Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 37
by Little PandaI’ll Help You Wash
Zhan Nansheng stared at the recommendation list Ming Yu had rejected, fury burning in her chest.
“Ming Yu, what gives you the right!”
She took a deep breath, then strode briskly toward her vehicle and ordered her driver, “To Military Headquarters.”
Throughout the ride, her conversation with Ming Yu kept replaying in her mind.
Ming Yu’s strictly professional demeanor made her grind her teeth in hatred. She, Zhan Nansheng, had spent years in the military—when had she ever been subjected to such indignity? Furthermore, Ming Yu was nothing but an Omega. What gave her the right to act so high and mighty in front of her?
Upon arriving at Military Headquarters, Zhan Nansheng headed straight for Ming Yu’s office.
Seeing her aggressive approach, the guard at the door hurriedly stepped forward to block her. “Lieutenant General Zhan, Admiral Ming is currently in a meeting. You…”
“Move aside!” Zhan Nansheng swept a cold glare over the guard, her tone brokering no argument.
Intimidated by her sharp gaze, the guard had no choice but to step aside.
Zhan Nansheng pushed the door open to find Ming Yu discussing the military academy’s admissions plan with several senior officers.
Ming Yu looked up. Seeing Zhan Nansheng, her brow furrowed slightly, but she quickly smoothed her expression into utter calm. She waved a hand, signaling the others to leave.
“Lieutenant General Zhan, is there something you need?” Ming Yu’s voice remained cold, as if their previous conflict had never occurred.
Zhan Nansheng sneered. She marched up to Ming Yu, planted both hands on the desk, and glared down at her. “Ming Yu, don’t think that just because Marshal Lin has your back, you can do whatever you please. You don’t get the final say on the military academy admissions!”
Ming Yu lifted her head, meeting Zhan Nansheng’s gaze evenly. “Lieutenant General Zhan, the academy’s admission standards were decided after discussion by the Military Headquarters. Everything is proceeding according to protocol.”
“Protocol?” Zhan Nansheng let out a scornful laugh. “Ming Yu, don’t speak to me in bureaucratic jargon1! You rejected the people I recommended simply because you want to suppress me. Let me tell you, this isn’t over!”
Ming Yu’s tone remained level. “Lieutenant General Zhan, academy admissions must be fair and impartial. Everyone, including you and me, must abide by the rules. If you have any objections, you may file a formal complaint with Military Headquarters.”
“You!” Provoked by Ming Yu’s attitude, Zhan Nansheng’s anger flared. “Ming Yu, don’t think I won’t touch you!”
Ming Yu was completely unfazed. “Lieutenant General Zhan, if you have no other business, please leave. I still have work to attend to.”
Zhan Nansheng’s face turned livid. She glared fiercely at Ming Yu and grit her teeth. “Fine, very well! Ming Yu, just you wait!”
With that, she turned on her heel, strode out, and slammed the door behind her.
Ming Yu watched Zhan Nansheng’s retreating back and twitched her lips in indifference.
She knew Zhan Nansheng wouldn’t let this go easily, but she absolutely refused to compromise. If she bowed her head right from the start, what was the point of her being the Chancellor?
Meanwhile, after leaving Military Headquarters, Zhan Nansheng drove directly to the Presidential Palace.
The rage in her heart could no longer be contained. She needed her father to give her justice.
Inside the Presidential Palace, Zhan Li was in the middle of discussing matters with his sister, Zhan Qi.
Zhan Nansheng shoved the door open and announced aggressively, “Father, Ming Yu has gone too far! Not only did she reject the people I recommended, but she also openly provoked me! Why should she get to sit in the Chancellor’s seat?”
Hearing the shouting from a distance, Zhan Li looked up, his brow heavily creased.
He stared sternly at the approaching Zhan Nansheng. “Nansheng, you are already a Lieutenant General. Why are you still so impulsive? No wonder you can’t compare to Ming Yu.”
