It was late August on Warner. The star’s subsolar point had shifted north, baking the entire northern sector under a scorching heatwave.
At the Galactic Marine Corps training grounds, the synthetic track radiated the sharp reek of heated rubber. The surrounding chain-link fence, warped and twisted like sun-charred thorns, stood crooked along the perimeter.
An entire company of soldiers was holding push-up positions in unison, palms pressed against the burning track, breathing heavily as their chests rose and fell.
As sweat poured off them, the air grew thick with a chaotic blend of Alpha pheromones. Pineapple beer, braised offal, hot pot, and even a pungent whif of river-snail rice noodles collided in a messy brew that drove the sweeping janitor to cover his nose and steer far clear of the field.
Fu Siheng remained entirely unfazed. Cold and composed, he continued the count: “Four hundred sixty-seven, four hundred sixty-eight…”
His chilly, command-heavy voice cut through the stifling heat like a burst of cool spring water.
Under the blinding sunlight, he wore a dark blue service uniform, its collar buttoned impeccably tight. A tactical belt cinched his slim waist, from which a coiled riding crop hung at his right side. His legs were straight and long, clad in black high-top combat boots.
A few silver-white strands of hair peeked out from under his dark military cap. The brim shaded the upper half of his face, leaving only a strikingly sharp jawline visible.
“Four hundred ninety-nine, five hundred. Pause.” His thin lips moved, issuing the command without a trace of emotion.
That single word…pause…brought a collective sigh of relief from every Alpha present.
“Damn it, finally over!”
“Fuck, my hands are practically ruined! This is the most brutal ‘warm-up’ I’ve done all year!”
“Quick, smell my hands…do they smell like roasted meat or what?”
Fu Siheng tilted his chin slightly, casting his gaze over the soldiers who thought they were off the hook. “Did I say you could get up?”
His face was lean and fair, carrying a brilliant, aristocratic beauty, yet paired with a pair of world-weary grey-blue eyes. Behind his stern, unsmiling expression lay an undeniable aura of cold restraint.
By all rights, it was a face that should drive countless Alphas wild; even the empire’s top celebrity couldn’t match a fraction of his presence.
Yet the moment he spoke, the color drained from every Alpha’s face.
The supervising company commander wiped sweat from his brow and barked at the recruits: “Major Fu came out to train you personally today, and you don’t even have the sense to be grateful! What are you dawdling for? Get back to it!”
Fu Siheng added coldly, “First row third, fifth row fourth, and seventh row last…all performed over ten improper reps. Entire company, prepare for a two-hundred-count plank.”
Hearing this, none of the Alphas dared to utter a word. Exchange varied, terrified glances as they collapsed back down onto the track.
Grateful? Grateful, my ass!
Everyone in the Marine Corps knew Major Fu was notoriously ruthless. Once, when a private in a squad he was training grumbled during morning drills, Fu Siheng forced the entire unit into a week of extra training, running them on the field until midnight every single night.
Despite his breathtaking looks and un-differentiated status, his terrifying reputation preceded him.
The youngest major in the Marine Corps was famous for two things. First, he was a consecutive champion in mech piloting and tactical command, having led the Galactic Squadron to completely wipe out Warner’s team…the main reason why, despite their endless grievances, the soldiers respected him completely.
Second, he had not yet differentiated into an ABO gender, which made things convenient for his suitors. He attracted interest across the entire spectrum.
Of course, every unit had its share of fearless fools…like the dark-skinned Alpha in the third spot of the first row.
While everyone else dropped back into position, he alone stayed standing, a carefree smirk playing on his face. “Major, give us a break, will you? Who does a warm-up this intense? Anyone watching would think we’re heading to the front lines tomorrow.”
They were all new recruits, but “Blackie” had a bit of family clout behind him and had been eyeing Fu Siheng for months.
Although it was common knowledge that Fu Siheng was practically guaranteed to differentiate into a top-tier Alpha, he had never lacked Alpha pursuers.
In the words of his childhood friend, Shi Yuanyang, Warner simply had too many brainless Alphas who had no idea how to spell the word death.
And Fu Siheng hated being pursued by his own kind…a fact best demonstrated by the long list of Alpha suitors he had beaten into hospital beds. Back in university, his father had been called in by administrators more times than he could count over those incidents.
