… liked him?

Not the kind of affection a teacher has for a student, but… the kind a man has for a woman? No, wait, the kind a man has for a man?

This realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving his mind blank. The details he had deliberately ignored or attributed to Gojo Satoru’s awful personality now surged into his mind like a tide—the overly intimate physical contact, the constant feeding, the stubborn late-night hugs, the gaze that was so focused it made him uneasy, and that declaration, “Wherever I stand, that is the right path”…

So… he hadn’t been overthinking it. That annoying yet powerful man really harbored those kinds of feelings for him!

An emotion he couldn’t quite name—was it anger, shame, or something else entirely unfamiliar—churned like magma in his chest. He instinctively clenched his fists, his nails digging deeply into his palms, the sharp pain barely allowing him to maintain his outward composure.

He wanted to rush in immediately, grab that white-haired bastard by the collar and demand answers, or simply use Calamity to put a hole through him. But his feet were nailed to the spot, unable to move.

He couldn’t explain why he didn’t act immediately. Was it due to excessive shock? Or was it because… deep down, his reaction to Gojo Satoru’s “liking” was not entirely rejection and disgust?

The moment this thought surfaced, Xue Yang forcefully suppressed it. What kind of joke was this! How could he, Xue Yang…

The conversation inside the infirmary continued, but Xue Yang could no longer make out the specific content. He spun around abruptly, practically fleeing, his footsteps hurried and chaotic. He had even forgotten the purpose of his visit to the infirmary.

Ieiri Shoko seemed to hear the slightly rushed footsteps retreating outside the door. She glanced at the still composed Gojo Satoru and nodded knowingly. “It seems someone heard some rather important news.”

Gojo Satoru finally stood up slowly, stretching, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. “It’s good that he heard it. It saves me the trouble of having to find a way to hint at it later.”

He walked to the window and looked down at the black-haired boy who was practically running away from the infirmary building, his figure quickly disappearing at the end of the tree-lined path. He stroked his chin, feeling quite pleased.

His little wild beast was indeed startled.

But that was fine. After the shock, he would start thinking. And once he started thinking, he wouldn’t be far from falling into the trap.

Gojo Satoru turned and waved to Shoko. “Thanks, Shoko! I’ll treat you to dessert next time.”

Shoko watched his retreating back, shaking her head helplessly. She put down the cigarette in her fingers and muttered to herself, “What a reckless man… But maybe that Xue Yang might actually be able to handle him.”

Meanwhile, Xue Yang rushed all the way back to his dorm, slamming the door shut with a bang. He leaned against the door, breathing heavily. The heat on his face hadn’t subsided, his heart was still pounding wildly in his chest, and Gojo Satoru’s words—”He will get used to it, used to the point where he can never leave”—echoed repeatedly in his mind.

“Bastard… lunatic…” he cursed under his breath, yet his voice carried a subtle tremor.

He irritably ran his hands through his hair, walked to the bed, and sat down, trying to sort out his chaotic thoughts. Gojo Satoru liked him? That strongest man, who seemed to care about nothing, actually harbored such feelings for him?

Why?

Because he was interesting? Because he was powerful? Or because… he was simply himself?

Xue Yang couldn’t figure it out. Emotion was something far more complex and difficult to understand than cursed energy theory. He was accustomed to calculation, plunder, and possession, but he had never truly understood the pure yet troublesome emotion of “liking.”

But undeniably, after the initial shock and annoyance, deep down, there seemed to be an extremely faint stirring, one he was unwilling to admit even to himself.

That person’s embrace was warm, that person’s indulgence made him feel safe, and that person’s presence… seemed to have become an indispensable part of his life.

Could it be… that he also…

“Impossible!” Xue Yang violently shook his head, throwing the absurd notion out of his mind. He must have been driven crazy by that bastard!

He stood up and paced restlessly around the room. What should he do now? Pretend he hadn’t heard? Or confront Gojo Satoru directly and tell him to get lost?

Neither option seemed to alleviate the strange sense of… agitation he felt.

Just then, there was a knock on the dorm door. Gojo Satoru’s familiar, irritating voice came from outside:

“Xue Yang? Are you in? Sensei brought you the new limited-edition cream puffs! Open up, or they’ll melt!”

Xue Yang’s footsteps instantly halted, his body rigid. He stared at the door as if it were a monstrous flood.

Outside the door, Gojo Satoru, using his Six Eyes, clearly “saw” Xue Yang’s conflicted, flustered, yet feigned composure inside. The smile on his face grew even brighter.

His hunt had entered a new phase. And his prey seemed to have realized the hunter’s presence and was plunged into unprecedented confusion.

This feeling was truly… marvelous.