After Little Sweet Omega Runs with the Ball - Chapter 43

With a surge of strength beneath her foot, the Alpha let out a muffled groan.

Song Shuangtian acted as if she couldn’t hear the Alpha’s pained, restrained voice. She increased the pressure, her foot pressing firmly against Ji Mingxue’s abdomen. She wanted to move higher, but her ankle was suddenly seized by Ji Mingxue.

The blanket covering her body slid to the deck, revealing her figure in a light bikini. The Omega’s skin was incredibly fair; under the natural light, she looked like a piece of flawless, warm jade.

“Tiantian,” Ji Mingxue said helplessly, “Aren’t you cold like this?”

Song Shuangtian pointed toward the dazzling morning sun on the horizon. “Not cold.”

In fact, it was a bit hot.

Song Shuangtian knew exactly what Ji Mingxue was getting at, but why should she do things according to the Alpha’s wishes? She knew Ji Mingxue was harboring messy thoughts.

She was depraved. She craved her body.

A half-smile played on Song Shuangtian’s lips. “Nice clothes. I like them.”

Ji Mingxue: “It is my honor to receive a guest’s appreciation.”

Song Shuangtian hooked her finger around the glass containing the Cosmopolitan. The pink liquid flowed between her lips and tongue; the scent of alcohol was wrapped in a sweet and sour flavor, making it easy to finish a large glass without noticing.

Ji Mingxue’s eyes darkened. “I wonder how the guest finds the taste?”

Song Shuangtian raised her eyebrows high. “Not great.”

Ji Mingxue: “.”

“Can you bartenders just touch guests whenever you want?” Song Shuangtian said. “I’m going to complain about you.”

After speaking, Song Shuangtian tried to pull her right foot out of Ji Mingxue’s hand, but no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t break free. Her ankle was held fast by Ji Mingxue; her struggle looked exactly like a cat being restrained.

“Ji Mingxue!”

The Omega flushed with anger. If she were a cat right now, her big pinecone tail would be puffed up.

Song Shuangtian’s ankles were very slender, easily encircled by a single hand. Ji Mingxue’s thumb rubbed against the inner side of her ankle; a light touch was enough to leave a red mark.

The Omega’s pheromones began to diffuse through the salty scent of the seawater, carrying a hint of soul-stirring alcohol. Ji Mingxue pulled Song Shuangtian’s foot closer, rapidly closing the distance between them.

The Alpha gently brushed her nose against Song Shuangtian’s neck, seeking to breathe in more of the gifts from the Omega’s gland. She couldn’t enjoy her dessert yet, but she could smell it first.

Song Shuangtian felt her skin crawl at the way she was being carefully sniffed. They were too close, yet aside from grabbing her ankle, Ji Mingxue hadn’t done anything out of line. The bitter orange fragrance seemed to wrap around the Alpha’s body like a living thing, tempting her to do something irrational.

Song Shuangtian could feel Ji Mingxue’s breath lingering at the crook of her neck.

“Have you smelled enough!”

Song Shuangtian snapped in embarrassment, “Ji Mingxue! Do you know what you look like right now?”

Ji Mingxue blinked innocently. “What?”

Song Shuangtian: “A pervert.”

Ji Mingxue: “.”

While Ji Mingxue was off guard, Song Shuangtian yanked her ankle from her palm, downed the rest of her drink, and took a coin from her handbag, tossing it into the glass with a clink.

“Your tip.”

The Omega walked away haughtily. Ji Mingxue looked at her empty palm, a curve forming at the corner of her mouth. The Alpha was too experienced; she knew exactly where Song Shuangtian’s limit was, and she wouldn’t cross that red line.

The tuxedo-clad Alpha skillfully cleaned the glass and hooked the coin from the dregs of the drink. She pressed the cold coin to her lips and kissed it.

With her ankles still flushed red, a huffy Song Shuangtian leaned back in a lounge chair. She crossed her legs, freely displaying her graceful figure. She noticed Ji Mingxue had tried to touch her stomach earlier, which she had skillfully dodged.

Song Shuangtian placed her fingers on her belly. No matter how well she maintained it, if one looked closely, there were still some less-than-perfect marks. Bearing a child required a price, though because she was wealthy, she could use the most expensive treatments to restore her body toward perfection.

Still, modern medicine has its limits. It could never be exactly as it was before.

“Beautiful lady, are you here alone?”

A voice sounded from behind her. Song Shuangtian only opened her left eye to glance at the person, ignoring the attempt to strike up a conversation. She was irritable; no matter how she rubbed it, the red mark on her right ankle remained obvious, and the sensation of the Alpha’s touch still lingered on her skin.

