Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 50

Initiative Marking

When Ming Yu received the message, she was reviewing the new cadet roster for the military academy. She assumed it was work-related information from a subordinate and didn’t check it immediately. By the time she finally finished, an hour had passed.

She habitually opened her light-terminal, preparing to handle the work messages one by one.

            

When she opened her messages, among that flood of work-related notifications, her eyes immediately landed on the two characters labeled “Wife.”

She had changed that label herself after her failed attempt to reconcile with Song Qingpei, a small comfort to soothe herself. Now, she couldn’t help but open the message immediately.

【No matter what happens, make sure to eat properly. Your health is the capital of revolution¹.】

            

The bright message flashed before her eyes, making Ming Yu wonder for a moment if she was seeing things.

Since reuniting with Song Qingpei, Song Qingpei had never sent her a message like this. Even when she did send messages, they were strictly business—like that time about Murong Ruixue’s matter—concise and to the point, with barely any warmth to speak of.

But this message was filled with concern, an intimacy she hadn’t felt in so long.

            

In that moment, the Admiral’s mood was indescribably moved, and she even felt a small pang of guilt for not having eaten. Her mind spun frantically—why would Song Qingpei suddenly send her this message? Had she finally come to her senses and was trying to signal reconciliation? Or was it simply for Song Song’s sake, not wanting their relationship to remain so strained?

Either way, for her, it was progress she hadn’t dared to hope for.

Ming Yu held her light-terminal with trembling fingers, thinking about how to reply.

            

【Qingpei, thank you for your concern. I’ve eaten.】

Just as she was about to send it, she wondered if that was too formal and cold.

Qingpei probably wouldn’t like that. She thought for a moment, deleted it, and tried again: 【Wife, have you eaten?】 But then she worried that was being too presumptuous—would Song Qingpei get angry?

            

Delete, retype, delete. After a long while, the Admiral finally sent a carefully composed message:

【Qingpei, I’ve eaten. What did you have for lunch?】

Calling her Qingpei—intimate but respectful. She’d eaten—precisely answering the question. The final question gave the other person a chance to reply.

            

The Admiral planned it perfectly. This way, they could chat a bit more.

After sending the message, she rested her chin on her hand and waited for Song Qingpei’s reply.

One minute, five minutes, ten minutes, half an hour passed… until the day ended.

            

She didn’t receive Song Qingpei’s reply even as she left Military Headquarters. The Admiral returned home dejectedly, wondering the whole way if she’d replied too slowly and Song Qingpei was angry.

When she got home, she found Song Qingpei playing happily with Song Song. Seeing her return, Song Qingpei just said hello, seemingly unaffected at all.

Ming Yu couldn’t help but probe: “Qingpei, did you see the message I sent you?”

            

Song Qingpei didn’t even lift her head. “I saw it. Why?”

Of course she wanted to know why Song Qingpei had suddenly shown concern for her. Did she agree to reconcile? And with Song Qingpei still in her susceptible period, did she need her “help”?

Thinking about how she’d been rejected time and again during her own heat periods, the Admiral was more than willing to provide assistance. But her pride had been shattered so many times, she couldn’t quite read Song Qingpei’s intentions and didn’t dare risk further humiliation.

            

Ming Yu wanted to speak but hesitated, hesitated but wanted to speak.

In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to ask her suspicions aloud. She just sat absent-mindedly playing with Song Song for a while, until Song Qingpei coaxed the little one to sleep in the children’s room. Then she sat alone in the living room, waiting for Song Qingpei to come down.

She still wasn’t satisfied.

            

When Song Qingpei finally settled the clingy little one and came out of the room, looking down from the second-floor railing, she saw Ming Yu sitting on the sofa. Her usually straight spine was rarely leaning against the back of the sofa, showing a slightly curved arc. One hand covered her eyes, looking utterly exhausted.

Seeing her like this, Song Qingpei couldn’t help but think of what she’d heard from Murong Ruixue—guessing that Ming Yu must have encountered trouble at the military academy, which was why she seemed so dejected. She paused in her steps, hesitated briefly, then walked down the stairs.

Hearing footsteps approach, Ming Yu suddenly sat up straight, lowered her hand, and looked at her nervously: “…Song Song’s asleep.”

            

“Mm, she’s asleep.” Song Qingpei walked closer, speaking softly. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

A rare gentle tone.

