Chapter 164
Chapter 164: The Old Golden Dragon Can’t Control His Desire for His Mate—His Scales Keep Popping Out
As the Zhen Lin Empire’s highest leader, Chong Ming’s StarNet account had always been used for one thing: reposting major policy changes and important announcements.
In the hundred-plus years since he’d created it, he almost never posted anything personal.
This was the first time.
The moment he uploaded the video, it shot up the trending charts and exploded into endless shares and comments.
“Six seconds. A table full of dishes. And that crisp female voice nitpicking him feels like I just got slapped in the face.”
“No, you’ve got it wrong. I didn’t get slapped. Someone pried my mouth open and force-fed me romance—and I hate myself for liking it.”
“So even Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming gets nitpicked and disliked? My soul feels balanced. I suddenly feel cute.”
“Balanced my ass. That’s not what this is. This is him showing off. He’s telling all you males he’s drowning in work and still makes time to cook for his mate, so stop making excuses.”
“Exactly. You think he posted that to complain about his mate? Get real.”
“He recorded her voice on purpose. It’s not a complaint. It’s a flex.”
“Look at the whole six seconds. His mate doesn’t even show a fingertip—just her voice, sweet and clear, nitpicking him like she’s teasing him. Who wouldn’t love that?”
“I love it. Just from her voice, I can picture her—small, fair, cute, but gorgeous. So… hypothetically speaking… how do we steal the commander-in-chief’s mate?”
“Stop. My heart is freezing. Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming acting this down-to-earth because he has a female? I’m done.”
“From now on, any male who says he’s busy—show him this. If you’re busy, are you busier than Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming? Are you more impressive than him?”
“I already showed it to my partner. I shoved it in his face. He’s cleaning up the cub right now, obedient as can be.”
“Same. If a male complains about earning money being hard, throw this clip at him and scold him until he behaves.”
Some StarNet users even screenshotted the six-second video and edited themselves into it, creating the illusion they were eating with their idol, Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming.
StarNet descended into chaos.
And it wasn’t just citizens of the Zhen Lin Empire. Star-friends from other nations piled in too, delighted that Chong Ming suddenly felt less distant—almost… cute.
Jiang Tea Tea knew none of it.
She nitpicked everything on the table—every dish, every dessert, even the juice. She said the juice was too strong. She said the fruit was cut too big.
From beginning to end, Chong Ming did nothing but listen and watch her, eating quietly along the way—except for those few seconds when he filmed and posted the clip.
When she finally finished, he calmly served her more meat. “All right. I’ve memorized it. Next time, I’ll improve. Eat more.”
Jiang Tea Tea felt like she’d punched a pillow. She couldn’t find a single trace of impatience on his face, so all she could do was huff and eat.
She finished about half the spread. Chong Ming calmly ate the rest.
After dinner, Chong Ming took a call in front of her. He spoke for around ten minutes. When he hung up, he took her out for a walk.
After forty-five minutes, night had fully settled. The Imperial Palace lights burned bright as day.
Chong Ming brought her into the Imperial Palace garden.
The trees there were massive—trunks so thick one person couldn’t wrap their arms around them. Some were so thick it took several people.
Every tree was centuries old, even thousands.
And Jiang Tea Tea’s presence made them come alive. Even without wind, branches trembled. Leaves rustled softly.
In the center of the garden stood a nutrient fruit tree so huge it took several people to embrace its trunk.
The moment Jiang Tea Tea approached, the tree began dropping fruit.
Golden nutrient fruit rained down, filling the ground—yet none of it hit her. Almost none were damaged. Most landed whole and intact, as if the tree were deliberately offering gifts.
Jiang Tea Tea squealed with joy. “Chong Ming! This tree is dropping fruit for me! Hurry, help me pick it up!”
Chong Ming had never seen a nutrient fruit tree drop good fruit on its own without anyone harvesting it. Usually, if fruit fell by itself, it was rotten.
He pulled a large box out of his storage button, bent, and started collecting the nutrient fruit.
Jiang Tea Tea pressed her palm to the trunk and spoke warmly. “Thank you. That’s enough, that’s enough. Don’t drop more. I can’t eat that much.”
“You’re so big, so beautiful, so handsome. Keep it up. You’re going to live a thousand years, ten thousand years. You’ll become the sweetest nutrient fruit tree.”
The massive tree swayed, and a single nutrient fruit—about the size of a palm—dropped neatly into her waiting hand, as if it understood praise.
Jiang Tea Tea bit into it. Seven parts sweet, three parts sour—exactly her taste.
She looked up at the tree, delighted. “Thank you. Your fruit is so sweet. I love it.”