Those final words pierced Zhan Nansheng deeply. She immediately shot back, “Father, you always compare me to Ming Yu! She’s just an Omega; why does she get to suppress me at every turn? I refuse to accept it!”
Zhan Li’s face darkened, his tone severe. “Nansheng, you disappoint me! The academy matters concern the very future of the military; it is not a tool for your power struggles! What you need to do right now is cooperate with Ming Yu in your capacity as Vice-Chancellor to run the academy well, not stand here throwing a tantrum!”
Her father’s reprimand made Zhan Nansheng’s eyes turn red. Jaw set, she argued stubbornly, “Father, you just look down on me! Ever since I was a child, you’ve always felt I was inferior to Ming Yu! What exactly am I doing wrong?”
Seeing his daughter’s agitated state, Zhan Li felt a twinge of helplessness.
He sighed, his tone softening slightly. “Nansheng, it’s not that I look down on you. I just hope you can mature a bit. The academy isn’t something you can dictate alone. You must learn to collaborate with others. This is an excellent opportunity to temper yourself.”
Still unconvinced, Zhan Nansheng opened her mouth to argue further.
Standing nearby, Zhan Qi hurriedly smoothed things over. “Alright, alright. Nansheng just has a strong personality; there’s nothing wrong with that. Eldest Brother, don’t scold her anymore.”
Zhan Qi walked over to Zhan Nansheng, patted her on the shoulder, and said softly, “Nansheng, don’t be anxious. Auntie knows you’ve been wronged. Just wait a little longer. Auntie will definitely help you secure that Chancellor position.”
Zhan Nansheng looked up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Auntie, you have a way?”
Zhan Qi smiled faintly, a mysterious air about her. “Hold your temper and be patient. We’re waiting for news from Wu Lan’s side.”
“Wu Lan?” Zhan Nansheng froze, her expression quickly twisting into dissatisfaction. “She’s back? Why didn’t she tell me?”
Zhan Qi was just about to explain when the office door was pushed open.
A tall woman in uniform strode in. Her hair was pinned up, and her exquisite features held a sharp edge. With her long legs and lithe, effortless gait, it was obvious she possessed extensive combat training.
Upon entering, she keenly sensed the tense atmosphere in the room, yet she maintained perfect protocol, reporting to Zhan Li in a businesslike manner. “Good day, Mr. President. Director of the Investigation Bureau, Wu Lan, reporting.”
Zhan Li spoke with familiar ease. “Wu Lan, there are no outsiders here. No need to be so formal.”
Hearing this, Wu Lan smoothly dropped her serious facade and smiled. “What’s going on here? A family argument?”
“Sigh, it’s just this disappointing…”
Halfway through his sentence, Zhan Li reconsidered for the sake of Zhan Nansheng’s pride. He cut himself off and frowned at his daughter.
Meanwhile, from the moment Wu Lan entered, Zhan Nansheng’s gaze had been locked dead onto her, entirely wordless.
“Wu Lan, you’re finally back,” Zhan Qi said, looking eager. “How did it go? Has Ming Rui made a move yet? The moment she acts, we’ll immediately deliver a fatal blow to the Ming family. I’ve been holding my breath on this for far too long.”
“Not yet,” Wu Lan replied. “As soon as she makes a move, I will notify you immediately.”
Zhan Qi looked visibly disappointed.
Hearing them discuss the Ming family, Zhan Nansheng immediately perked up. “What exactly are you talking about? Has the Ming family exposed some vulnerability? Tell me quickly, this time I’m definitely going to ruin Ming Yu…”
“Enough.” Zhan Li waved his hand impatiently. “Nansheng, step outside for now. I still have matters to discuss with Wu Lan.”
Zhan Nansheng shot Wu Lan a look, grit her teeth, and turned to leave the office.
Seeing this, Zhan Qi also stood up. “Eldest Brother, I’ll take my leave as well. Don’t be too angry. Nansheng is still young; she needs time to grow.”
Zhan Li nodded and watched Zhan Qi depart.
