Chapter 11: Jiang Yunzhao

Sang Ling lay on the ground, ignoring the searing pain in her chest, staring fixedly at Jiang Yunzhao.

“You dyed your hair.”

That was what she said.

Jiang Yunzhao’s stride halted. “That’s the first thing you say to me? Unbelievable.”

Sang Ling nodded. “It used to be black.”

She was so utterly matter-of-fact that Jiang Yunzhao didn’t know whether to be angry or to laugh.

“You just tanked two Zerg bare-handed, without an Exoskeleton—a record that would get you straight into Military Headquarters for field training. You protected President Su Qingyue, the richest person on Capital Star. You have at least three cracked ribs right now. And with all of that, you’re certain the first thing you want to say is: you dyed your hair?”

Sang Ling showed not a trace of remorse. She said, earnest, “It looks great. Red suits you.”

Jiang Yunzhao was genuinely laughed into exasperation. She had no idea how Sang Ling’s brain was wired.

True, she had mocked Sang Ling at first—but that was simply Jiang Yunzhao’s nature. In fact she understood perfectly well that without an Exoskeleton Mecha, managing to protect someone while pinned between two Zerg, and killing one of them besides, was already a remarkable feat.

Even she, trained since childhood in both the martial arts and the military, wouldn’t dare claim she could have done better.

At a moment like this, any Alpha should know the script.

Sang Ling should report the battle to her, display her capability, then hope Jiang Yunzhao would think well of her and recruit her into her Special Assault Squad—after which her rise would be smooth and swift.

Not stand there complimenting her hair!

Jiang Yunzhao took the scabbard at her waist, sheathed the blade, then pressed the tip of the sheath against Sang Ling’s chest. The expensive, hand-painted patterns on the rosewood scabbard formed a stark contrast with Sang Ling’s plain white uniform.

“I’ll give you one chance. Rephrase. If it satisfies me, I’ll take you into my Special Assault Squad.”

But Sang Ling genuinely had no idea what she’d said wrong. She’d just complimented someone’s hair—and out of deference to her creditor, no less.

Since when did the Eldest Miss Jiang get angry over this too?

The bewilderment on her face was so plain that even Jiang Yunzhao felt deflated.

The scabbard tapped Sang Ling’s chest. Jiang Yunzhao cursed, “Idiot.”

“Fine. One question.” She looked thoroughly irritated, yet her voice quietly dropped, a little awkward: “Does it really look good?”

Sang Ling nodded frantically. Please—forget that the hair genuinely did look good; this was her creditor. Whatever color her creditor dyed her hair, it looked good.

Jiang Yunzhao was satisfied and promptly regained her haughty air. “Last question. Are you joining my Special Assault Squad? You must answer yes.”

Sang Ling: ……

You’ve already decided my path for me—why even ask!

But under Jiang Yunzhao’s pressure, she still squeezed one word out through her teeth: “Yes.”

Jiang Yunzhao finally, satisfied, put the blade away. Sang Ling struggled up off the ground; the Eldest Miss Jiang, in her white gloves, showed not the slightest intention of offering a hand.

A hand suddenly reached in from the side.

Sang Ling looked up. It was Su Qingyue.

After the chaos, Su Qingyue’s hair had come loose and her exquisite suit dress was no longer immaculate—yet her bearing remained composed and cool, still every inch nobility. Like a dethroned monarch who knew full well she would soon return to her throne.

Sang Ling rose with the help of Su Qingyue’s hand and said, “Thank you.”

Su Qingyue nodded, tapped the Wristwatch Light Brain on her wrist, and without many words gestured for Sang Ling to extend her hand.

Sang Ling wore a Wristwatch Light Brain too. In the interstellar era, these convenient wrist devices were near-universal; though not as full-featured as the larger Light Brains, simple payment and voice calls worked perfectly well.

Su Qingyue curled her palm and touched her wrist to Sang Ling’s. Light Brain met Light Brain with a soft chime.

“You have received a transfer of 2,000,000.”

Sang Ling’s eyes flew wide as she stared at Su Qingyue.

The Beta calmly straightened her clothes, as if what she had just sent over were not two million but two yuan.

“What you earned by protecting me.”

She said evenly: “The Special Assault Squad fields the Federation’s most elite soldiers—and its death rate is the highest in the entire military, sixty-three percent. Major Jiang’s squad’s death rate is a staggering seventy percent. You’re only a second-year. It’s far too dangerous there. Don’t take Major Jiang’s joke seriously.”

