Chapter 11: The Limit of Authority is Mine

The door to the omega’s bedroom slowly opened, revealing a warm and cheerful interior. The sunlight streamed in at an angle, casting soft and warm light across the floor. It was easy to imagine how bright and cozy this room would be when the sun was at the perfect height.

It was a very fitting space for an omega—Xi Ming squinted slightly, and his wheelchair turned, entering the room.

The room was decorated with high-cleanliness materials, allowing the room to be ready for use as soon as it was completed. The work was done by machines, making the process efficient and quick. It only took about one or two hours to finish a bedroom.

ZL?

Xi Ming didn’t notice any unfamiliar people had come, but the guest room near his bedroom had undergone a drastic transformation.

Without a doubt, this must have been another of Xi Songkai’s doing.

In the previous life, Xi Songkai hadn’t found him an omega, so none of these things had happened. Even though the old house’s authority was in the other person’s hands, he hadn’t really used it much.

But this time, whether it was the servants sent without notice or the unauthorized room renovations, Xi Ming was displeased—since he had moved out so many years ago, there was no need to leave the authority with him.

Since the authority was already shared with Shi Chan… Xi Ming’s mind briefly flashed to Shi Chan’s clear eyes, furrowing his brows for a moment. He decided to temporarily leave it with him.

Xi Ming remembered seeing a saying online, that appropriately sharing authority with an omega would make their relationship more stable.

He might need the omega’s mental energy for comfort at any time, so he would not hold back on material things and authority for the other person.

“Keep the room’s authority with you.” Xi Ming said.

In fact, if he could, Xi Ming would prefer Shi Chan to move into his room, so he could constantly comfort his mental energy, but the radiation levels on his body far exceeded safe limits. It was okay for a short time, but prolonged exposure could affect the omega’s health.

Omega’s bodies were fragile, and for long-term considerations, Xi Ming wouldn’t do anything to harm the omega’s health.

Shi Chan followed behind Xi Ming into the room. Hearing this, he readily agreed, “Okay.”

Shi Chan’s fully obedient response made the cold emotions in Xi Ming’s eyes slightly subside.

After circling the room, Xi Ming stopped his wheelchair, his gaze sweeping over Shi Chan’s nape. He spoke, “I’ve heard that omega’s bodies become extremely tired after being marked for the first time.”

“You should rest, I’m going out.” With that, he turned his wheelchair and headed for the door.

Mentioning marking made Shi Chan instinctively feel warmth in the back of his neck. After responding, he escorted Xi Ming to the door, watching him return to the bedroom across the hall.

Shutting the door, Shi Chan turned back and relaxed, lying on the bed, his eyes unfocused as he thought about what had happened that day. His beautiful eyes lost focus, but his ears secretly turned red.

Shi Chan moved his arm and gently touched the indent where the mark had been left on his gland. His eyelids slowly drooped.

It was a bite mark left by Xi Ming.

He had been marked by Xi Ming.

Shi Chan’s expression remained mostly unchanged, but a tingling sensation crept up inside, and he rolled over on the bed, pulling the blanket he had been lying on and hugging it. His clear eyes shimmered a few times before he closed them somewhat contentedly.

Omega’s physiological traits in this world were indeed strange—glands, marks, pheromones, and the mating cycle that would happen to him in the future. Each one carried hidden sensual meaning.

Shi Chan had originally thought he could easily handle it, but omega bodies naturally became fond of the alpha that marked them. Within just half a day, Shi Chan noticed his liking for Xi Ming seemed to have increased a little.

Shi Chan wasn’t resistant to this change. In fact, when Xi Ming entered the room, Shi Chan had even thought, if Xi Ming were to mark him permanently today… he probably wouldn’t refuse.

However, a permanent mark would mean he would have to stay with Xi Ming forever. Shi Chan bit his lip, thinking about Xi Ming’s body.

This world had advanced medical technology, and many terminal illnesses that Shi Chan had seen among mortals in the cultivation world were considered small illnesses here and could be easily cured. But cosmic radiation wasn’t one of them.

Cosmic radiation was a term for the unknown energies in the universe. Some of these unknown energies were beneficial, while others, like with Xi Ming, eroded the body, causing various diseases that ultimately led to death.

Most cosmic radiation couldn’t be completely removed with current medical technology. The radiation energy that stayed in the body would continue emitting energy, eroding the patient’s body and shortening their lifespan, making it an incurable disease in this era.

Shi Chan recalled the information he had found earlier, continuously thinking about it.

The radiation energy inside Xi Ming’s body couldn’t be cured with scientific methods, so… what about methods from the cultivation world?

If it had been another alpha he met for the first time, Shi Chan definitely wouldn’t show any cultivation-related methods in front of them.

But Xi Ming’s status in Shi Chan’s heart was different from other alphas. Shi Chan wanted Xi Ming to recover.

Of course, it was too early to think about recovery; Shi Chan only had some ideas. He knew some ways to heal from injuries in the cultivation world, but he wasn’t sure if they would be effective for Xi Ming.

Shi Chan could only say that he would try his best. If none of the methods he knew worked, the only thing he could do was stay with Xi Ming during the remaining time, using his omega’s mental energy to soothe and ease the pain as much as possible.

Shi Chan gently pressed the bite mark on his neck, suppressing these thoughts for now. He got out of bed, found the home wear clothes he had brought, took a shower, and then sat back on the bed in his new room, closing his eyes and starting his meditation.

The Next Morning.

Shi Chan finished his meditation feeling refreshed and reached for the personal terminal beside his pillow.