“You find it tiring?” Fu Siheng looked at him.
Hearing his tone, the company commander instantly smelled disaster. He rushed forward to intervene: “Uh, Major Fu, the kid doesn’t know any better—”
Fu Siheng threw him a light glance, and the commander instantly stood at attention, shutting his mouth and holding his breath.
Silence fell across the entire field, broken only by the heavy, ragged breathing of the recruits.
Blackie, however, felt every cell in his body surge with excitement, his voice quivering slightly: “Of course it’s tiring! Major, I’m just worried about you standing out here getting tanned. Skin as pale as yours would look terrible if it ended up looking like mine.”
The reckless provocation drew a wave of sharp gasps from the surrounding recruits.
The commander nearly fainted on the spot. Just as he opened his mouth to unleash a torrent of curses, Fu Siheng beat him to it.
“If you find it so tiring, why not go back and rest?”
His voice was calm and aloof, laced with an icy detachment that sent chills down everyone’s spines.
As he spoke, he slowly unclipped the riding crop from his waist. Holding the grip with his slender fingers, he gave a sharp flick. The two-meter whip struck the track with a crack that echoed like thunder.
“Row one, number three. Step out.” The corners of Fu Siheng’s lips curled up slightly, though his eyes remained dead cold. “If you can dodge a single stroke from my whip, you may return to your quarters immediately.”
The commander’s mouth gaped wide the moment Fu Siheng reached for the whip. Soft whispers broke out among the recruits.
“Fuck, that’s the whip! It put Li Jun in the hospital for three days last month!”
“Terrifying! Why the hell is Blackie being so reckless? I heard he’s been harassing the Major for a while.”
“He’s insane… relying on his daddy’s influence, no doubt.”
Blackie had flirted with Fu Siheng for months without ever getting a single reaction. Now that he finally had the Major’s attention, he was practically beside himself with thrill.
So what if he took a whip strike? It was Fu Siheng swinging it!
The commander was bordering on a complete meltdown. On one side was the hardest officer to cross in the entire Marine Corps; on the other was his old friend’s son, whom he had been asked to look after. If someone ended up crippled today, he would be caught right in the middle!
Watching Blackie march over like an idiot walking into his own execution, the commander panicked like an ant on a hot stove.
Just as he was about to risk it all and beg for leniency, a messenger came running up the track.
Panting heavily, the soldier offered a quick salute. “Major Fu, the Marshal requests your presence immediately.”
Fu Siheng paused, turning his head with a flicker of displeasure. “I’m mid-training.”
“The Marshal asked you to pause the session, sir. He said it’s an urgent matter.”
Fu Siheng frowned slightly, but conceded. “Understood.”
One of the foundational rules of the Galactic Marine Corps was absolute obedience to superior commands. Even if he were on an active battlefield, a single order from the top would mean pulling back without question.
He coiled the riding crop back up and looked at Blackie. “What’s your name?”
“Reporting, sir! Song Xiao!” Blackie’s eyes lit up as he shouted at the top of his lungs.
The commander desperately wanted to smack the back of his head. What an absolute idiot. Offending a superior and proudly giving his full name right after!
Fu Siheng glanced at the commander, his voice cool. “After training ends, come to my office.”
Commander: “…Yes, sir.”
Watching Fu Siheng turn and follow the soldier away, the commander immediately cuffed Song Xiao across the head. “Are you out of your mind?! Do you have any idea who he is to provoke him like that?!”
“He’s just a major! Why are you hitting me!” Song Xiao rubbed his head angrily. His father held the rank of general…why should he fear a mere major?
The commander was ready to spit blood. “Get back in line! Look at yourself! You’re an embarrassment to your father!”
When training concluded, the commander stood obediently outside Fu Siheng’s office, waiting right on time.
Fu Siheng had not yet returned. Next door, two officers had just wrapped up their duties and left their door open while smoking and chatting.
“Hey, did you hear? Heng is getting transferred.”
“No way? That’s what the chief called him in for today?”
“I heard he’s going to the Imperial Military Academy as an instructor. Out of all places, sending him to a military academy feels like such a waste of talent.”
