Chapter 68: Volume 1, Chapter 68 – Violent Alpha x Gentle Omega (8) Major Revision

The noodle shop owner and his assistant, seeing the tall, muscular black‑clad men enter, thought they were there to cause trouble, and all hid in fear.

Seeing the atmosphere stall, Jiang Zhi leaned in and lowered her voice: "Jing Cang, it's fine. You go ahead; I can get back on my own."

Obviously the girl was also frightened by the black‑clad men; her fingers trembled as she held the chopsticks, and she dared not glance that way.

Jing Cang's narrow eyes drooped slightly with a faint shadow, and he gave a neutral, indifferent chuckle.

He knew very well that the old man had ulterior motives in sending him over.

The King of the Saiton Federation, opposed to the Empire, gathered students from all major military academies to hold a fair and just competition. The final result was the same: it could greatly strengthen the federation's military strength. For the Empire, this was undoubtedly a heavy blow.

The Empire naturally followed suit, gathering its own universities to compete against them.

And as the Empire's strongest SSS‑level Alpha, Jing Cang also became a target to be seized.

Jing Cang had no desire to take part in such matches; pitting Alpha against Alpha, he'd rather use that energy to fight the Insect Clan and the Dalte Star People.

The Insect Clan's combat ability is average, but its reproductive capacity is astonishing, and the war robots produced by the Dalte Star People are considered the greatest threat.

The old man has always been the Empire's most loyal supporter; otherwise, given the Jing family's earlier precarious situation, they could not have lasted to this day.

"Want to eat something else?" he said, standing up. The wooden chair scraped backward with his movement, making a harsh sound against the floor.

Jiang Zhi looked blank: "What should we eat?"

Jing Cang: "Pastries."

Delicious and tasty pastries.

Jiang Zhi, seated on the all‑black starship, began to regret it, with black‑clad men filling the seats ahead and behind, making her feel like a criminal.

First they went to a clothing store to pick out formal wear.

Jiang Zhi came out of the changing room for the twelfth time, walked up to the young man, and wearily lifted the hem of her skirt.

"Will this do?"

He had been dissatisfied with the previous eleven attempts.

She wore a blue‑gradient fishtail skirt; her slightly curled black hair fell over her pale shoulders, her waist slender enough to encircle, and her exquisite, dreamlike face showed no blemish beneath her raven‑black lashes—clear black and white eyes, pure and untainted.

Jing Cang, seated on the sofa, had inscrutable dark eyes; he glanced at her faintly, and his gaze finally rested on the half‑exposed shoulder as smooth and white as mutton‑fat jade.

"Change again."

Even if Jiang Zhi were usually good‑tempered, she grew angry, grabbed a portion of her skirt, strode up to him, and exclaimed, "No! This one!"

After twelve tries, she was exhausted and just wanted to lie down and sleep.

She shouldn't have come along just for pastries.

Jing Cang opened his outer coat and draped it over her head, covering a distracting splash of spring color.

"Let's go."

Jiang Zhi smelled the coat covering her whole body—a crisp pine‑smoke scent that entered her lungs, causing a slight itch; it wasn't unpleasant.

Leaving the clothing store, feeling the stares of the black‑clad crowd, Jing Cang lifted his eyes and released a violent surge of pheromones.

The black‑clad men, sensing the terrifying pressure, quickly lowered their gazes and stood still like statues.

They drove to the Jing residence; its antiquated architecture and the stone statues before the gate exuded an aura that inspired reverence.

The Jing family had survived three generations of imperial succession, its foundations deep and long‑standing; for a long time, when the imperial military was mentioned, the Jing family was the first name that came to mind. After the Jing family's two generals fell on the battlefield, only the elderly, already‑retired Old Master Jing remained, along with the infant Jing Cang in swaddling clothes.

The Jing family had declined for a period, but once Jing Cang's talent shone, he once again earned the king's favor and esteem.

Jiang Zhi followed Jing Cang inside, and upon reaching a room on the top floor, she could tell from the furnishings that it was Jing Cang's own quarters.

"Wait for me here," Jing Cang said, pulling open the floor‑to‑ceiling window to shut out all outside sound and light.