He sat back in his chair, his brows furrowed, fingers tapping lightly against the desk as though deep in thought.
Wu Lan stood before him respectfully, awaiting his further instructions.
“How is the investigation into Blue Sea progressing?” Zhan Li lifted his head, his gaze sharpening as it fell on Wu Lan.
Wu Lan nodded, her tone steady. “Mr. President, the Federation Bureau of Investigation has confirmed that Murong Xia, the head of the Black Kite rebel organization, is not dead. Furthermore, Murong Ruixue is Murong Xia’s adopted daughter. All these years, she has remained hidden within Blue Sea without making any overt moves. Her true objective remains unclear.”
Zhan Li’s frown deepened. He pondered for a moment before asking in a low voice, “Are there any other findings?”
Wu Lan flipped open the file in her hands and continued her report. “According to our intelligence, Murong Ruixue has recently been in close contact with Admiral Ming Yu and Song Xihan. Admiral Ming even approved the talent recruitment plan concerning Blue Sea, seemingly intending to bring Murong Ruixue into the military academy’s exchange team.”
Pausing for a moment, Wu Lan looked to Zhan Li as if seeking guidance. “Mr. President, should we inform Admiral Ming Yu of this matter in advance, lest she remain in the dark and find herself compromised?”
Zhan Li fell silent for a while before shaking his head. “Not for now. Ming Yu has always been cautious. If she is actively approaching Murong Ruixue, she surely has her own plans. We might as well watch and see what she intends to do. You keep investigating. You must uncover the true purpose behind Murong Xia instructing Murong Ruixue to lay low.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I will continue to track it,” Wu Lan acknowledged with a nod.
Zhan Li’s gaze softened slightly, but then he sighed again, a note of resignation in his voice. “That child, Nansheng… she’s too competitive. She’s locking horns with Ming Yu, and I worry she’ll stir up trouble. Wu Lan, keep a close eye on her. Don’t let her do anything out of line.”
“You need not worry too much.” Wu Lan smiled faintly, her tone soothing. “While the Eldest Miss’s competitive spirit is indeed strong, her capabilities are unquestionable. She merely needs some time to adjust her mindset. After all, Admiral Ming Yu is truly a formidable opponent.”
Zhan Li’s expression eased a bit more, and he nodded. “Let us hope so.” He paused, seeming to recall something, and his tone grew heavier. “And Zhan Qi… Ming Xi’s affair back then remains a thorn in her heart. I’ve seen her suppressing the Ming family all these years. Teaching the Ming family a lesson is fine, but don’t let it go too far. After all, the Ming family still has Ming Yu now, and she is not one to be trifled with.”
“I understand, Mr. President,” Wu Lan nodded respectfully. “I will remind her to know when to stop.”
Zhan Li waved his hand, gesturing that Wu Lan was dismissed. “Alright, get back to work. Report to me immediately if there are any new developments.”
Wu Lan bowed slightly, turned, and left the office.
Wu Lan walked out of the President’s office and strode down the long corridor, her steps steady and unhurried.
However, just as she reached the corner of the hallway, an arm suddenly shot out from the side, grabbing her by the arm and slamming her hard against the wall.
Her back hit the cold masonry. She couldn’t help but frown as she lifted her eyes to the person before her.
Zhan Nansheng was glaring at her furiously. Those beautiful eyes burned with a rage that looked ready to scorch right through her.
“Eldest Miss, stop fooling around,” Wu Lan said, her voice remaining calm, tinged with a hint of exasperation.
“Fooling around?” Zhan Nansheng sneered, blatant mockery in her voice. “Wu Lan, why didn’t you tell me you were back? If I didn’t seek you out, would you just never come to me on your own?”
Wu Lan sighed, a touch of exhaustion leaking into her tone. “I was on a mission. It wasn’t convenient to contact you.”
“A mission?” Zhan Nansheng scoffed, utterly dismissive. “The old man has you running around outside every day. Who knows what you’re even busy with. Tell me, what did my aunt have you doing? Does it have something to do with Ming Yu?”
