Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 47

Growing Affection

Song Qingpei had assumed Ming Yu had thought things through thoroughly and would take a gradual approach, giving Songsong a day off.

But then Ming Yu’s tone shifted abruptly. “I understand. Then tomorrow morning, let Songsong sleep in. In the morning, take her to the Interstellar Museum. In the afternoon, you can still spend some time with her. What do you think?”

            

It was phrased as a question, but that crisp, decisive tone left no room for negotiation. Song Qingpei could only agree.

Early the next morning, Song Qingpei got ready and went downstairs, only to find the two of them already at the door. It was clear they had no intention of waiting for her.

“So I’m… not part of the plan?”

            

Ming Yu turned back, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Pity. Right now, you should still be locked in the Confinement Bay.”

Song Qingpei’s face instantly fell. No wonder Ming Yu had said she could spend the afternoon with Songsong — she had never intended for her to go in the morning at all!

With no other choice, she returned to her room and went back to sleep.

            

---

When Ming Yu brought Songsong into the Planet Lan Interstellar Museum, the child’s eyes went wide with amazement at the bizarre array of extraterrestrial specimens.

Her little face flushed with excitement as she hurriedly pulled out her light-terminal and started snapping photos of the alien creatures and ancient star exhibits she had never seen before.

Ming Yu stepped forward quickly to remind her. “Songsong, you can take photos in the outer hall, but once we reach the Red Hall inside, photography isn’t allowed.”

            

“Why not, Mommy?” Songsong asked, confused.

Ming Yu frowned, unsure how to explain. That hall contained records of Planet Lan’s humiliations — tragic and painful history, not something appropriate for photographs.

Then she reconsidered — this wasn’t the right time to show Songsong those things anyway. “Because we won’t have enough time today.”

            

“So that means I can take photos now.”

Songsong finished taking pictures and immediately sent them all to Song Qingpei.

A moment later, unable to contain herself, she video-called Song Qingpei through her light-terminal, her small face glowing with excitement. “Mama, look! There’s an octopus as big as a house! Mommy says it’s not from Planet Lan, it’s from another planet. When I grow up, I want to travel through space too!”

            

“Good, very good, wonderful. Mama is seeing this for the first time too — it’s an education.”

Song Qingpei gazed at her daughter’s delighted face on the screen, her eyes full of tenderness. The two of them chatted curiously, and Song Qingpei always managed to find responses to Songsong’s strange and wonderful observations.

Watching Songsong share everything with Song Qingpei — when Ming Yu was the one who had brought her out, yet Songsong was still communicating most with Song Qingpei — a strange sourness rose in Ming Yu’s heart.

            

Butler Su observed from the side and smiled softly. “Miss, honestly, Miss Song has raised the Little Miss so well. Even though it was a single-parent household before, Miss Song gave Songsong so much love. That’s what raised such a sunny, cheerful personality.”

Ming Yu looked up at Songsong bouncing along, radiating sunshine. That was exactly what she had once dreamed of but never had.

In an instant, her thoughts drifted back to those two years of amnesia. Song Qingpei had taken good care of her then — she had even gained some weight. At night, Song Qingpei would lean close to her ear and claim credit in that slightly shameless way of hers.

            

Mengmeng, you look better when you’re a little plumper. Here, it seems like this part has gotten bigger too…

She unconsciously glanced down at her chest. Ming Yu snapped back to reality, her face flushing crimson to her ears. She cursed herself inwardly: What nonsense is she thinking about…

Then she remembered that Song Qingpei’s rut had arrived and she still didn’t want to touch her. Ming Yu grew even more displeased. She strode forward in a fit of pique and inserted herself directly in front of the camera.

            

Song Qingpei was chatting animatedly with Songsong when Ming Yu’s striking face suddenly filled the screen, followed by an icy command: “If you have anything to say, say it when you get back. Don’t interrupt Songsong’s tour.”

Then the screen went black.

Song Qingpei was baffled. What was with that temper? So changeable — everything had been fine when they left in the morning.

            

The mother and daughter spent the morning at the museum and returned at noon.

On the way home, Ming Rui called. “Cousin, my mom told me to invite you to Grandma’s house for dinner tonight.”

Ming Yu’s brow furrowed immediately. After what happened last time, she still felt a knot of resentment in her heart. She said flatly, “I have something to do. I can’t make it.”

            

After a pause, she added, “Song Qingpei is confined.”

Ming Rui’s gossip instincts flared instantly. “What happened?”

Ming Yu briefly explained Murong Ruixue’s probing.

            

Ming Rui was furious after hearing it. “They still won’t give up! Too bad I haven’t been reinstated yet, or I’d definitely help you investigate properly.”