The Admiral felt greatly encouraged again. She felt she hadn’t misread the situation—Song Qingpei was reaching out to her. So she deliberately used a tired, vulnerable tone: “I can’t sleep.”

            

Song Qingpei comforted her: “Don’t think so much. Go to sleep early. We can deal with things tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

Ming Yu agreed verbally, but in her heart, she thought some things were better discussed in the bedroom.

            

So she stood up, walked toward the second floor, then naturally turned toward Song Qingpei’s room.

Song Qingpei, following behind:

She’s already gotten used to playing the cuckoo and taking over the magpie’s nest². And thinking about it, every time Ming Yu slept in her room, she basically caused some kind of trouble. Since she still had the mood to come cause trouble, the military academy matter probably wasn’t that serious. Song Qingpei relaxed.

            

Ming Yu walked into the room and stopped in the middle of the bedroom, once again looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Seeing this, Song Qingpei walked over and raised an eyebrow. “You have something to say?”

Hearing this, Ming Yu brought up the old topic again: “Why didn’t you reply to the message I sent at noon?”

            

Just that? Song Qingpei was confused and answered casually: “I was repairing a mech at the time. By the time I saw it, it was almost time to get off work, so I didn’t reply. Why?”

She wouldn’t be questioning her for not replying, would she? Shouldn’t Ming Yu be too busy dealing with military academy matters to have time for such boring little questions?

Seeing her explain so lightly, Ming Yu frowned in distress and explained again: “Qingpei, I didn’t mean to reply so late. It’s just that the military academy matters were keeping me busy…”

            

“I understand.” Song Qingpei looked completely confused. “Ming Yu, what exactly do you want to say?”

“You… why did you send me that kind of message at noon?” Ming Yu stammered.

What kind of message? Just telling her to eat?

            

Song Qingpei couldn’t understand Ming Yu’s meaning at all. She frowned in annoyance and said, “Admiral, can’t you just speak directly? I really can’t guess what you’re trying to say with all this beating around the bush.”

Seeing her change the address to “Admiral,” Ming Yu vaguely felt she might be unhappy. Her heart instinctively panicked, and in her flustered state, she couldn’t help but ask her question anxiously: “Qingpei, you… caring about me, does that mean you still… like me a little? Willing to try reconciling with me, right?”

She’d just sent a message telling her to eat—how did Ming Yu jump to caring about her? Liking her? Willing to reconcile?

            

This ability to fill in the blanks herself was impressive.

Song Qingpei pressed her fingers to her temples, not even knowing what to say for a moment.

Seeing her silence, Ming Yu felt increasingly uneasy and asked unwillingly, “…Is that it?”

            

“What do you think?” Song Qingpei looked at her, laughing in spite of herself. “Ming Yu, I just heard from Murong Ruixue that you were being targeted by Zhan Nansheng at the military academy. I was worried about your temper… just showing a little concern. Really, no need to overthink it.”

“So you do care about me.” The Admiral stubbornly seized on the final point.

“Yes, yes, but so what?” Song Qingpei looked helpless but still explained: “That’s just concern between friends. I could say the same to Ming Rui, or even to Murong Ruixue…”

            

“But…” Ming Yu’s lips trembled, her voice carrying a sob. “You haven’t been this nice to me in so long. Qingpei, you can slowly accept me, fall in love with me again, right?”

Song Qingpei heard the grievance in her tone, and her pushing for more.

Yes, pushing for more. As long as Song Qingpei retreated a step and released a little goodwill, she would immediately push forward, wanting more. This was her dominant personality, or perhaps also the influence of the “Mental Imprint.”

            

But none of that mattered. What mattered was that this personality had already merged into her bones. Whatever Ming Yu wanted, she would try every method to test and achieve it—this was her instinct, and it would affect her entire life. And this was also the problem between them. Ming Yu never treated her as an equal. All her shows of weakness were to achieve her own goals—

Now her goal was to return to the past.

But she’d never respected Song Qingpei’s own wishes. Did she currently want to? Was she willing to accept?

            

Even though Song Qingpei had clearly expressed that she didn’t want to, that she was still struggling with the past hurt and just wanted to be friends for now, that she didn’t want to have an intimate relationship when things were unclear—none of it mattered. Ming Yu still did whatever she wanted.

