Chapter 27: Sang Ling

The room was dim.

Sang Ling stood with her back straight as a tree, feeling the weight of the woman clinging to her, and looked down.

Since their last meeting, Su Qingyue’s hair seemed to have grown a little, and had been curled.

She’d sprayed on some perfume—faint, elegant, like a flower Sang Ling couldn’t name. Even the strands of her hair carried the scent.

Su Qingyue seemed unable to hold herself up; her hands rested on Sang Ling’s shoulders, both bare white feet planted on top of Sang Ling’s boots, her whole body soft as boneless, clinging entirely to her.

She lifted her wrist slightly and hooked it around the back of Sang Ling’s neck.

The sensation of her gland being touched through the Suppressant Patch made the Alpha’s brow crease faintly.

Su Qingyue used that leverage to press close, her neck brushing Sang Ling’s.

The perfume’s stronger here, Sang Ling thought.

There were two spots people usually recommended for perfume: the wrists, and the side of the neck—both home to steady, pulsing arteries that would broadcast the scent in rhythm with the heartbeat.

So Su Qingyue must have sprayed it on her neck.

Her thoughts drifted aimlessly while her body stayed motionless, like a sculpture carved in some ancient age.

Su Qingyue’s bare feet, gleaming white atop Sang Ling’s polished black military boots, made a stark contrast. Rising onto her toes, she moved in for a kiss.

Sang Ling tilted her head slightly, dodging it.

Su Qingyue didn’t take offense. One hand still hooked behind her neck, the other reached around front and pressed lightly against Sang Ling’s shirt, buttoned to the very top.

Her fingertip tapped once, then began deftly working the buttons. One. Two…

When her jade-smooth fingers landed on Sang Ling’s collarbone, the silent Alpha finally reacted, catching the wandering hand.

“Your fingers are so cold.”

Su Qingyue leaned against the Alpha’s shoulder and laughed, her fluffy hair trembling with it. “Then what should I do about that?”

“I hear you Alphas all run warm.”

Sang Ling looked down at her. The woman’s eyes were bright with moisture, like a lake surface reflecting stars. She smiled faintly. “True, my temperature is high.”

“But what does that have to do with me? If you’re cold, put on clothes.”

Sang Ling’s face changed in an instant, one breath from cursing. She flung an arm around Su Qingyue’s waist, hoisted her like an oversized plush toy, and carried her toward the bedroom in that position.

“No clothes, and you’ll have a cold by tomorrow.”

She deposited Su Qingyue on the edge of the bed. Finding nothing suitable to wear, she pulled out a blanket, spread it over the mattress, tugged Su Qingyue over, pushed her shoulders down to make her lie back, and began wrapping her up in the blanket.

A fold on the left, a fold on the right, the bottom flipped up—she swaddled Su Qingyue as tight as a burrito, until the legs that had been bared not a minute ago showed not one inch of skin.

Sang Ling clapped her hands in satisfaction. “You make a very beautiful burrito.”

She said proudly, “Incidentally, this is the exact technique obstetrics uses to swaddle newborns. I observed it the other day—I learned it very well.”

Su Qingyue stared blankly for a beat, then shook with laughter, her hair fanning out across the bed.

“I’ve never met an Alpha with so little romance in her.”

Sang Ling curled her lip. “And I’ve never met a Beta so desperately in need of spiritual cleansing and so hungry as a she-wolf.”

“The first?” Su Qingyue arched a brow. “Funny, I seem to recall you have an Omega at home.”

“What’s that got to do with you?”

Su Qingyue looked even more surprised. Though she smoothed her expression quickly, she still murmured, “You really haven’t noticed? She hides it well.”

“What did you say?” Sang Ling hadn’t caught it.

“Nothing.” CEO Su recovered her shamelessness at once. “What’s it to me? I paid for these dates.”

“You did pay. But what we agreed on was that I’d play Chu Zhou, your virtual Dating AI, on these dates. Wasn’t her character setting a Major General?”

“How come I don’t remember her backstory including a stint as a doctor?”

Back then, to play Chu Zhou properly, Sang Ling had gone online to research the character and even played the game herself for a while.

“You didn’t spend enough, so of course you couldn’t unlock all the content,” Su Qingyue said, utterly unblinking.

“But I’ve read other players’ compiled guides. There was no such setting.”

“That’s because it’s easter-egg content unlocked only by the very biggest spenders.” Su Qingyue said lightly. “Or are you doubting the depth of my wealth?”

As if she dared. President Su had the superpower of being rich.

Sang Ling didn’t much care whether it was true or not. She shrugged. “I’m on night shift tonight. A patient might call me at any hour. I don’t have time to play this game with you.”

“That’s fine. I have plenty of time. Think these next couple of days about how you’ll court me. We’ll take it slow.“

Though she lay back against the pillows, Su Qingyue’s face was that of a general certain of victory.

Sang Ling clicked her tongue. “You’re giving me a strange feeling. That’s not how you were last time we met.”

She’d been far more reserved before—nothing like this, dressed half-bare and ready to start something the moment she walked in.

The strangeness frightened her, too.