Ji Mingxue had touched every inch of her ankle. How strange!

A short-haired female Alpha sat in the lounge chair next to her, scanning Song Shuangtian’s superior figure. The gaze felt tangible—greasy and disgusting. Song Shuangtian frowned and pulled a blanket over herself.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you here alone? Do you have a partner, sister?”

Sister? Song Shuangtian looked at her with a half-smile and arched brows. She wasn’t some girl in her teens or early twenties who could be easily picked up.

“I don’t just have a partner; I have a child.”

The expression of the short-haired Alpha froze for a second, a stiff smile appearing on her face. “You’re joking. You’re so beautiful, how could you have a child?”

Song Shuangtian: “Since when can you not be beautiful after having a child?”

The female Alpha was choked by the response, her expression turning ugly. She adjusted herself, her greasy gaze intensifying as if trying to find proof on Song Shuangtian’s stomach.

She had seen perverts before, but never one this blatant.

“Your ankle is red. I can rub it for you. Don’t worry, my technique is very good; you’ll be satisfied.”

“A beautiful Omega like you must find it boring to only stay with one Alpha.”

With the alcohol steaming in her blood, Song Shuangtian was becoming drowsy. There was a watery shimmer in her eyes, and her cheeks were slightly flushed, making her more radiant than ever. As the alcohol raised her body temperature, she tossed the blanket aside. Before the woman could step forward to continue her advance, someone’s presence blocked her view.

A woman in a tuxedo appeared. Before she could even speak, an extremely powerful and chilling magnolia pheromone suppressed the stranger like a violent storm.

Ji Mingxue said coolly, “What, you won’t even spare a young mother?”

“I—! And who are you?”

None of the guests on the Golden Queen were simple. Although Ji Mingxue was dressed like a bartender, the fabric and cut of her tuxedo weren’t something an ordinary person could afford.

“Me? I’m the mother of her child.”

As Ji Mingxue said this, her eyes narrowed into a satisfied curve.

The short-haired Alpha: “…”

Ji Mingxue: “Now get lost.”

Ji Mingxue’s aura was so overwhelming that the interloper fled in disgrace.

The Alpha knelt on one knee, poured a cool medicinal liniment into her palm, rubbed it until it was warm, and then applied it to the ankle she had reddened.

A half-drunk Song Shuangtian kicked at her but failed to escape Ji Mingxue’s grip. She ended up glaring at her fiercely. Ji Mingxue was glared at so intensely she nearly entered her rut. She allowed Song Shuangtian’s foot to press against her chest. The toes exerted force, revealing the dark blue veins on the bridge of the foot.

Like a knight serving a haughty and capricious princess.

Just as Song Shuangtian was about to call her a pervert again, the phone on the lounge chair buzzed. The call connected, and Yuan Yin’s voice immediately came through.

“I just did a Tarot reading for you. Something bad is going to happen to you recently.”

Song Shuangtian: “Like meeting an Alpha who wants to grope me? Because I’ve already met one.”

Yuan Yin: “…Perhaps it will be a bit more serious.”

Song Shuangtian: “Then I guess the Alpha who wants to grope me is Ji Mingxue. I’ve met her too.”

Ji Mingxue, who was currently providing “services” to the noble young lady, looked up and was glared at by Song Shuangtian again.

Yuan Yin explained that the “bad thing” probably didn’t refer to romance, but she couldn’t explain clearly—she just told Song Shuangtian to stay safe.

After the call ended, Song Shuangtian lay back on the lounge chair, her peach-colored sunglasses on the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes to rest.

Ji Mingxue’s handiwork was indeed excellent, but she was prone to pushing her luck—the massage moved from the ankle to the calf, then the knee, then the thigh, and finally, her palm was pressed against her abdomen.

“Miss Bartender is quite multi-talented,” Song Shuangtian remarked. “If M Group ever goes bankrupt, I suppose you could make a living with your skills.”

Ji Mingxue: “It doesn’t matter if M Group goes bankrupt. I am the Secretary to the Chairperson of Reborn. That isn’t a low-ranking position.”

Song Shuangtian thought to herself that she was truly adaptable; few people could match her thick skin.

It had to be said that Ji Mingxue’s technique was good. Song Shuangtian was lulled into a drowse. Seagulls flapped their wings across the sky, and the salty scent of the waves filled her nose; the Alpha beside her greatly eased the exhaustion from her recent work.

“If you’re tired, sleep for a while.”