In an instant, Song Qingpei suddenly felt a bit powerless, but also vaguely understood some rules of their interaction.

She wanted Ming Yu to respect her, to treat her as an equal. Just protesting verbally was useless. She had to be stronger than Ming Yu to make her genuinely face this problem and then change.

            

Having thought this through, Song Qingpei had to once again puncture their peaceful facade.

She looked at Ming Yu and said, word by word: “Ming Yu, I’ll tell you clearly. Right now, I have no intention of getting back together with you. As for that message, it was purely concern between friends. If even that makes you misunderstand, then I won’t do anything that makes you misunderstand again…”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Ming Yu frantically interrupted her.

            

“Ming Yu, if I wanted to reconcile with you, I would tell you clearly.” Song Qingpei smiled. “So, Admiral, you don’t need to keep filling in the blanks yourself.”

In an instant, Ming Yu’s face went pale. Her lips opened and closed, unable to say a word. Her always stubbornly straight back now looked somewhat unsteady.

And Song Qingpei didn’t stop, shattering her last shred of hope: “Ming Yu, you know clearly what I was like when I loved you. So stop deceiving yourself, alright?”

            

Hearing the last sentence, Ming Yu’s eyes suddenly widened. Her dark eyes misted over, tears slowly gathering, looking like they were about to fall but didn’t. Since recovering her memory and becoming clear-headed, she had never cried in front of Song Qingpei. But now, she felt an unbearable sense of grievance that made her want to cry.

Ming Yu, you know clearly what I was like when I loved you…

She knew all too well what Song Qingpei had been like when she loved her during her amnesia. And Song Qingpei’s words were ruthlessly stabbing at her heart, as if telling her: stop deceiving yourself—you’ll never receive that kind of love again.

            

In an instant, enormous panic gripped her heart, almost making her unable to breathe. The Admiral’s final dignity completely shattered. Tears she’d held back for so long rolled down her cheeks, her voice trembling uncontrollably with sobs.

“Qingpei, don’t treat me like this… What exactly… do you want me to do, for you to be like before?”

She spoke while crying uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face as she looked at Song Qingpei.

            

Song Qingpei was actually startled by this reaction. She’d just been a bit dissatisfied that Ming Yu kept pushing forward step by step, getting jealous for no reason, not taking her words seriously. After holding it in for so long, she’d snapped back at her a few times—she hadn’t expected her to cry like this.

For a moment, she forgot what she was going to say.

Seeing her silence, Ming Yu panicked even more. She suddenly lunged forward, hugging Song Qingpei’s waist, holding on like she was grasping at a final lifeline, begging in a low voice near her ear: “Please, give me another chance, okay? Really, I’ll do anything you want.”

            

Such a humble Admiral made Song Qingpei inexplicably excited.

Since reuniting with the recovered Ming Yu, whether because of their status gap, their conflicts, or Song Song, she’d been suppressing her true nature. Only when pushed to the point of no retreat by Ming Yu would she occasionally show some sharp edges.

Now, facing Ming Yu who was tightly hugging her, begging with sobs in her ear, she suddenly couldn’t help but recall those indescribable moments from the past. Back then with Mengmeng, she’d loved to deliberately bully her in bed, watching her show that tearful but not quite crying expression, looking pitiful as she said: Jiejie, you’re bullying me…

            

Song Qingpei suddenly realized she might have some perverted genes. Because facing Ming Yu crying and showing weakness like this, she didn’t feel any heartache—she just felt that this Admiral had a certain… allure, making her heart race.

When she realized her own thoughts, she was startled. Her body was actually starting to heat up. Song Qingpei didn’t expect the slap to come so quickly—she’d just told Ming Yu so righteously to stop deceiving herself.

Ming Yu, completely unaware of Song Qingpei’s thoughts, was still immersed in panic, afraid Song Qingpei would unceremoniously push her away. She tentatively tightened her arms around her waist and begged again in a trembling voice: “Say something, okay? Qingpei, I really know I was wrong. I’ll change. Please… give me another chance, okay?”

            

Good, too good.

Song Qingpei, coming back to her senses, quickly pushed her away, afraid she’d be caught and slapped in the face.

Sensing her movement, the person in her arms held on tight. Song Qingpei used great effort to push her away. Ming Yu looked at her with red eyes, unable to say a word, like a death row prisoner waiting for the final verdict.

