The beautiful omega before him was visibly disappointed. Song Hanshan felt a pang of sympathy, but in the end, he followed orders and walked out of the room.
“Squad 1, guard this spot. Squad 2 relieves you in twelve hours. The Boss will be back in a couple of days. Don’t let him catch you slacking off.”
Song Hanshan was quite stern. The other soldiers muttered amongst themselves, “Slacking or not, once the Major General gets back, he won’t last three days before being sent away.”
“But this omega is really pretty.”
“What good is ‘pretty’? I say our Major General just can’t stand having anyone within five meters of him.”
Song Hanshan gave a snort. “Who told you to try and read the boss’s mind?”
“Do you even have to read it?” one soldier said. “These past few years, besides meetings and battlefield appearances, when has he ever shown up at a banquet? Remember when that cat he raised died? A whole bunch of people rushed to offer him new pets, and he sent them all back. He won’t even accept an animal, let alone a living person being sent his way.”
“This isn’t just a living person being sent his way; it’s the result of the AI matching,” Song Hanshan countered.
“Not necessarily… Who designed the AI model anyway? Humans, right? I think it might be a setup by those people who have it out for our Military Command. Could be a honeypot, for all we know.”
Another soldier couldn’t help but chime in, only to be silenced by Song Hanshan. “Shut it! Is this the kind of talk for out here?”
The corridor fell silent. No one said another word, but everyone understood the unspoken implication.
With the Zerg invading and Space Pirates running rampant, it was only natural for the Military Command to have more sway in these uneasy times. This had upset a lot of powerful interests.
Some factions were not only colluding with the Space Pirates but even had ideas about using the bugs, engaging in shady dealings.
Timing was tense. And now, the Royal Family suddenly sent an omega under the guise of goodwill for their Major General Lu. It would be weird not to suspect ulterior motives.
After all, Lu Mingjin was currently the most likely candidate to succeed the Marshal.
Song Hanshan swept his gaze over them, said nothing more, picked up his signal station, took a deep breath, and called Lu Mingjin.
After a moment, the line connected, but no one spoke. Song Hanshan got straight to the point. Lu Mingjin didn’t like his subordinates wasting time.
“Major General, I’ve seen the omega.”
“And?”
The reply was devoid of emotion or interest.
Song Hanshan glanced at the pale face of the young man in the ward. “The omega is very beautiful, very pale, quite well-behaved, just…”
He struggled for adjectives, stammering, when suddenly a thought struck him. “He’s just like that white cat you used to raise. Pointy chin, blue eyes…”
Despite his careful phrasing, the other end of the line was deathly silent.
Song Hanshan asked cautiously, “Major General?”
A scream came from the other end of the signal station. It was clear he was somewhere fighting Space Pirates. The sound of a dagger plunging into a body followed, then a calm voice.
“If you like him, I don’t mind giving him to you.”
That one sentence completely shut Song Hanshan down.
He looked through the glass at the omega in the ward. The boy was bathed in sunlight, quiet and still. On his delicate skin, one could almost see the fine, tiny hairs. His long eyelashes fluttered. He was so beautiful he seemed almost made of water; a single pinch might bruise him.
He didn’t have that kind of luck!
Just then, the little beauty seemed to sense someone watching him and lifted his eyes—blue irises, deeper than the sky.
Innocent, pure, and with a hint of allure.
Song Hanshan quickly averted his gaze. “Major General, as long as you don’t come back, he’ll be locked in this ward. The place is already surrounded by reporters outside. At least take him back home first… Leaving him here looks bad. Rumors are starting to spread…”
“Let them spread.”
Before Song Hanshan could finish, the line went dead.
How cold.
Song Hanshan sighed.
Over the next few days, the two squads rotated shifts. Outside, just as Song Hanshan had said, reporters were packed in.
“Rumor has it the omega matched to the Military Command’s 10th Division Commander, Lu Mingjin, is in this very hospital.”
“Reporting live daily. It’s said this match is with a family from the commercial sector, but the source has yet to be confirmed.”
Comments scrolled past rapidly. “Heaven’s chosen one.”
