Chapter 17 1/2

In backlight, Alpha’s distinct and handsome silhouette is outlined; his clavicle and arms are covered by a thick winter suit, adorned with a soft glow.

Jiang Li is unaware of what the Alpha in the underground city looks like, and it’s probably for the best. Yet he’s acutely aware of the width of the shoulders against which he leans, the suppressive feeling of interlocked hands, the angles accidentally hitting the throat and jaw, and the roughness of the stubble when their ears brush.

All he needs is to hold that hand to identify the calluses at the base of his tiger’s mouth.

Jiang Li suddenly feels a bit unsteady, his eyelashes trembling and his feet softening as he reaches for his backpack.

Cen Lang beats him to it, lifting the backpack and placing it on his own leg. “Aren’t you obsessed with cleanliness? Don’t put the bag on the ground.”

With the motion of taking the bag, Cen Lang quickly locks onto a board that seems to be effervescent potassium permanganate tablets.

What…

Like antacid tablets?

Cen Lang’s eyes are obscure and unclear. “Not digesting well recently?”

Jiang Li adjusts himself calmly, his gaze steady. “Yeah, I keep some because I’m used to drinking nutritional supplements.”

People who drink nutritional supplements for an extended period tend to have a slightly weakened ability to digest regular food. Jiang Li follows Cen Lang in consuming rich and meaty dishes, but the elevation in quality is rapid, causing discomfort in the stomach.

However, it seems that the concerns didn’t materialise, perhaps because he had been drinking honey-infused nutritional supplements to nurture his stomach before.

His congee is just a shallow satisfaction of his appetite; he doesn’t intend to derive much nutrition from it. For true prenatal nutritional intake, he’ll have to rely on free supplements from the medical station a month later.

Jiang Li takes out a large adhesive bandage from his bag and tears it open, sticking it at the base of Cen Lang’s thumb.

Cen Lang has an iron stomach himself; he drinks nutritional supplements during missions and can endure hunger for several days. There’s usually someone responsible for meals, and they alternate between two situations, not sticking to a fixed diet.

He shouldn’t have taken Jiang Li to eat a big meal on their first outing.

Suspecting antacid tablets as potassium permanganate, Cen Lang feels uneasy about himself.

If Jiang Li is the carer who received a reward of $50,000, which is a small sum for Cen Lang but significant for a financially struggling student, his diet doesn’t seem reflective of someone with that amount.

If Jiang Li is indeed the carer, and Cen Lang’s offer of twenty million for a vial of pheromones has been reduced to fifty thousand… Cen Lang chuckles, thinking about dealing with each “middleman” on this line with a pheromone storm.

“Sorry, I didn’t consider that.”

Jiang Li responds, “It’s not your concern; it’s my choice.”

He cleans the tweezers and returns them to the toolbox, slowly organising his backpack before zipping it up. Despite the cold wind, he breaks into a layer of sweat on his back.

If Cen Lang is the Alpha in question, everything starts to make sense.

Why he doesn’t have pheromone dependency.

Why did he seemingly cure the military’s illness but receive a critical condition notice?

Why does Cen Lang have such significant access to military academies?

Because he encounters his marked Alpha every day.

Because Cen Lang is setting traps to lure the enemy in, possibly including this carer.

Because Cen Lang is the finest commander in the space force, he is a crucial defence line for the federation.

These days, Cen Lang wears a mask and sunglasses when in public, claiming it’s due to his inability to show his face as he should be lying in wait in the underground city.

But… Is it really just a coincidence? That a random intern team leader is the Alpha he has interacted intimately with?

Jiang Li often frequents the laboratory, with few friends aside from a few classmates. If Cen Lang is that Alpha, they can’t meet again to avoid exposure.

He needs concrete evidence and hopes Cen Lang isn’t the one.

Cen Lang watches Jiang Li organise, asking knowingly, “What are you doing here?”

Jiang Li explains, “My supervisor… Professor Wang, got reported for bribery and suspended pending investigation. The dean assigned me a new lab, and I’m getting the keys from the vice dean.”

Jiang Li doesn’t want to elaborate on the disgusting process of Jiang Lu’s threats.

Cen Lang offers, “How’s the equipment in the new lab? I can help you borrow an external one.”

Jiang Li replies, “Tianchen Lab is the most powerful medical laboratory globally, with many records. The dean said I can access them.”

Cen Lang nods slightly; this old guy does have some sincerity in retaining talent.

Jiang Li looks down, observing Cen Lang’s palm. The injury seems deliberate, like the scars a toddler might get from falling on cement. With Cen Lang’s skill, he wouldn’t have fallen on level ground. He came from the administrative building; there shouldn’t be any injuries from falling down stairs.

Is Cen Lang starting to suspect him and test him?

Jiang Li suddenly recalls his recurring obsession with disinfection. Would the Alpha remember only this painful moment and forget everything else? Luckily, he resisted the urge to wipe too many times just now.

He wonders if Cen Lang will find potassium permanganate in his bag. He used it last time and hasn’t restocked. Jiang Li reluctantly abandons the large and inexpensive disinfectant.

Cen Lang, seemingly engrossed in a proposal in the bag, asks, “Are you considering cooperating with the Jiang family on adenoma drugs?”

Jiang Li replies, “I thought about it before, but now I have access to Tianchen Lab.”

Cen Lang remains calm, thinking to inform Jiang Wanlan tomorrow. After all, he has money, and if cooperation doesn’t work, he can always pay.

“Lang, why are you still here?” Principal Zhang emerges from his office, imposing with a martial build and exuding a commanding presence.

Someone “nearing death” in societal terms, openly engaged in arguments in broad daylight. What kind of talk is that?

Principal Zhang takes a closer look and recognises the other student, Jiang Li. He remembers her awarding him a scholarship at the school’s graduate opening ceremony two and a half years ago.

Originally, based on academic performance, Jiang Li should have stood in the front row, receiving personal encouragement and a photo with the principal.