Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 80

Yearning

The starship cruised through the vast, boundless sea of stars, the viewport framing an endless stretch of darkness and starlight.

Song Qingpei sat in the co-pilot’s seat, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the communication chip Ming Yu had given her.

            

“Have you powered down all your communication devices?” Murong Ruixue suddenly spoke, breaking her train of thought.

Song Qingpei returned to her senses and nodded. “I did exactly as you said.” She paused. “We’ve already left Planet Lan. The Federation shouldn’t be able to track us anymore.”

At those words, Murong Ruixue’s fingers slid rapidly across the control panel, pulling up a star map. “The Federation’s tracking technology is far more advanced than you think. Even though the chip Admiral Ming gave you is encrypted, as long as there is a signal transmission, the Federation Bureau of Investigation could intercept it.”

            

Song Qingpei did not say anything more. It was always better to err on the side of caution.

Noticing her sudden silence, Murong Ruixue hesitated for a moment. With a complex expression, she probed, “Qingpei, are you… thinking about Ming Yu? Have you fallen in love with her all over again?”

At the mention of Ming Yu’s name, Song Qingpei’s heart felt as though it had been pricked by a needle.

            

She remembered Ming Yu’s pale face before her departure, their unborn child, and that fleeting kiss…

Had she fallen in love with Ming Yu again?

For a long time, she had been avoiding this question, unwilling to dwell on it. What Ming Yu had done in the past had exhausted every ounce of her trust. Yet, the moment she truly let go, all their estrangement seemed to be slowly dissolving.

            

She had only been gone for a short while, but a deep, inescapable yearning was already starting to fill her chest.

She was indeed thinking of Ming Yu. Perhaps… she really had fallen in love with her again?

No, she was certain of it. She loved Ming Yu!

            

“Qingpei?” Murong Ruixue’s voice pulled her back to reality. “Are you alright?”

Song Qingpei took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” She paused, as if speaking to Murong Ruixue, but also to herself. “Yes. I love Ming Yu—even more than I did before.”

Astonished by her directness, Murong Ruixue stared blankly for a moment, then let out a wry, bitter smile. “Fate really plays tricks on us. I always thought… we were the ones who were most compatible.”

            

“What?” Song Qingpei stared at her, utterly taken aback.

“Don’t be nervous, I don’t have those thoughts anymore,” Murong Ruixue quickly laughed, seeing her tension. “It’s just that… for so long, my adoptive mother kept telling me that, so it’s hard to change my way of thinking all of a sudden.”

Hearing her mention Murong Xia, Song Qingpei seized the opportunity to ask the doubt in her heart. “Ruixue, when you deliberately got close to me back then, besides wanting to bring me back, what else did you want to do?”

            

She phrased it subtly, but Murong Ruixue’s repeated flirtatious advances and confessions back then had clearly carried other intentions.

A sudden silence descended upon the cabin, broken only by the low, echoing hum of the engines.

It was a long time before Murong Ruixue spoke. “Qingpei, I’m sorry.” Her voice was very quiet, but carried a sincere note of apology. “At the beginning, my painstaking schemes¹ to seduce you were indeed driven by a different motive. I… was trying to complete the task my adoptive mother had given me.”

            

“A task?”

“To find a way to bring you back to see Teacher.” Murong Ruixue gazed into the distance. “And if that failed… at the very least, I was supposed to get pregnant with your child to continue the unfinished experiments. It was my adoptive mother’s dying wish, and a fixation she held onto for twenty years.”

“What experiments?” Hearing something she had been completely unaware of, Song Qingpei’s fingers tightened slightly. “Ruixue, can you tell me more about… Murong Xia?”

            

Murong Ruixue had brought up this topic precisely because she intended to tell her everything.

Thus, she explained slowly, “My adoptive mother was a very stern woman, but she treated me well. She saved me, raised me, educated me, trained me to fight, and… instilled many of her concepts in me.” Murong Ruixue laughed bitterly. “I’ve spent my entire life living for the Black Kite, simply because it was what Teacher expected of me.”

“Is that why you were so obsessed with finding me?”

            

“At first, yes.” Murong Ruixue turned to look at Song Qingpei, her eyes swirling with a complex light. “But later…” She shook her head. “Let’s not talk about that. At any rate, bringing you to see Teacher now is both to fulfill my adoptive mother’s dying wish and… to let you know the truth.”

An inexplicable wave of unease washed over Song Qingpei. “What truth?”

Instead of answering directly, Murong Ruixue asked, “Do you know why Teacher was so determined to find you?”

            

“Because of my mother… and Former President Rong?”

“It’s more than that.” Murong Ruixue’s voice lowered. “You are the key, Qingpei. Under the New Human Plan that Teacher has been researching all these years, you are the most perfect test subject.”