            

Song Qingpei coughed twice and said seriously: “Ming Yu, I just hope you can respect me, listen to what I say, and communicate as equals.”

Ming Yu, who had expected to be kicked out, saw the light in her eyes suddenly reignite. She looked at her in disbelief and stammered: “Can I…”

“Don’t speak so soon.” Song Qingpei interrupted her. “Which of the things I said before did you actually listen to? You still did whatever you wanted.”

            

“I…” Ming Yu couldn’t refute and lowered her eyes. “I can change.” As if afraid Song Qingpei wouldn’t believe her, she repeated: “Qingpei, I really can change.”

As if to confirm her words, Song Qingpei deliberately said: “Alright, I’ll believe you for now. Then let’s start with the simplest thing. From now on, without my permission, you can’t stay in my room to sleep. Can you do that?”

Ming Yu looked at her dejectedly, saying nothing for a long time.

            

“Can you? If not…”

“No need… I can.” Ming Yu said in a hoarse, unwilling voice.

Seeing her eat dirt like this, Song Qingpei secretly laughed inside. She looked at her and issued her dismissal: “Then it’s not early. Go back to sleep. I’m going to rest too.”

            

Ming Yu stood still. The two looked at each other for a moment, like a silent war.

After a long while, Ming Yu said with difficulty: “I… can I stay in your room to sleep?”

“No.” Song Qingpei said flatly.

            

Ming Yu: …

Song Qingpei didn’t speak either, just looked at her.

In the end, the Admiral, out of words, walked out with slumped shoulders. When she reached the door, she stopped again, unwilling to give up, and said quietly: “What… do I have to do to stay?”

            

That’s more like it!

A mouth is for speaking properly. See, she learned to communicate properly, instead of being high and mighty and awkward.

Thinking this, Song Qingpei tilted her head and smiled: “Call me Jiejie.”

            

Ming Yu: …

She stood there, neither speaking nor leaving.

Song Qingpei just watched her with a smile, not speaking either. It was like the first time they’d confronted each other about saying Jiejie, except this time she had more active guidance and patience.

            

Seeing that Ming Yu just couldn’t bring herself to do it, she laughed softly: “Admiral, it’s just calling Jiejie. Only the two of us are here. No one else will hear.”

As if she’d been waiting for this out, Ming Yu finally turned and walked back.

She was still wearing her military uniform, eyes lowered. Shame made the tips of her ears flush red. Her red lips opened and closed. After a long while, she finally closed her eyes and called out extremely quietly: “Jiejie.”

            

So soft it was barely audible.

Song Qingpei felt her body heating up again. Her pheromones seemed to be stirring as well.

She suddenly felt that doing this during her susceptible period wasn’t a wise choice. At this moment, she couldn’t help but feel lucky that she could still control herself, unlike Ming Yu during her heat periods.

            

In this moment, she suddenly felt some sympathy for Ming Yu, who had been tortured by her heat periods. Someone so proud, facing her heat period had to… Before she could finish feeling sympathetic, she remembered the humiliation when Ming Yu ordered her to mark her, and the sympathy vanished, replaced by a hidden impulse.

She wanted to press the person before her beneath her, make her lose control, beg for mercy…

Her body grew even hotter. Song Qingpei quickly steadied her mind and deliberately lowered her voice: “It’s not early. Go to sleep.”

            

The lights went out.

In the darkness, only the sound of the two of them rustling as they turned over could be heard.

Ming Yu lay in the dark, secretly watching the person beside her. Earlier, she seemed to have sensed a trace of pheromone scent. Though very faint, she was sure she hadn’t misread it—Song Qingpei still had feelings for her.

            

Should she take this opportunity to do something?

The Admiral hesitated, feeling the opportunity was rare, but afraid of ruining things.

Song Qingpei had strong control over her body’s desires. Not long after lying down, the intimate thoughts that had risen in her heart were suppressed. She turned over, preparing to sleep.

            

If someone’s leg hadn’t suddenly slipped into her covers and started rubbing against her.

Under the cover of darkness, Ming Yu forcefully suppressed her racing heart and said in a muffled voice: “I’m a bit cold. Can I sleep with you?”

Heh, quite polite, knowing to ask.

            

Was this what she meant by those words? Song Qingpei was almost amused. She didn’t speak.