The terminal’s indicator light blinked slowly. Shi Chan opened the screen and saw the missed call notifications with names and times, giving a small smile.

He used the terminal to control the curtains, which slowly opened, and the light in the room gradually brightened. Shi Chan called back.

“Beep—” The moment the call rang once, it was answered, likely because the other person had been waiting by the terminal.

“Chan Chan!” Lan Ying’s voice immediately came through the terminal, worry unmasked in his tone, “Are you okay? Why did you go to the Xi family so quickly? Did he do anything to you?”

“I’m fine.” Shi Chan didn’t hurry to get up, leaning lazily on the soft pillow while talking.

“That’s good,” Lan Ying seemed to relax a little, then muttered softly, “Chan Chan, even though your parents gave up the extension opportunity for you, you went to the Xi family so fast! When I saw your message yesterday, I was startled. I was thinking if I couldn’t contact you, I’d have to contact the omega protection association.”

“I cut off relations with Shi Wen. I came to the Xi family on my own.” Lan Ying was Shi Chan’s best friend in this world, and Shi Chan hadn’t planned to hide it from him.

“What?!” Lan Ying exclaimed. However, the two of them had practically grown up together, and he understood some of the circumstances surrounding Shi Chan’s family. He quickly understood from Shi Chan’s perspective and even comforted him, “It’s fine to cut ties. Your parents really aren’t responsible.”

Shi Chan smiled a little, leaning on the bed as he chatted with Lan Ying.

Because of Shi Chan’s attitude, Lan Ying hadn’t been paying much attention to Xi Ming in recent years. Only in the last few days did he check Xi Ming’s news on the star network—

Xi Ming’s former glory seemed to be buried in forgotten memories. The star network was filled with negative news about Xi Ming, with tags like violent, cold, and aggressive. Even though he knew the insults weren’t aimed at him, the malicious energy coming from it nearly suffocated the sensitive Lan Ying.

After seeing the news about Xi Ming injuring a servant recently, Lan Ying became worried about Shi Chan.

Lan Ying had grown up with Shi Chan, and he always thought that Shi Chan’s temperament was a bit too gentle for an omega—never fighting back, indifferent to provocations from other alphas or omegas, as if he never got angry.

If Xi Ming really was as violent and abusive as the star network claimed, Lan Ying was very worried that Shi Chan wouldn’t resist and would silently endure.

However, after talking to Shi Chan, Lan Ying felt a little relieved. Shi Chan’s tone was the same as always, so he should not have been mistreated. Still, Lan Ying couldn’t help but advise him.

“Chan Chan…” Lan Ying lowered his voice, looking troubled, “You and Xi Ming… um, if you’re being forced, you can still divorce after two years… During these two years, try not to let him mark you…”

AO pairs who were matched and forced into marriage had to stay together for at least two years before they could apply for divorce. After a divorce, the omega wouldn’t be allowed to enter the matching system again unless they applied themselves.

If Shi Chan wanted freedom, there was still a chance to delay things for those two years.

Shi Chan was aware of this rule, but…

“Forget it.” Before Lan Ying could ask, Shi Chan spoke first, “I think he’s fine.”

Lan Ying didn’t understand, his tone rising in surprise, “Fine?”

“Mm.” On the terminal, Shi Chan smiled, but his next words startled Lan Ying, “I established a temporary mark with him yesterday.”

“What?!” Lan Ying exclaimed, concern and urgency flooding his mind, and immediately his dissatisfaction with Xi Ming rose—marking someone after the first meeting? Was this alpha afraid the omega would run away?

Lan Ying’s speech sped up, “But his body… Chan Chan, what about your mating cycle in the future!”

Although it wasn’t said outright, everyone assumed that Xi Ming couldn’t live long. Having suffered such severe injuries, and with his body unable to recover from cosmic radiation, even though Xi Ming had once been the healthiest alpha in the empire, it would be a miracle if he lived for five years. His body might collapse at any time due to radiation.

Lan Ying had grown up with Shi Chan, and naturally wanted his friend to be happy. He didn’t care about the identity, status, or wealth of Shi Chan’s future alpha, and even if the other person liked Shi Chan, he could overlook their character flaws, but he couldn’t overlook their lifespan.

All omegas knew this well—they couldn’t live without an alpha.

Between AOs, omega was always the weaker side. Physically, they were restricted by alphas—after being marked by an alpha, omegas would enter a monthly mating cycle, and only the alpha who marked them could alleviate the mating cycle—making the few omegas naturally inclined to choose an alpha when looking for a mate.

Alphas helped omegas through their cycles, while omegas helped alphas soothe their mental energy. On the surface, they seemed a perfect match. However, once separated, the omega’s weakness would be exposed—

When an alpha leaves an omega, the effect is minimal. They can freely mark another omega, while the marked omega needs the specific alpha to get through their mating cycle.

There are indeed mating inhibitors on the market for omegas, but using them is not pleasant. It’s bearable in small doses, but long-term use can cause mental problems for the omega.

At least, the omegas Lan Ying knew who had to rely on inhibitors for long periods didn’t have great mental states.

There are a few exceptions, of course—some omegas who use inhibitors for a long time and still remain mentally sharp, living fulfilling lives and careers, and they are idols to many omegas.

But to be honest, most omegas aren’t that strong.

Lan Ying, who had played with Shi Chan since childhood, was very similar to him in temperament—lazy and indulged in pleasure.

Lan Ying didn’t think he could live long on inhibitors, and he didn’t think Shi Chan, who was even lazier than he was, could tolerate the pain of inhibitors.