“A test subject?” Song Qingpei suddenly sat bolt upright, a cold shiver racing down her spine.

            

Sensing her tension, Murong Ruixue quickly explained, “Don’t be nervous. It’s not what you think. Teacher only wanted to… continue Former President Rong’s research.”

She hesitated before continuing, “In truth… I’m also one of the test subjects. Teacher told me since I was a child that my genetic compatibility with you is the highest. If we… bonded and had a child, our offspring would have the most perfect genetic sequence.”

Song Qingpei stared at her in sheer astonishment, as if she had just heard some terrible joke.

            

“Don’t worry, that’s all in the past now.” Murong Ruixue suddenly smiled. “I abandoned that absurd idea long ago.”

Despite her reassurance, Song Qingpei still felt a lingering sense of discomfort. She could not help but recall Murong Ruixue’s past flirtatious advances toward her…

The starship suddenly shuddered slightly, and the warning lights began to flash.

            

“An asteroid belt.” Murong Ruixue instantly focused all her attention on piloting. “We’ll have to manually pilot through this area.”

For the next half hour, both of them were fully absorbed in navigation.

Only when the ship had finally stabilized did Song Qingpei snap out of her shock and speak again. “Murong Xia… what exactly is she trying to achieve?”

            

Murong Ruixue’s expression grew solemn. “Teacher wants to complete Former President Rong’s unfinished cause—to create ‘New Humans’ who are not controlled by pheromones. She believes this is the only way to change the Federation’s rigid class stratification.”

“So I am…”

“You are the very first successful case.” Murong Ruixue looked straight into her eyes, her expression complex as she said, “When your mother, Song Zhuohua, was pregnant with you, she underwent genetic modification using the Blue Tree inhibitor. That is also why you are unaffected by pheromones.”

            

Song Qingpei felt a wave of dizziness; this information was simply too shocking.

She had always assumed her pheromone indifference was because she was a low-grade Alpha, never imagining such a reason lay behind it.

Silence descended upon the cabin once more.

            

Song Qingpei stared at the starry sky outside the viewport, her mind filled with countless thoughts. She realized more and more that there were likely many more unknowns waiting for her in the future. From the moment her true identity was unveiled, many things were no longer under her own control.

“Qingpei,” Murong Ruixue suddenly spoke, her voice gentle. “Don’t worry, I won’t cooperate with Teacher to continue this experiment. I brought you to see her so that you would know the truth, not to make you a test subject.”

Song Qingpei turned to look at her and found that the sincerity in her eyes did not seem fake.

            

In this moment, she suddenly understood Murong Ruixue’s internal conflict and struggle.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “But… why are you suddenly helping me like this?”

Murong Ruixue smiled. “Because seeing you and Admiral Ming… made me realize some things.” She smiled bitterly. “I was too obsessed with completing my mission, but I ignored the most important aspect of human nature. Matters of the heart… cannot be forced.”

            

Only then did the unease in Song Qingpei’s heart ease slightly, but the revelation of the New Human Plan still hung over her like a dark shadow.

“How much longer until we arrive?” she asked, her voice slightly dry.

“About three days.” Murong Ruixue adjusted their course. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

            

Song Qingpei nodded, leaning back against her seat and closing her eyes.

Yet, countless images kept flashing across her mind: Ming Yu’s pale face, Song Song’s innocent smile, the mother she had barely any memory of, and the never-before-seen Murong Xia…

Everything was tangled together, weaving a future with no answers.

            

The starship continued to forge ahead into the unknown star region, sailing toward the meeting that would alter the fates of many.

Three days later.

After passing through an asteroid belt, the two of them finally arrived at the Black Kite Secret Base—a grey planet hidden deep within a nebula.

            

Song Qingpei stood before the viewport, her heart racing uncontrollably.

“We’re here,” Murong Ruixue’s voice came from behind. “Teacher is already waiting for you.”

The starship landed on a hidden landing pad on the planet’s surface.

            

When the cabin door opened, a cold wind carrying the scent of rusted metal blew on her face. Song Qingpei instinctively wrapped her coat tighter and followed Murong Ruixue through the long metal corridor.

At the end of the corridor stood a heavy blast-proof door, flanked on both sides by fully armed guards.

Upon seeing Murong Ruixue, they saluted immediately and stepped aside.

            

Behind the door was a spacious, circular hall. Real-time star charts of the various Federation star systems were projected onto the walls, with dozens of staff members busily operating all kinds of equipment.

“This is our command center,” Murong Ruixue explained in a low voice. “Teacher spends most of her time in the medical room. Her physical condition… is not very good.”

Song Qingpei nodded and followed her as she turned down a side corridor.