In the Admiral’s eyes, not speaking meant default. Not refusing meant agreeing.

So, her legs first slipped into Song Qingpei’s covers. Seeing she didn’t move, half her body pressed in as well. Finally, her whole self lay inside Song Qingpei’s covers.

            

Only then did Song Qingpei realize Ming Yu had somehow taken off all her clothes.

Completely.

Her whole body pressed close, burning hot, stirring up the desires Song Qingpei had just suppressed. The Alpha’s pheromones quickly seeped out, soon filling the room.

            

This was the first time Song Qingpei’s pheromones had been triggered. Ming Yu was both surprised and delighted. She leaned close to Song Qingpei’s ear, mixing with warm breath, pretending to be surprised: “Your susceptible period hasn’t passed yet? Since you’ve helped me through my heat periods so many times, how about I help you…”

“Alright.”

Before Ming Yu could react, she just felt a chill on the back of her neck.

            

Her gland was gently scraped by fingertips, making her whole body tremble. She turned her head in surprise to look at Song Qingpei, but was forcefully pressed to the side, exposing the vulnerable gland on her neck.

Suddenly, she felt inexplicably nervous. “Qingpei, ngh—”

In her cry of surprise, burning lips attached to her neck, blocking all her words in her throat.

            

In this moment, she finally understood that Song Qingpei’s previous soothing had been merely perfunctory—nothing like this intensity.

Though Song Qingpei’s pheromones were faint, they were strangely dominant. Soon Ming Yu’s whole body went soft as water, like a small boat swaying in the wind and rain, instinctively holding tight to Song Qingpei.

“Wuwu, be gentler…”

            

Song Qingpei turned a deaf ear to her half-rejecting, half-welcoming pleas.

She was somewhat out of control. As far back as she could remember, she rarely did this. Perhaps because this was the first time she was actively intimate with the recovered Ming Yu, and seeing such a proud person so submissive and surrendered. Or perhaps because of their long entanglement, there was a forbidden feeling. All of it made her unable to restrain herself.

In the end, she forcefully injected her pheromones into Ming Yu’s gland, feeling her trembling.

            

Ming Yu seemed unable to bear it and passed out…

When reason returned, Song Qingpei couldn’t help but feel some regret. Perhaps she’d gone too far.

But Ming Yu’s reaction… was also too intense. This was just a temporary mark.

            

Song Qingpei, in her post-clarity state³, didn’t think much of it. She sighed and, for the first time, actively held Ming Yu as she slept.

In her dreams, she seemed to hear someone speaking softly: Jiejie, don’t bully me…

---

The next day, when Ming Yu woke, she found the person beside her gone. Only residual warmth remained.

            

She was inexplicably a bit unhappy. She’d just left like that, even though last night…

Thinking about it now, she still couldn’t help trembling. That aggressive Song Qingpei had inexplicably made her a bit afraid. Was this the natural suppression of an Alpha over an Omega?

Thinking about being completely marked… she…

            

Ming Yu couldn’t help but flush at the ears. Her body subconsciously trembled, as if the lingering sensation from last night remained, making her body heat up again.

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open. “Get up, time to eat.”

Song Qingpei only half-opened the door and didn’t come in.

            

Ming Yu, feeling guilty, quickly pulled the covers over herself and said muffledly: “I know. I’ll come down.”

When she slowly got dressed and went downstairs, Song Qingpei was already sitting at the dining table with Song Song. Seeing her, Song Song called out enthusiastically: “Mommy~ come eat quickly.”

Ming Yu walked over, paused, and deliberately sat next to Song Qingpei, across from Song Song.

            

Song Song was attentively eating bread. Seeing her sit down, she just happened to notice the small bruise revealed by Ming Yu’s high collar and asked curiously: “Mommy, what happened to your neck?”

Song Qingpei immediately felt guilty and silently looked away.

Ming Yu found it interesting. Today’s Song Qingpei seemed to have less confidence when facing her. Her fingers deliberately traced her neck as she laughed: “Bitten by a cat.”

            

Song Song widened her innocent eyes: “Mommy, we don’t have a cat at home. Did you secretly go pet a cat? I want to pet one too.”

This made Song Qingpei even more awkward. She could only urge: “Alright Song Song, eat quickly. You’ll be late.”