Su Qingyue clearly knew Jiang Yunzhao, and clearly did not endorse her proposal to send Sang Ling to the Special Assault Squad. She laid out the drawbacks point by point, as if entirely for Sang Ling’s own good, dismissing Jiang Yunzhao’s words as a joke.

How could Jiang Yunzhao allow anyone to talk back? “When did I ever joke? She tanked two Zerg without an Exoskeleton. Even if I don’t take her, Military Headquarters will assign her to some Special Assault Squad or other. Where else would she go? Don’t forget—universal Alpha conscription.”

Su Qingyue had prepared for this. “As the military’s largest partner, the Su Family does hold a few privileges too minor to mention. One of them: we may designate any officer below field-grade rank to protect the head of the Su Family.”

“When she enters the military, she comes straight to my side. Problem solved?”

Jiang Yunzhao sneered, “Do you even hear yourself? You’re proposing that an Alpha throw away her dignity and live off you.”

Su Qingyue: “Watch your words, Major Jiang. Is protecting a Beta called living off someone? The Third Amendment establishes that Betas and Alphas are equal.”

Jiang Yunzhao was sick of Su Qingyue’s officialese. “I’m her creditor. Until she’s repaid me, of course she follows my orders. Perfectly natural. What business is it of yours?”

The words were barely out when Jiang Yunzhao realized her slip and clicked her tongue.

Sure enough, Su Qingyue turned straight to Sang Ling. “How much do you owe her?”

Sang Ling, still dazed from watching these two titans spar, answered on reflex, “Five million.”

Su Qingyue stepped across, closing in at Sang Ling’s side, hands dropping naturally—and their wrists touched again, another soft chime.

“You have received a transfer of 5,000,000.”

The mechanical female voice rang out, jolting Sang Ling wide awake.

“No—this one I really can’t take!” Sang Ling waved her hands frantically.

That debt wasn’t hers. She had taken over the original host’s identity; repaying it in her stead was only right.

But what kind of person let someone else pay off her debts?

It wasn’t just strange—it struck Sang Ling as inexplicably dangerous.

Su Qingyue looked shrewd, the type who never took a loss in business. If she was willing to spend five million on Sang Ling, then Sang Ling had to possess something worth more than five million.

Sang Ling seized Su Qingyue’s hand firmly and transferred the money straight back. To keep them from falling into an endless loop of bouncing money back and forth, she released her at once and stepped over to Jiang Yunzhao’s side.

She’d rather go kill Zerg for the military, thanks. Selling her labor felt far safer than being bought with five million of President Su’s favor.

Seeing this, Jiang Yunzhao immediately looked smug. “Not entirely stupid, then.”

The Eldest Miss strapped the Tang Dao back at her waist, brimming with a victor’s arrogance. “You see that, CEO Su? Her ambitions run a good deal larger than being your personal bodyguard.”

Su Qingyue didn’t take offense. She looked at Sang Ling calmly. “You don’t want money, then. Is there anything else you want? I can get you anything. The Su Family lacks for nothing.”

“Stop flexing your wealth.” Jiang Yunzhao cut her off. “You capitalists and your ugly mugs, same as ever.”

The Jiang Family was of course wealthy too—Jiang Yunzhao had been raised in silk and gold—but there was still a distance between them and the Su Family, whose entire empire was built on economics.

Jiang Yunzhao was about to trade another round with Su Qingyue when she felt a tug at her sleeve. It was Sang Ling, her knuckles white, clutching her fabric with all her strength.

The female Alpha who hadn’t so much as blinked facing two Zerg, who hadn’t cried out even with three cracked ribs, was now deathly pale, one hand fisted in Jiang Yunzhao’s sleeve, staring down at the Wristwatch Light Brain on her other hand. Two messages glowed on it.

The sender was Lin Jinxu.

The first message read: “Today I brought Little Yao back to the kindergarten to re-enroll. Thank you—we can finally pay the tuition again. The kindergarten is very close to the First Commercial District. We saw you. Would you like to come walk Little Yao to school with us?”

Perhaps because Sang Ling hadn’t replied for so long, the other side had waited a few minutes and sent another message, the tone anxious:

“Sorry, that last message must have bothered you. I’ve already taken Little Yao into the kindergarten. You needn’t come. I hope you have a lovely day.”

Jiang Yunzhao felt the name Lin Jinxu was somehow familiar, yet no matter how she searched, she couldn’t place where she’d heard it.

But the hand gripping her sleeve only tightened, and when Sang Ling spoke, there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation.

“Lend it to me.”

“What?”

“Your Tang Dao. Lend it to me.”

Sang Ling lifted her eyes, the emotion in them unreadable. “My family is nearby. I’m going to find them.”