            

As they went deeper, the temperature around them dropped noticeably, and the air was filled with the smell of disinfectant and medicine.

Finally, they stopped before a translucent medical room door.

“Go on in,” Murong Ruixue gently pushed the door open. “Teacher has been waiting for you for a long time.”

            

The light inside the room was soft, and various medical devices surrounded a hospital bed. A gaunt woman sat leaning against the bed, her long gray hair draped over her shoulders. Though her face was pale, one could still see her past sharp authority.

Most eye-catching of all was that hideous scar on her right cheek, stretching from her brow bone to her jaw.

“Qingpei…” The woman’s voice was weak but clear. “I finally get to see you.”

            

Standing at the door, Song Qingpei suddenly did not know how to react.

This was the founder of the Black Kite—Murong Xia. She was right before her eyes, yet she was just a sick, weak old woman.

“Come closer, let me get a good look at you.” Murong Xia, who was lying in bed, waved, her gaze softening. “You look very much like your mother, and also like Zhuohua, especially these eyes.”

            

Song Qingpei walked over slowly and stopped by the bedside.

Up close, Murong Xia’s condition was worse than she had imagined—the withered back of her hand was covered in needle marks, and there was a noticeable rise and fall of her chest when she breathed. Clearly, her lungs had been severely damaged.

“Aunt Murong,” Song Qingpei tentatively spoke, “Are you alright?”

            

Murong Xia let out a light laugh. “Seeing you… I am very happy. As for my body…” She shook her head. “I can’t hold out for much longer. To be able to see you before I die has already fulfilled a wish.”

The atmosphere was slightly awkward for a moment.

Song Qingpei did not know what to say, so she could only lower her head and keep her eyes cast down.

            

“Do you know about the events of back then?” Murong Xia suddenly asked.

Song Qingpei nodded. “I roughly know some of it. About… my mother.”

“Then do you know why I was so determined to find you?”

            

Song Qingpei hesitated. “Ruixue said… is it some ‘New Human Plan’?”

Murong Xia’s eyes suddenly turned sharp as she looked toward Murong Ruixue at the door. “You told her everything?”

Murong Ruixue lowered her head. “Teacher, I think Qingpei has the right to know the truth.”

            

“Forget it.” Murong Xia sighed and looked back at Song Qingpei. “It is indeed so. You are the first successful case of the research, and the only human who underwent genetic modification using the Blue Tree from the embryonic stage.”

She signaled Murong Ruixue to retrieve a metal box from the safe at the head of the bed.

When opened, inside was a test tube filled with pale blue liquid and a few yellowed documents.

            

“This is the chemical formula for the Blue Tree extract used when your mother was pregnant with you.” Murong Xia gently stroked the test tube. “Back then, Taoyao discovered that the Blue Tree liquid could not only neutralize the influence of pheromones but also strengthen human mental strength. But injections had limited effects on adults; the best way was to start the modification from the embryonic stage.”

Song Qingpei felt a wave of dizziness. “So… I was a test subject?”

“No!” Murong Xia suddenly became excited and coughed violently a few times. “You are our hope! Your mother, Song Zhuohua… she voluntarily participated in this experiment because she believed this was the only way to change the future of the Federation.”

            

With trembling hands, she opened the file, which contained several old photos.

In one of them, a gentle-looking woman was holding a baby, with a rather cold-faced woman standing beside her.

Song Qingpei’s heart leaped violently. She had seen the people in this photo before in the group photo at Marshal Song’s house: the mother she had almost no memory of, her biological mother Song Taoyao, and her mother—Rong Cen.

            

“Qingpei, you are not some low-grade Alpha,” Murong Xia’s voice became firm. “On the contrary, your mental strength far exceeds that of ordinary people. It’s just that this power has always been suppressed, requiring a specific frequency of sound waves to awaken it.”

She pressed the communicator at the head of the bed. “Get the equipment ready.”

In less than five minutes, several technicians pushed a machine in. It looked like a combination of a medical cabin and a neural connection device, with a hemispherical transparent dome on top.

            

“This is the Neural Resonator,” Murong Xia explained. “It can activate the sleeping mental strength in your body. The process might be a bit uncomfortable, but Ruixue will accompany you the entire time.”

Song Qingpei instinctively took a step back. “Wait, I’m not ready yet…”

“Qingpei.” Murong Xia suddenly grabbed her hand, her strength astonishingly large. “The current situation is very bad, and I can’t hold on for much longer. You must take over the Black Kite as quickly as possible and continue your mother’s legacy. Also, help me… rescue Zhuohua.” Speaking of her lover, tears glistened in the depths of her eyes. “Let me see her one last time before I die.”

            

Hearing her mention her aunt, the thought of backing down that Song Qingpei originally had was immediately and forcefully suppressed.