“In a couple days when you’re reinstated, help me decline the dinner at Grandma’s,” Ming Yu replied.

Ming Rui immediately put on a mournful tone. “I don’t want to go either, but my mom insisted I pass the message…”

            

Ming Yu understood — this was the old madam’s intention.

“Handle it however you see fit.”

After hanging up, Ming Yu felt irritable. She didn’t know why, but lately her emotions were all over the place.

            

But Songsong burrowed into her arms, finding a comfortable position to sleep, mumbling, “Mommy, Mommy, sleep together…”

The little bun’s soft, sweet voice actually calmed her.

She had family she wanted to cherish, and who cherished her in return. It was different from before.

            

In the afternoon, they let Songsong play to her heart’s content — they went swimming, a rare moment of family time.

But as they played, they noticed Ming Yu sitting nearby, wrapped in a shawl, using her light-terminal to handle official business.

She was wearing casual clothes, yet still radiated that cold, unapproachable air — like a high mountain, distant and untouchable.

            

In the next instant, Songsong raised her water gun. “Pew pew pew!”

She accidentally hit Ming Yu’s hair.

Songsong shouted, “Mommy, look how good I am! Can I go fight monsters with you when I grow up? The octopus monster has so many arms — Mommy can’t fight it alone. I’ll help you!”

            

Ming Yu’s lips curved. She closed her light-terminal, stood up, and lifted Songsong into her arms. “You have to aim like this…”

But Songsong deliberately sprayed water all over Ming Yu, eventually drawing her into the battle. The three of them played joyfully.

She smiled faintly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Miss this happy.”

            

That night, Song Qingpei returned to the Confinement Bay, then had Lieutenant Lin bring her back. To make it convincing, she deliberately messed up her hair to look disheveled.

---

The next day, Song Qingpei arrived at Blue Sea and stepped out of the car to find Murong Ruixue waiting at the entrance.

Murong Ruixue frowned slightly when she saw Song Qingpei. “Qingpei, you don’t look well.”

            

Song Qingpei sighed and waved her hand. “It’s nothing. Probably just a lot going on lately. I’m tired.”

Murong Ruixue’s expression turned apologetic. “I’m sorry. I heard about what happened…”

“I’m sorry — that day I accidentally hurt you too. We were just colleagues interacting normally. I didn’t expect Admiral Ming to…”

            

Hearing this, Song Qingpei deliberately acted defeated. She lowered her head with a bitter smile, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness.

“Whatever the case, she’s Songsong’s mother. Some things… I just have to endure.”

She finished speaking and glanced up at Murong Ruixue, noticing the woman’s deep, unreadable gaze — as if hiding something.

            

Song Qingpei was about to say something when Murong Ruixue spoke first.

“Admiral Ming is in a position of power, after all. Her way of thinking is different from ours.”

Murong Ruixue’s tone carried a hint of quiet dissatisfaction. “We were just having work contact, and she made such a big deal of it. Of course, I’m not trying to speak ill of her, but… Qingpei, from the looks of it, you two aren’t very compatible either.”

            

“But… for the child’s sake, I have no choice.” Song Qingpei deliberately hesitated.

“What about you? Qingpei, who takes care of you? I really feel for you.”

She knew Murong Ruixue would make a move, but she hadn’t expected her to use the same tactic as before — just to drive a wedge between them? That couldn’t be the whole story.

            

Song Qingpei’s mind raced, but she kept her expression dazed.

Murong Ruixue, seeing no reaction, assumed she was still hesitating and spoke gently. “Qingpei, you can’t just think about the child. You need to think about yourself too.”

Song Qingpei remained silent for a long moment before speaking slowly. “Thank you, Ruixue-jie. But right now… I…”

            

Murong Ruixue smiled. “I understand. Let’s focus on work for now. These things can’t be rushed.”

Throughout the workday, Song Qingpei stayed alert, but Murong Ruixue didn’t do anything else out of line. Instead, Song Qingpei found herself distracted by her own wariness.

After work, Murong Ruixue had a meeting, so Song Qingpei left the company alone.

            

She walked to the parking lot and was about to get into her car when she noticed a woman standing beside it.

The woman wore a uniform, tall and slender, her hair pinned up. Her features were refined yet sharp, and she exuded an air of capable efficiency.

Song Qingpei froze. The woman approached with light, practiced steps — clearly someone trained in combat.

            

“Hello, Song Qingpei.” The woman smiled slightly, her voice cool but not unkind. “My name is Wu Lan. I’m from the Bureau of Investigation.”

