Chapter 37

*Sleep*
Bai Shuzhou had not shown her true strength for so long that many had forgotten how terrifying her gift could be.
The last time Gloriel had seen her was at the opera house.
Crystal chandeliers poured golden light over dome and walls—silent power flowing. The empire’s greatest nobles and officials took their seats in splendid dress.
Gloriel’s family had just released a new vaccine and sat in the best viewing box, a handspan from the emperor; even the Fengs had to step back.
From that height they watched the slowly unfolding figure in pure white.
When those pale blue eyes opened, the costliest jewels became trinkets. Light haloed her as if she stood in unreal star-mist.
Her neck was beautiful and fragile, chin lifted with inborn pride.
Everyone held breath, eyes pulled to her alone. When the dance ended the emperor clapped first—three soft beats, lips curved in appreciation and fondness—and only then did the hall wake to thunderous applause.
The dancer seemed not to care. Expression cool, stingy—no extra glance for the audience. As if all passion had gone into the dance and only an empty shell remained for curtain call.
Frail, supple, elegant—Bai Shuzhou fulfilled every Alpha fantasy of an Omega.
The empire’s flawless rose. Even fine thorns made greedy schemers want to pluck her and cradle her in the palm.
But now those blue eyes were bright with pure killing intent.
Unpolished. Unhidden edge.
Gloriel stared blankly—then her head dropped first, knees hit floor, body shaking beyond control.
Hands on cold tile, she felt suffocating fear, air thin, rose scent ramming her belly, almost piercing through.
“Forgive me, Your Highness! I should not have entered without permission—I disturbed you!”
Gloriel shifted to beast form, teeth bloody, crawling, will barely holding consciousness from snapping.
How could an Omega’s scent carry such attack?
Pupils scattering, Gloriel still saw the stage Bai Shuzhou—slender, lovely—a trace of cool pheromone driving Alphas mad.
Bai Shuzhou asked coldly, “What else?”
“I—I should not have looked at you without leave…!” Pride shrank another inch.
Bai Shuzhou’s brow knit in disgust, eyes darker. Vines gripped Gloriel’s chin and forced her face up. “Apologize to Her Highness Zhu Yu.”
“Zhu Yu… Highness?” Gloriel echoed. Invisible fingers crushed her heart.
Kneeling to royalty was duty—but Zhu Yu was a peasant. How could she—
Humiliation made her cough blood again.
Bai Shuzhou sneered. “As long as the divorce is unsigned, she is still mine. How dare you insult her?”
“Gloriel—do you look down on Zhu Yu, or on me?”
The question was light, only the tail weighted—like an invisible blade rolling down rigid spine.
Memory snapped to eighteen-year-old Bai Shuzhou, who could not understand many things.
Seven years missing felt like a finger-snap, yet everyone’s gaze had changed worlds.
Special care. Subtle looks. A girl’s heart was sensitive; Bai Shuzhou knew what it meant.
She had been ill so long memory blurred and everything tangled.
Sister held her gently: Little Zhou, even if you present as Omega, Sister will protect and love you doubly—no one will hurt you again.
Gloriel was nearly flat on the floor, chin still forced up, fear and shame exposed. “Forgive me—I dare not!”
Feng Jiyan stood one hand behind her back, eyes flickering.
Bai Shuzhou’s moods were usually stable; even in experiments she restrained herself. A ruler learned to hide joy and anger.
One Zhu Yu should not have pushed her this far.
This looked less like loss of control—more like making an example of Gloriel.
Bai Qianze sending Bai Shuzhou’s memory back to eighteen might not have been wise.
Everyone hid schemes. Only Zhu Yu swallowed and stared at Bai Shuzhou without blinking.
God. So cool.
My wife. So cool.
Eyes bright when scolding—winter icicles, clear and sharp. Adorable.
Besides Sister, no one had defended her like this.
A few insults Zhu Yu had not minded. She had been angry about the crushed flowers—a gift for Bai Shuzhou.
Flowers never delivered; goal reached anyway. Next time more, prettier. If Bai Shuzhou liked, they could pick together in a garden—point and pluck.
She had taken the florist’s card—next purchase there. Small shop, fullest rose catalog in the stars, confident even the palace could not match.
