Pregnant with the Empress’s Alpha Heir - Chapter 16

Backstage, Ah Jiu saw Shu Da and Yu Zhihuai following them.

She glanced at Shu Da.

Shu Da quickly explained, “The livestream is already off. I told them I’d explain the situation after getting a full understanding.”

Yu Zhitao said, “Shu Da, thank you.”

Shu Da sighed. “No need to thank me.

“Actually, this is all my fault. If I hadn’t posted your video on the Star Network earlier, none of this would’ve happened.”

But Yu Zhitao shook her head. “No.

“Even without you, these people would’ve found out about me sooner or later. I should thank you for exposing this hidden problem early.”

Beside them, Yu Zhihuai couldn’t take it anymore.

He cut straight to the point and asked, “Big Sis, so was that guy telling the truth? Did you compose the sheet music yourself, or did you decipher an ancient guqin score?”

If not for what had just happened, Yu Zhitao might have considered lying.

But Ah Jiu had already spoken up for her, and she wouldn’t let Ah Jiu lose face.

So Yu Zhitao replied, “Just like Ah Jiu said, it’s an ancient guqin score.”

Yu Zhihuai scratched his head. “Since when did you know how to do this?”

Yu Zhitao lifted her chin. “It’s not like we’re glued together all the time. Since when I learned it is none of your business.”

With Ah Jiu standing firmly behind her, Yu Zhihuai shrank back and didn’t dare say more.

Seeing that the discussion was winding down, Ah Jiu spoke up. “We should head back now.

“This matter still needs confirmation from the Archaeology Institute. There’s no rushing it. You two should go home early too.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried authority. Shu Da and Yu Zhihuai nodded obediently and left.

However, Yu Zhitao caught the flaw in her words.

Back at their rented apartment, Yu Zhitao looked at Ah Jiu. “Ah Jiu, would the Archaeology Institute really bother with something this small?”

Ah Jiu paused, then nodded.

“The matter has already gained some traction. The Archaeology Institute will see it.

“Besides, deciphering ancient guqin scores is part of their job. You’ve already provided the answer, they’ll just reverse-engineer it and confirm the results soon.”

Yu Zhitao nodded.

Seeing she still looked worried, Ah Jiu added, “Don’t frown. This is a good thing.

“Once it’s confirmed that you’ve contributed to the Archaeology Institute, they’ll issue a reward. Then you won’t have to worry about money anymore.”

Yu Zhitao remained unmoved.

She flopped onto the sofa, idly playing with Xiao Jiu. Eventually, she turned to Ah Jiu and asked, “Ah Jiu, why do you believe in me so much?”

She had never been guarded around Ah Jiu, so when practicing the guqin, she had simply searched for sheet music online and played from it.

So it wasn’t surprising that Ah Jiu knew she was practicing ancient scores.

What surprised Yu Zhitao was that, even before the matter was settled, Ah Jiu had dared to stand up for her in front of everyone.

Ah Jiu looked at her strangely. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Yu Zhitao set Xiao Jiu aside and stepped closer.

“Even the Archaeology Institute wouldn’t dare confirm it outright, yet you just declared it as fact?”

Ah Jiu placed her hands on Yu Zhitao’s shoulders. “Instinct.”

Yu Zhitao froze for a moment.

Then she suddenly laughed. “What if your instinct is wrong this time?”

Ah Jiu replied, “It won’t be. I’ve never been wrong.”

Yu Zhitao forgot to breathe.

Overwhelmed with emotion, she buried herself in Ah Jiu’s arms.

Ah Jiu wasn’t accustomed to sudden embraces, her entire body stiffening as she grasped at Yu Zhitao’s clothes, trying to disentangle herself.

But the next moment, she heard Yu Zhitao’s soft whimpers.

“Wuwuwu, I was so scared, thank goodness you were there.” Yu Zhitao wrapped her arms tightly around Ah Jiu’s waist. “I felt so awkward back there, but when I saw you push through the crowd onto the stage, I suddenly felt like there was nothing to fear.”

Ah Jiu’s voice was dry. “There really wasn’t anything to be afraid of.”

She had never experienced anything like this before.

People had cried in front of her before, but back then, she would only feel disgust and coldly say, “Soldier, control your emotions.”

Was there really such a big difference between how Alphas and Omegas cried?

Ah Jiu pondered silently.

Yu Zhitao took some time to calm down, then bashfully apologized to Ah Jiu before slipping into the bathroom to freshen up.

Ah Jiu stared blankly at the damp stains on her clothes and sighed.

With Yu Zhitao gone, she walked over to the sofa.

Xiao Jiu had been circling her feet for a while and finally, when she sat down, leaped onto her lap, exposing its soft, white belly.

Ah Jiu helplessly reached out and rubbed it.

“You’re becoming more and more like her spoiled, yet hiding sharp teeth,” Ah Jiu murmured.

The next moment, she opened her contact list.

Her deputy, Wan Qing, was at the very top.

After some thought, Ah Jiu initiated contact.

Wan Qing was overjoyed, sending several messages in rapid succession.

Ah Jiu skimmed through them but didn’t respond, only issuing a single instruction.

[X: Have the Archaeology Institute investigate the ancient qin scores circulating on the StarNet. If they’re authentic, help clarify the situation.]

[Qing: Your Majesty, is there nothing else?]

Ah Jiu considered.

[X: Keep it discreet. Don’t let anyone trace this back to me.]

[Qing: What about the Empress Dowager and the Elder Council.?]