Song Qingpei’s heart jumped. Wu Lan? The Director of the Bureau of Investigation that Ming Yu had mentioned? She’d heard Wu Lan was insidious and ruthless, stopping at nothing. Why would she approach her directly?

Wu Lan seemed to read her suspicion and explained, “I’m here about Murong Ruixue. I wanted to ask if there have been any recent developments. Don’t worry — I’ve already spoken with Admiral Ming. She knows your situation.”

            

Song Qingpei wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

Then Wu Lan’s red lips parted, and she silently mouththed three words: ‘Black Kite.’

Song Qingpei believed her then. She nodded and briefly recounted what had happened over the past two days, adding at the end, “There hasn’t been any major progress yet. Murong Ruixue’s behavior is hard to read — I find it strange too.”

            

Wu Lan nodded gently. “People in that organization aren’t ordinary. Murong Ruixue won’t reveal her hand easily. We can’t rush this. But you need to be careful — don’t let her see through you.”

Her voice was soft, her words considerate.

Song Qingpei found it strange. This Bureau Director didn’t seem as sinister as Ming Yu had described — instead, she felt an inexplicable sense of closeness.

            

She was still thinking when Wu Lan suggested, “Why don’t we find somewhere to eat? We can talk while we eat.”

Song Qingpei nodded without thinking. By the time she realized what she’d done, she had already agreed.

She let her hover car drive itself to the restaurant and got into the passenger seat of Wu Lan’s car.

            

On the way, Wu Lan asked casually, “How is Admiral Ming getting along with her daughter? It’s hard to imagine someone usually so decisive and ruthless being with a child.”

Song Qingpei smiled. “Admiral Ming may seem cold, but she’s very good to her daughter. Songsong likes her a lot.”

Wu Lan seemed interested in Ming Yu’s affairs and asked about their time on the abandoned planet.

            

Song Qingpei hesitated. “You should ask Admiral Ming about that yourself. It’s not my place to say.”

Wu Lan chuckled. “You’re quite protective of her.”

Song Qingpei didn’t respond, just smiled.

            

At the restaurant, Wu Lan ordered a few dishes, then asked, “How is working at Blue Sea? Are you settling in?”

Song Qingpei nodded, her tone light. “It’s good. It’s the work I like.”

They chatted a bit more about Murong Ruixue, and Wu Lan exchanged contact codes with Song Qingpei. “If anything comes up, you can contact Admiral Ming, but you can also contact me.”

            

“Alright. Thank you, Director Wu.”

The conversation flowed easily. This Bureau Director wasn’t as unapproachable as she’d imagined — she felt surprisingly warm.

After dinner, Song Qingpei left.

            

Wu Lan walked to her car but didn’t get in. Instead, she headed deeper into the parking lot, her steps light but carrying an unmistakable pressure.

She stopped at an elevator entrance and called out coldly, “Come out.”

Silence. No movement.

            

Wu Lan’s lips curved into a cold smile, her voice laced with mockery. “Zhan Nansheng, did you really think your little tracking trick would fool me?”

A moment later, soft footsteps came from the shadows.

Zhan Nansheng emerged from the darkness, her expression displeased. “When did you notice?”

            

Wu Lan crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. “If I couldn’t detect something this small, I’d be a pretty useless Bureau Director.”

Zhan Nansheng frowned, her eyes sweeping over Wu Lan before settling on her face. Her tone was accusatory. “Why are you getting so close to Song Qingpei?”

Wu Lan laughed, her voice careless. “Who I get close to — what business is that of yours?”

            

Zhan Nansheng’s expression darkened instantly, her tone turning snide. “What, are you only targeting Alphas now?”

Wu Lan’s eyes went cold, her gaze suddenly sharp.

She stepped forward, closing in on Zhan Nansheng, her voice low and dangerous. “Have you forgotten what I said before?”

            

Before she finished speaking, Wu Lan’s pheromones flooded the air, filling it with an intense pressure.

Zhan Nansheng’s legs weakened under the pheromone assault, her body trembling involuntarily.

The words echoed in her mind: Every time I see you, I’ll mark you.

            

Panic surged through her. She tried to step back, but Wu Lan grabbed her by the throat.

Wu Lan’s palm was ice-cold, her grip not too tight but unyielding, pinning Zhan Nansheng in place.

She dragged Zhan Nansheng to the corner and pressed her against the wall. Her other hand lifted Zhan Nansheng’s chin, her gaze carrying a mix of mockery and danger.

            

“Running?” Wu Lan’s voice was low, slightly rough. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Eldest Miss.”

Zhan Nansheng’s breathing quickened, her cheeks flushing.

