Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 90
by Little PandaGrand Finale
Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains onto the Bedroom floor. Song Qingpei woke up five minutes before her alarm.
She rolled onto her side, watching Ming Yu, who had unconsciously rested a hand over her slightly rounded abdomen in her sleep. The morning light gilded her thick eyelashes with a golden sheen.
Song Qingpei slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, but she still disturbed Ming Yu, who was a light sleeper.
Ming Yu reached out half-asleep and caught the edge of her shirt, her voice raspy with sleep. “So early…”
“I’m going to make you some porridge,” Song Qingpei said, leaning down to press a kiss to her damp forehead. “Didn’t you say yesterday you wanted sour plum porridge?”
In the Kitchen, Song Qingpei poured the pre-soaked glutinous rice into a clay pot, then added two finely pickled sour plums1.
“What’s Mama making?” Song Song ran into the Kitchen barefoot, clutching the plush rabbit she never let out of her sight.
Song Qingpei dried her hands and squatted down to her daughter’s level. “I’m making some magic porridge for Mommy so the new baby can grow big and strong.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she asked, “Do you want to help Mama put in the secret ingredient?”
Song Song’s eyes lit up. With great solemnity, she dropped a small pinch of dried osmanthus flowers2 into the pot. This had become a little ritual between mother and daughter; whenever Ming Yu’s morning sickness flared up, Song Qingpei would invite the little girl to participate.
As time passed, Ming Yu’s belly became more prominently rounded.
Her pregnancy cravings struck suddenly and unpredictably. In the middle of the night last week, she had suddenly craved charcoal-grilled squid; this week, she was obsessed with rich, sweet cheesecake. Song Qingpei had created a dedicated note on her light-terminal to keep track of Ming Yu’s daily whims and dietary restrictions.
Song Qingpei pulled up the hovercar booking app. “Let’s go. While Song Song is still in dance class, let me indulge the Marshal’s wild side a little.”
Slinking out of their residential estate like students playing hooky, they made their escape. Ming Yu wore a loose jacket altered from her military dress, though it did little to hide her pregnant figure. Inside the bakery, Song Qingpei watched Ming Yu squint her eyes in pure satisfaction. When a bit of cream smudged the corner of her lips, Song Qingpei couldn’t resist reaching out to wipe it away with her thumb.
Ming Yu seized the moment to nip gently at her fingertip, a playful glint in her eyes.
On their way home, Ming Yu suddenly came to a halt. Song Qingpei quickly steadied her, panic rising. “What’s wrong?”
“The baby kicked me,” Ming Yu said, taking her hand and guiding it to the right side of her belly. “Right here. Feel it.”
A faint flutter rippled against her palm. It was just like the first time she had felt Song Song kicking inside her years ago, a sensation that never failed to leave Song Qingpei in awe. “She’s been especially quiet today.”
“She’s saving up her strength,” Ming Yu said, running her fingers through Song Qingpei’s hair. “The doctor did say she could arrive at any moment… Ah!”
At her soft gasp, Song Qingpei looked up immediately.
Ming Yu’s expression shifted from surprise to helpless amusement. “She’s just given me a kick.”
Laughing, Song Qingpei began to guide her toward the restroom, but halfway there, Ming Yu grabbed her wrist. “Qingpei, if… I mean, if things don’t go smoothly during the delivery…”
“There’re no ifs,” Song Qingpei interrupted softly, her fingers gently tracing the faded scar left by Ming Yu’s previous Caesarean section. “I’ll be with you every step of the way this time.”
They pressed their foreheads together, their breathing falling into a synchronized, comforting rhythm.
Having enjoyed a rare, peaceful day together, they timed their departure perfectly to pick up Song Song from her class. The family laughed and chatted over dinner, basking in a rare, warm evening of domestic bliss.
Only when Song Song’s soft, rhythmic breathing drifted from her room did Song Qingpei quietly slip away to return to Ming Yu.
The smart home system had already stabilized the temperature at a comfortable twenty-four degrees Celsius, optimized for pregnant women. Ming Yu was dozing in bed. Seeing Song Qingpei enter, she immediately shifted to make room. As soon as Song Qingpei settled in, Ming Yu nestled familiarly into her embrace and soon drifted back to sleep.