Wu Lan’s eyes hardened for a fraction of a second, but she quickly smoothed her expression.
She shook her head, resolute. “Eldest Miss, I cannot speak of these matters.”
Zhan Nansheng’s face instantly darkened. She leaned in close, almost pressing against Wu Lan’s ear, and dropped her voice to a vicious whisper. “Wu Lan, don’t think I don’t know what’s going through your head. Let me tell you, the Chancellor’s seat is mine sooner or later. You had better not stand in my way.”
Wu Lan didn’t flinch away. She simply looked at her with cool detachment. “Rest assured, the Chancellor’s seat will be yours. The timing just isn’t right yet. You need to be patient.”
Zhan Nansheng gave a cold huff, clearly unsatisfied with the answer.
But she didn’t press the interrogation. Instead, she abruptly shifted the subject, her tone taking on a sudden, dangerous ambiguity. “Tonight at eight. Cloud Sea Hotel, Room 1808. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Wu Lan frowned and rejected the demand. “Apologies. I have business tonight; I’m afraid I cannot attend.”
Zhan Nansheng let out a cold laugh, a dangerous glint flashing in her eyes. “Wu Lan, I’m giving you face, aren’t I? Guess what the old man would do to you if he found out you slept with his only daughter?”
Wu Lan’s face instantly turned ugly. Her gaze frosted over. “Eldest Miss, you shouldn’t make jokes like that.”
“A joke?” Zhan Nansheng mocked, her tone dripping with derision. “Wu Lan, don’t forget that you made me suffer a massive loss last time. Tonight, I will have my revenge.”
Wu Lan’s gaze lingered on Zhan Nansheng’s face for a long time. Finally, she nodded. “Alright. I’ll be there.”
Zhan Nansheng smiled in satisfaction. She reached up, patted Wu Lan’s cheek, and said with a touch of smugness, “Wash yourself clean. I don’t want to smell anyone else on you.”
With that, she released Wu Lan and turned away.
Her military boots clicked sharply against the floorboards, sounding like a declaration of victory.
Wu Lan stood perfectly still, watching Zhan Nansheng’s silhouette slowly disappear at the end of the corridor. Gradually, the corners of her mouth curled up into an eerie arc, like a beast that had locked onto its prey.
“What a brainless Eldest Miss.”
She muttered the words under her breath, a sliver of ridicule in her tone. “She suffered after being drugged last time, and yet she still hasn’t learned a single lesson. Since that’s the case, don’t blame me for being impolite.”
She smoothed down her sleeves where Zhan Nansheng had wrinkled them, then turned and walked in the opposite direction.
The corridor lights stretched her shadow out long across the floor, making her look exceptionally solitary—and incredibly dangerous.
Sunlight spilled into the room through the gaps in the curtains.
Song Qingpei slowly opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt as heavy as if two stones had been pressed over them. She raised a hand to touch her eyes and felt nothing but swollen tissue; she could barely force them open a sliver.
She fumbled her way out of bed and walked over to the mirror. Seeing her reflection, she couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.
The person in the mirror had eyes swollen like two walnuts, and her skin was an unnatural, irritated red. She looked thoroughly wretched.
She grimaced and let out a heavy sigh. “How am I supposed to see anyone like this…”
Just then, the door was gently pushed open, and Song Song poked her little head in, blinking her large eyes at Song Qingpei.
Seeing her mother’s distressed face, she immediately trotted inside and asked with deep concern, “Mama, do your eyes still hurt?”
Song Qingpei forced a smile and reached out to rub Song Song’s head. “It’s alright. They’re just very swollen. It looks a bit ugly.”
Song Song tilted her head in thought. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she turned and ran out of the room.
It wasn’t long before she came running back holding a beautiful ribbon. The ribbon was pale blue and embroidered with delicate, exquisite patterns.