She tried to break free, but her body had gone weak under Wu Lan’s pheromone suppression.

            

She gritted her teeth, her voice defiant. “Wu Lan, you… don’t go too far.”

Wu Lan laughed. Her fingers traced along Zhan Nansheng’s neck, the touch making Zhan Nansheng shiver.

Zhan Nansheng’s breath came faster, her heart pounding.

            

She tried to speak, but her voice came out faint. “You… what exactly do you want?”

Wu Lan didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned close to Zhan Nansheng’s ear, warm breath brushing against it, her voice low and seductive. “What do you think?”

Zhan Nansheng’s body trembled. Her fingers clutched Wu Lan’s clothes tightly. Her rational mind crumbled under Wu Lan’s pheromones and teasing touches until she could only lean weakly against the wall, letting Wu Lan’s presence envelop her completely.

            

Damn it. Her rut is coming, triggered by this.

Wu Lan’s fingers brushed her cheek, her laugh cold. “Eldest Miss, if you want to be marked, just come find me directly. No need for all these excuses.”

Zhan Nansheng’s breath caught. “I… I didn’t.”

            

Wu Lan laughed again. Her fingers gripped Zhan Nansheng’s chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Didn’t? Then what are you doing right now?”

Zhan Nansheng could barely breathe under Wu Lan’s pheromone suppression. She clenched her jaw, still managing to curse. “Wu Lan, you… bastard! Let go of me. Someone could come any moment… ngh—”

“Then hold back your screams, Eldest Miss.”

            

With that, Wu Lan bit down on Zhan Nansheng’s gland. As the pheromones flooded in, Zhan Nansheng trembled violently, barely able to stand.

“You actually dare to do this here… Wu Lan… I… I won’t let you get away with this…”

Wu Lan only laughed and increased the pressure.

            

Only when the woman in her arms went completely limp did she release her, her tone teasing. “Eldest Miss, that mouth of yours really doesn’t know when to stop.”

Zhan Nansheng tried to curse again, but before she could speak, Wu Lan marked her once more.

Zhan Nansheng’s vision went black. Her body went soft, and she passed out.

            

Wu Lan caught her effortlessly. She looked down at the woman in her arms, something complex flickering in her eyes.

Then she lifted Zhan Nansheng in her arms, placed her gently in the passenger seat, buckled her in, and drove away.

---

Elsewhere, Ming Yu sat in her office, staring at a message that had just arrived on her light-terminal, surprise in her eyes.

            

“Wu Lan actually took Zhan Nansheng home?” Ming Yu murmured to herself.

She hadn’t expected Wu Lan to be so bold — making a move on Zhan Nansheng directly.

Zhan Nansheng wasn’t just anyone. If Wu Lan did this, wasn’t she afraid President Zhan Li would find out?

            

Ming Yu was still thinking when she scrolled down further. Her expression darkened.

“Song Qingpei had a meal with Wu Lan…”

Ming Yu’s brow furrowed tighter.

            

Why would Wu Lan approach Song Qingpei directly? What was her goal?

---

That night, when Song Qingpei returned home, she found Ming Yu sitting on the sofa, holding a cup of tea, her gaze sweeping over coolly.

“You’re back?” Ming Yu’s voice was calm, betraying no emotion. “You’ve eaten, I assume.”

            

Song Qingpei nodded and sat beside her, not hiding anything. “Yes. I had dinner with Director Wu Lan from the Bureau of Investigation today.”

Ming Yu set down her teacup and turned to look at her, her tone probing. “What did Wu Lan talk to you about?”

Song Qingpei answered truthfully. “She mainly asked about Murong Ruixue.”

            

Ming Yu listened, her brow furrowing slightly. “Wu Lan is calculating. Be careful when dealing with her. You can’t just guard against Murong Ruixue — Wu Lan is just as unfathomable. Her approaching you probably isn’t with good intentions.”

“Don’t be so sensitive.” Song Qingpei couldn’t help but defend Wu Lan. “Our conversation today was relaxed. She didn’t show any hostility. She doesn’t seem like the rumors say.”

Ming Yu glanced at her, raising an eyebrow slightly. “How can you trust people so easily? Wu Lan didn’t reach her position in the Bureau of Investigation by being simple. There’s definitely a purpose behind her getting close to you.”

            

For some reason, Song Qingpei felt an inexplicable sense of closeness to Wu Lan. She found herself defending her again. “Ming Yu, aren’t you being overly guarded? I really don’t think she has any ill intentions toward me.”

Ming Yu’s heart sank. Song Qingpei rarely argued with her over outsiders.

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