Ji Mingxue placed her warm hand over Song Shuangtian’s eyes. Giving birth and raising a child alone without the company of an Alpha’s pheromones meant facing work several times more tedious than before. No one could help her with any of it.

Song Shuangtian drifted off under the influence of the alcohol. She felt tired.

When she first left M Group, she thought she might never have anything to do with Ji Mingxue again in this life—that they were just a passing affair. She got what she wanted, and Ji Mingxue got the pheromones to ease her rut; it was a practical trade. But feelings can’t be calculated like that.

She got pregnant, and she didn’t—as she had imagined then—let the child live a life forever without a mother.

Song Shuangtian was “barren”; she had lived in a world without the love of a father or mother since childhood. Only her aunt accompanied her, but her aunt’s health was poor, taking more medicine than food. Little Song Shuangtian had learned to be sensible and not cause trouble for her family.

She wanted to prove herself, to prove to everyone that she could shoulder the dynasty her mother had built. In the end, it was all for naught; nothing was left.

She was truly jealous of Ji Mingxue—jealous that Ji Mingxue could have all of her mother’s love. Ji Mingxue was not lacking in love, yet she still took away the maternal love that should have belonged to Song Shuangtian.

Love flows to those who do not lack it. What a greedy person Ji Mingxue was.

In her drunken sleep, Song Shuangtian’s brows were furrowed tight. The alcohol pulled her into a deep nightmare. A shabby old building, a cold father who wouldn’t spare her a glance, and a mother’s voice that only ever appeared in hurried, hung-up phone calls.

In the deepest part of the dream, a piano melody flowed past her ears. Song Shuangtian couldn’t quite understand Cantonese, but she could grasp the general meaning. In the thickest part of the crowd, the piano keys struck out strings of notes, and a woman’s singing rushed toward her, wrapped in the waves.

“…”

“Wondering who I might meet.”

“Will you hold me, kiss me, will the spring breeze blow through me?”

“Will you hold me, kiss me, is it you, my tulip?”

“Will you hold me, kiss me, is this the love that poems and songs praise?”

Song Shuangtian slowly opened her eyes to find a pink fuzzy blanket draped over her. Still half-dazed, she looked toward the piano on the deck. There was Ji Mingxue, gazing at her while singing.

A crowd had gathered around the piano, snapping photos and recording videos. Within seconds, the image of Ji Mingxue playing the piano would surely sweep across the internet.

As a second-generation socialite, Ji Mingxue knew exactly how to pull at the heartstrings of the person she loved. Many thoughts flashed through Song Shuangtian’s mind, yet ultimately, it felt as though her mind was a blank. The moment she opened her eyes, she met Ji Mingxue’s soulful gaze.

The singing was too sweet, almost unlike something Ji Mingxue would sing. A phone sat on the music stand, displaying piano sheet music and lyrics; it seemed Ji Mingxue had learned the song on the spot.

Song Shuangtian knew clearly that Ji Mingxue wanted her to be happy and wanted to give her a beautiful vacation. She knew, beyond a doubt, that her Alpha was courting her.

Wrapping the pink blanket around herself, Song Shuangtian walked barefoot toward her. Outside, the sky was ablaze with the glow of sunset, and the shadows of the red-billed gulls were stretched long across the deck. As the final note of the piano faded, Ji Mingxue walked up to Song Shuangtian under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

She handed her a bouquet of passionate red roses.

The onlookers cheered and whistled, clapping loudly and waving their phone flashes. Song Shuangtian felt a slight headache coming on. “Ji Mingxue, you…”

Ji Mingxue: “Today isn’t a holiday, an anniversary, or even a weekend. I just wanted to sing for you.”

Her words were disjointed, but the intent was clear: she wanted to sing for her, to make her happy.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Before Song Shuangtian could process it, the fiery roses were pressed into her arms. “You said you’d give me a chance to pursue you. I intend to make the most of it.”

Song Shuangtian looked at her quietly. Unlike the cheering crowd, she remained remarkably calm. “Are you trying to make up for the past?”

“If you’re trying to compensate for the affection my mother owed me, I can tell you now—I’ve let it go. What’s past is past. Perhaps I would have brooded over it before, but now I’ve achieved more than my mother ever did.”

Song Shuangtian said coldly: “Those are pages of history that can be turned. Sometimes I’m even grateful for that environment; it made me who I am today. One always learns something from hardship. In that regard, perhaps I should actually thank my mother.”

Her voice was low, audible only to Ji Mingxue. The sweetness of the Cantonese song still seemed to linger in the air between them.

