Chapter 32: An Alpha

Dawn light, faint, slipped through the gap in the curtains in a single thin stripe of white, falling across Jiang Yunzhao’s finely-cut face.

“Water…”

she mumbled, half in dream.

After losing so much blood, she was always desperately thirsty—her body needed water to make more.

A figure came to the bedside, took the cup from the nightstand, filled it with warm water, fitted in a straw, and held it to her lips.

Jiang Yunzhao drank through the straw for a long while, finally quenched—and only then realized something was wrong. Her eyes flew open. “Who—!”

Her fist cut the air like wind, only to be caught lightly by another hand and, with the effortless leverage of four ounces deflecting a thousand pounds, tucked back under the covers.

“Drink my water, then turn on me?”

“Where was all this vigilance while you were drinking?”

It was Sang Ling.

Jiang Yunzhao registered this, relaxed, burrowed back under the covers, and lounged there shamelessly, watching Sang Ling already dressed in shirt and trousers despite the early hour.

She lay limp, strengthless, sleeping in Sang Ling’s blankets, feeling comfortable—and, more than that, feeling safe.

That was the most astonishing part: she had slept clear through to dawn without stirring, never even noticing Sang Ling slip out.

She didn’t always feel safe even in her own bed.

Jiang Yunzhao yawned and credited the feeling to Sang Ling’s inhuman combat power.

If a dragon carried you off to her lair, had you sleep on her hide, and sheltered you beneath her wings, you’d feel safe too.

She watched Sang Ling standing before the wardrobe mirror, holding up two ties and comparing them.

“What’s all this primping for? Showing off for your patients?”

“I have a date today.” Sang Ling didn’t turn around.

“What?!“

Jiang Yunzhao shot upright, the covers sliding off her shoulders. “You haven’t even had your Susceptibility Period—what date are you going on?”

“How old even are you? I don’t permit it.”

Sang Ling turned around, ties still in hand. “Let me remind you: you’re a month and a half younger than I am.”

“That’s not the same thing! I’ve had my Susceptibility Period. I’m a fully mature Alpha. You’re not.“

Sang Ling refused to argue. “Which of these two ties is better? Or should I just wear a tie clip today?”

“First of all, these days, outside of weddings, only waitstaff wear tie clips.”

Jiang Yunzhao said, “Second, a tie is chosen to match the jacket.”

“I happened to order a new jacket after work yesterday. It was expensive.“

Sang Ling picked up the garment she’d just bought: a pure-black women’s suit jacket, peak lapel, single button, gleaming with the luster of fine fabric.

Jiang Yunzhao tilted her head. “Too severe. You’re going on a date, not to court. Leave the jacket unbuttoned, and undo the shirt.”

Sang Ling put on the jacket and hesitantly undid one shirt button.

“How old are you? Undo more—at least three!”

In the end, Sang Ling undid exactly two.

Jiang Yunzhao looked at the Opal Necklace at her throat, now half-hidden, half-revealed beneath the shirt, and gave a strange little laugh. She allowed it.

“But I still feel like something’s off.”

Sang Ling studied herself in the full-length mirror.

“Don’t wear a white shirt. What are you, waitstaff? Go change into a black one. And take the dark-red tie.”

As the Jiang Family Young Heir, raised from birth in silk and jade, Jiang Yunzhao’s money-polished taste was something Sang Ling never doubted.

She walked to the wardrobe, stripped off her shirt—wearing only a white sports bra above the waist—and rummaged for a black one.

Jiang Yunzhao leaned against the nightstand, facing Sang Ling’s back precisely, and narrowed her eyes.

The black-haired young Alpha looked very slender while dressing. Only with her shirt off, from behind, could one see the faint rise of muscle along her back—and understand that her strength was not to be underestimated. Like a leopard just come of age.

Jiang Yunzhao watched for a while, and noticed that once Sang Ling had changed into the black shirt, even tying the tie left her fumbling.

That face, reasonably clever when expressionless, had gone blank again with bewilderment.