"All right, I know. When will you be back?" she said, her attention still on her tight dress, which constricted her chest and made breathing difficult.

"Soon." Jing Cang noticed her discomfort, stepped closer, his eyes falling on her slightly tilted slender waist, and asked, "What's wrong?"

Jiang Zhi wore a grimace, looked back at him pitifully, and complained in a hurt voice, "This outfit is too tight; it's squeezing the breath out of me."

Jing Cang's eyes darkened. "I'll help you."

Hearing this, Jiang Zhi brightened, leaned half‑against the table corner, and said, "Then please loosen it a bit."

The snug long dress outlined her waist into a delicate, graceful curve; her silky black hair fell like silk, setting off skin that seemed as fair as congealed fat and snow‑white, lovely. Faintly, one could see the pale nape of her neck, where an Omega's alluring gland was barely visible.

The black‑haired youth standing behind her inhaled deeply; his usually calm, lake‑like eyes flared with frenzied growth, spreading lust and a terrifying urge to possess.

His pale fingers fell onto the silk of her long dress, tracing down the curve of her waist, sending shivers through the girl.

Still not finished, Jiang Zhi's hand on the table trembled slightly, her cheeks flushing an unnatural crimson, and she couldn't help whispering:

"Is it… okay now?"

Jing Cang pressed his thin lips together, reluctantly withdrawing his fingers while suppressing the surging desire within.

In a hoarse voice he said, "It's done."

After Jing Cang left, Jiang Zhi walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window, looked down, and saw the lower‑level lights shining as bright as day, illuminating the whole courtyard.

Many honored guests arrived, most of them high‑ranking Imperial officials, and even a few members of the Imperial Family.

For this birthday of Old Master Jing, the Empire showed great concern; the gifts sent were worth a fortune, not to mention the honor of bringing them.

Jiang Zhi leaned against the window, watching curiously for a long time.

Until the banquet began.

The door showed no movement; though they had agreed he'd return right away, over two hours had passed and he still hadn't come back.

She felt a little hungry and wanted to sneak downstairs to try some pastries.

She pushed open the door, lifted her skirt, and carefully descended the stairs, meticulously noting the landmarks along the way to avoid getting lost.

At the corner, a sound caught her attention.

"Letting that lunatic Jing Cang be team captain? I'm absolutely not willing."

"The squad personally named by the king even has the Second Prince Rong Mingcheng in it. If a mad dog were made captain, who knows how many would oppose it?"

"What's the use of opposing? Wang Duo values Jing Cang a lot, you guys don't know? He doesn't even have an official title, yet they just let him go into the battlefield."

"A mad dog leading the team, hehe, you don't know how crazy he is—he even killed his own uncle; what else wouldn't he dare do?"

Jiang Zhi kept listening, when suddenly a familiar voice came from behind.

"Jiang Zhi?"

Jiang Zhi looked back.

Saw Rong Qingzhou wearing a snow-coloured royal western suit from head to toe, his slightly long silver hair specially groomed and tied into a ponytail hanging at the back, his handsome face coated with a faint golden glow, coming down the stairs like a noble prince stepped out of a fairy tale.

Jiang Zhi exclaimed in surprise: "You're here too?"

Rong Qingzhou's brows and eyes were gentle, with a smile: "Hmm, I didn't expect to run into you here."

Jiang Zhi scratched their head, explaining: "I came along with Jing Cang; it's his grandfather's birthday."

Rong Qingzhou asked nonchalantly: "Are you that close with him?"

So close as to arouse envy.

Jiang Zhi froze for a moment, then hesitantly shook their head: "Not that close, just ordinary friends."

Hearing the sound, Rong Qingzhou, with strands of starlight dotted in his sapphire‑like eyes, extended his arm to her in an elegant gentlemanly manner, saying: "I'll take your hand."

The stairs were not easy to walk; Jiang Zhi, wearing high heels, needed to rely on the wooden railing to go down.

She thought for a moment, then met his gentle, drowning‑person eyes, smiled lightly, and nodded: "Thanks then."

The mysterious, lingering fragrance from the girl's body drifted to the tip of the nose, entwining and not dissipating, bewildering the heart and mind.

Rong Qingzhou pleased, narrowed his eyes, took a deep breath, and curled his thin lips.