Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 25
by Little PandaShe Cried
The moment Ming Yu returned to her room and closed the door, it was as if all the strength had been drained from her body.
She leaned against the door, slowly sliding to the floor. The scene of Song Qingpei giving her the blood transfusion replayed endlessly in her mind—those cold eyes, that posture that screamed she couldn’t get away fast enough, her unwillingness to even touch her.
With her level of self-control, she hadn’t been so far gone as to actually need Song Qingpei’s blood to suppress her pheromones.
She knew perfectly well that she had only run to Song Qingpei’s room as an excuse, an attempt to soften her, to push their relationship a step further. But what she couldn’t accept was that Song Qingpei would rather help her in such a clinical way than touch her at all. That blatant revulsion was a sharp knife plunging viciously into her heart, the pain so intense she could barely breathe.
“Do you hate me that much?”
She had never realized so clearly that Song Qingpei’s disgust for her had reached such a degree.
Ming Yu closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her.
But no matter how hard she tried, the feelings of shame and heartache followed her like a shadow, impossible to shake.
She got to her feet and walked to the window, pushing it open to let the night breeze brush against her cheeks. The cold air cleared her head slightly, but it also made the emptiness in her heart feel all the more vast.
That night, Ming Yu tossed and turned, unable to find sleep.
Song Qingpei’s face kept appearing in her mind—that cold, distant face, those eyes that no longer held a trace of tenderness for her. Every time she saw it, her heart ached a little more.
It wasn’t until the sky paled to a fish-belly white1 that she managed to close her eyes and sleep for a short while.
First thing in the morning, Li Man hurried over.
As soon as she entered, she saw Song Qingpei in the Dining Room, having breakfast with Song Song.
Song Song sat in a high chair, a small spoon in her hand, clumsily delivering porridge to her mouth. Song Qingpei sat beside her, her expression gentle, occasionally wiping the corners of her daughter’s mouth.
“Miss Song, good morning,” Li Man said, walking over to greet her.
Song Qingpei looked up and, seeing it was Li Man, smiled slightly. “Doctor Li, good morning.”
Li Man glanced at Song Song and asked with a smile, “Is Song Song heading to school soon?”
Song Qingpei hummed in affirmation. “I’ll take her in a bit.”
Li Man nodded, then her expression turned serious. “How was Admiral Ming’s condition yesterday?”
The memory of last night’s events made Song Qingpei feel quite awkward, and for a moment, she didn’t know where to begin.
She put down her spoon and organized her thoughts before explaining, “Last night, her heat period suddenly started, and she came to my room… The situation looked a little dangerous, so I gave her a blood transfusion. She stabilized temporarily. She should be fine now, she just hasn’t come out yet.”
Hearing this, Li Man couldn’t help but sigh. “With the Admiral’s pride, I’m afraid she won’t be able to accept this method.”
Song Qingpei didn’t reply, simply lowering her head to continue wiping Song Song’s mouth.
In truth, seeing the ugly look on Ming Yu’s face as she left, she could guess that someone as proud as Ming Yu had indeed had her self-esteem wounded, which was why she was staying in her room. And since she didn’t want to run into Ming Yu either, she had sensibly woken Song Song up early to avoid any awkward encounters for the time being.
Seeing that she remained silent, Li Man knew she couldn’t press the matter and simply said, “Well, I’ll go up and check on the Admiral then.”
Li Man went upstairs and knocked lightly on Ming Yu’s door.
A low “Come in” sounded from within. She pushed the door open to see Ming Yu already awake and putting on her military uniform. Her movements were crisp and efficient, her expression cold, as if nothing at all had happened last night.
Li Man breathed a sigh of relief and said with a smile, “It seems the blood transfusion was effective. You look much better.”
At the words “blood transfusion,” Ming Yu’s face instantly darkened.
Her fingers paused for a fraction of a second before she continued fastening the buttons of her uniform. “I’m fine,” she said coldly.
Noticing the shift in her mood, Li Man quickly changed the subject. “Let me give you a check-up, just to see how things are.”