Song Song could only pout and say a few more things about wanting to raise a cat, then buried her head and ate. Song Qingpei looked at Ming Yu helplessly. Ming Yu met her gaze openly and said: “After eating, I’ll drive you to work.”

            

Song Qingpei nodded. “Okay.”

After the meal, Song Song was confused—Mommy was really only driving Mama, letting someone else take her to school.

“Wuwu~ Are Mommy and Mama this close now? I’m a superfluous little poor thing.”

            

Seeing this, Song Qingpei didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was about to agree to make a detour to drop Song Song at school first, but unexpectedly Ming Yu suddenly leaned close to Song Song’s ear and whispered something.

Song Song’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Really? Pinky promise.”

Ming Yu smiled and nodded, linking pinkies with Song Song. The little one skipped happily off to school.

            

Song Qingpei couldn’t help but be curious: “What did you say to her?”

Ming Yu didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned close to Song Qingpei’s ear and whispered: “Call me Jiejie once, and I’ll tell you.”

To this, Song Qingpei expressed that she wasn’t that curious.

            

Ignoring Ming Yu, she walked straight out. Ming Yu chased after her, and the two got into the hover car together.

In the car, Ming Yu still wouldn’t give up: “You really don’t want to know what I said to Song Song?”

Song Qingpei suppressed her curiosity and calmly shook her head.

            

Ming Yu seemed very disappointed by this and immediately lost interest, directly revealing the answer: “I promised Song Song I’d buy her a cat. When we have time this weekend, let’s go pick one together.”

Hearing how easily she’d been tricked out of the answer, Song Qingpei held back a laugh inside and nodded in agreement.

When she looked up, her gaze inadvertently swept across the mark on Ming Yu’s neck. She couldn’t help but reach out to pull up her military collar, saying with some regret: “Sorry, last night… I was a bit out of control. Do you want to find something to cover it?”

            

Ming Yu realized what she was referring to and said nonchalantly: “This is nothing. They wouldn’t dare say anything to my face.” She paused, then added: “But you, why were you so… so excited last night? That’s not like you.”

Rarely getting a chance to turn the tables on Song Qingpei, Ming Yu deliberately continued the suggestive topic, trying to get her to say something she wanted to hear—like that she actually liked her, even just a little.

Ming Yu looked at her expectantly. Song Qingpei smiled: “The Admiral is so alluring and so proactive. If I remained that cold, wouldn’t I be too clueless about romance?”

            

This somewhat improper manner made Ming Yu freeze.

By the time she reacted, she realized Song Qingpei was teasing her. Her ears couldn’t help but flush red.

She was trying to say something to save face when Song Qingpei had already quickly changed the subject: “By the way, how are things going at the military academy? Is it going well?”

            

This was just a casual topic she brought up. But the Admiral was a serious person. Rarely seeing Song Qingpei proactively ask about her work, she immediately explained the situation simply, within the bounds of what wasn’t classified.

After listening, Song Qingpei couldn’t help but be surprised: “Why is Director Wu helping you so enthusiastically this time?”

Ming Yu rarely showed a proud expression and smiled: “Because she has leverage in my hands, and our interests align.”

            

Song Qingpei knew her boundaries and knew it wasn’t convenient to ask further, so she didn’t continue the topic.

The two talked a bit more about Song Song. The atmosphere was very harmonious.

For the first time, Ming Yu felt the journey was so short. Before Song Qingpei got out of the car, she specifically reminded her: “Qingpei, don’t take too many risks with Murong Ruixue’s matter. Your safety is most important.”

            

“I know.”

Watching Song Qingpei leave, Ming Yu then went to Military Headquarters.

Getting out of the car, she felt refreshed. She even rarely proactively greeted a subordinate passing by, shocking almost half of Military Headquarters. Before long, nearly everyone knew.

            

Today, Admiral Ming was in a good mood.

Entering her office, Ming Yu sat down and began handling official business, very focused and attentive. But if one observed carefully, they’d notice that whenever she stopped, her fingers would unconsciously stroke the collar of her military uniform.

Thinking about Song Qingpei pressing against her neck last night, that faint cedar scent, that dominant possession—it couldn’t be her imagination. She definitely liked her.

            

The Admiral began self-hypnosis again. As long as she worked a bit harder, she could definitely make Song Qingpei fall in love with her again.

