Sexual Tension
Time was tight, so Qi Ying streamlined everything. Painfully forsaking the remaining instant noodles and his luggage suitcase, he retrieved a backpack from the storage room, haphazardly packing a few essential personal items along with the bite-guard meant for self-preservation.
While he was organizing the medical kit, the second lieutenant walked over. Without saying a word, he carefully packed up the inventoried suppressants and stuffed them inside.
This kind of silence made Qi Ying feel extremely uncomfortable.
Ever since the truth serum incident, the atmosphere between him and the second lieutenant had been exceedingly tense.
His emotions were complicated: he understood that military orders were absolute and that the baby-faced officer couldn’t act on his own to intervene in what happened in the containment cell—let alone give him a heads-up. Yet he truly loathed this feeling of being used by those around him.
Although the second lieutenant rarely showed him a pleasant face, at least before this incident, he had always assumed that he and the second lieutenant belonged to the same camp—just everyday corporate slaves, miserable working stiffs. It was only after the truth serum incident that Qi Ying realized with a jolt that he actually had no camp at all. The second lieutenant and Lu Chengjun belonged to the same camp, while he was the only one who could be cast aside at any time and constantly had to prove himself.
Sometimes Qi Ying even thought that even if he and Lu Mengzheng were in the same camp, it would still be something. For instance, if someone came to tell him that he was a citizen of the New Asia Republic, then he would have a stance, and could be unconditionally accepted by people sharing that same stance—as natural as a drop of water merging into the ocean.
But no one could give him an answer.
Qi Ying’s movements slowed down, and after a moment, he simply stopped and crossed his arms.
“I’ve realized your lips are truly sealed… Just now when they pushed me forward to escort Lu Mengzheng, you didn’t say a single word to help me.”
The second lieutenant kept his head lowered without looking at him, rummaging through the pile of colorful trinkets Qi Ying had left behind: “You’re not taking any of this? What about the lunchbox—are you taking it?”
Seeing that he still had no intention of offering an explanation, Qi Ying pulled the backpack zipper shut with swift decisiveness: “Not taking it. Why would I take a lunchbox? Do I look like I’ll have time to eat instant noodles on the road? I’ll pick it up when I get back.”
The second lieutenant raised his head, a hesitant expression returning to his baby face. Qi Ying hated this about him most: either have superb acting skills so no one can tell, but he was riddled with flaws; yet when you wanted to ask, he wouldn’t speak, needlessly making one feel flustered and irritated.
However, with parting at hand, Qi Ying didn’t want to squabble with him either. Cradling the fish tank in his arms, he picked up the medical kit, slung the backpack over his shoulders, and walked toward the elevator doors. The second lieutenant leaned forward to swipe the key card for him.
Qi Ying pulled the candy tin out of his trouser pocket, sliding the lid open with one hand, and took one of the remaining four lemon candies to press into the second lieutenant’s hand.
“Just remembered, you’ve never mentioned what your name is.”
In the army, individual service numbers were used far more frequently than names, and the second lieutenant had long grown accustomed to being called back and forth. He was caught off guard by Qi Ying asking this question, pausing for a moment before answering: “My name is Chen Yi.”
Qi Ying said: “Alright then, Second Lieutenant Chen, congratulations on getting some peace and quiet at last. With Lu Mengzheng gone, things will be easier for you—you won’t have to do five tasks in an hour, and I won’t keep bothering you with chatter or making harassing calls to you in the middle of the night.”
The second lieutenant bit his lip and clutched the candy tightly. After a short while, he took a step closer, pressing right up against Qi Ying’s back. Qi Ying instinctively wanted to pull away, but heard the other party lower his voice: “Be careful out there.”
His tone sounded unfathomable. Qi Ying turned his face slightly, catching a glimpse of the second lieutenant’s rounded nose out of the corner of his eye.
“Actually, it’s good that you’re going to Jilong. Originally, if you didn’t go, they wouldn’t have paid you your wages as promised, nor would they have let you go.”