Song Qingpei gazed at her soft, sleeping face with a quiet smile, and she was soon pulled into a deep sleep herself.
At three in the morning, Song Qingpei was startled awake by the sound of rapid, heavy breathing beside her.
Ming Yu was curled on her side, her fingers white as she clutched the sheets, her silk nightgown already drenched in cold sweat.
“Contractions?” Song Qingpei was instantly wide awake, her palm immediately flying to Ming Yu’s hardened, taut abdomen.
Ming Yu nodded, then shook her head. “Maybe… false labor…” Before she could finish the sentence, she sucked in a sharp breath. This wave lasted a full forty seconds.
Song Qingpei quickly activated the home medical scanner. A pale blue holographic display materialised, confirming that the frequency of the contractions had already reached active labor threshold. As she contacted the hospital, she helped Ming Yu change into loose maternity wear, her movements so fluid and practiced they might have been rehearsed countless times.
“Song Song…” Ming Yu gritted her teeth through a wave of pain. “We can’t leave her by herself…”
“Auntie Song will be here in five minutes.” Song Qingpei knelt on one knee to slip shoes onto her feet. When she looked up, she found Ming Yu staring down at her with a rare trace of vulnerability in her eyes.
“Qingpei, I… I’m suddenly a little scared.”
“Don’t overthink it.” Song Qingpei kissed her trembling fingertips, her voice tender. “This time, the only thing you need to focus on is how much I love you.”
Song Zhuohua arrived even sooner than expected.
Just as they were preparing to walk out the door, Song Song emerged in the hallway, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “Is meimei coming?”
Song Qingpei gathered her daughter into her arms, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “By the time the sun rises, you’ll get to meet meimei.”
In the hovercar speeding toward the hospital, Ming Yu’s contractions grew increasingly intense and frequent.
She gripped Song Qingpei’s hand with white-knuckled intensity, her nails digging deep into her palm. Song Qingpei did not flinch, repeatedly kissing her sweat-slicked temples while softly whispering steadying words of encouragement.
Under the glaring surgical lights of the delivery room, Ming Yu’s strained groans mingled with the rhythmic hum of the medical monitors.
Song Qingpei stood unyielding beside the delivery bed, serving as her sole anchor.
Tears pooled in Ming Yu’s eyes from the sheer physical toll, yet her gaze remained piercingly clear as she looked at Song Qingpei. Their fingers locked. With one final, heart-wrenching cry, a baby’s loud wail pierced the dawn.
“Congratulations, it’s a healthy baby girl!”
“It’s alright now, our daughter is here,” Song Qingpei murmured, resting her lips against Ming Yu’s damp forehead.
Ming Yu gave a weak nod, her newborn daughter already wrapping tiny, instinctive fingers around a lock of her hair.
Outside the window, the morning sun illuminated the excited face of Song Song, who had rushed over, and the plush rabbit she held tightly in her hand, ready to give to her meimei.
Inside the delivery room, the climate control system kept the air perfectly tempered. Song Qingpei stood by the stargazing window with their newborn daughter cradled in her arms. Under the ambient starlight, the baby’s wrinkled little face flushed with a soft, warm pink.
“She’s like a little star,” Song Qingpei whispered, carefully touching the baby’s cheek with her fingertip. The child squirmed in her arms, letting out a soft, kitten-like whimper.
Ming Yu leaned back against the headboard, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead with a weak smile. “Then let’s call her Xingyao. May she shine as brightly as a distant star.”
A moment later, a round, chubby little face peeked through the door.
Song Song clutched her beloved plush rabbit, her eyes wide with wonder. “Mommy, Mama, can I see meimei now?”
Song Qingpei knelt down so her eldest daughter could get a closer look at the swaddled bundle. “Gently, meimei is sleeping.”
Song Song tiptoed closer until her nose was almost touching the baby’s face. Right then, Xingyao fluttered her eyes open, her dark, glossy pupils reflecting her jiejie’s curious face.
“Her eyes look just like Mama’s!” Song Song squealed in a hushed, excited whisper, then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. “Was I too loud?”
Ming Yu gestured with a smile for her eldest daughter to come closer, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the crown of her head. “Our Song Song is so sensible.”