Ji Mingxue had changed out of her tuxedo into an incredibly vibrant red dress, as if competing with the roses to see which was more radiant. She felt a bit of a headache; she did want to make things up to Song Shuangtian. But the reason she wanted to compensate her was simply because she loved her.

Maybe it started when the resignation letter was thrown in her face, or when a cup of coffee was handed to her in the office, or the first time she saw Song Shuangtian’s work, or even just a fleeting glance in a corridor. Or perhaps it was when they met as children. Without her even realizing it, this love was predestined.

Love starts from nowhere, but runs deep.

“My heart aches for you,” Ji Mingxue said.

Song Shuangtian froze. Ji Mingxue gently pulled her into an embrace. “What am I going to do? My Tiantian really knows how to make someone’s heart ache. I thought I’d made my feelings clear enough.”

Ji Mingxue sighed. “It has to be you. Only you.”

Song Shuangtian gritted her teeth, not entirely satisfied with this answer.

“It’s alright,” Ji Mingxue continued. “Tiantian can keep evaluating me. Just put me at the top of your ‘Pending Wife’ list.”

Song Shuangtian was teased into a laugh. “There’s a list like that?”

“The list doesn’t matter. I just want the top spot.”

The massive fortress of the sea sailed into remote waters, the distant lights of developed coastal cities shimmering on the horizon. The endless, dark water was a terrifying playground, but a night where one could see the shore was not so frightening.

On the third night of the cruise, Song Shuangtian met the Captain. He was an older man who bore a resemblance to her aunt. Upon meeting him, she learned that the Captain was her aunt’s cousin. Technically, Song Shuangtian should call him “Uncle.”

It was then that she discovered her aunt was one of the shareholders of this cruise line and intended to gift those shares to her.

Ji Mingxue said with a complex expression, “It seems I am the one ‘marrying up’ now.”

Song Shuangtian, just realizing her sudden wealth, nodded. “Indeed.”

Ji Mingxue: “…M Group actually planned to expand into cruise and maritime business.”

However, as a newcomer trying to take a piece of the pie, they would inevitably be pushed out by established families—like the company behind the Golden Queen. Consequently, that business branch had never taken off. A rare look of embarrassment appeared on the proud Alpha’s face. Song Shuangtian laughed uncontrollably.

As for the Golden Queen wanting to collaborate with Reborn, Song Shuangtian was happy to facilitate it. The negotiation went smoothly. Her uncle liked her instantly. Unlike her aunt, he hadn’t stayed single by choice; he had loved an Omega woman in his youth who had tragically passed away in a shipwreck. He had been alone ever since.

The Captain pointed out the route on a map as the ship passed through a strait. Ji Mingxue poured a glass of mulled wine for Song Shuangtian, and the two leaned against each other as they listened.

Before leaving, the Captain looked at Ji Mingxue several times. “You look familiar. You are…?”

Ji Mingxue introduced herself: “I am Song Shuangtian’s girlfriend.”

The wine glass in the Captain’s hand snapped.

Song Shuangtian nudged Ji Mingxue with her elbow and said, “She’s the President of M Group. We’re planning a collaboration with Reborn, so she came aboard with me to take a look.”

The Captain’s expression relaxed slightly, but his gaze toward Ji Mingxue became scrutinizing, like a farmer looking at a wild boar trying to steal his prize cabbage. Rarely subjected to such a look, Ji Mingxue forced a “good girl” smile, though it looked awkward no matter how you sliced it.

The Captain believed Song Shuangtian was the most talented of her generation. While the acquisition of ST Group was a pity, sometimes you have to break things to build them better; the Reborn dynasty would be built by Song Shuangtian’s own hands. M Group had turned ST into the “Shuang” series, which, compared to her father’s mindless imitation of trends, actually captured some of the early retro-elegant style. It showed some sincerity.

The Captain gave a neutral grunt. “Go on and have fun.” He then stared at Ji Mingxue with hawk-like eyes. “I heard you got Song Shuangtian pregnant.”

Ji Mingxue suddenly felt as if needles were pricking her back. She lowered her head obediently. “Yes. I am raising the child now. She will be the sole heir to M Group; I will have no other children.”

The Captain’s gaze softened by two degrees, but he still looked pained about the “cabbage.” “I hope you keep your word. Otherwise…”

Ji Mingxue knew the unspoken threat: otherwise, M Group could forget about doing business on the sea. The Qiu family’s ships would take Song Shuangtian to the ends of the earth.

“I will.”

Leaving the Captain’s quarters, Ji Mingxue was drenched in sweat. Song Shuangtian teased, “What? Scared?”