Ming Yu didn’t refuse, allowing Li Man to examine her.
Li Man carefully checked her vitals, confirming that her heat period was temporarily suppressed. How long it would last, however, would require further observation.
“There are no issues for now, but you still need to be careful,” Li Man advised.
Ming Yu nodded and turned to her. “Right. Let’s go downstairs.”
As the two of them descended the stairs, they happened to run into Song Qingpei, who was about to take Song Song to school.
Song Qingpei froze for a second upon seeing Ming Yu, then took the initiative to speak. “I’ve given the syringes for the transfusion to Butler Su. You can take them with you to Military Headquarters, just in case.”
Hearing this, a feeling of five flavors mixed2 churned within Ming Yu.
Her expression shifted as she looked at Song Qingpei, her throat feeling as if it were blocked. In the end, she could only force out a single word. “Thanks.”
Song Qingpei nodded, said nothing more, and led Song Song away by the hand.
After they left, Ming Yu and Li Man sat down for breakfast in the Dining Room.
The atmosphere at the table was heavy and oppressive.
Ming Yu kept her head down, eating her porridge with a cold expression, seemingly lost in thought.
Li Man glanced at her, then tentatively began, “Admiral, are you… all right?”
Ming Yu looked up at her and suddenly asked, “Doctor Li… how can I get Song Qingpei to mark me willingly?”
The question stunned Li Man. She gave an awkward laugh. “Well… how about I prescribe some medication for you to give Miss Song?”
Ming Yu frowned and refused without hesitation. “No. I want her to do it of her own free will.”
Li Man felt a headache coming on.
She hesitated for a moment before saying tactfully, “With your charm, Admiral, perhaps just being a little gentler would be enough?”
Ming Yu’s frown deepened. “You think I’m too fierce?”
The question made Li Man extremely uncomfortable. She forced another dry laugh. “Not at all… It’s just that Miss Song might prefer a gentler Omega.”
Ming Yu said nothing more, simply lowering her head to continue eating, her expression growing even more solemn.
After the meal, Ming Yu got up to leave for Military Headquarters.
Li Man walked with her to the Parking Lot, reminding her again to take care of her health, before getting into her own hovercar.
Inside the car, Li Man thought about the starkly contrasting side of Ming Yu she had just witnessed and frowned, her head aching.
She had originally assumed that someone with Ming Yu’s proud nature would never fall for Song Qingpei, so she hadn’t rushed things on Murong Ruixue’s end. But now it seemed Ming Yu was already smitten with Song Qingpei, which made things tricky.
If Ming Yu were to find out Song Qingpei’s true identity, it would be extremely detrimental to their plans.
At that thought, she took out her phone and dialled Murong Ruixue’s number.
The call connected quickly, and Murong Ruixue’s voice came through. “Shijie.”
“Ruixue, how is your progress with Song Qingpei?” Li Man asked with a smile.
On the other end, Murong Ruixue’s voice was tinged with helplessness. “We get along quite well. She’s very grateful to me, but I haven’t dared to make a move. I’ve tested it—she really doesn’t react to Omega pheromones.”
“That’s right. Her pheromones are rather cold. That’s the most successful aspect of the experiment on her.”
Li Man chuckled. “However, Song Qingpei’s susceptible period should be coming up soon. She despises Ming Yu right now, so you should use this opportunity to try. She ought to prefer a gentler Omega.”
Murong Ruixue was silent for a moment before saying softly, “I understand.”
After hanging up, Li Man couldn’t help but sigh.
She knew the relationship between Ming Yu and Song Qingpei was far more complicated than she had imagined. And Ming Yu’s pride might just be the biggest obstacle between them—and their greatest opportunity.
She could only hope Murong Ruixue would win over Song Qingpei soon. They urgently needed the next generation’s data.
After ending the call, Murong Ruixue sighed in frustration.
After a moment’s hesitation, she stood up, grabbed a Pheromone Inducer, and, gritting her teeth, injected the contents into her gland. She tossed the empty syringe into the recycling bin and headed for the mech Repair Bay.