“That’s the Empire’s only double S-rank Alpha, the most promising one in the Military Command…”
“So can they actually get footage today? Major General Lu’s face has never been shown before. A bit mysterious…”
“Don’t even start. He was photographed last time, during the Imperial Council of Permanent Members meeting…”
“His image only flashed by that time. I didn’t dare look too closely. I just remember his aura was incredibly powerful…”
“Same here… but he was handsome, that’s for sure.”
“But what use is being handsome? They say he blew up an entire star system on a mission once… I wouldn’t want to be matched with him.”
“Wait, aren’t you an Alpha on your profile? You wouldn’t even qualify to match with him… Can you stop with the undercover trolling? Is it so hard to admit the guy’s a force to be reckoned with?”
“What I said was also the truth. If you want to bask in glory, you have to endure suffering behind the scenes. Who the heck is Yama Lu? Do you really think he’d care about some matched omega? He’d probably toss them out in three days.”
The comments showed signs of escalating into a fight, scrolling faster and faster. But it all came to an abrupt halt the moment a figure appeared on-screen.
Cold, quiet eyes. Sharp brow bones. A smooth, defined jawline. A high nose bridge. The man wore a black military uniform, his long legs striding straight off a starship. He carried an aura of gunsmoke and immense pressure, shockingly handsome. He merely glanced at the live streaming orb on the scene, his silver eyes flashing, and the live feed instantly cut to static with a sharp click.
Lu Mingjin had returned.
At the same moment, only snow-white static filled the screens of the streaming platforms, yet the comments continued to roll in furiously.
[So handsome. To be honest, I could…]
[Is an Alpha’s Mental Power really this strong? He can directly shut down electromagnetic signals?]
[That oppressive feeling is insane… and so cold…]
[So, honestly, it’s a bit scary thinking about what happens if a killing machine like that loses control.]
[If he hadn’t lured those bugs away during the Zerg invasion a few years ago, would you even be here watching a livestream?]
[That’s a separate issue. Didn’t he blow up that star system? So many mineral resources destroyed. Last time it was minerals, what if he blows up people next time?]
[The Emperor isn’t worried, but the eunuchs are. Those mineral resources belonged exclusively to the Royal Family. What do they have to do with you…]
Song Hanshan frowned, reading the live comments, and sighed. Hearing the sound of military boots on the floor, he saw Lu Mingjin walking toward him, the Dean at his side. He hurriedly put away his signal station and gave a standard salute.
Everyone else guarding the ward door also saluted in unison, not daring to breathe too loud.
Lu Mingjin waved his hand, dismissing the crowd. He instinctively went to light a cigarette but, realizing he was in a hospital, crushed it instead.
He asked, “Wasting this many resources for one omega?”
Cold sweat trickled down Song Hanshan’s back.
“It… was His Majesty’s order.”
Lu Mingjin gave a cold laugh. “Tell them to go back where they came from. Vacation’s over.”
“And what about him?”
Song Hanshan gestured toward the ward with his chin. After all this time, the man finally deigned to glance inside.
The young man was asleep on the hospital bed. His delicate, pale face was slightly creased with a frown. His long eyelashes trembled faintly, his sleep appearing restless. He looked like an ailing beauty, three parts more delicate in his frailty.
Anyone would feel a surge of pity just looking at him.
Song Hanshan stole a glance at Lu Mingjin. The latter’s gaze had indeed landed on Bai Ruonian, as if slightly lost in thought.
But he hadn’t expected that in the next moment, Lu Mingjin’s thin lips would part to utter such an icy sentence.
“Simple. Let him go back where he came from too.”
Song Hanshan knew that was a bad sign. He was racking his brain for the right words when the person inside the room seemed to sense something. First, he wrinkled his nose, then his impossibly thin eyelids fluttered again and again.
Bai Ruonian was awake.
Not only was he awake, but he immediately noticed someone outside his room. He looked out—and met Lu Mingjin’s gaze directly.
Inner corners slanting, outer corners lifting, a beautiful crease forming from the thin eyelid. He was so exquisite it took one’s breath away. However, Lu Mingjin’s first reaction was to frown and point at his own ear, asking Song Hanshan.
“Isn’t he hearing-impaired?”
Song Hanshan had no idea what was going on. Still, he tried to sway his superior.