Ji Mingxue said helplessly, “Of course I’m scared. Your uncle’s hand was already on his shotgun.”

Song Shuangtian laughed heartily. The sweet scent of mulled wine lingered on their breath as she pulled Ji Mingxue to the deck to catch the breeze. In the depths of the night, Song Shuangtian suddenly felt a terrible premonition.

A gale suddenly whipped across the sea, and the deck beneath her feet began to sway violently. Most passengers had retired to their rooms, leaving only the two of them on deck. Without warning, a wave two or three stories high surged toward them! Such waves weren’t uncommon in the deep ocean, but they were incredibly rare so close to the coast.

Rain began to pour, followed by a sudden barrage of hail. Then, the seawater crashed down—

Song Shuangtian’s pupils contracted. She tried to pull Ji Mingxue toward the cabin, but suddenly, everything went black. The ship was in the strait, with no shore in sight and no lights on the water. Without light to orient them, it felt as if they were suspended in a void.

The ship had lost power.

Most guests were asleep and unaware, but a few were startled and tried to run out, only to be told to remain in their cabins. The ship’s rocking grew more violent. Song Shuangtian couldn’t even stand; Ji Mingxue grabbed her without hesitation, pinning her against the wall in a narrow stairwell.

Furniture and debris on the deck slid back and forth, making a screeching sound. Hail and rain lashed Ji Mingxue’s back. The ship was listing too far to allow them to climb the stairs.

Narrow spaces were safer. Song Shuangtian said with a bitter smile, “We won’t hit an iceberg, will we?”

Ji Mingxue shielded her from the icy rain with her back, the hail hitting the nape of her neck. “There are no icebergs at this latitude.”

“Ah!” Song Shuangtian screamed. A wave four stories high crashed against the ship. The giant cruise liner now felt like a leaf in a vast ocean. Song Shuangtian closed her eyes in despair, clinging to Ji Mingxue. She was so cold.

“Ji Mingxue, Yuan Yin said we’d be in danger.”

Ji Mingxue: “…” She finally understood why the Yuan family had prospered for so long.

Fortunately, the turbulence lasted only half an hour. Shielded by Ji Mingxue, Song Shuangtian wasn’t hurt at all. When the waves finally calmed, the lights suddenly flickered back on.

Song Shuangtian squinted. She was soaked through with seawater, shivering with cold. Ji Mingxue was in worse shape. There was a bloody gash on her back, the blood staining her red dress so it was hard to tell how deep the wound was.

Rescue teams arrived quickly. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief once it was confirmed there were no casualties. The power outage due to severe weather and generator failure left many passengers shaken. As compensation, all ticket fees were waived. Between the refunds and the lack of injuries, most people were understanding.

…

“Hiss—ow, ow, ow!”

Song Shuangtian used tweezers to dab the wound with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. Ji Mingxue winced. “Maybe you could use Betadine? Betadine doesn’t sting.”

Song Shuangtian said crossly, “Why did you have to stand in front of me!”

“My body moved faster than my brain. I couldn’t help it.”

Ji Mingxue’s back had been slashed by broken porcelain. She hadn’t felt it then, but looking at it now was terrifying—a gash as long as a forearm stretched across her flesh, nearly hitting her spine. Song Shuangtian couldn’t imagine what would have happened if something sharper had pierced her.

A gentleman does not stand under a crumbling wall. Why did this idiot run toward danger!

Song Shuangtian tossed the blood-soaked cotton ball and let the professional medical staff take over. Ji Mingxue was the most severely injured person on the ship.

The Alpha used her clothes to cover her front, exposing her entire back to the medical staff and Song Shuangtian. her long hair, wet from the sea, hung like seaweed by her ears, and her face was pale from blood loss.

She looked quite pitiful.

Song Shuangtian leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, not daring to look at the wound. A boat would arrive in half an hour to take them off; Ji Mingxue’s wound needed stitches at a hospital.

“What are you holding?” Ji Mingxue asked, trying to distract herself. If Song Shuangtian wasn’t the one treating the wound, there was no need to act tough.

Song Shuangtian was clutching a rose with falling petals. “A flower. You owe me a fresh bouquet once we’re ashore.” She turned her face away and whispered, “I shouldn’t have dragged you to the deck to see the moon.”

The moon that night had been beautiful. Song Shuangtian wanted to tell her never to stand in front of her like that again, but she knew Ji Mingxue wouldn’t listen.

Ji Mingxue wanted to give something back to her. Neither of them continued that topic.

“Alright. I will pick the most vibrant roses for you. When the time comes, I hope the Chairperson will accept the lost ‘glass slipper’.”

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