The giant tree rustled its leaves in response, as if answering her.
Chong Ming watched her from the corner of his eye.
In that moment, he had the distinct feeling she could communicate with trees.
The ancient trees of the Imperial Palace garden—centuries, thousands of years—seemed to like her too. On this windless night, their branches and leaves kept trembling and swaying.
Jiang Tea Tea finished her nutrient fruit and bent to pick more, joining Chong Ming. Good or bruised, she tossed it all into the box.
The tree’s gifts—good or bad—she wanted them all. She could eat them all and absorb the nutrients.
They collected two full boxes of nutrient fruit before Jiang Tea Tea stored them in her storage button and left happily.
Chong Ming followed one step behind, and then he caught a scent.
Clean and fresh—like the flower that had once fallen from Jiang Tea Tea’s head.
But her head didn’t have any flowers now.
The scent wasn’t coming from above. It was coming from her. When he’d carried her earlier, he hadn’t smelled it. When they ate dinner, he hadn’t smelled it.
It only began the moment she bent to pick fruit. And it kept growing stronger.
As he breathed it in, his ability backlash stirred. His mental power—restless and taut—felt soothed, smoothed down, as if someone had pressed a gentle palm against it.
It felt so good he wanted to shift into beast form.
Chong Ming forced the impulse down and followed Jiang Tea Tea back to the palace residence.
The moment they entered the bedroom, the scent filled the air completely.
Even after Jiang Tea Tea went into the bathroom to wash up, the fragrance lingered, drifting out in waves—faint, then stronger, then faint again.
Chong Ming took out the flower he’d kept: white petals, yellow stamens. It was in full bloom, so fresh it looked like it had just been plucked from a branch.
Jiang Tea Tea spent half an hour in the bathroom, completely unaware that the barrier technique she’d used earlier had faded. Her tea-blossom scent spilled from every inch of her, uncontested.
When she finally opened the bathroom door, the concentrated fragrance rolled out through the bedroom, out the windows, and into the Imperial Palace beyond, spreading into the night.
Chong Ming inhaled the sudden, overwhelming scent. His golden eyes darkened instantly. The hand holding his lightbrain tightened.
He stood and walked to her, holding the tablet out. “This is information related to your mission in a few days. It includes the White Wolf Clan—besides your biological parents—other key criminal suspects.”
“Look at it first. Memorize their faces and their abilities.”
Jiang Tea Tea took the lightbrain. “Okay.”
The closer she was, the stronger the scent became.
It expanded his desire until it felt like it swallowed him whole.
He wanted to get closer. To press against her. To hold her. To kiss her—
Chong Ming’s ears reddened. He forced himself to step back. “I’m going to wash up.”
Jiang Tea Tea didn’t even look up. She answered with a distracted “Mm,” climbed onto the bed with the tablet, and sat cross-legged as she read.
Chong Ming went into the bathroom.
Usually, he took warm showers. Tonight, warm water didn’t exist.
He dumped ice into the tub. Cold water and ice.
The bathroom wasn’t small, but it wasn’t large either. Jiang Tea Tea’s lingering fragrance was everywhere—impossible to block, impossible to escape.
Chong Ming soaked in the ice water for a full half hour.
Even then, he had to fight to keep dragon scales from bursting out of his skin—and to force down the desire for Jiang Tea Tea that kept clawing its way back up.
Jiang Tea Tea read the information carefully. The key suspects from the White Wolf Clan were all connected to the fake heiress one way or another. Their ability ranks were all above 3S, with talents like speed and roar abilities.
For Jiang Tea Tea, it barely mattered. In all the time she’d been here, there was only one person she hadn’t been able to beat.
Chong Ming.
She set the tablet aside and fell back on the bed, a hand resting on her belly. Inside, the five cubs pressed against her palm with their heads and bodies.
Chong Ming emerged from the bathroom wearing a black robe, his body still chilled from the ice water. His belt was tied tight, but when he reached the mirror, he saw the tooth marks Jiang Tea Tea had left on his neck.
He stopped.
He loosened the belt.
He tugged the robe open slightly, exposing his chest.
Then he left the bathroom and entered the bedroom, his gaze drawn toward the bed as if his body had stopped obeying his mind.
The scales he’d forced down in the ice water surged again—golden and sharp—rising across his chest, his neck, even his face.
All the restraint he’d built collapsed the moment he saw Jiang Tea Tea again.
Jiang Tea Tea heard his footsteps and sat up, turning toward him.
The sight froze her.
Her heart slammed hard into her ribs.
“Chong Ming,” she said, voice tight, “your neck… your chest… your face—you have dragon scales. What’s wrong? Did your ability backlash flare up?”