“Maybe it’s telepathy? A 99% compatibility rate, after all…”
Lu Mingjin gave a sardonic laugh and countered, “You believe that?”
Song Hanshan had no response. Before he knew it, Lu Mingjin had already pushed the door open and entered.
Song Hanshan couldn’t even stop him and hurriedly followed into the room, thinking, It’s over.
The omega inside basically only said three lines.
One was, “When can I leave?”
The other was, “I have to find someone. Someone very important.”
Deeply innocent, deeply pure, and…
Deeply, already having someone in his heart.
Lu Mingjin pushed the door open, reining in his own pheromones.
Because the omega before him looked far too pale, as frail and thin as a little kitten. A pair of blue eyes just stared at him, unblinking, innocent and curious.
Lu Mingjin observed him impassively and spoke. “The guards have been dismissed. The reporters outside will be cleared. I have no need for an omega. If you wish to leave, you may do so at any time.”
The air was eerily quiet.
Bai Ruonian stared at the man before him, sitting up straighter, clenching his fingers.
His clear blue eyes stared at Lu Mingjin without blinking.
The latter asked Song Hanshan, “Can he not hear me?”
Song Hanshan nodded. “Poor kid. His father beat him, they say. His hearing comes and goes.”
Lu Mingjin frowned, watching the omega before him as he seemed to be intently sniffing at something.
What kind of tic was this?
Bai Ruonian wrinkled his nose.
A familiar scent. Like a raging hurricane, colder than usual, icier than usual, and carrying a much stronger smell of gunsmoke than ever before.
His blood seemed to stop flowing. Bai Ruonian sat frozen on the bed. This…
It seemed to be his…
Master!!!
It was his Master.
His Master. Had he come to pick him up?
His eyelids trembled, his nose scrunched up too, and his sapphire eyes lit up in an instant.
Like a poet beholding moonlight.
Wildly excited.
Before Lu Mingjin could react, Bai Ruonian had already flung himself forward. So recklessly that he even yanked out his own IV. Blood immediately welled up on his white, delicate hand.
Bright red droplets splattered onto the floor with a soft patter. At the same time, tears began to fall from Bai Ruonian’s eyes, pattering down as well.
Lu Mingjin watched as an omega threw himself into his arms.
Bai Ruonian wrapped his arms around Lu Mingjin’s shoulders, his pale ankles straining as he stood slightly on tiptoe, looking up with hopeful, beautiful eyes blinking. “You… are you here to pick me up?”
His voice was a little choked. All his grievances welled up. “I missed you so much… Master…”
His pronunciation wasn’t standard, so Lu Mingjin missed the word “Master,” but he clearly heard “I missed you.”
Missed him?
The lies were so brazen they had no boundaries.
“Did you hear what I said?” Lu Mingjin asked.
The little omega clinging to him was busy crying his heart out, sobbing while gesturing at his own ear, clearly indicating he hadn’t heard. Lu Mingjin tried to peel him off, only to discover it was impossible. The omega before him had turned into an octopus, crying and sobbing words that were impossible to understand, wiping his tears directly onto Lu Mingjin’s epaulets, making them gleam even brighter in the sunlight.
Lu Mingjin’s entire body stiffened. Song Hanshan, watching from the side, was utterly dumbfounded.
Hadn’t he been clamoring to leave before? What was this about?
Lu Mingjin glanced at Song Hanshan. “What are you still standing there gawking at?”
Song Hanshan snapped back to attention. His first instinct was to go get a bandage for Bai Ruonian.
Lu Mingjin said coldly, “I meant for you to peel him off of me.”
Song Hanshan suddenly understood. Indeed, only the kitten he raised was allowed to cling to him like that. Taking a deep breath, he quickly moved to pry the little omega off the man.
Song Hanshan also noticed Lu Mingjin’s displeasure. He lowered his voice, rushing to speak before the Major General could lose his temper. “If those old fossils are trying to plant a spy by your side, it’s better to have that spy out in the open. If they’re just wary… you might give them face, keep him around without paying much mind. That’ll do.”
Sitting on the hospital bed, Bai Ruonian tilted his head, puzzled.
What was wrong with his Master?
Why was he so disgusted by him?
Lu Mingjin looked at Bai Ruonian. The latter was staring at him intently, his slender, bare legs gently swinging off the edge of the bed, unable to hide his disappointment.