Definitely.

“Admiral Ming, the President requests your presence in the conference room.” Lieutenant Lin’s voice came, interrupting her thoughts.

            

Ming Yu immediately withdrew her thoughts and returned to her proper demeanor, turning toward the conference room.

The moment she pushed open the door, she saw about a dozen council members inside. Zhan Nansheng’s finger was sliding rapidly across the holographic projection, trainee data flickering in the air.

President Zhan Li sat in the main seat, his gaze cold.

            

“Admiral Ming, please sit.” Zhan Li’s voice carried no warmth.

Ming Yu sat down across from Zhan Nansheng, her gaze sweeping across the names on the holographic projection.

Those two marked Omega names were still glaring. Beside them were newly added detailed data analyses: mental strength fluctuation curves, genetic sequences, physical constitution assessments.

            

“Admiral Ming, Lieutenant General Zhan has submitted evidence showing that these Omegas’ mental strength is not suited for the military academy’s high-intensity training.” Zhan Li asked: “Do you have any explanation?”

Ming Yu straightened her spine, her fingertips lightly tapping on the table: “Mr. President, I believe selection standards shouldn’t be limited to mental strength alone. These Omegas have performed excellently in actual combat and are fully capable of contributing to the Federation.”

Zhan Nansheng sneered, her finger heavily tapping the table: “Contribution? Admiral Ming, it’s indisputable that Omegas are naturally physically weaker. There’s no need to waste military academy resources on this.”

            

She’d thought Zhan Nansheng had already compromised with yesterday’s statement. She hadn’t expected her to go back on her word so quickly and even misuse public authority to bring this before her father.

Ming Yu tried to suppress the anger in her heart: “I’ve already planned to create special training programs for these Omegas, ensuring they can complete training within safe parameters. This way we can both guarantee their career development and avoid unnecessary risks.”

“I object!” Zhan Nansheng still insisted. “Admiral Ming, you’re wasting Federation resources! Are Omegas not going to have children?”

            

Ming Yu sneered, her gaze directly meeting Zhan Nansheng’s: “I’ve considered that too. And before coming, I’ve already communicated with the two trainees—they won’t have children before age thirty-five.”

“But let me ask… does bearing a child for a year or so really affect the military academy, or even the Federation’s future? With so many excellent Alphas, why can’t you accommodate an Omega who needs a year of recovery?”

Zhan Nansheng was momentarily speechless, her face iron-gray: “But A-level mental strength, absolutely cannot…”

            

“Mm, that can be discussed too.” Ming Yu nodded in agreement: “Trainees entering the academy must have at least S-level mental strength manipulation. For those with exceptional abilities in certain areas, after school discussion and approval, A-level can be appropriately considered. This is mainly to avoid losing talent.”

Ming Yu raised her hand and opened the profiles of these two A-level Omegas: “One is fluent in all interstellar languages, even some minor dialects. This is very beneficial for our interstellar conquests and decoding planetary languages.”

“And this one, a planetary structure geology expert…”

            

In the end, after intense discussion, the meeting passed Ming Yu’s proposal.

Omegas entering the military academy must sign an agreement promising not to have children before age thirty, and mental strength must reach S-level. Some with special abilities could have restrictions appropriately relaxed.

Though somewhat unequal, this was already the best result.

            

After the meeting ended and the council members and Zhan Nansheng had left, only Ming Yu and Zhan Li remained.

Zhan Li said somewhat helplessly: “You know, Ming Yu, I support you. But… the world’s misunderstanding of Omegas is still severe. So if you want to change things, it’s up to you young people.”

“I understand.” Ming Yu said: “This all takes a process. Thank you for your support, Mr. President.”

            

Hearing this, Zhan Li sighed: “Admiral Ming, you’re mature and steady. Please be more tolerant of Nansheng in the future. Her temper… is a bit hasty. I’ve criticized her at home, but… well, you young people can work things out yourselves.”

Zhan Li waved his hand. Ming Yu turned and left.

Zhan Li returned to the Presidential Palace. Inside, he saw Zhan Nansheng sitting on the reception sofa, still flipping through those people’s profiles.

