Chapter 251
Chapter 251: He Couldn’t Stop Hugging Her
Jiang Tea Tea took two steps back and made a face.
“Hon, you’re the Empire’s top boss. The highest leader. Watch your wording.”
Feed her until she was full?
The way he said it was far too suggestive.
Good thing they were alone in the office. If there’d been a third person, they could’ve written hundreds of thousands of words of scandalous rumor on the spot.
This dragon had no shame. She, the demon plant, still had some. She wasn’t about to flirt with him here.
Chong Ming’s smile didn’t fade. He undid another button—then another. Three in total.
Neck. Adam’s apple. Collarbone.
Even the outline of his chest was faintly visible.
It wasn’t temptation. It was blatant.
Jiang Tea Tea looked at him and felt deeply grateful she was a great demon with cultivation, presence, and an iron will.
Otherwise, with dragon blood in the air and beauty in front of her, she really would have lunged, wrapped her arms around him, and bitten his throat.
Chong Ming leaned back into his chair and patted his thigh.
“Jiang Tea Tea. You really won’t come over and take a couple of sips?”
“Oh.” His voice turned mock-thoughtful. “I get it. You’re scared. Scared I’ll do something. You can’t beat me. You want to drink, but you won’t.”
Jiang Tea Tea’s gaze flicked to his long legs in military trousers—solid, strong. She’d sat on them before. Now he was patting his thigh, luring her closer.
She refused to take the bait. “Chong. Your cheap provocation doesn’t work on me. Either bleed into a cup, or I’m not drinking.”
“So what if I’m hungry? A normal person can go ten days without starving to death. Someone like me—abnormal—I can go three to five months and still won’t die.”
She patted her stomach with exaggerated confidence. “Look at this little fat. It’ll support me for months. Relax.”
To prove it, she deliberately stuck her belly out and patted again.
Chong Ming watched and didn’t see any fat. He only felt, in that small movement, the cubs inside shifting as if they were responding.
By the count of days, they were eight months along. Eight months without eggshells. They should have been at least two fingers long by now.
Jiang Tea Tea waved him off. “Enough. I’m not talking anymore. I’m going to your military department cafeteria. After I eat, I’ll find somewhere to brew my medicine.”
“Wait.” Chong Ming stood.
She stopped. “What?”
Chong Ming walked around the desk toward her, holding Chong Xing Qi’s confession in one hand.
“I already had food packed for you. Eat before you go downstairs.”
Jiang Tea Tea rolled her eyes. “Then say that first. Why make it so complicated?”
Chong Ming reached for her hand.
She casually lifted her hand to smooth her hair, dodging his fingers, and walked toward the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window.
Chong Ming’s hand caught nothing. His expression didn’t change. He followed her, set the food out, and placed chopsticks and a bowl in front of her.
Jiang Tea Tea didn’t stand on ceremony. She dug in.
The five cubs inside her had grown livelier. And the dragon blood she’d drunk before still hadn’t fully digested. She wasn’t starving in that heart-panic way—just hungry because it was time to eat.
Chong Ming sat across from her. He watched her eat for half a minute, then opened the eighty-page confession and began flipping through it page by page.
He read faster than she ate.
Before she even finished her meal, his orders had already been issued.
Leaders across departments personally took charge, mobilizing forces, launching coordinated arrests—illegal labs, criminals on the list, anyone tied to the case. Wherever the labs were, whoever the people were—if a name appeared, they were seized, interrogated, questioned.
In an instant, the Empire’s judiciary, police personnel, special operators, and the military were working together.
On Starnet, citizens of the Zhen Lin Empire and citizens of other countries were panicking—could the infected be cured? Would the supervirus spread?
The Zhen Lin Empire couldn’t give a precise answer. With an open, non-concealing stance, they released videos of isolated infected to tell the public that medical teams and researchers were working urgently for a solution.
And to prepare the public, they let it slip—again and again—that there were currently no drugs capable of curing the infected. If no treatment could be found, the Zhen Lin Empire would follow the precedent of the Da Xi Nation’s handling of infected two thousand years ago.
The comment sections erupted.
Some citizens supported it outright.
“If they can’t be cured, concentrated destruction is the best way to stop spread. I support any decision the Empire makes.”