“Mama, look at this!” Song Song raised the ribbon excitedly. “We can use this to tie over your eyes, and then we won’t be able to see it!”
Song Qingpei paused in surprise, then laughed. “Song Song is so clever. That’s a great idea.”
Song Song tilted her little face up proudly. Then, she ran off to find Butler Su for some disinfectant, carefully washed and sterilized the ribbon, waited for it to dry, applied some medicine to it, and brought it back to Song Qingpei like a prized treasure.
Song Qingpei obligingly lowered her head. “Song Song, tie it on for Mama.”
Standing on her tiptoes, she gently wrapped the ribbon over Song Qingpei’s eyes, her movements as careful as if she were handling something incredibly precious.
“Mama, look, isn’t this much prettier?” Song Song admired her handiwork with satisfaction.
Though Song Qingpei couldn’t see, she reached up and touched the ribbon, a wave of warmth swelling in her chest. “Song Song is truly Mama’s sweet little padded jacket2. Mama is so touched.”
Song Song’s eyes curved into happy little crescents as she threw herself into Song Qingpei’s arms. “Mama, no pain! Song Song will stay with you!”
All day long, Song Song remained by Song Qingpei’s side, taking care of her like a little adult.
She told Song Qingpei stories, chattered about funny things that happened at school, and periodically asked, “Mama, do you still hurt? Are you bored?”
Even though Song Qingpei couldn’t see, her heart felt incredibly full.
Listening to Song Song’s youthful voice and feeling her meticulous care, she felt time fly by. Even the pain in her eyes didn’t seem quite so unbearable anymore.
After they finished dinner, Ming Yu’s steady footsteps echoed in the hall.
She walked into the living room. Seeing Song Qingpei sitting on the sofa with a ribbon tied over her eyes, she frowned slightly.
“Are your eyes any better?” Ming Yu’s voice was as cold as ever, carrying a strictly businesslike tone.
Before Song Qingpei could answer, Song Song charged forward like a little rabbit and planted herself in front of Ming Yu. Hands on her hips, she looked up with a thoroughly serious expression. “Mommy, you have to be gentle! Mama hurts, you have to treat her well!”
Ming Yu froze for a moment. Looking down at Song Song’s youthful but deadly serious little face, she found herself not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
She tried her best to make her voice sound softer. “Alright, I know.”
Song Song tugbed at the hem of her clothes, issuing a new demand. “Mommy, you have to smile at Mama so she’ll be happy!”
Ming Yu looked down at Song Song and forced the corners of her mouth up, managing a somewhat stiff smile.
Song Song shook her head in dissatisfaction. “Mommy, you have to smile the way Mama does! Be gentle!”
Ming Yu finally snapped back to reality and pointed out matter-of-factly, “Your mother can’t see.”
“Oh right, Mama can’t see right now.” Song Song muttered to herself in distress, but quickly recovered her resolute expression. “But even if Mama can’t see, she can feel it! So you still have to smile, and you still have to be gentle.”
Listening to the exchange between mother and daughter, Song Qingpei couldn’t help but laugh aloud.
The corners of her mouth curled up. Though her eyes were obscured by the ribbon, that sliver of a smile was exceptionally moving.
Seeing her smile, Ming Yu stared blankly for a second.
That smile was so much like the one she had once yearned for, like a ray of sunlight piercing straight through her icy shell to strike her very heart.
She took a deep breath, forcing her voice to be even gentler. “Do your eyes… still hurt?”
Song Qingpei shook her head, her tone relaxed. “Much better. Song Song stayed with me all day. She told me stories and helped me tie the ribbon. With her here, I wasn’t bored at all.”
Ming Yu’s gaze drifted to Song Song, a flash of tenderness in her eyes. “Song Song, you worked hard today.”
Song Song lifted her little chin proudly. “Not hard! Mama hurts, I have to take care of her!”
Ming Yu reached out and stroked Song Song’s head, an edge of praise in her voice. “You did very well.”
