Chapter 270
Chapter 270: What? The Dragon Cubs Were Born—Born Without Warning
Jiang Tea Tea froze. “Cheng Yuan, could the data be wrong?”
She hadn’t felt anything—no signs at all that the cubs were about to be born. If anything, it felt like they were perfectly happy mooching in her belly.
Under her skeptical stare, Cheng Yuan recalibrated and rechecked the device from top to bottom. After confirming again and again that nothing was off, he looked up.
“The machine is fine. The cubs in your belly have reached their due date. They could be born today, or tomorrow…”
He paused, then added, “That sudden cramping you had earlier may have been their warning—telling you to get ready. From now on, labor can happen anytime, anywhere.”
Cheng Lin Yue frowned, baffled. “Uncle, dragon eggs in the dragon clan usually hatch after ten to fifteen months. Sister Tea isn’t even eight months and ten days yet. Are they really mature? Something feels wrong.”
“That’s how it should be, in theory,” Cheng Yuan said evenly. “But with Jiang Tea Tea’s situation, we can’t judge it by tradition.”
“She’s carrying five at once, and none of them has an eggshell. They’ll be born as hatchlings—no incubation. That alone doesn’t match anything in the dragon clan’s records.”
“So we can’t use common sense to guess what’s going on in her belly. We can only trust the tests and what we can see.”
Jiang Tea Tea hadn’t expected her cubs to backstab her like this—choosing to come early while she was completely in the dark.
She stared at the monitor. The five little golden bodies weren’t curled in a tight cluster anymore. They’d spread out, shifting restlessly.
“I understand,” she said.
If that was the case… should she run right now and find somewhere to give birth?
Cheng Yuan hesitated, then asked carefully, “Jiang Tea Tea… about you being pregnant with five dragon clan cubs. Are you really not going to tell the Commander-in-Chief?”
Jiang Tea Tea lifted her eyes to him. Her gaze was black, deep, and eerily calm—like a bottomless abyss with nothing on the surface to grab onto.
The moment Cheng Yuan met that look, his heart lurched. An invisible pressure seemed to bear down on him. He rushed to explain, voice tight with unease.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean… the Commander-in-Chief’s character, strength, and methods are top-tier in the M31 Star System. Everyone knows it.”
“If he knows the cubs exist, he can protect you and them better. I know you’re strong, but an individual’s strength can’t compete with a nation’s power.”
“Right now, the Commander-in-Chief isn’t suspicious. He believes the results we gave him. But if he ever starts doubting what we’ve hidden, then as long as he truly wants the truth, our ‘hiding’ won’t be hiding anymore.”
“You’re carrying five. If it were two, you might be able to conceal it. Five? How do you hide that?”
“As long as you’re in the Zhen Lin Empire, you can’t.”
“And even if you somehow leave the Zhen Lin Empire and go to another country in the M31 Star System… who could possibly make you feel safer than the Commander-in-Chief?”
“And if you take it even further and avoid every country entirely, drifting through the sea of stars… you’ll still need supplies. The moment you resupply, you leave traces. The Commander-in-Chief can track you down easily.”
“Even if you get lucky again and he can’t find you out there… the cubs will grow day by day. Won’t they ask where they came from?”
Jiang Tea Tea fell silent.
If her magic power were back at its peak, she could draw a barrier and form a pocket realm, twist time within it—one day inside, a year outside. Or one day inside, ten years outside. She could take the cubs in there and cultivate without a problem.
But her magic power was only at twenty percent, and her contract with the fake heiress still wasn’t complete. Under those conditions, everything Cheng Yuan had just said stopped being a theory and became a very real threat.
Cheng Lin Yue tugged her uncle’s sleeve and spoke softly, careful not to push.
“Uncle, you know the Commander-in-Chief stands at the top of M31. Sister Tea may be the only mutant plant-type healer in all of M31, but her status and authority can’t compare to his. And their ages are far too different.”
“It’s normal for Sister Tea to have concerns and worries. Don’t push her. Don’t guide her. Let her decide.”
She turned to Jiang Tea Tea, eyes firm. “Sister Tea, even though my idol is the Commander-in-Chief, no matter what you choose, I’ll support you.”