Song Qingpei gently settled Xingyao into Ming Yu’s arms before wrapping herself around the three of them from behind. When Song Song reached out a curious hand to poke meimei’s cheek, Song Qingpei caught her wrist gently. “You have to stroke her gently, like this.”
Ming Yu looked up at them with a soft laugh, her eyes holding the tenderness of an entire galaxy.
Since the delivery had gone so smoothly, Ming Yu was discharged after just two days. From then on, they officially embarked on the chaotic, trial-and-error journey of raising two children.
Within a month, they slowly reclaimed the skills they had used to raise Song Song, gradually becoming proficient once more.
When night fell, the smart monitor in the Children’s Room indicated that both daughters were fast asleep.
Song Song lay curled beneath her starry duvet, clutching her plush rabbit, while Xingyao slept soundly in her crib, sucking her thumb and making occasional soft, snuffling noises.
Song Qingpei slipped the door shut. The moment she turned around, a warm body pressed her firmly against the hallway wall.
Ming Yu’s breath brushed against her face, her remarkably well-recovered body pressing tight against her. Her pheromones carried a faint, sweet trace of milk, an intoxicatingly sweet aroma that sent Song Qingpei’s thoughts spinning.
“It’s been a month…” Ming Yu murmured, her lips skimming Song Qingpei’s earlobe, her voice incredibly husky. “The doctor said we can after a month…”
Song Qingpei’s hands instinctively found her lover’s waist, which still retained the soft curve from her pregnancy.
She deliberately feigned a serious expression. “Is the Lord Marshal in such a rush?”
Ming Yu answered by nipping directly at her collarbone.
“You know very well…” Ming Yu’s warm breath fanned against her neck, accompanied by a petulant, mock-glare.
With a sudden, swift movement, Song Qingpei reversed their positions.
She pinned Ming Yu against the wall, her fingers threading through her soft, loose hair. “Me too. I’ve really missed… you.”
She claimed her lips in a deep, unyielding kiss. Ming Yu quickly fought for dominance, her tongue parting Song Qingpei’s lips, greedily drinking in her warmth.
Their robes pooled silently around their ankles.
Song Qingpei’s palm slid down Ming Yu’s spine, coming to rest gently on her lower abdomen. “Does it still hurt?” she murmured.
Ming Yu shook her head. As Song Qingpei leaned down, her fingers tracing the scorching, tender skin, Ming Yu tilted her head back, gasping as she threw her head back.
“Shh…” Song Qingpei leaned in, her lips brushing her ear. “Don’t wake our daughters…”
Ming Yu’s hands clenched and unclenched. Their pheromones surged, dense and heavy, intertwining in the narrow hallway.
They stumbled blindly into the master Bedroom, collapsing onto the unmade bed.
When Song Qingpei’s hands slid beneath her silk nightgown, Ming Yu’s hips arched instinctively toward her touch, a broken whimper slipping from her throat.
“Beg me,” Song Qingpei whispered, deliberately slowing her movements to a torturous crawl.
Ming Yu’s eyes pooled with moisture. Her postpartum body was raw, sensitive, and far more responsive than usual.
She shifted restlessly beneath her, her gaze a mixture of petulance and burning desire. “You…”
This call shattered all of Song Qingpei’s control. She pressed deep into her, drawing a sharp, high-pitched cry from Ming Yu.
“Keep it down…” Song Qingpei whispered, nipping her earlobe. “Or is the Lord Marshal trying to let everyone hear on purpose?”
Ming Yu shot her a mortified glare, but her pupils quickly lost focus from the impact.
In the quiet aftermath, Ming Yu lay limp against the sheets, her chest rising and falling rapidly, tears of exhaustion clinging to her eyelashes. Song Qingpei ran her fingers tenderly through her damp, dark hair.
“I love you,” Song Qingpei whispered in her ear, her voice as soft as a falling feather.
Ming Yu nuzzled deeper into the hollow of her neck, her reply a faint, possessive murmur: “Forever…”
Footnotes
- Suānméi (酸梅) are pickled, salted plums widely enjoyed in East Asia. Known for their intensely sour and salty taste, they are a popular folk remedy for alleviating nausea and morning sickness during pregnancy.
- Dried osmanthus (guìhuā, 桂花) flowers are a common culinary addition in China, prized for their sweet, apricot-like floral aroma. They are frequently used to infuse teas, porridges, and desserts.
0 Comments