“Last time, your presence had me pinned so flat I couldn’t lift my head. I had to change my approach to regain the upper hand.”

Su Qingyue’s lips curved. “Besides, what’s wrong with a little honesty? You and I have a contract between us now.”

She sighed softly. This elite president, who had commanded the business world for years, gazed at the far-too-young Alpha and said, smiling: “Little sister, I’m already twenty-eight.”

Sang Ling knew this was no empty lament about age. It carried some other emotion she couldn’t yet decipher.

She couldn’t decipher it, but instinct told her it boded ill, and she changed the subject. “Does this date need styling and hair too? What a hassle.”

Su Qingyue paused, then said anyway, “Of course. Don’t forget—you’re being paid to date Chu Zhou, not me.”

An inexplicable warning.

Sang Ling nodded to show she understood, then pointed at the door. “Then you can leave now. I’m going to sleep.”

Su Qingyue’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re making me leave now? Not only are you throwing me out, you’re throwing me out of the lounge in my own hospital.”

“Yep. I never planned to let you stay the night,” Sang Ling said mercilessly.

She waved a hand. “Bye-bye now. Don’t disturb my rest.”

“Pfft.”

The Orchid Mantis was mid-sip of tea and burst out laughing, nearly spraying water everywhere.

“So you’re telling me you went to the hospital to kill someone, and discovered that the little Alpha at your home is the very person guarding your mission target?”

Lin Jinxu slowly poured tea from the pot into a ceramic cup, the leaves rising and sinking. She shot the Orchid Mantis a cold glance, and only then did the other rein in her laughter.

“The heat was too intense that day. I didn’t go back to the hospital for the things I left behind.”

Lin Jinxu wore loose-sleeved clothing; to keep the tea from splashing her, she lightly pushed up her cuffs and raised her cup. “But by the next day, when I did go back, all of it had vanished.”

The Orchid Mantis tried to comfort her. “Maybe a cleaner just collected it. You can see for yourself—no one’s come to arrest you, have they?”

Lin Jinxu took a sip of the fragrant tea and let a soft sigh escape her lips. She didn’t believe a cleaner had taken it—but she didn’t dare probe the other possibilities, either.

“So what now? Are you still going through with the mission? I told you long ago—just trick a Marking out of your little Alpha and you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Lin Jinxu set down her cup.

“I don’t want to deceive her. Even when there’s no other way, I’d rather deceive her as little as possible.”

“The mission, of course, continues.”

The beautiful Omega’s face was grave now. “But it can’t be done in a day. There’s no rushing it. We need to plan for the long term.”

“First, find out the situation at the hospital.”

The Orchid Mantis said, “Ask who, exactly?”

Lin Jinxu raised her light brain, not a trace of a smile on her face, and typed a message to Sang Ling.

“Younger sister, how are your shifts scheduled? I’ll come see you.”

She was trying to fish out Sang Ling’s duty roster.

The message sent, Lin Jinxu waited patiently. A dozen-odd minutes later, a single terse reply came back.

“Don’t come to the hospital to see me.”

Utterly cold, the refusal clean and decisive.

It couldn’t be called unfriendly—this was simply how Sang Ling had always texted her. Yet for some reason, Lin Jinxu’s chest tightened.

The Orchid Mantis leaned over her shoulder to look, clucking strangely, pointing a finger at the two messages Lin Jinxu had sent Sang Ling before.

“She was worried about you, and that’s how you replied? No wonder the warm, friendly little Alpha has gone cold on you.”

Lin Jinxu bristled. “Don’t you have anything better to do all day than loiter around me?”

The Orchid Mantis said, “At present, watching drama is my proper occupation.”

Human and Zerg were still trading barbs when a second message arrived—the Alpha apparently realizing she’d been too cold, adding a follow-up.

“Thank you for your concern. But there’s no need.”

“Tsk tsk tsk tsk.” The Orchid Mantis clucked in admiration. “What a polite little Alpha. Let me tell you, under your Federation’s Alpha-chauvinist education, a courteous, considerate Alpha like this is rare—one in ten thousand wouldn’t be an exaggeration.”

The Orchid Mantis’s true form was pink and white; her skin was luminously pale, and now it flushed a faint pink as she said, half-dreaming, “Think about it—she made Task Force Reservist while still a sophomore. She’s the elite of the future elite, the kind with limitless prospects.”

“And she’s so good to you. She’d believe any nonsense out of your mouth. You could play her like a fiddle.”

“And the most, most, most important thing—she’s only nineteen. Wow, so fresh you could squeeze water from her. That vitality, that beauty—even as a Zerg I can see how gorgeous she is, how many young hearts she’ll harvest.”

“Are you sure you still want to do the mission? Why not just seduce her, marry her, and live happily ever after as a domesticated Omega wife?”

Lin Jinxu gave her a cool look. “Do you want me to seduce her, or do you want to seduce her yourself?”

“Say no more. I won’t abandon the mission, and I won’t abandon what I’ve always pursued.”

She brewed another cup of tea and lowered her eyes, long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

She would keep doing what she had to do.

When the time came, at worst she would spare Sang Ling’s life and keep her by her side. That was all.

“I’ll still go to the hospital tomorrow.”