Sister Tea was her classmate, her comrade, her good friend—her best companion on the road of learning.
Chong Ming, the Commander-in-Chief, held overwhelming power. Sister Tea didn’t even know who her birth parents were. She had nothing but herself.
As her friend, Cheng Lin Yue couldn’t let her face this alone. If nothing else, she would stand on her side and support every decision she made.
Jiang Tea Tea looked at them for a long moment. Then she stepped down from the testing device.
“Destroy all the data,” she said. “You two leave first. If the Commander-in-Chief asks you anything, push it all onto me. Let him come to me if he wants answers.”
Cheng Yuan nodded and moved fast. He wiped every record, formatted everything clean, and scrubbed the machine until there wasn’t a single trace left behind.
Then he packed the device into a storage button and handed Jiang Tea Tea a wristband. “Wear this close to your skin. It can detect labor fluctuations five minutes in advance and vibrate as a warning. Keep it on, so you don’t go into labor at school and get caught off guard.”
Jiang Tea Tea took it but didn’t put it on. She only held it, watching him in silence.
Cheng Yuan didn’t press. Instead, he pulled out a compact two-seater flyer. “I modified this. Its top speed exceeds every flyer on the market.”
“School starts tomorrow. If anything feels wrong at school, run outside and get into it. The energy system can carry you thousands of miles. No flyer will catch you—unless it’s a fighter jet or a carrier ship.”
He put the flyer away again, then placed another storage button in her palm. “This one has an auxiliary medical robot I modified.”
“There are also signal-jammer devices. I’m giving them all to you. If you need them, take them out and use them.”
“And besides the medical robot, there are three guard-type robots inside.”
“Also three lightbrain devices and three identities.”
He met her gaze steadily. “I hope you never have to use any of this. But I’m worried that because you don’t trust Chong Ming, you’ll end up passive and trapped—like I once was in the institute.”
Without her, there wouldn’t be him. The debt he owed her—and her care for Cheng Lin Yue—was enough for him to disobey the Commander-in-Chief without hesitation.
Five cubs. Forget the golden dragon imperial clan—across the entire dragon clan, she was one of a kind.
Her unease and distrust made sense to him. When he’d been pinned to a lab table and studied like a specimen, he’d also prayed someone would drag him out of the fire.
And when he finally escaped, the person who’d experimented on him had status so high it felt untouchable. Cheng Yuan could never have pulled him down alone.
It was Jiang Tea Tea who helped him do it—who helped him take revenge. That debt was heavier than the sky.
Two storage buttons sat in Jiang Tea Tea’s hands. She looked at Cheng Yuan and Cheng Lin Yue, opened her mouth, and finally managed, “Thank you…”
Cheng Yuan shook his head. “No need. We’re leaving.”
Cheng Lin Yue still didn’t forget to warn her, voice soft but firm. “Sister Tea, if you feel unwell, call me. I’ll always be your little fangirl.”
Jiang Tea Tea nodded. “Okay.”
Cheng Yuan and Cheng Lin Yue gathered every signal jammer in the room, then left the way they came, one after the other, down the stairs.
Chong Ming stood at the bend between the second and third floors, leaning against the railing. His face was stern, his presence heavy—pressure rolling off him without him even trying.
The three-story wooden house was filled not only with that oppressive aura, but with his psychic power too, soothing and pervasive. It was as if he were telling Jiang Tea Tea: as long as you stay here, no matter which room you’re in, you and the cubs will be safe. You’ll grow strong and healthy under my control.
Even with shielding devices, Cheng Yuan and Cheng Lin Yue nearly went weak in the knees under that overwhelming pressure.
They passed along Jiang Tea Tea’s message. Chong Ming didn’t ask a single question. He only watched them leave, then went upstairs.
Night had fully fallen. Under the robot moderator and the manual system, every light around the house flicked on.
The wooden house stood on the mountaintop, half swallowed by clouds. With the lights glowing, it looked unreal—like something from a dream.
Then the roof and outer walls retracted, transforming it into a massive glass house, one-way glass facing outward.