Qi Ying knit his brows, just about to ask a question—
“Don’t speak, just listen to me,” the second lieutenant said rapidly. “They never intended to let you go in the first place, because they don’t trust your identity, even though they haven’t cleared it up for now. But Lu Mengzheng requested that you go along to Jilong. Since neither of you can escape on the road anyway, Colonel Lu agreed. But after completing the hand-off in Jilong, how they’ll handle you… even I don’t know.”
Having finished, he took a step back: “That’s all.”
Before Qi Ying could react, the elevator doors slid open in front of him, and the second lieutenant took him by the shoulder, shoving him into the elevator.
“So goodbye… It’s best if you don’t come back, and best if we don’t meet again.”
Qi Ying realized he originally had a multitude of questions, but as the elevator doors pulled closed, he suddenly didn’t feel like saying anything anymore. Brightening into a smile, he locked eyes with the second lieutenant through the shrinking gap in the doors: “Thank you, Second Lieutenant Chen. Give yourself a proper break! Wish you safety!”
The elevator swiftly ascended. In the quiet space, Qi Ying gradually pulled back his smile, staring at his own reflection on the compartment walls—hair a complete mess, with the backpack and medical kit all draped over him, looking even more disheveled than when he first arrived at Storage Room 105. But as matters stood, it seemed he had no other choice.
Upon stepping out of the elevator, a soldier immediately stepped forward to greet him, leading him out of Storage Room 105.
Three armored vehicles stood fully equipped and ready to depart, gleaming under the sunlight with an indestructible luster: the lead vehicle was Jasu’s latest heavy armor model, personally commanded by Lu Chengjun; Zheng Yaqiao sat in the lighter, more comfortable back vehicle; while Lu Mengzheng rode in the middle one. Qi Ying clutched his fish tank as he scrambled into the passenger seat reserved for him.
He stole a glance backward through the rearview mirror, catching a small slice of Lu Mengzheng’s sharply outlined profile, along with the armed Alpha soldiers on his left and right.
The vehicles soon started up. He shifted his body slightly, only to collide directly with Lu Mengzheng’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Flustered, he hurriedly looked away, pretending to adjust the sun visor overhead.
Having gone without real sunlight for too long, his eyes weren’t quite adapted; things felt much better after flipping down the visor. Qi Ying casually took off his hair tie, using his fingers to re-gather his messy hair and tying it half-up at the back of his head.
From behind, Lu Mengzheng watched the protruding bone of his neck swept occasionally by the tips of his hair, his slender fingers, and his wrist trembling slightly as he stretched open the hairband. The skin on the back of his neck was pale and clean; just a few days ago in the dark, he had come so close to leaving a mark there.
Though Betas possessed no pheromones, perhaps because of Qi Ying’s long hair, the scent of mint shampoo diffused through the enclosed vehicle along with his movements.
Out of habit, Lu Mengzheng wanted to adjust his own suppressant wristband. The handcuffs produced a faint metallic clink, and the gun muzzles on both sides immediately snapped toward him.
“Don’t move.”
Lu Mengzheng spread his hands open once more to signal his harmlessness, then slowly rested them back on his knees.
The convoy headed west all the way. Qi Ying watched the scenery outside the window for a while—from the lush, wooded hills of the southern suburbs to the streetlights and power lines speeding past—feeling as though they had been driving for a long time.
He tapped on his phone wanting to check his location, only to realize the convoy was likely carrying a jammer; all signals were completely blocked. After a moment, he still couldn’t resist turning his head to ask the driver where they planned to stop for a rest and roughly how long it would take. The driver held the steering wheel with a somber face, ignoring him entirely—even more tight lipped than the baby-faced officer. Just as Qi Ying was feeling a bit embarrassed, he heard Lu Mengzheng speak from behind: “Answer him.”
The gun muzzles on both sides snapped toward him once more at the sound.
Lu Mengzheng paid them no mind, commanding once again with a composed expression: “Answer him.”
