Chapter 210
Chapter 210: Love Means It, So Does a Slap—and If I Let Go, I Won’t Beg You to Stay
Atuya stared at Chong Ming for a long moment, stunned, before she finally spoke. “Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming, I’m from the Insect Clan. I’m an Insect Clan general.”
Chong Ming lifted a brow. “I know you’re from the Insect Clan. What does that have to do with me inviting you to Zhen Lin Empire?”
The shock drained from Atuya’s face, replaced by a cool, controlled calm. “You want an Insect Clan general to serve under you and guard the border space station at the edge of your star system. That’s the same as handing me the key to one of your gates.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll turn on you?”
He was offering her power. If she chose, she could open that gate for an invasion. His people would be slaughtered, and with a single decision she could leave him condemned for ages.
Chong Ming’s expression didn’t change. Confident and unhurried, he said, “Why would I be afraid? I don’t fear any order I give or any decision I make. And I don’t regret them.”
He looked straight at her. “So—are you willing to come to Zhen Lin Empire and be my general?”
Atuya refused without a second’s hesitation. “Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming, thank you for your goodwill. Thank you for valuing me so highly.”
Then her voice hardened, like a blade laid flat on the table.
“I’m the Insect Clan’s general. I’m an Insect Clan member.”
Even if breaking her engagement with Agris meant being pushed to the margins, even if the Insect Queen no longer favored her, even if every insect in the capital looked at her like a stain—she still wouldn’t betray her country.
Even if Chong Ming was the best leader she’d ever encountered, even if he promised she would never have to fight other Insect Clan soldiers, she still wouldn’t come serve as his general.
Chong Ming clearly understood, but he asked anyway. “That’s your answer today. I can give you time to think. Three months, or half a year. How about it?”
Atuya shook her head. “Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming, thank you for your appreciation. You don’t need to give me time. I won’t consider it. Whether I live or die, I will stay with the Insect Clan.”
Chong Ming studied her for a moment, admiration and candor mixing in his eyes. “Good. I respect your choice.”
She carried the bearing of a true general—iron backbone, spotless record, and the kind of strength that couldn’t be faked.
If he couldn’t pry her loose, then he would honor her loyalty.
Atuya straightened and saluted. “Thank you. And regarding Miss Jiang Tea Tea…” She faltered, the words catching on her tongue.
Chong Ming finished for her. “Miss Jiang Tea Tea likes you. She asked me not to hold Agris’s actions against you—to let you off.”
Atuya had come prepared to be humiliated, cursed, punished, shaken down for compensation—whatever a victor might demand.
What she hadn’t expected was an invitation.
What she hadn’t expected was that, even after she refused, he didn’t make things difficult for her. He didn’t withhold praise out of spite. And now he wasn’t pursuing the kidnapping at all.
In that sudden, quiet moment, Atuya understood why Zhen Lin Empire had grown strong, prosperous, and unstoppable. It wasn’t luck.
“Thank you, Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming.”
Her gratitude was sincere. She reached into her storage button, pulled out a heavy lump of rare ore, and set it on the desk between them. Then she retreated two steps, posture respectful but distant.
“His Highness Agris kidnapped Miss Jiang Tea Tea and frightened her. That was his fault—and mine.” She paused, then added, “Miss Jiang Tea Tea didn’t pursue it. I’m deeply grateful. This ore isn’t worth much, but please pass it to Miss Jiang Tea Tea for me.”
Her eyes stayed steady. “And please tell her… I owe her two favors. If she ever needs anything, I will repay them.”
Chong Ming glanced at the ore. It had to weigh over ten pounds. Once cut and polished, it would fetch a small fortune.
He looked back at Atuya. “You have Miss Jiang Tea Tea’s contact. You can thank her yourself. Tell her directly you want to repay her.”
Atuya lowered her gaze, polite to the point of icy restraint. “Miss Jiang Tea Tea has done me a kindness. I can’t take advantage and push for more.”
Chong Ming’s mouth curved, brief as dusk. “Fine. I’ll pass it on.”
He lifted his voice. “Secretary Wen. See General Atuya out.”
Secretary Wen arrived promptly, walked to Atuya, and inclined his head. “General Atuya, please.”
Atuya saluted Chong Ming once more, stepped back, turned, and followed Secretary Wen out.
She had barely left when Zhong Li He strode in and planted himself in front of Chong Ming’s desk, eyes bright with disbelief.
“Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming,” he demanded, “were you serious? You actually tried to poach Atuya?”
Chong Ming handed him a cup of nutrient fruit juice as if they were discussing the weather. “I was serious.”
Zhong Li He took a gulp and almost grimaced—the sour bite nearly made his teeth ache. Pride forced him to swallow it anyway.