Amid conspiracy Zhu Yu peeked at beast-form Gloriel and squeezed Bai Shuzhou’s hand. “Don’t be angry. You’ll only hurt yourself.”
In that grave scene Zhu Yu openly coaxed her.
Gloriel’s bloodshot eyes swung to Zhu Yu—all hate found a target.
All Zhu Yu’s fault. Without her, she would not be ruined.
She must have incited the princess, controlled her—climbed from the slums for power.
No matter how gifted, an Omega could be hormone-led. Yes—the life tree said Zhu Yu suited the princess—some trick, some bewitchment—
Pheromones. Her pheromones were wrong.
Gloriel’s glare was naked. Bai Shuzhou glanced once. Gloriel screamed, clutching eyes, crumpling aside.
Zhu Yu—scheming, vicious Alpha. How could an Omega attack so hard unless Zhu Yu sabotaged from shadow.
Else how could a D-rank commoner stand in the military, rise above nobles, become that fraud “People’s Star”?
Gloriel’s twist stalled. Could Zhu Yu have faked rank and scent—rose underneath?
Feng Jiyan sidestepped neatly, avoiding blood.
But chaos in the Academy could not be ignored.
Tail flicking, she pushed up her glasses and stepped forward. Zhu Yu nervously left the bed and straightened, blocking Bai Shuzhou.
This was Feng Jiyan’s mother—the old fox worse than the cub.
The woman raised her hand. Her aura was gentle; Zhu Yu’s racing heart slowed.
White coat, smile—Feng Jiyan felt less severe, closer. Zhu Yu thought of her own mother; wariness thinned.
“Your Highness, your state is unstable. Please do not use spirit force further.”
“It will worsen the condition. Relax—I will help—”
Zhu Yu looked at Bai Shuzhou. Only when permitted did she step aside—still close—watching white-gloved fingers touch Bai Shuzhou’s wrist light as taking a pulse.
Next second eyes behind the lenses became vertical slits. Feng Jiyan turned, blocking Zhu Yu. Cold breath lifted hem and hair.
Zhu Yu saw only that slender hand trembling, fingertips tight—frost forming—then rose scent fading with it.
Beautiful eyes last looked at Zhu Yu. Lids fell heavy.
“What did you do!” Zhu Yu lunged, catching the sliding arm.
“Easy. I only helped her rest.” Feng Jiyan spread her hands. “If we let an uncontrolled princess continue, she enters dissociation. None of us want that.”
“Your Highness Zhu Yu.” Feng Jiyan smiled, reached to pat—so level, no grand noble air.
Zhu Yu dodged.
Before snow leopards moved, masked researchers dragged limp Gloriel out.
She offered her hand again—formal invitation, level gaze respectful.
“Thank you for caring for Her Highness. The ill are tired and sensitive.”
“When she lost control before, only His Majesty could soothe her. You are the second.”
Tone like a kind elder, eyes on sleeping Bai Shuzhou in Zhu Yu’s arms.
Door closed. Feng Jiyan did not dismiss the knights; she looked Zhu Yu in the eye openly. “I have devoted my life to spirit research. Her illness grieves me. I am powerless.”
“Will you join Project Genesis and help us advance? It concerns the princess, the empire, the fate of the universe.”
Zhu Yu had almost taken the hand; at “research” she let go with an awkward laugh.
“I want to help, but you know—I’m a slum Alpha, rough, barely schooled. Better not.”
Feng Jiyan narrowed her eyes, did not press, stepped back. “Genesis targets genes and spirit force. Your public speech showed you care. I am glad.”
Gentle words raised gooseflesh—had they found her secret medical files?
But Feng Jiyan was magnanimous, brought it into the open, offered director-level access.
Zhu Yu’s pupils shook. She rubbed her hands, ashamed of suspecting a gentleman.
Feng Jiyan watched, mature calm on full display. “Any question—come to me anytime.”
Zhu Yu thought, shy lion opening mouth: “If she’s unstable, I want to live in the Academy—care for her anytime.”
Impractical. After a delicate silence Feng Jiyan glanced at Zhu Yu’s bitten lip and nodded with a smile. “Yes.”
Zhu Yu lit up. “Really?!”