“Yeah. Better than letting them suffer like mindless meat. Destroy them.”
“They’re not themselves anymore. Just rot, bone, hunger. I agree—destroy them.”
Others pushed back, calling it inhumane.
“They used to be people. They had dignity. Burning them is too cruel.”
“Zhen Lin is huge. Talented. They’ll find a solution. And feeding ten thousand infected can’t bankrupt an empire.”
And then came the trolls, sweet-talking poison:
“Just raise them. Throw aberrant beasts in and let them chew. Their families can still visit. At least there’s something to hold on to.”
Immediately, people jumped them.
“Your IP is hidden. Are you from the insect clan here to stir trouble?”
“Not even subtle. You want to drag us down. ‘Raise them’—what a nasty idea. You know there’s no cure but you want them to exist forever.”
“How do you even ‘raise’ them? If one guard slips, if one traitor releases them—more infections. Do you want everyone to die?”
“This isn’t cats and dogs. These are supervirus infected. Anyone guarding them has to be fully armored. People saying ‘raise them’ aren’t stupid. They’re evil.”
The overwhelming chorus returned to one core point:
“I support any decision the Commander-in-Chief makes. Anyone trying to stir shit can come see me.”
Jiang Tea Tea rarely scrolled the net. She’d been browsing earlier during Chong Xing Qi’s interrogation and hadn’t muted her device.
While she ate, her lightbrain kept vibrating. After a few bites, she opened it and saw countless people tagging her.
Some asked if the infected could be saved.
Some comforted her—if she couldn’t, it wasn’t her fault, just do your best.
Some cursed her—calling her an empty reputation, saying they’d never seen her treat anyone.
The supervirus should be handled by virologists, they said—not by someone like her with ability stabilization and mind-sea soothing.
Jiang Tea Tea read it all—good and bad. She didn’t like, didn’t repost.
She only posted a single sentence:
“Do your best. Leave the rest to fate.”
Six simple words.
As soon as she logged off Starnet and muted her lightbrain again, the post shot up the trending charts.
She didn’t know.
She finished her food, rinsed her mouth, wiped her lips, and stood.
“I’m going to find somewhere to work on my antidote. If you’ve got nothing, don’t bother me.”
Chong Ming stood too. “Do you need to go to a lab?”
“No. Folk remedies don’t need instruments.”
“Be careful,” Chong Ming said. “Eight of the materials you requested are extremely toxic.”
“I’ll stay inside your military department,” Jiang Tea Tea replied. “I won’t go far. Turn on your military department surveillance and you can see me.”
Chong Ming stared at her, briefly speechless. “Thanks for reminding me. I don’t need satellites to watch you—just military department cameras.”
Jiang Tea Tea pointed a finger at him, severe as a schoolteacher. “Your Highness. Be serious. You’re the Prince Regent, the Empire’s top boss. Don’t get love-brained. Absolutely do not get love-brained.”
Chong Ming strode over in one step and countered instantly. “You’re the successor I’m training and the person I’m pursuing. I’m handling both career and love. How is that ‘love-brained’?”
Jiang Tea Tea retreated two steps at once, widening the distance. “Fine. Whatever makes you happy. I’m going to make my medicine. See you.”
“Wait—”
“What now—”
Chong Ming moved faster than she could blink. He wrapped his arms around her, lowered his head, and kissed the top of her hair.
“Nothing,” he murmured, releasing her almost immediately and stepping back. “I just wanted to hold you.”
Bastard.
Good thing he let go quickly.
Otherwise she really would have chopped his claws off.
Jiang Tea Tea snorted at him, then turned and left.
Chong Ming watched her go, had someone come in to clear the table, and went straight back to work.
Jiang Tea Tea went downstairs and chose a wide empty lot beside the military department building. She called Sui Xuan Chu and Huang Da Zhuang—seven of them in total.
In the demon realm, that fallen immortal brewed medicine over wood fires and immortal techniques. Poison or tonic, one word described it: fragrant.
Jiang Tea Tea set up a clay pot, took out the materials, and laid them out—thirteen kinds, ten portions each, all separated. Fresh as if just harvested.
Cheng Lin Yue stared at them, half terrified, half fascinated. “Sister Tea… these thirteen ingredients are all poisonous. If you boil them together, poison on poison… won’t we just die on the spot?”