Jiang Yunzhao could only sigh, hop off the bed, and haul Sang Ling over by the tie at her collar.

She pulled her in close; the black-haired Alpha ducked her head to watch her fingers, and their foreheads nearly touched.

“You’re going on a date. Today’s theme is casual, so don’t knot the tie so high. Understood?”

All Sang Ling saw was Jiang Yunzhao’s slender fingers flashing up and down, and the tie was finished as if by magic.

She hadn’t yet learned to tie one. At Jiang Yunzhao’s words she could only nod along, mm, mm.

She turned to face the mirror and looked herself over, finding the effect casual and dashing—the very image of the stereotype of a young thing heading out on a date.

Sang Ling was delighted. She preened, turning left and right, thoroughly convinced she looked exceptionally beautiful, exceptionally cool.

Watching her, Jiang Yunzhao said sourly, “Must be nice, getting to go out on a date.”

Sang Ling turned. “It is!”

Su Family Ancestral Mansion.

The near-silent hum of the noise-canceling hairdryer stopped.

The stylist said softly, “Miss Su, your hair is finished.”

Su Qingyue had been resting with her eyes closed on the recliner. At the words she opened them, rose, and stood before the mirror, examining herself from every angle.

Behind her, the stylist and her three or four assistants didn’t dare breathe.

This was already the third hairstyle of the morning. Su Qingyue had rejected the first two, demanding perfection.

The third had been the stylist’s stroke of inspiration: she had secretly asked the Old Butler what Miss Su was going out to do today, and on learning it was a date, designed this style.

Where one of the first two had been too severe and the other too ornate, this half-up princess style looked natural—perfect for a date.

Su Qingyue stood before the mirror a long while. Just as the stylist’s despair crested and she began preparing a fourth style, Su Qingyue finally deigned to speak:

“It’ll do.”

The Old Butler, waiting at the door of the styling room, couldn’t help smiling herself. She said, “Miss, the garments you ordered have been delivered to the dressing room.”

“Then let’s go.”

Su Qingyue’s chin lifted, bound and determined to choose the single dress most perfect for a date.

Nearly an hour later, Su Qingyue finally set out, boarding the car with the faintest smile at the corners of her eyes.

The driver waiting in front said, “Miss, you’re in a good mood today.”

Su Qingyue neither confirmed nor denied it. She took out her light brain and found that half an hour ago, Sang Ling had sent her a message.

The black-haired Alpha’s profile picture had been changed to silver-haired, long-haired Chu Zhou, and her manner of speaking had turned gentle in Chu Zhou’s style.

“First Avenue, Star Sky Amusement Park. I’ll buy the ice cream and wait for you. No rush—travel safely.”

Su Qingyue’s face bloomed into a smile, her eyes full of anticipation.

“Star Sky Amusement Park. Drive faster.”

Half an hour earlier.

“I’m heading out!”

Sang Ling had her backpack slung over one shoulder, head down as she finished sending Su Qingyue the address, changing into her shoes at the door, the very picture of a student, saying goodbye to Jiang Yunzhao.

Jiang Yunzhao had long since made herself at home here, and waved grandly. “Bye-bye. Bring me back a packed meal tonight. No Nutrient Solution.”

Sang Ling shrugged and left. She’d already booked a flying car taxi on her light brain.

Standing at the hospital entrance waiting, she exchanged greetings with a few doctors who recognized her, smiling in return.

The sunlight was perfect, brightening everything it touched.

Before leaving, Sang Ling had checked Li Zhi’s vital signs—stable—so she wasn’t worried, and her mood was light.

Until a call came through.

She answered. “Hello, Doctor Cheng? Is something wrong? I’m off today—I’m going out on a date.”

“Have someone else handle it.”

But what came through the line was the last thing Sang Ling expected: “My work badge is gone.”

Doctor Cheng went on: “You told me before that if my badge ever went missing, I was to notify you immediately. And I’m quite certain I didn’t lose it through carelessness. It was stolen from me at some point.”

Yes.

Sang Ling had deliberately let Doctor Cheng use her own badge to open Li Zhi’s door—precisely so that whoever watched from the dark would believe Doctor Cheng’s badge held access too.

