Chapter 106: Letting You Steal a Kiss from Me

At the end of the transmission, Instructor Aiger told him,
“The internal mole hasn’t been completely rooted out. The mission to Nagano Star is top-secret.”

“During this time, the military academy will conduct live combat assignments, sending each Alpha out on different missions.”

“I’ll secretly assign the squad heading to Nagano Star. When the time comes, you’ll use false identities to infiltrate the laboratory there.”

Instructor Aiger tapped twice on the blue screen, as if operating something. A moment later, a notification beeped from the star brain.

“I’ve sent you some materials. Memorize every single word.”

“And also…” Aiger’s gaze shifted, sweeping over his shoulder. Ji Laili immediately understood, moving the star brain aside to reveal Shen Yu’s face.

Before Aiger could say anything, Shen Yu’s face flashed across the screen for a second before being replaced by Ji Laili’s bright, beaming smile.

Aiger’s mouth twitched, and a vein throbbed on his forehead. “Shen Yu will be going with you. I’ve sent his mission files to you as well.”

“You’d better complete the mission and return, or else—”

Aiger let out a sinister laugh, one that could probably scare three Imperial children on the spot.

“Time is tight. Get ready.”

With a click, the transmission ended.

Ji Laili stared at the now-dark blue screen and muttered, “Instructor Aiger’s temper is getting worse and worse. Those Imperial people are in for a nightmare.”

He turned his head. The young man resting on his shoulder was still in deep sleep, the dark circles under his eyes proving how long it had been since he last had a proper rest.

“Seriously…”

“Letting you steal a kiss from me.”

Ji Laili’s lips curved slightly. He gently brushed a fingertip against Shen Yu’s dark circles, but the smile in his eyes slowly faded.

Shen Yu’s secondary differentiation had yet to stabilize. It couldn’t stop, nor could it be stopped—because no one knew if his second differentiation would turn him into an Omega.

Even the slightest possibility meant they couldn’t take the risk.

Ji Laili had occasionally caught Shen Yu pressing his lips together uncomfortably. But whenever their eyes met, Shen Yu would simply smile, as if nothing was wrong.

He knew Shen Yu was enduring a constant, dull pain—one that he shouldn’t have to bear.

Ji Laili had never forgotten why he was here, nor what had caused all of this in the first place.

His blackening level had been steadily decreasing over time, now down to [5590].

He wondered—how much of that number was pain from his past life that he could never let go of?

—

Shen Yu woke up half an hour later. The long sleep left his mind in a fog, still sluggish.

He stared blankly at his familiar surroundings—the bright ceiling light, the cold and minimalist white walls, and the faint hum of the cleaning robot diligently sweeping the floor.

It was a single-occupancy dorm in the Federal Military Academy.

Though it was familiar, he still felt an inexplicable sense of disconnection.

Until a bright, smiling face suddenly appeared in his vision, filling his entire field of view.

The blurry background faded away, leaving only that face—and the reflection of his own silhouette in those warm, curved eyes.

“Shen-xuezhang, you slept for so long. Does your neck hurt?”

“…Lailai.”

“Mhm, it’s me. Here, have some water.”

A cup, warmed to just the right temperature, was thoughtfully pressed against his lips. Shen Yu obediently drank a few sips. A light mist formed over the rim, blurring his eyebrows and eyes.

Memories of the treatment room resurfaced.

His hand instinctively reached for the back of his neck—only to be gently stopped.

Ji Laili’s ears were a little red, but his bright eyes were unwavering as he said, “Don’t touch it yet.”

“I helped take care of it, but I don’t know if it’ll hurt if you press on it now.”

Shen Yu finally felt a tangible sense of being marked. Perhaps it was because Ji Laili was so nonchalant about it that Shen Yu, too, felt no discomfort over the matter.

It was just a step taken a little earlier than expected.

His voice was still hoarse. “Are you okay, Lailai?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Far from being unwell, Ji Laili was in peak condition. He could probably run a kilometer in a weighted vest right now.

He gestured for Shen Yu to come closer. Shen Yu’s eyelashes trembled slightly before he obediently leaned in.

Ji Laili inspected the back of his neck. There was no redness or swelling—good.

But remembering that Shen Yu was still in the middle of his secondary differentiation, Ji Laili hesitated. “Wait a second.”

He got up, grabbed a suppression patch from his stash, and gently pressed it onto the nape of Shen Yu’s neck. Any lingering traces of pheromones were now completely sealed off.

Ji Laili looked at his handiwork—the little dog-shaped suppression patch stuck neatly in place—and nodded in satisfaction.

Come to think of it, he’d only used a little dog-shaped band-aid on Shen Yu once before.

Yet ever since then, Shen Yu had developed an obsession with anything shaped like a little dog. Now, his dorm was filled with them.

This time, Shen Yu reached up to touch the back of his neck again, but Ji Laili didn’t stop him. Still, Shen Yu only brushed over the spot once before lowering his hand, seeming unconcerned about his gland’s condition.

For them, being marked had simply been a natural progression.

Ji Laili explained what had happened after they left the treatment room, then told him about the mission to Nagano Star. As he spoke, he operated his star brain. “Instructor Aiger sent me your mission files.”

A soft beep sounded as the star brain screen lit up. Shen Yu saved the files.

“Not going to read them?” Ji Laili asked curiously.

He had already gone through his own file while waiting for Shen Yu to wake up. But out of respect for his partner, he hadn’t touched Shen Yu’s.

Even as lovers, he felt it was important to respect each other’s privacy.

Ji Laili had assumed that Shen Yu would be eager to read it immediately. After all, Shen Yu was a direct victim of the “Omega Conversion Drug”—now that they had a chance to strike back, he thought Shen Yu wouldn’t hesitate.

Yet after saving the file, Shen Yu didn’t open it.

Ji Laili had just finished speaking when Shen Yu raised his eyes to look at him. Those dark irises stared at him for a moment before shifting away, revealing a hint of quiet disappointment.

“I don’t really want to read it…”

Shen Yu pressed his lips together, his emotions leaking through for once. A rare trace of frustration surfaced.

“I thought I’d be able to stay with you through your susceptibility period.”

Ji Laili was briefly stunned, then smiled.

“We can still go through it together—on the way there.” He truly didn’t mind. “I can control my emotions. Besides, with you around, how could anything go wrong?”

Shen Yu thought Ji Laili might be the most emotionally stable Alpha he had ever met in either of his lives.

Perhaps it was this very trait that made Instructor Aiger, after much deliberation, decide not to cancel the mission—even with Ji Laili in his susceptibility period.

Another reason was that having a marked partner by his side would significantly reduce the risk of him losing control.

The mission was dangerous.

They might not have time to deal with pheromone issues in the field.

Ji Laili didn’t care about any of that—he would handle it himself.

---

Lhaozi’s Note: Laili, Lai lai or Lailai are all nickname of Ji Laili, chinese loves to give nickname or endearment so please do not be confused.