Seeing that Ming Yu had returned to keep Song Song company, Song Qingpei prepared to head back to her room to rest. She stood up slowly and fumbled forward. Because her eyes were covered by the ribbon, her vision was a sea of darkness; she had to rely entirely on memory and sensation to judge her direction.
Seeing this, Song Song immediately pushed Ming Yu, urging in a small voice, “Mommy, hurry up and help Mama, she can’t see the way!”
Ming Yu hesitated for a split second, then quickly stepped over to Song Qingpei and took her hand.
The moment their palms pressed together, a subtle, electric sensation traveled from their fingertips straight into their hearts.
Song Qingpei’s fingers trembled slightly, but she quickly steadied herself and let Ming Yu lead her.
Ming Yu’s palm was warm and strong, dotted with thin calluses—clearly marks left by years of wielding a gun.
The two walked in silence, the only sound the soft echo of their footsteps in the corridor.
It wasn’t until they entered the bedroom that Ming Yu let go and said softly, “Lie down and rest. I’ll go call a maid over.”
Song Qingpei nodded, feeling her way to sit on the edge of the bed.
Ming Yu stood where she was, looking at Song Qingpei’s slightly exhausted expression, and a complex tide of emotions suddenly welled up inside her.
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but ultimately just turned to leave.
Just then, Song Qingpei spoke up. “Right, could I trouble you to ask a maid to draw a bath for me? I’d like to wash up.”
Ming Yu’s footsteps paused. There was a trace of hesitation in her voice. “Your… your eyes are inconvenienced right now. Won’t bathing be dangerous?”
“It’s fine. I just can’t see; it’s not like I can’t move. Just have the maid draw the water and help me into the tub. I can handle the rest myself.”
Ming Yu was silent for a moment before she blurted out, “I’ll just help you wash.”
The moment the words left her mouth, both of them froze.
Song Qingpei’s fingers unconsciously tightened their grip on the bedsheets. A note of panic entered her voice. “N-no need, that’s too much trouble for you…”
“It’s no trouble.”
Song Qingpei opened her mouth to refuse again, but Ming Yu had already turned and walked into the bathroom.
She sat frozen in place, listening to the sound of running water echoing from the bathroom, her mind a tangled mess.
She couldn’t help but let her speculations run wild. Why would Ming Yu suddenly propose such an awkward arrangement? Calling a maid over would have easily solved the problem, and Ming Yu was hardly the gentle, considerate type who liked taking care of people.
Song Qingpei couldn’t shake the feeling that this behavior was wholly unreasonable.
Was it simply a gesture of goodwill, or was it… No, that shouldn’t be the case. Hadn’t her heat period only just ended?
At that moment, Ming Yu’s voice drifted out from the bathroom. “The water temperature is about right. Come in.”
Song Qingpei grit her teeth, finally stood up, and fumbled her way toward the bathroom.
Ming Yu was standing by the door. She reached out to steady Song Qingpei by the arm and said quietly, “Careful, the floor is a bit slippery.”
Song Qingpei nodded, allowing Ming Yu to guide her inside.
The water temperature in the tub was perfect. Steam rose through the air, carrying a faint, pleasant fragrance.
Ming Yu let go and said softly, “Take off your clothes. I’ll help you into the tub.”
Song Qingpei couldn’t stop her face from flushing. Her tone was deeply embarrassed. “You… you should go out first. I can do it myself.”
Ming Yu, however, didn’t move an inch. “It’s not as if I haven’t seen you before. Why are you being so prudish?”
Truly, no ivory ever came from a dog’s mouth3. How was she being prudish? She simply wasn’t used to it!
But judging by Ming Yu’s tone, there probably weren’t any ulterior motives. After all, apart from the instinctual demands of a heat period, she was just as frigid as ever. At that thought, Song Qingpei breathed a sigh of relief.
She bit her lip, resting her fingers lightly against her collar, and undid the first button.
Her movements were very slow, as if she were buying time to adapt to the sheer awkwardness of the atmosphere.