Lu Mingjin looked at him, then walked over. His military boots crunched over the broken glass shards, making a chilling sound. Lu Mingjin leaned down.
“Bai Ruonian, listen carefully. Staying by my side comes with risks. There are people who don’t like me. They won’t dare do anything to me, but I can’t guarantee the same for you. Giving you the option to leave is for your own good.”
The words were as direct as an order, cold and heartless.
Bai Ruonian listened very hard, trying his best to understand. But he couldn’t hear clearly. He blinked, looking at Lu Mingjin blankly.
Lu Mingjin stared into Bai Ruonian’s sapphire eyes and paused. “Even if you stay, to me you’ll be nothing more than a stray cat or dog. Nothing will happen. Understand?”
Bai Ruonian hadn’t caught the earlier words, but he heard the part about “little cat, little dog.” Not only did he hear it, his eyes actually lit up.
Only he knew how well this man treated his cats and dogs!
Lu Mingjin hadn’t expected an omega’s expression could change so fast. Even less did he expect that such harsh words would actually cheer the person up.
The eyes that just moments ago had been brimming with tears now shone like stars. When he lifted his little face again, it was already wearing a smile, revealing two faint dimples.
“I want to stay.”
Perhaps his hearing impairment affected his pronunciation. Short as those four words were, Bai Ruonian spoke them slowly, in a fine, soft voice, but firmly. He repeated, “I want to stay.”
Lu Mingjin looked down at Bai Ruonian’s blue eyes, inexplicably reminded of his own cat.
When he’d picked it up, just like Bai Ruonian, it had been a tiny ball of fluff, glowing white, pitiful, and good at nothing but rubbing against people.
But people and animals were different in the end.
Animals were the same inside and out. People, not necessarily. They had pasts, thoughts, and agendas.
So persistent… Lu Mingjin changed his mind. A spy in the open was the correct approach after all.
He stood up but found a corner of his military uniform held tightly. Bai Ruonian’s voice was as faint as a kitten’s. “Don’t go.”
“Let go.” Lu Mingjin stared at him.
But Bai Ruonian was not only unafraid, he pulled even tighter, just staring at him with those blinking eyes, his tone aggrieved. “No. If I let go, you’ll leave…”
Song Hanshan on the sidelines was utterly shocked.
He would never dare be so… boundary-less with Lu Mingjin. Spies really did know how to be alluring…
But Bai Ruonian knew nothing of such things.
He just dimly felt that his Master had changed a lot and didn’t seem to like him much anymore.
Lu Mingjin paused, then, uncharacteristically, offered an explanation. “I have to go to Headquarters. Someone will take you home.”
“No…”
He absolutely would not go anywhere without his Master. If he left, he wouldn’t know where to start looking.
How was he supposed to find him then? By sniffing around?
At this thought, he clenched his grip even tighter. The wound from tearing out the IV earlier started bleeding again, the red stark against his white skin.
Bai Ruonian winced at the pain but still refused to let go. Lu Mingjin noticed. Left with no choice, he told Song Hanshan to fetch a bandage.
“Put this on.” Lu Mingjin said.
Bai Ruonian looked at the bandage, then looked up at Lu Mingjin, clearly having no idea what it was for.
Song Hanshan stepped forward to help, but Lu Mingjin stopped him. He grasped the omega’s slender wrist and peeled open the bandage.
The white skin of the back of his hand was now bruised purple and black, looking terribly pitiful. Bai Ruonian whimpered in pain, too afraid to look at the blood, and buried his face in Lu Mingjin’s chest.
Immersed in the familiar scent.
Wuwu.
Seriously, this was not easy.
Cozying up in a familiar environment made it easy for his originally taut nerves to instantly relax. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier. In just a moment, he had fallen asleep like that.
Lu Mingjin noticed the person in his arms go still. He looked down to see Bai Ruonian’s porcelain-doll profile, breathing evenly, lashes fluttering slightly. Asleep.
Song Hanshan cautiously approached at that moment. “Should I peel him off this time?”
Lu Mingjin gave him an expressionless look.
Song Hanshan realized he’d guessed wrong again.
The leader’s mind is deeper than the sea.