Murong Ruixue stopped at the entrance to the Repair Bay, her gaze sweeping inside until it locked onto Song Qingpei, who was busy calibrating a mech in the distance, like a predator spotting its prey.
Song Qingpei was dressed in a dark blue work uniform, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing long, strong forearms.
Her expression was focused, her slender fingers flying across the mech’s control panel as if nothing else in the world existed.
A faint smile touched Murong Ruixue’s lips. She knew her chance had come.
She deliberately slowed her pace as she walked inside.
Hearing footsteps, Song Qingpei looked up and smiled when she saw her. “Ruixue-jie, you’re here.”
Murong Ruixue walked up to her and asked casually, “Qingpei, how’s it going?”
Song Qingpei stopped what she was doing and gave her a detailed explanation of her current repair strategy. When she got to the exciting parts, her eyes danced with excitement, like a child showing off a new toy. Murong Ruixue couldn’t help but smile along with her.
Regardless of anything else, she liked this earnest attitude.
Murong Ruixue took the maintenance report from her and looked it over carefully, confirming that her approach was correct. She offered praise without reservation. “Very good, your direction is right. There’s just one small performance issue.”
Hearing this, Song Qingpei’s interest was immediately piqued. “Where’s the problem? Tell me, I’ll take notes.”
Just then, Murong Ruixue could feel a faint heat building within her; the inducer was clearly taking effect. Looking at Song Qingpei’s eager-to-learn expression, she suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
Murong Ruixue had to force down the heat rising in her body and give her another detailed explanation.
Song Qingpei listened intently. When she reached the key points, a look of sudden understanding dawned on her face. Finally, she said with sincere admiration, “Ruixue-jie, you’re amazing. I still have so much to learn.”
With that, Song Qingpei diligently went back to repairing the mech according to the revised plan, completely oblivious to the flush slowly creeping up Murong Ruixue’s face.
Time ticked by, minute by minute.
Murong Ruixue, left standing to the side, was dumbfounded. She had never met an Alpha who so completely didn’t understand amorous feelings3.
She had no choice but to walk over to Song Qingpei’s side and pretend to check the mech’s data.
Her movements were light, but her breathing grew increasingly rapid, and her cheeks were faintly flushed. She stole a glance at Song Qingpei, only to find her still completely absorbed in her work, seemingly unaware of her unusual state.
Murong Ruixue bit her lip and decided to push things further.
She let out a soft “Ngh,” her voice trembling slightly, as if she were desperately trying to suppress something.
At the sound, Song Qingpei finally looked up, her brow furrowed slightly. “Ruixue-jie, what’s wrong?”
Murong Ruixue looked up, her cheeks flushed an unnatural red. “Qingpei, I… I think my heat period is here again…”
Song Qingpei immediately put down her tools, walked over, and placed a hand on her forehead.
Her fingers were cool, and the touch made Murong Ruixue shudder slightly.
“You are a bit warm,” Song Qingpei said, pulling her hand back. “Ruixue-jie, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Murong Ruixue was stunned, not expecting such a reaction.
She had thought that even if Song Qingpei wasn’t affected by her pheromones, she would at least show some panic or embarrassment. But Song Qingpei’s reaction was unbelievably proper, showing nothing but concern, with no other emotional fluctuation whatsoever.
“I… I don’t need to go to the hospital, do I?” Murong Ruixue tried one last time. “I… I’ll be fine after an inhibitor shot. Could you just help me back to my office to rest?”
Song Qingpei looked at her with a worried expression. “A heat period is no small matter. It hasn’t been that long since your last one, has it? You should go to the hospital for a check-up.”
With that, she turned, walked to a nearby storage locker, took out an inhibitor, and came back to hand it to Murong Ruixue. “Take this first. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Murong Ruixue stared at the inhibitor, feeling a sense of powerlessness, as if she had lifted a rock only to drop it on her own foot4.
“Ruixue-jie?”
At Song Qingpei’s worried prompting, Murong Ruixue could only grit her teeth and inject the inhibitor into her arm.