            

“Father, I don’t think I performed well just now. I…”

“Enough. When will you ever learn to behave? You’re already a Lieutenant General, how can you be so unstable? Today’s meeting, I thought you two had finalized the list. But you openly opposed Ming Yu! Isn’t this clearly telling everyone that before the military academy even opens, you two are at odds? Isn’t this letting people laugh at us?”

“So what? She was the one in the wrong.”

            

“Your temper, really…”

Zhan Li sighed, his finger sliding across the hovering trainee list, saying with disappointment: “Do you think Ming Yu is simply helping Omegas? Look at the trainees she’s protecting—”

The light points suddenly exploded into dense genetic chains. “Third Fleet Staff Officer Qin Wan, her father is the Qin family’s chief genetic engineer—one of the five great families. And Medical Officer Murong Tang, she’s the Marshal’s granddaughter… Ming Yu is using military academy slots to exchange for these families’ support, trying to reach the position of Marshal.”

            

“And you… you’re still fighting with Ming Yu over petty things. When will you think of this, put away your aggressive and combative heart, and do your work properly.”

Zhan Nansheng, having her sore spot hit, said angrily: “In your eyes, I’m never as good as Ming Yu anyway. In that case, you might as well do what her grandmother did—give me a Mental Imprint. That way I can grow according to your requirements.”

“You… you want to anger me to death, don’t you?” Zhan Li nearly fainted.

            

Just then, Wu Lan pushed open the door. Zhan Nansheng went silent like a conditioned reflex.

Wu Lan first glanced at Zhan Nansheng, then advised President Zhan Li not to be angry, speaking gently: “Don’t be angry. The Eldest Miss is young and impulsive, inevitably a bit rash.”

Zhan Li angrily waved his hand, his face iron-gray: “Let her get out! I can’t be bothered with her anymore!”

            

Zhan Nansheng’s face darkened. She turned to leave.

But Wu Lan reached out to stop her, her tone calm but with undeniable force: “Eldest Miss, don’t be in such a hurry to leave. The President is angry. Calm down first.”

Relying on the fact that Wu Lan wouldn’t dare do anything in front of her father, Zhan Nansheng coldly snorted and shook off her hand: “Get lost! I don’t need you to manage me!”

            

Wu Lan didn’t mind. Instead, she turned to Zhan Li and simply reported on work progress: “Mr. President, there’s no new progress in the investigation on Murong Ruixue’s side. We’re continuing to follow up.”

Zhan Li nodded, his expression slightly easing but still carrying anger: “Alright, I know. You take her out first. Don’t let her anger me.”

“Alright, I’ll properly advise the Eldest Miss.”

            

Wu Lan agreed, then turned to Zhan Nansheng: “Eldest Miss, let’s go.”

The two walked out of the office one after another.

Zhan Nansheng knew clearly in her heart that she’d gone back on her word regarding the military academy recruitment, and Wu Lan definitely wouldn’t let her off easily. She felt a bit guilty and turned to slip away, but Wu Lan grabbed her.

            

Wu Lan leaned close to her ear, her voice low: “Eldest Miss, where are you going? Do you want me to spread those ‘enticing’ photos across the entire star system?”

Zhan Nansheng’s expression changed. She gritted her teeth and glared at Wu Lan: “You wouldn’t dare!”

Wu Lan smiled slightly: “Do you think I would or wouldn’t?”

            

Zhan Nansheng trembled with anger but had no choice. If those photos got out, everything would be over.

She could only suppress the anger in her heart and follow Wu Lan into her hover car.

Getting in the car, Zhan Nansheng instinctively trembled. She deliberately kept her distance from Wu Lan, using a loud voice to mask her fear: “Wu Lan, I’m telling you, don’t push your luck. I… I can’t be threatened by you forever.”

            

Wu Lan started the hover car and glanced at her indifferently: “Eldest Miss, you went back on what you promised me before. That’s not like your style.”

“So what if I went back on my word?” Zhan Nansheng coldly snorted, turning her head away. “The military academy recruitment shouldn’t have been for you to interfere in the first place. Why are you helping Ming Yu? Don’t forget, my family funded your education, my father promoted you with his own hands. You’re repaying kindness with enmity, you bastard! Worse than pigs and dogs, you dare treat me like this…”

She cursed more and more fiercely, until she was nearly breaking down.

            

Wu Lan paid no attention to her tantrum, even smiling wickedly:

“Eldest Miss, save some strength. You can curse on the bed later.”

---