Chong Ming continued calmly, “Too bad she doesn’t feel any sense of belonging to Zhen Lin Empire. She knows that once her engagement is broken, the Insect Queen won’t like her. She knows she’ll be sidelined. And still, she doesn’t complain.”
Zhong Li He narrowed his eyes. “Are you truly admiring her… or is this you ‘loving what Jiang Tea Tea loves’?”
Chong Ming poured himself a cup as well and drank without flinching. “I truly admire her. Her battle style. Her military talent. Her personal ability.”
Then he added, voice low and even, “Most of all, she has qualities the Insect Clan lacks.”
He set his cup down. “The Insect Clan doesn’t deserve an insect like her. Agris doesn’t deserve her.”
Zhong Li He blinked, surprise softening into understanding. “So you knew she wouldn’t betray her country, but you still tried.”
“I tried,” Chong Ming agreed. “Even if I knew the odds.”
He walked to the window and looked out at the sky beyond the ship’s hull. “Talent is something you have to fight for. Especially people with real ability—loyal to their nation, clear-headed, with principles they won’t bend.”
He didn’t turn around. “That kind of person is rare.”
Zhong Li He fell into step beside him. “The six around Jiang Tea Tea?”
Chong Ming tilted his head, glancing sideways. “Seven.”
Zhong Li He snorted. “Your eldest nephew doesn’t count.”
“My eldest nephew,” Chong Ming said, unruffled, “hasn’t inherited the throne yet. Before that, he needs to build something of his own. He needs achievements that can hold people down and make them think twice.”
Zhong Li He stared at him. “So you mean Jiang Tea Tea and the six around her—plus your nephew makes seven—and all of them have to make a name for themselves in Zhen Lin Empire?”
“That’s the plan,” Chong Ming said, faintly amused. “That’s how I’m training them. Whether they become famous and build real careers depends on their skill.”
He turned from the window, gaze far-reaching. “Zhen Lin Empire has vast star systems and countless planets. Young people have quick minds. They need opportunities.”
“Innovation, strength, fairness—that’s what ignites patriotism. Young people are the empire’s hope. The empire’s future.”
Then he added, as casually as an offhand complaint, “I’m one hundred and fifty. The cub will be born in a few months. I really want to stay home and raise the cub. I don’t want to work.”
Zhong Li He froze.
His face went blank, then twisted, like someone had stabbed him with a needle of pure spite.
They’d been talking so seriously—and in the next breath, Chong Ming was showing off right in his face.
Bullying him for not having a lover. Bullying him for not having a mate. Bullying him for not having a cub.
Zhong Li He glared. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Goodbye.”
Chong Ming didn’t stop him right away. Only when Zhong Li He had walked several steps did Chong Ming call out, tone unhurried.
“Chief Executive Zhong. I remember you came to the Space Weapons Exhibition not only to sell weapons, but also to discuss strategic cooperation and trade.”
He turned back toward the desk. “I happen to have time today. We can talk first. Later, our people can finalize the details. It’ll save us both a lot of time. What do you think?”
Zhong Li He had already stopped. The moment Chong Ming finished, Zhong Li He spun around and sat across from Chong Ming’s desk with the speed of a lightning strike.
“Fine,” he said. “Discuss.”
Chong Ming returned to his chair. The amusement vanished like a mask being removed. He became instantly serious, fully in work mode.
Meanwhile, Jiang Tea Tea flew Adjutant Ai’s flyer straight into the Space Weapons Exhibition zone, found Sui Xuan Chu and the others, and brought it down neatly.
The seven of them hadn’t seen who was piloting it at first. They assumed it was someone sent by Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming—someone who could drop a flyer right onto the grounds without hesitation.
When Jiang Tea Tea pushed the door open and stepped out, they surged around her at once, voices overlapping.
“Sister Tea! Damn, you’re something else. You got snatched by the Insect Clan and you’re back already. Are you hurt? Did you wreck them?”
“Sister Tea, which blind idiot bug dragged you off? Let me tell you—Atuya is Agris’s fiancée. They’re all the same. None of them are good!”
“Sister Tea, where did you even come from? This flyer… it’s low-key but fancy. Looks safe. Looks expensive.”
Sui Xuan Chu stared at the flyer and went silent.
It was expensive. It was Adjutant Ai’s.
And his roommate really had gotten her back from his uncle’s side.
Of course it was Jiang Tea Tea. Atuya and Agris couldn’t hold her.
Jiang Tea Tea raised a hand, cutting through the chatter. “I’m not injured. It’s resolved. Everyone go back to what you’re supposed to be doing. When it’s time to tally credit, Chong Ming will make sure it’s counted for us.”
“Same as the White Wolf Clan mission. We catch the bad guys, clean up the mess, then we get our rewards.”