The cool liquid flowed into her veins, gradually calming her body, but her heart was filled with frustration. She had made it so obvious, yet Song Qingpei remained completely unmoved.
Seeing that she had finished the injection, Song Qingpei picked up her jacket and said, “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Murong Ruixue said nothing more, just followed silently behind Song Qingpei.
Song Qingpei, I hate you for being such a block of wood5.
At the hospital, the doctor examined Murong Ruixue and confirmed that the inhibitor had suppressed her heat period and she was out of immediate danger.
Song Qingpei stayed by her side the entire time, only breathing a sigh of relief after the doctor confirmed she was fine.
The doctor’s tone was slightly reproachful. “You’re her partner, aren’t you? Why didn’t you bring her to the hospital sooner? Her pheromones are very unstable. She needs proper rest.”
Song Qingpei was taken aback for a moment, then explained, “I’m not her partner, just a colleague.”
The doctor looked from Murong Ruixue to Song Qingpei, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Whatever your relationship is, she needs someone to look after her now. Her pheromone fluctuations are significant. After an inhibitor shot, she needs to rest well. You can’t leave her alone.”
Song Qingpei was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. I’ll wait for her to wake up before I leave.”
Only then did the doctor nod in satisfaction and leave the Hospital Room.
Song Qingpei sat in the chair beside the bed, her gaze falling on Murong Ruixue’s pale face.
As she watched, she became lost in thought, a complex emotion in her eyes. Murong Ruixue’s weak appearance right now… was so much like the helpless Ming Yu from the past.
Realizing what she was thinking, Song Qingpei felt a wave of shame and quickly averted her gaze, getting up to go outside for some air.
After Song Qingpei left, Murong Ruixue slowly opened her eyes, her brow deeply furrowed.
Seriously, she had tried so hard to act like a frail Omega. Why was Song Qingpei still completely unmoved?
She couldn’t figure it out. She took out her phone and dialled Li Man.
“Shijie, I failed,” Murong Ruixue said, her voice laced with dejection. “I tried my best to imitate how Ming Yu was after she lost her memory, but she was completely unaffected. She even gave me an inhibitor and sent me to the hospital.”
On the other end, Li Man let out a soft laugh. “It seems Song Qingpei is indeed a tough bone to chew6. But it’s fine. Your pheromones are a perfect match for hers; the experimental data can’t be wrong. Just try a little harder. She’ll fall for you sooner or later.”
Murong Ruixue hesitated, then said in a low voice, “Shijie, do you think… Teacher’s experiment is really right? After all, Song Qingpei doesn’t know anything. Is what we’re doing… really okay?”
At that, Li Man’s voice turned cold. “Ruixue, don’t forget how you survived. If it weren’t for Teacher’s experiment, you would have died long ago. Right now, you just need to follow the plan. Don’t overthink it.”
Murong Ruixue’s heart sank.
She knew Li Man was right. If it weren’t for Teacher, she wouldn’t be alive today.
“I know, Shijie,” Murong Ruixue said softly, her voice tinged with resignation.
After hanging up, Murong Ruixue leaned back against the hospital bed. The image of Song Qingpei’s worried face replayed in her mind, and a sourness welled up inside her.
“Song Qingpei, I’m sorry,” she murmured.
The Hospital Room was terrifyingly quiet, the only sound her own breathing echoing in the air.
Meanwhile.
Ming Yu sat in her office at Military Headquarters, a document in her hand, but her eyes couldn’t focus.
Her fingers tapped unconsciously on the desktop. The image of Song Qingpei was impossible to banish from her mind, like a thorn embedded deep in her heart—she couldn’t pull it out, and she couldn’t ignore it.
Just thinking of Song Qingpei made her body begin to heat up. A familiar burning sensation spread from her spine throughout her body, like countless tiny flames dancing in her veins.
Ming Yu clenched her jaw, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She knew. Her heat period was back.
This time, it came on more ferociously than ever before, as if in retaliation for all her long-term suppression.