Her uncle had heard Sister Tea was trying to make an antidote. He couldn’t come, so he’d sent her in his place—to learn properly.
But she hadn’t expected this.
Any one of these ingredients, taken alone, would require a healer on standby and a bed already reserved in the infirmary. Otherwise, you’d die.
Jiang Tea Tea poured water into the pot and added ingredients as she spoke. “That’s a good question. I’m curious too—will we die on the spot?”
Cheng Lin Yue’s face went white. “Sis… Sister Tea… shouldn’t you wear gloves? Those herbs are toxic. Even skin contact—”
“It’s fine,” Jiang Tea Tea said, waving her off. “If you’re meant to live, you won’t die. If you’re meant to die, you won’t live. Be bold.”
Cheng Lin Yue shook her head violently. “I cannot be bold at all.”
Huang Da Zhuang leaned in, curious. “All of these are extremely toxic?”
Sui Xuan Chu stuck out a hand. “My skin’s thick. Want me to grab one—”
Jiang Tea Tea slapped his hand away. “No need. These go in in a specific order. Timing matters.”
Sui Xuan Chu rubbed his hand and nodded. “Okay. Want me to start the fire?”
“No.” Jiang Tea Tea’s voice sharpened. “You all stand farther back.”
They didn’t argue. They retreated several paces and crouched to watch.
Jiang Tea Tea added the first three deadly ingredients, put on the lid, then took out her flame staff. With a flick of magic power, the sealing art released. A flame sprang to life. She slid the flame staff under the pot.
Huang Da Zhuang and Cheng Xiao Ting stared at the staff with envy and whispered among themselves.
“Sister Tea, what black tech is that? Does anyone know?”
“No idea. She’s had it since the space weapon expo. It’s so cool. I love it. Can’t even find a knockoff.”
“Do you think it’s a new heat weapon? Custom-made by the Commander-in-Chief? The only one in the M31 Star System?”
“Impossible. If there’s only one, wouldn’t it be in our Crown Prince’s hands?”
Sui Xuan Chu choked on air and started coughing violently.
Zhang Ting Zhou smacked his back. “Chief Sui, we’re talking about the Commander-in-Chief and the Crown Prince. Why are you choking?”
Sui Xuan Chu wheezed. He wasn’t choking because he was nervous.
He was choking because his own saliva had tried to kill him.
Cheng Lin Yue, who knew his identity, shrank into a quiet little quail and didn’t dare speak.
The pot boiled hard for ten minutes. Then Jiang Tea Tea lowered the flame and began the long simmer.
The scent of poison bloomed into the air.
Cheng Lin Yue looked increasingly worried.
The sky darkened. The area around them was lit bright as day.
Only four ingredients had gone in. Getting all thirteen in would take hours.
Jiang Tea Tea said, “You don’t need to stay. Do what you need to do. This boils until tomorrow morning.”
She expected them to leave happily.
Instead, they smacked their thighs and declared, “Fortune shared, hardship shared! If you’re brewing, we’re smelling. We’ll keep you company!”
“We’ve got food and drinks. Who’s hungry?”
“I’m hungry—pull it out!”
In moments, the place turned into an outdoor campfire feast.
Jiang Tea Tea sat beside the pot. Her feet sank into the earth, transforming into branches that drilled into the ground, absorbing the land’s essence.
At the same time, elsewhere in the building, Cai Xi Chao rushed into Chong Ming’s office with an ability fluctuation detector.
“Commander-in-Chief, there’s a powerful ability fluctuation underground beneath the military department.”
Chong Ming glanced at the display. The signal spiked upward violently.
“Sound the alarm. Activate underground ability detection—”
A thunderous boom cut him off.
Far away, Jiang Tea Tea snapped her head up.
“My medicine—!”
A massive yellow dragon, reeking of rot and corruption, had burst up from underground and slammed into her clay pot. The pot flew, shattered, and spilled.
Jiang Tea Tea dropped everything and surged forward, fury boiling.
“You dared knock over my medicine. I’ll cut you into eight pieces—!”
Sui Xuan Chu grabbed her arm and yanked her backward.
“Roommate! That living-dead zombie dragon—it’s Chong Xing Qi. He was infected with the supervirus!”