As the buttons were undone one by one, her pale skin was gradually revealed. The lines of her collarbones were elegant, and the skin of her shoulders and neck gave off a soft, faint luster beneath the warm glow of the bathroom lights.
Standing to the side, Ming Yu found her gaze drawn to Song Qingpei’s body entirely against her will.
Her breath hitched slightly, and her throat felt tight. She had genuinely thought she could face this with absolute composure; after all, unless she was in heat, she was almost never swayed by desire.
Yet, as Song Qingpei’s top slid slowly downward, exposing the slender curve of her waist and soft contours, Ming Yu found herself unable to look away. An indescribable heat surged from the bottom of her heart, as if something were quietly spiraling out of control. Her fingers curled inward instinctively, her fingertips tingling slightly, and her heartbeat began to race.
What is wrong with me? Ming Yu demanded of herself internally.
She clearly wasn’t in her heat period, so why was she having this kind of reaction?
Reason told Ming Yu she should turn around and leave immediately, but her body felt nailed to the floor, completely immobile. She couldn’t tear her eyes off Song Qingpei’s body; she was captivated by some invisible force.
Song Qingpei seemed to sense Ming Yu’s gaze, and her movements faltered for a second. Her fingers hovered over her skirt, hesitating, before she finally took it off as well.
With those exquisite curves swaying right before her eyes, Ming Yu’s breathing grew ragged. She felt her own body growing hot, as if a fire had ignited within her. The heat inside her chest rushed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her reason completely.
Ming Yu spun around sharply, presenting her back to Song Qingpei, desperately trying to calm her erratic breathing.
Song Qingpei’s spine was rigid. She had felt Ming Yu’s gaze burning into her skin—that scorching heat was almost unbearable. Thankfully, the sensation of being watched suddenly vanished. Ming Yu had probably stepped out.
She fumbled for the edge of the bathtub, intent on washing as quickly as possible to end the agonizing embarrassment.
But because she couldn’t see, and the floor was rather slippery, she lost her footing and very nearly pitched face-first into the tub. Terrified, she let out a shriek. “Ah!”
Hearing her cry, Ming Yu instantly whipped around and crossed the distance in two strides to catch her.
A completely naked Song Qingpei crashed directly into her arms.
In that instant, Song Qingpei wished she could dig a hole and bury herself alive. She looked exactly as if she were trying to seduce someone—if she claimed it wasn’t on purpose, even she wouldn’t believe it. The humiliation was absolute.
Feeling the scorching hot body pressed against her chest, Ming Yu fought to keep her voice from shaking. “Careful. I’ll help you in.”
Song Qingpei nodded, still shaken, and let Ming Yu ease her into the bathtub.
The warm water enveloping her body allowed her taut nerves to relax just a fraction.
Ming Yu crouched by the edge of the tub. “Is the water temperature alright?” she asked in a low voice.
Song Qingpei nodded, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. “Mn. It’s just right.”
Ming Yu said nothing more. She just silently looked at her.
The bathroom was completely quiet save for the lapping of the water, the air saturated with a heavy, ambiguous tension.
With her eyes covered by the ribbon and her vision gone, Song Qingpei’s hearing and sense of touch had grown exceptionally sharp.
She could clearly hear Ming Yu’s breathing, which sounded noticeably heavier than usual. She could even detect the faint scent of pheromones wafting from her.
This subtle atmosphere made Song Qingpei increasingly uncomfortable. She hurriedly rinsed herself off and prepared to stand up. “I’m done washing. Give me the bathrobe.”
However, the moment she moved, Ming Yu’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, pushing her right back into the water.
Ming Yu’s voice was low and restrained. “You haven’t rinsed clean.”
Song Qingpei’s body stiffened slightly. She felt Ming Yu’s fingers scoop up warm water and glide lightly over her skin, as if truly helping her wash.
Her heartbeat spiked. Her own breathing grew rapid.