Her breathing grew ragged, and fine beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, trickling down her cheeks.
Uncontrollably, her mind conjured Song Qingpei’s face—the face that had once smiled at her so gently, the eyes that had once been filled with concern, and all the tender, intimate moments that had once made her heart flutter.
“Song Qingpei…” Ming Yu murmured, her voice hoarse and trembling.
Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain so intense she could barely breathe.
The old Song Qingpei would have held her gently during her heat, soothing her anxiety with a soft voice. She would have stayed by her side quietly when she was tired, giving her a warm embrace. When she was desperate and ashamed, she would have kissed her with nothing but tenderness.
But the Song Qingpei of today was so cold it chilled her to the bone.
Those gentle eyes now held only distance and weariness. Those soft hands were now unwilling to even touch her.
A dense, searing pain burned in her heart, nearly suffocating her.
Stimulated by the pheromones, her breathing grew more and more ragged, the burning in her body making it almost impossible to think.
Finally, Ming Yu couldn’t bear it any longer. With trembling fingers, she pulled open a drawer and took out a syringe filled with Song Qingpei’s blood. Her gaze fell upon it, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes.
She knew injecting Song Qingpei’s blood could temporarily suppress her heat. But it also meant relying on Song Qingpei yet again. This dependence made her feel ashamed, and it made her feel pained.
But she had no other choice.
Ming Yu gritted her teeth, aimed the syringe at her own gland, and plunged it in without hesitation.
The cool liquid flowed into her body, instantly suppressing the burning sensation. Her breathing gradually steadied, and her body temperature slowly returned to normal.
But her heart was still in turmoil.
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, Song Qingpei’s face still replaying in her mind.
Her fingers unconsciously stroked the empty syringe, a wave of bitterness washing over her.
“Song Qingpei…” she couldn’t stop herself from murmuring again.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ming Yu couldn’t resist taking out her phone. Her finger hovered over the contacts list for a moment before she finally dialled Song Qingpei’s number.
After a few rings, Song Qingpei’s voice came through the receiver. “Ming Yu?”
Ming Yu’s heart sank. Her throat felt blocked, and it took a long moment before she could force out the words. “I… I just wanted to ask, what time are you coming… home today?”
After a pause, she had used the word ‘home’.
Song Qingpei was quiet for a moment, then said flatly, “I’ll be back early today.”
Ming Yu’s lips pressed into a thin line, her heart in turmoil. She had so much she wanted to say, but when it came time to speak, all that came out was this one trivial question.
“Okay. I’ll be back early too,” she replied in a low voice, a note of disappointment in her tone.
On the other end, Song Qingpei seemed to sense something was off. “Are you… running out of blood?” she asked, her tone probing.
Ming Yu’s face went white.
Her fingers clenched around her phone, knuckles pale from the force. A sharp pain shot through her heart, as if Song Qingpei’s words had stabbed her.
“No…” she bit out, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I can hold out.”
Song Qingpei said nothing more, just gave a flat “Mm,” and then hung up.
As she listened to the busy signal from the other end, each beep grated on her already frayed nerves, almost making it impossible to breathe. Ming Yu put down the phone and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes tightly. A single tear slid from the corner of her eye.
She raised the back of her hand to cover her eyes, as if that could hide the utter wretchedness on her face.
Footnotes
- A classic Chinese literary description for the pale, greyish-white color of the sky just before sunrise, literally 'fish-belly white' (yúdùbái).
- A Chinese idiom (wǔwèi zá chén), literally 'five flavors mixed,' describing a complex mixture of emotions.
- Original: bù jiě fēngqíng. A common phrase describing someone who is dense, unromantic, and oblivious to amorous hints or atmosphere.
- A Chinese idiom (bān qǐ shítou zá zìjǐ de jiǎo) describing a situation where one's actions end up causing self-harm.
- Literally 'wood' or 'block of wood' (mùtou). Used colloquially to describe someone who is dense, stiff, or unromantic.
- A common Chinese idiom (nán kěn de gǔtou), referring to a difficult problem or a person who is hard to deal with.
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