“What do you know? For anyone else, it’d be an exile, but for the Prince, it’s just building a resume. Besides, do you have any idea how high the entry standards are for the academy…”
Anyone who wasn’t a fresh recruit knew about the relationship between Fu Siheng and Marshal Fu, which was why people secretly referred to him as the “Prince.”
Standing outside, the commander was stunned. Fu Siheng is getting transferred?
After half an hour of waiting, Fu Siheng finally arrived, his face dark with irritation.
Seeing his expression, the commander became certain that the rumor was true.
He followed Fu Siheng into the office, standing awkwardly before the desk for a moment before speaking up. “Major…”
“Send that kid to do a full night of physical training, then have him write a written apology and hand it to you,” Fu Siheng said, pinching the bridge of his nose without even looking up.
The commander hadn’t expected him to let Song Xiao off so easily and stood there momentarily stunned.
“Standing there for? You think the punishment is too light?” Fu Siheng lowered his hand, his eyes cold and sharp with impatience.
“No, no! Thank you for your leniency, Major. I’ll take my leave now.” The commander gave a swift salute and slipped out the door in one fluid motion.
Once he was gone, Fu Siheng stared down at the red-header document on his desk…an official transfer order from headquarters.
GALACTIC MARINE CORPS DIRECTIVE: WARNER [2146] NO. 331
Regarding the Transfer of Major Fu Siheng to the Imperial Military Academy
His slender fingers rested on the red lettering. His knuckles were slightly pale, the blue veins on the back of his hand bulging slightly as if he were using every ounce of restraint not to crumple the paper into a ball.
Just then, his comms device buzzed on the desk.
The caller ID showed Shi Yuanyang, his Omega childhood friend.
Fu Siheng picked it up. A gentle young voice came through, laced with a bit of complaint: “Xiao Heng, why aren’t you here yet? Everyone’s waiting on you.”
Loud, chaotic background noise leaked through the speaker. Only then did Fu Siheng recall it was Friday afternoon…the military’s official rest period…and he had agreed to meet a few friends at a bar.
“Not coming. You guys enjoy,” he said, rubbing his temples, completely drained of any desire to go out.
“What happened? You sound awful,” Shi Yuanyang asked, taking a sip of his drink.
Fu Siheng let out a heavy breath. “I’m being posted to the Imperial Military Academy next week.”
Both he and Shi Yuanyang were graduates of the academy. Fu Siheng had gone on to join the Marine Corps, while Shi Yuanyang stayed to pursue advanced studies at the academy’s research institute. Though Fu Siheng wouldn’t be teaching at the institute, the two would undoubtedly run into each other regularly.
Shi Yuanyang choked on his drink, nearly coughing his lungs out. “Cough…cough! Oh my god… You’re coming back to teach? As an instructor? Are you serious?!”
Fu Siheng didn’t miss the underlying excitement in his voice. “Remember to call me Instructor when we cross paths, or I’ll dock your discipline points.”
Shi Yuanyang laughed, sounding thoroughly amused. “Damn, am I gonna have to help you throw away bags of gifts all over again? Wait, now that you’re an instructor, people probably won’t be that brazen.”
He vividly remembered back in university when a crowd of Alpha seniors chased after Fu Siheng relentlessly. One idiot had even tried to propose using a hot air balloon during a public lecture, only to get stuck in the air and unable to come down.
It had been the running joke of their circle for months, and Fu Siheng snapped every time it was brought up.
Unsurprisingly, Fu Siheng replied coldly, “Not unless someone wants a disciplinary infraction on their record.”
Shi Yuanyang chuckled. “So, is that why you’re so against coming back?”
He recalled that Marshal Fu had tried to transfer him back last year, but Fu Siheng had resisted, delaying the official order until now.
For officers aiming for promotion, an academy posting was considered a gilded stepping stone…a temporary placement that practically guaranteed a rank jump upon return.
“No,” Fu Siheng uttered flatly.
Fast-tracked promotions had never interested him, and he despised military politics.
Joining the Marine Corps had been his dream since childhood. Besides, the Imperial Military Academy held a memory he preferred never to revisit.
That was the real reason he didn’t want to go back.
That guy… should still be at the research institute right now, shouldn’t he?