“Okay,” she finally nodded.

For the next three hours, Song Qingpei lay in the Neural Resonator, experiencing an unprecedented mental baptism. Her consciousness seemed to be torn to pieces and then reassembled, and countless unfamiliar memories and scenes flashed back in her mind.

            

At the most painful moment, she almost gave up, but in her daze, she saw Ming Yu’s face.

Those eyes gave her the strength to persevere.

When everything was over, Song Qingpei was drenched in sweat.

            

“It succeeded…” Murong Xia’s voice was full of pleasant surprise. “Qingpei, your mental strength has reached SSS-grade now. This is extremely rare in the entire Federation.”

Song Qingpei slowly sat up. She tried to concentrate her mental strength, finding that it had become exceptionally abundant.

Murong Xia coughed violently, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. “Not much time left… Qingpei, listen well…”

            

She signaled Murong Ruixue to bring a metal box, inside of which were five crystal plates neatly arranged.

“This is the decoder,” Murong Xia explained with difficulty. “They correspond to the five route maps respectively. Only when activated simultaneously can the correct location of the Blue Tree be found…”

Another violent fit of coughing came, and the medical staff hurriedly came forward to inject her with medication.

            

Murong Xia waved her hand to signal them to withdraw.

“Zhan Li’s approval ratings are low right now… Qin Mian, one of the marshals who was reassigned, is highly powerful and ambitious, and has always coveted the presidency…” she said haltingly. “Exploit their conflict… Ally with Qin Mian to deal with Zhan Li… This is our only chance to overthrow Zhan Li…”

Song Qingpei firmly remembered these pieces of information in her heart. “I understand.”

            

Murong Xia suddenly grabbed her hand, her strength astonishingly large. “Promise me… let me see Zhuohua one more time… This is my last wish…”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. The legendary, cold and ruthless leader of the Black Kite was, at this moment, just an ordinary person who longed to see her lover.

“I will definitely rescue my aunt,” Song Qingpei solemnly promised.

            

Murong Xia leaned back against the pillow as if relieved of a heavy burden. “The Black Kite… is handed over to you. I will let… Ruixue assist you… Don’t disappoint me.”

With that, she seemed to have exhausted all her strength, lying almost powerlessly on the bed.

Seeing this, Murong Ruixue quickly stepped forward. “Adoptive Mother, please rest first.”

            

Song Qingpei was not very close with Murong Xia, so she could only chime in awkwardly to persuade her as well. As if she had finished delivering all her instructions, Murong Xia no longer forced herself to hold on, though she still did not forget to remind them.

“Ruixue, as quickly as possible… help Qingpei familiarize herself with everything about the Black Kite.”

“Don’t worry, I understand.”

            

Only then did Murong Xia let the doctors treat her, and the two of them temporarily withdrew.

In the days that followed, with Murong Ruixue’s help, Song Qingpei familiarized herself with the operations of the Black Kite.

This organization was far larger than she had imagined—not only did it have secret strongholds all over the Federation, but it had even penetrated the high levels of the military and the government. The daily high-intensity work left her with almost no time to think about other things.

            

But when it was late at night and everything was quiet, the figures of Ming Yu and Song Song would always float into her mind.

She remembered Ming Yu’s pale face before she left, and her words: “Song Song and I are waiting for you to come back.” She wondered if Song Song would cry…

She couldn’t help but take out the data chip Ming Yu had given her, gently stroking it. However, she couldn’t contact Ming Yu yet to avoid exposing her location.

            

But this pain of separation grew day by day.

On a rainy night, Song Qingpei stood alone on the base’s viewing platform, looking at the pouring rain outside the window.

For a moment, boundless yearning almost swallowed her up.

            

“Thinking of her?” Murong Ruixue’s voice suddenly came from behind.

Song Qingpei quickly composed her expression. “I was just… thinking about the next plan.”

Murong Ruixue smiled understandingly. “It’s okay, I understand.” She handed Song Qingpei a cup of coffee. “Teacher’s condition has worsened… The doctor says she probably won’t survive this month.”

            

Song Qingpei gripped the cup tightly, the steam blurring her vision. “We have to arrange the operation to rescue my aunt as quickly as possible.”

“There’s one thing I’ve always wanted to ask you.” Murong Ruixue hesitated. “If… if in the end you have to choose between Ming Yu and your mission, how will you choose?”

Song Qingpei looked at the rainstorm outside the window, not answering immediately.

            

Raindrops snaked down the reinforced glass, looking exactly like Ming Yu’s tears at parting.

“There won’t be such a choice,” she finally said, her voice firm. “I will definitely… find a way to satisfy both sides².”

No matter how difficult the road ahead was, she would definitely return to Ming Yu and Song Song’s side.

            

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