The scent of Ming Yu’s pheromones in the air was growing stronger, thicker, filling Song Qingpei with a wave of unease.
“I really am done washing. Give me the bathrobe,” Song Qingpei said, trying to push Ming Yu’s hand away.
Ming Yu didn’t let go. Instead, she leaned in closer, a blurry edge of interrogation in her voice. “Why is it fine with Mengmeng, but not with me?”
She had asked it vaguely, but Song Qingpei understood instantly, and the bitterness of it made her swallow hard.
Previously, she really hadn’t been able to resist marking Mengmeng, and just yesterday they had nearly crossed the line again. But when facing Ming Yu, she had always maintained her rationality; she had never truly stepped over that boundary. At this moment, she hadn’t even unraveled the situation between Ming Yu and Mengmeng, much less figured out how to answer the question.
She grit her teeth and shot back in a low voice, “Neither is fine. Stop fooling around.”
Ming Yu sneered, a derisive note in her voice. “Your pheromones last night didn’t say that.”
Song Qingpei fell silent.
She couldn’t deny it. Last night, under Mengmeng’s provocations, her pheromones had indeed spiraled out of control.
They remained locked in a stalemate, the tension in the room thick enough to wring water from.
Song Qingpei took a deep breath and tried to play the patient card. “Ming Yu, that’s enough. I’m still a patient here!”
Ming Yu stared at her for a few seconds before her expression finally eased, and she backed away slightly.
But she wasn’t about to let it go just like that. Out of nowhere, she dropped a command: “Song Qingpei. Call me jiejie.”
Song Qingpei looked in her direction in disbelief. “You’re taking advantage of my misery!”
Ming Yu let out a cold laugh, dripping with sarcasm. “Have you lost count of how long you’ve been taking advantage of me?”
Song Qingpei was left entirely speechless.
It was true. While using Mengmeng’s identity, she had taken advantage of Ming Yu quite a bit. But asking her to call Ming Yu ‘jiejie’ right now? She simply couldn’t get the word past her lips.
The two remained deadlocked.
Song Qingpei was entirely exposed. As the heat of the water began to recede, she even started to feel chills.
Just then, Song Song’s voice and a rapid knocking came from outside the door. “Mama, Mommy, open the door!”
Song Qingpei felt as if she had been granted a royal pardon. She hurriedly urged Ming Yu, “Quick, give me the bathrobe! It’s not good if Song Song sees!”
Ming Yu frowned. She was clearly unwilling to let the interruption go, but she ultimately compromised, turning to grab the bathrobe and handing it over.
Song Qingpei quickly slipped it on, tied the belt securely, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Ming Yu walked to the door and pulled it open. Song Song immediately threw herself inside and hugged Song Qingpei’s legs. “Mama, are you taking a bath? I want a bath too!”
Song Qingpei crouched down and stroked Song Song’s head, her tone gentle. “Be a good girl, Song Song. Mama’s already finished washing. Mommy will help you wash in a bit, okay?”
Song Song pouted, but quickly broke into a smile again. “Okay! Then Mama can play with me!”
Song Qingpei nodded and took Song Song by the hand, leading her out of the bathroom.
Ming Yu stood to the side, her eyes complex as she watched Song Qingpei’s back.
She knew her behavior just now had been slightly out of control—even childish—but she hadn’t been able to rein in her instinctual impulses.
It was as if… this was how they were always meant to be.
Footnotes
- The phrase 'to strike an official tune' (dǎ guānqiāng) refers to speaking in bureaucratic jargon or giving someone an official runaround instead of a direct answer.
- The phrase 'sweet little padded jacket' (tiēxīn xiǎo mián'ǎo) is a common, affectionate Chinese idiom used to describe a caring daughter who brings warmth and comfort to her parents, much like a winter coat.
- The idiom 'a dog's mouth cannot spit out ivory' (gǒu zuǐ lǐ tǔ bù chū xiàngyá) means that a foul-mouthed or crude person cannot say anything refined or pleasant.
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