Cheng Xiao Ting and Huang Da Zhuang whooped like children.
“I told you! Those petty punks delivered themselves. Isn’t that just handing us third-class merit on a silver plate?”
“Cling to Sister Tea’s thigh tight—she’s a top-tier carry!”
“Long live Sister Tea! Long live, long live!”
Jiang Tea Tea took one look at their ridiculous faces and shoved them toward their patrol routes.
Even though it was almost time to clock out, they still split into two groups and kept patrolling, guiding tourists, and doing their jobs until the exhibition shut down.
When the zone finally closed, they returned to Camp 59—only to be welcomed like conquering heroes.
Xia Wei Yi even made an exception. No nutrient paste. No nutrient fluid. Instead, he organized a bonfire barbecue.
Squad One had hunted some meat from a nearby ridge and bought the rest. By nightfall, the camp’s central clearing was alive with crackling firewood and the smell of sizzling fat. Meat was skinned and cleaned, sliced thin or cut into strips, marinated, and laid over grills.
A minute later it hissed and spit. Two minutes later someone was already wrapping a piece in cabbage and eating it hot, burning their fingers and laughing through it.
Before long, the air over the camp was thick with smoke and hunger. Everyone dug in—loud, chaotic, joyous.
They ate for two full hours before they finally staggered away, bellies full and laughter still in their throats, and returned to their quarters.
Back in her room, after she cleaned up, Jiang Tea Tea took advantage of the rare quiet to cultivate.
Halfway through, wisps of merit light drifted toward her from all directions and slipped into her body.
She froze.
Only after several strands sank in and were absorbed—turning into clean power within her—did she snap back to herself.
Merit light? Why?
She hadn’t donated money lately. She hadn’t done any big public good. Merit, by its nature, came from cultivating virtue, doing good, and being sincerely believed in.
Was it because she’d let Atuya go and Atuya felt grateful?
No. Gratitude wasn’t faith. And that was hardly a “great deed.”
Jiang Tea Tea thought until her head hurt. She couldn’t make sense of it, couldn’t settle her mind, and ended up tossing and turning all night without sleeping.
For a demon, one sleepless night meant nothing.
The next morning she was still bright-eyed, energized, and marching like a general into battle as she led Huang Da Zhuang and the others on patrol.
Tourists snapped photos—of weapons from every nation, yes, but also of Jiang Tea Tea’s patrol team—and posted them online, flooding their feeds.
They wore sunglasses with face paint streaked across their cheeks, and they took it all without a trace of stage fright.
Nine more days passed in that calm, busy rhythm. Then, with a perfect close, Zhen Lin Empire’s Space Weapons Exhibition ended and shut down.
After their final shift, the eight of them washed off their face paint, changed clothes, boarded Chong Ming’s warship, and returned with him to Capital Planet.
Chief Executive Zhong Li He of Da Xi Nation was leaving at the same time. Two ships uncloaked at once, lifted off together, and punched through Ri Pan Star’s atmosphere into deep space.
On another ship, Agris pressed his fingers to the glass, watching the two ships recede into the black until they were nothing but points.
His jaw clenched so hard it trembled.
“Why?” he snarled, turning on Atuya. “Why, Atuya? You wouldn’t help me—fine. But you cut my signal, confiscated my lightbrain, had a healer inject me with an ability suppressant, and locked me on this ship!”
He slammed his hand into the glass again. “You won’t let me leave, and you won’t let me go to Jiang Tea Tea.”
His voice rose, ragged with fury and humiliation. “I’m your fiancé. You’re my fiancée. Even if you won’t stand with me, you can’t treat me like this.”
Atuya stood in crisp uniform, cap set straight, posture rigid as a blade.
She answered evenly. “This was for the greater good of the Insect Clan. Your Highness, you acted on impulse.”
“Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming left with Miss Jiang Tea Tea. Chief Executive Zhong Li He returned with him to discuss closer cooperation between our nations. Under those circumstances, the Insect Clan can’t act rashly or provoke conflict.”
She met his eyes without flinching. “I injected you with an ability suppressant. I confined you. I cut your lightbrain signal and confiscated the device. When we return to the Insect Clan, I will personally plead guilty before Her Majesty.”
Agris snapped.
With a sudden twist, he lunged, crossing the distance in a single stride. His palm cut through the air.
Slap.
Atuya’s head jerked to the side. Her cap shifted, tilting crooked.
Slowly, she lifted her eyes. With measured calm, she reached up, removed the cap, and set it aside.
Then she spoke, respectful and steady. “If one slap won’t satisfy you, you can hit me again.”
“Hit me until you’ve thought it through.”
“Hit me until you’ve vented everything you need to vent.”