Now Doctor Cheng’s badge was gone, which could only mean one thing.

Those people had made their move.

Sang Ling raised her eyes. Not far away, a white flying car taxi was gliding toward her—the plate matched her booking.

That car was supposed to carry her to her date with Su Qingyue.

But Sang Ling only glanced at it once before whirling and sprinting for the ninth-floor Intensive Care Unit.

The hospital wasn’t short of people today. Sang Ling tore through the corridors, shoving past any number of them, until she burst onto the ninth-floor station.

She checked Li Zhi’s door first. Naturally it was locked—the people had taken Doctor Cheng’s badge.

Even so, Sang Ling quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Through the transparent door she could see the monitors: Li Zhi’s vital signs steady, brainwaves active.

She came to the station and found that today, too, a discharged patient had sent twenty-odd cups of coffee.

She gave them only a glance, paying them no mind, and asked the head nurse still at the station, “Did you see anyone strange just now?”

The head nurse shook her head. No.

The words had barely left her mouth when Sang Ling’s sharp ears caught an odd sound from the stairwell at the far end of the corridor.

This was the ninth floor, with the elevator right there. Who would use a stairwell this remote?

Sang Ling’s heart sank.

She took the pack off her shoulder, unzipped it—and there lay the retractable Tang Dao, Cloud Piercer, that belonged to Jiang Yunzhao.

She carried the pack, not yet drawing Cloud Piercer, and moved lightly and slowly toward that remote stairwell.

There was a door at the stairwell entrance. Sang Ling gripped the handle and drew a silent breath.

Inside the stairwell.

The Orchid Mantis was on the light brain with Lin Jinxu, voice low and urgent. “We’ve been tricked!”

“That doctor’s badge doesn’t unlock the room at all!”

In the hotel across from the hospital, Lin Jinxu stood at a window, watching the hospital’s ninth floor from afar—and her breath suddenly caught.

Then her pupils blew wide.

“RUN!”

Before the word had finished leaving her mouth, a tremendous crash came through the earpiece, as if something had slammed into the Orchid Mantis’s light brain.

The light brain fell heavily, bounced twice on the ground, and came to rest before a pair of white sneakers.

The newcomer set her right foot on it and ground down, twice, hard.

The light brain shattered.

In Lin Jinxu’s ear, shrill static. She involuntarily pulled her own light brain away, her face grave.

The Orchid Mantis had just been slammed bodily into the wall. Now she rose slowly against it, her eyes full of terror.

Facing her stood the schoolgirl-ish black-haired Alpha, tall and poised, a great Tang Dao—Cloud Piercer—in her hand, head tilted slightly. In her faint smile and her eyes there was killing intent, rolling off her in waves.

“Well, well. Orchid Mantis.”

Sang Ling’s lips curved. “An old friend.”

The Orchid Mantis felt her back was about to snap in two.

Lin Jinxu’s Alpha… really doesn’t pull her punches.

But fortunately, she had come prepared today.

The pink-and-white Orchid Mantis smiled—and the human lips split instantly into the mouthparts of a Zerg.

“Today I’d like to introduce you to a new friend.”

Sang Ling felt a flash of dread at that smile and rolled aside on pure instinct.

Boom.

When she came up, she found a deep gash carved into the floor, still smoking.

Opposite her, a High-Tier Zerg with a human upper body and a scorpion’s tail below was slowly folding away its massive pincers.

Across the black, oiled sheen of those pincers, green venom glimmered.

Cold sweat broke out across Sang Ling’s back in an instant.

First Avenue. The sun was perfect, the crowds thick. The Ferris wheel turning slowly in the amusement park was visible from far away.

“Miss, we’re here.”

The Su family driver pulled over. “Shall I wait here with you?”

“No need. You can go.”

Su Qingyue stepped out, found a bench by the park entrance, and sat.

A light breeze lifted the hem of her cream-white skirt.

A faint smile played on her face. She trusted Sang Ling would be there soon.