The driver stole a glance backward through the rearview mirror. Everyone’s fingers were hooked around the triggers, their expressions tense. He shot another glance at Qi Ying, and Qi Ying blinked back at him.
“Resting in two hours.”
Qi Ying grinned: “Wouldn’t it have been better to just say so earlier? Thanks a lot.”
After that, Lu Mengzheng didn’t speak again, keeping his eyes closed to rest his mind, and peace returned to the interior of the vehicle.
Qi Ying had no idea why Lu Mengzheng was helping him. This man truly had hidden motives—helping out out of nowhere when help wasn’t needed, yet dragging him into the mud when he ought to keep a tight lip. Qi Ying felt mixed emotions for a moment, but regardless, giving these arrogant army soldiers a bit of a hard time still made him quite happy. At any rate, with Lu Mengzheng around, they wouldn’t dare do anything to him. He could be considered as leaning on someone else’s power to—
Wait, that wasn’t the phrase.
Borrowing the tiger’s majesty like a fox! He could be considered borrowing the tiger’s majesty like a fox!
Around eleven in the morning, the convoy finally stopped at an army camp to take a brief rest. Qi Ying recorded Lu Mengzheng’s current heart rate and blood oxygen levels, intending to take his temperature once more.
While taking his temperature, Lu Mengzheng said two things to him.
The first was asking what that small piece of leather hanging from his chest was. He repeated the explanation he had given to the officer when he first entered Storage Room 105.
Lu Mengzheng looked at him with eyes brimming with a smile: “It is indeed fashionable. It suits you well.”
Qi Ying hadn’t expected his niche aesthetic to receive someone else’s approval, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head—even forgetting to ask Lu Mengzheng what kind of game he was playing by specifically demanding that he follow along to Jilong.
Lu Mengzheng asked again: “Have you had any water?”
Just as Qi Ying was about to say he had already drunk some, the soldier beside them shouted to stop them.
“No talking. Leave as soon as you’re done measuring!”
Lu Mengzheng fell silent. He removed the thermometer and handed it back to Qi Ying—37.6°C. It was still an abnormal body temperature, but because he had just received a shot of special suppressant in the early morning, his condition appeared fairly good.
Qi Ying scrambled back into the front passenger seat.
This time, the vehicle drove for a very long time. With no phone signal, he couldn’t access the internet; fortunately, he had downloaded a few novels earlier that he hadn’t finished reading, so he read for a bit out of boredom. It wasn’t until roughly three hours later that the convoy finally pulled over again. Parched and sunbaked, Qi Ying stepped out of the vehicle to stretch his stiff lower back, chugging half a bottle of water in one go.
Before his eyes stretched a winding mountain road, bordered by steep cliffs and tall trees on one side, while fully armed soldiers patrolled back and forth on the other. A route chosen like this was indeed hidden from view, easy to defend and hard to attack—perhaps even the kind that wouldn’t show up on a map. Under these circumstances, it would be difficult for Lu Mengzheng to run, and even harder for him.
Qi Ying absentmindedly kicked a small pebble beneath his feet, contemplating whether there was any way to call for help. Setting aside the fact that his phone was useless right now, even if he managed to find a way out of the signal jamming area, he could only call Ning Jiaxin. However, his own phone was also being tapped by the military. When the time came, failing to save himself would be a minor issue, but dragging Ning Jiaxin into the mud would be a major one; her father was the Secretary of the Senate, and in all likelihood, he wouldn’t go against the military either. For now, he could only take it one step at a time.
Qi Ying mused to himself for a while, but before he could come up with any brilliant ideas, he was called back to the vehicle by a soldier, who said Lu Mengzheng was refusing to eat.
His physical state was indeed a bit worse than in the morning; his breathing was rapid, and an unnatural flush coated his face. Kneeling on the front passenger seat, Qi Ying turned around and asked him, “Why aren’t you eating?”
Lu Mengzheng shook his head weakly: “No appetite.”