Ah Jiu’s gaze darkened.

[X: Let them do as they please. Just keep an eye on the Forbidden Palace make sure they don’t cause trouble.]

[Qing: Understood. But, Your Majesty, do you truly not intend to return?]

Ah Jiu’s reply was firm.

[X: Not for a while yet.]

[Qing: I only wish to confirm Your Majesty’s safety. The Empire is at peace, inside and out. If Your Majesty is happy where you are, please enjoy yourself without worrying about affairs in the palace.]

[Qing: Also, the Medical Bureau has made a breakthrough. They may soon develop a treatment for Your Majesty’s condition.]

Ah Jiu carefully contemplated the first part of Wan Qing’s message.

Yu Zhitao was showering, the sound of running water drifting from the bathroom. The faint scent of cherry cream mingled with the steam, reaching Ah Jiu’s nose.

Though the material comforts here couldn’t compare to the palace, these past days had indeed been more peaceful than before.

Was it because she was free from those tedious documents and the two women who had drained her spirit?

Ah Jiu didn’t know.

But it didn’t matter much.

She lowered her head and replied to Wan Qing.

[X: Mm. You’ve all worked hard lately.]

After sending this, she didn’t wait for a response, quietly closing the communicator.

Just as she was about to check the StarNet for updates on the qin score incident, Yu Zhitao peeked out from the bathroom.

“Ah Jiu, I forgot to bring my sleep pants. They’re at the foot of the bed, could you get them for me?”

Ah Jiu responded and got up to fetch the pants for her.

After handing them to Yu Zhitao, she turned to leave but was stopped by Yu Zhitao grabbing her wrist.

Yu Zhitao’s face was flushed red, like a fresh peach so ripe it seemed juice could be squeezed from it.

She asked, “There’s not much water left would you like to shower together?”

The excuse was utterly flimsy, Ah Jiu had never heard of water shortages occurring in the upper districts of the capital planet.

But looking at Yu Zhitao’s reddened eyes from the steam, she suddenly recalled how the woman had been crying pear blossom tears earlier.

As she hesitated, Xiao Jiu approached, seemingly wanting to squeeze into the bathroom for a share of the action.

Ah Jiu lifted her foot and gently nudged the kitten aside.

“Alright,” she replied, gripping Yu Zhitao’s wrist in return as she slowly stepped into the bathroom.

By the time Xiao Jiu regained its footing, the bathroom door had already closed.

The kitten stood on its hind legs, scratching at the door with little mews, trying to get its owners’ attention to let it in.

But the sound of running water grew louder, drowning out both the scratching noises and Yu Zhitao’s soft, rapid breathing inside.

As the breathing gradually took on a sobbing quality, Xiao Jiu anxiously paced outside the door.

But clearly, as just a little kitten, there was nothing it could do.

A long time passed before the door opened again, startling Xiao Jiu from its pretend nap. Looking up, it only saw the taller owner carrying the smaller one in her arms.

The kitten eagerly rushed forward to check on its little owner, following anxiously to the bedroom door, only to be shut out by the mischievous taller owner.

Inside the bedroom.

Yu Zhitao lifted her head groggily.

She’d cried so hard earlier that she felt slightly dizzy: “Xiao Jiu sounds so distressed, what’s wrong with it?”

Ah Jiu checked her forehead temperature.

Earlier, to sort out her own feelings, she hadn’t held back at all, making Yu Zhitao cry solidly in her arms for over half an hour.

Though she felt slightly guilty, she’d finally understood one thing.

That Yu Zhitao’s crying really did stir her emotions intensely.

Though she didn’t know what use this realization was, Ah Jiu found herself in an unusually good mood.

Of course, she didn’t dare show this in front of Yu Zhitao for now.

Finding the temperature normal, Ah Jiu withdrew her hand.

“It’s grown up enough,” she said. “Time to get it neutered.”

Yu Zhitao’s muddled brain couldn’t keep up: “Really? But Xiao Jiu’s still just a kitten, isn’t it?”

Outside, whether or not Xiao Jiu understood its owners’ conversation,

It immediately stopped scratching at the door and darted under the sofa.

With the noise gone, Ah Jiu contentedly stroked Yu Zhitao’s hair.

“Sleep,” she said.

Turning off the light, she lifted the blanket and lay down beside Yu Zhitao.

Yu Zhitao turned over naturally, looping an arm around Ah Jiu’s neck.

Half-asleep, she murmured to Ah Jiu: “Ah Jiu, you know, every time I’m with you, I have the same dream.”

Thinking she was just making conversation, Ah Jiu humored her: “What dream?”

Yu Zhitao paused.

“I dream,  of what you looked like as a child.”

“As a child?” Ah Jiu frowned in surprise.

Seizing the opportunity, Yu Zhitao pressed: “Ah Jiu, what were you like as a child? Did you wear princess dresses? Were you adorable to everyone? Did you sweetly call people ‘big sister’?”

The crease between Ah Jiu’s brows deepened.

“No,” she answered.

However, there was one person in her memory who perfectly matched all the descriptions Yu Zhitao had just given.

Yu Zhitao nuzzled against her neck and murmured, “I see.

“So dreams really are my little gift after all.”

Ah Jiu looked down at her, wanting to ask more, but Yu Zhitao was already fast asleep, her soft snores filling the quiet.

In the darkness, Ah Jiu raised a hand and gently pinched Yu Zhitao’s cheek.

The touch was warm and tender, undeniably real, something to linger on.

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