“Yes. I will speak to His Majesty.” A soft blink. “He is busy—cannot stay at her side every hour.”
The boss was away.
If rank allowed, Zhu Yu would hug her hard.
No wonder she was director—breadth, vision.
So gentle—a mother. Feng Jiyan was lucky.
Next visit she would bring the prettiest flowers and a banner—
Outside, Feng Jiyan kept the gentle smile.
Feng Jiyan waited at the door. “Mother.”
Feng Jiyan strode without stopping, into a lab, peeled off the glove that had touched Zhu Yu, fed it to an instrument.
Beep—
Analysis on blue screen. Red headline: SSS+.
SSS+?!
Feng Jiyan rushed forward—then saw the lines below. Familiar data. Bai Shuzhou’s report. Only Bai Shuzhou’s.
How could an Alpha show zero response to a highly matched Omega scent?
Strange.
The machine was federation-grade precision—it could not confuse one person for two.
It had detected only Bai Shuzhou.
Silently, rose scent had wrapped Zhu Yu’s pheromones, eaten clean, left nothing to read.
The small “+” silenced mother and daughter.
Feng Jiyan said with difficulty, “Her Highness… grew stronger again.”
Talent’s gap was a chasm. The harder you chased, the clearer the despair.
Feng Jiyan laughed. “Perhaps the instrument updated and finally kept pace. Her Highness was always excellent.”
Open praise stabbed Feng Jiyan. Fists hid in sleeves.
Feng Jiyan never looked at her once.
As if all tenderness belonged to science and subjects—not her own daughter.
Feng Jiyan could not hold back. “Mother, why won’t you let me join Phoenix research?”
“Phoenix?” Feng Jiyan turned cold, corrected slowly. “Not Phoenix. AH-003.”
AH-003—an experimental subject number.
That gaze was ice. Disappointment in the brow. Feng Jiyan gritted her first defiance. “How can you be sure she is AH-003? Too hasty.”
Feng Jiyan looked at her like a sulking child. “Move AH-003 closer to the princess. Put Zhu Yu in the old room.”
Feng Jiyan raised her voice. “Why? You gave Zhu Yu director access—will you let her into the study?”
“What if Zhu Yu is AH-003?”
Bai Shuzhou was gifted, special—Feng Jiyan admitted inferiority. But Zhu Yu? Why was she exception?
D-rank stirrer—investigated countless times, no threat.
Zhu Yu’s speech had exposed human experiments; Feng Jiyan had done PR, saved the Academy, negotiated with the federation, recovered Phoenix and sensitive gear.
At the moment of harvest—why did Mother cut her out?
Never had she spoken to Mother like this.
Feng Jiyan smiled. A child’s anger was cute when harmless.
Patient answer: “No. Age does not match—bone tests. I trust data.”
“She is younger, resilient. We need variables.”
“Variables to control Bai Shuzhou.”
“Zhu Yu and AH-003 are both special to her, are they not?”
Perfect plan.
Night. Subordinates found Zhu Yu on monitor with difficulty.
She had changed into pajamas and lay beside Bai Shuzhou.
The bed was huge; even centered, room for Zhu Yu.
Blue fish pajamas on washed Zhu Yu; matching eye mask on Bai Shuzhou.
Bai Shuzhou slept light, often feigning sleep—pose elegant as a painting, hands crossed on her belly, sacred.
This sleep came sudden; Zhu Yu arranged her gently.
Pillow and quilt were Zhu Yu’s own. Without permission she kept polite distance.
Leaning on soft pillow, watching silver hair, her own tension rose fluffy as fresh golden bread.
Footsteps—Zhu Yu closed eyes, feigning sleep.
Too nervous—hand sketching brows dropped too fast; warm palm landed on Bai Shuzhou’s cold arm.
Quiet night. The visitor whispered, “Why is she sleeping here?”
Snow leopard answered, “Her Highness Zhu Yu said Director Feng agreed—will inform His Majesty. Nursing duty.”
“We heard the same.”
Sleeping in the princess’s room—was that not part of the Academy?
“……”
A suppressed, heavy sigh.
Zhu Yu wanted to laugh but held still—not even a brow twitch.
Eyes closed, skin where they touched had warmed together.