Facing backward, Qi Ying rested his chin on the seatback, exposing only his two eyes: “That won’t do…” Shrinking back, he noisily tore open the wrapper of a compressed biscuit and held it out in front of Lu Mengzheng, “Try this—it’s chocolate-flavored.”
Lu Mengzheng looked at him quietly.
Qi Ying continued persuading: “The taste is alright, it’s not that hard to—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Lu Mengzheng propped up his upper body, leaning forward to take a bite of the biscuit right off his arm, his lips brushing lightly against Qi Ying’s fingers.
Snap.
As if his fingertips had been scalded, Qi Ying instantly yanked his hand back, inwardly cursing under his breath. This tall Alpha, leaning back in the car seat wearing shackles, raised his eyes to look at him while eating the biscuit out of his hand—he looked practically like a succubus right out of the novel he had just been reading.
“Are you a dog? You have hands and feet—eat it yourself!”
He tossed the rest of the biscuit right into Lu Mengzheng’s lap, secretly rubbing his fingertips before turning back around in huff.
Two minutes later, they set off again. The driver and soldiers swapped shifts, replaced by new faces once more. In between, Qi Ying held his fish tank and napped for a while; when he woke up, he found the sun hanging blood-red in the west.
Glancing back through the rearview mirror, Lu Mengzheng’s body swayed slightly, his eyes closed as if sleeping. The eyelids of the two soldiers beside him felt a bit heavy, drooping from time to time, but they quickly tried their best to glare with eyes as wide as brass bells.
Qi Ying didn’t feel like waking anyone up with talk either. Rubbing his eyes, he picked up his phone to continue reading the novel he had left halfway through.
After a while, he suddenly heard a voice from behind ask, “What are you reading?”
He turned his head to see that Lu Mengzheng had opened his eyes at some unknown point, but his posture hadn’t changed; thus, the two soldiers beside him merely sat up straight without pointing their guns at him.
“I’m reading a novel.”
Lu Mengzheng asked, “What genre?”
“It’s an apocalyptic novel… The general plot is Double Alpha saving the world.”
“Double Alpha?”
Qi Ying waved his phone slightly: “Oh, it means two Alphas. Of course, there are also AO novels, which refer to stories happening between an Alpha and an Omega. Generally, I still prefer reading AO.”
Lu Mengzheng listened quite attentively: “Are there no AB novels?”
“…Who reads that?” Qi Ying burst out laughing, then asked the two soldiers, “Do you guys read them?”
“…”
The soldiers shook their heads.
He asked the driver again: “Do you read them?”
Grasping the steering wheel, the driver didn’t bother to pay him any mind.
Yet Qi Ying turned back around nonchalantly and continued: “Very few people write AB novels. Betas are too ordinary—they don’t have pheromone attraction, so there’s zero tension.”
Lu Mengzheng looked at him: “Is that so? But I think whether there is sexual tension has nothing to do with the Beta, and more to do with that Alpha.”
“That makes sense too. If the Alpha is very powerful, it would be good to read.” Qi Ying thought about it for a second. “But… wait a minute, did I say sexual tension just now? Wasn’t it just tension?”
Lu Mengzheng twitched his mouth: “Mm. You said sexual tension.”
The soldiers on both sides exchanged an awkward glance, unsure whether they ought to step in, before simultaneously turning their gazes out the window.
Qi Ying couldn’t remember what he had actually just said either, so he took the opportunity to introduce a few Alphas from his favorite books to Lu Mengzheng: “First off, they have to be strong, right? They need muscles, and they have to be the dominant, guiding type…”
Lu Mengzheng summarized: “So you like this kind of Alpha?”
Having turned his head to speak for too long, Qi Ying’s neck felt sore, so he turned back around to face forward. Sniffling, he recalled how he had thought about Lu Mengzheng while taking care of business in the bathroom that day, and his voice unconsciously lowered.
“Well, not really. I still prefer Omegas.”
Lu Mengzheng stopped asking questions.