Jiang Tea Tea sat on a soft sofa. Behind her were drifting clouds; in the distance, scattered stars. She watched Chong Ming approach and sit beside her.
In a low voice, he asked, “How were the results?”
Jiang Tea Tea studied him for a beat, then smiled. “No problems. The pain was just the cubs being too mischievous and tossing around. It’s within the normal range.”
Chong Ming’s gaze dropped from her face to her stomach. Her belly didn’t show much to begin with, and now a cushion covered it, giving him nothing to see.
“If you’re fine, that’s good,” he said. “Do you want dinner?”
Jiang Tea Tea pulled the cushion away and stood. “No. I’m going to wash up and go to sleep.”
“And you… if you want to stay here, stay. If you don’t, you can leave. Just don’t make noise and wake me.”
Chong Ming tipped his chin up to look at her. “Okay.”
Their eyes met, then slid past each other. Under his gaze, Jiang Tea Tea went to wash up.
The walk-in closet was stocked with everything—everyday clothes, seasonal outfits, even pajamas for spring, summer, autumn, and winter. School uniforms and training gear were sorted neatly by category.
Jiang Tea Tea went from the bathroom into the closet, changed into pajamas, then walked into the bedroom with her long hair loose down to her waist.
Chong Ming stayed where he was. A lightbrain tablet rested on his lap, and official work filled his hands.
He sat alone, back straight, eyes sharp, processing paperwork with a quiet, lonely dominance.
Jiang Tea Tea rubbed her belly as she watched him.
A nation spanning an entire star system meant countless inhabited planets, countless races living together, endless conflicts and friction. He had to govern, suppress, deter, reward, defend.
He also had to face other nations watching like tigers—border defenses, military deployments, pressure from every direction. Just thinking about it made her head ache.
She smacked her lips. For no reason she could name, she felt a little sorry for him.
Poor Old Loach.
At a position like his, if he were incompetent and selfish, he could live comfortably—carefree, indulgent, untouchable.
But he wasn’t.
He was responsible. He cared about the country and its people. He had principles and ability, and he didn’t allow himself to do anything that would betray the nation or let down its citizens.
Jiang Tea Tea walked over and sat on the sofa beside him, folding her legs onto the cushion. She hugged a pillow over her stomach and stared at him without blinking.
About five minutes later, Chong Ming finished what he was doing and looked up.
“Didn’t you say you were going to sleep after washing up? Why are you sitting here?”
“I was going to,” Jiang Tea Tea said. “But after my shower I felt wide awake, so I came over to ask—being the Commander-in-Chief, is it like this? Endless work, endless problems, endless worries?”
Chong Ming weighed his words. “Yes and no. If you have absolute deterrence, the ability to suppress, and the ability to judge people, then everyone below you works for you.”
“You give the orders and look at the results. Of course, you still need to choose the best option out of many possibilities, send it down for others to execute, and then review the outcome.”
“If the outcome still isn’t what you want—still not optimal—you fix it. And you need the ability to respond efficiently to sudden crises.”
Jiang Tea Tea sighed. “That sounds exhausting. I’m lazy, and you’re so hardworking. The more I think about it, the more I know I can’t do what you do.”
“Stop trying to train me. I’m really not cut out for that. Let me stay a small healer, okay?”
Chong Ming looked at her with complete seriousness. “You finish every assignment I give you with S-rank results. It’s not that you can’t. You’re more than capable.”
[Me, a great demon tree, becoming the Commander-in-Chief in this world, shaking the stars with my name… all to complete a contract with the fake heiress?]
She sighed inwardly. Back then, she shouldn’t have been greedy for food, greedy for status, or let her sympathy overflow enough to sign that contract.
In her heart, she regretted it. That contract had awakened the fragment of the fake heiress’s consciousness still clinging to her.
That leftover consciousness even offered advice: sell the cubs, let them struggle for themselves, and she could be free.
Jiang Tea Tea was so angry she laughed.
She was a tree demon who’d somehow gotten five dragon babies. Sell them to their biological father and turn them into workhorses? What kind of garbage idea was that?
Chong Ming saw the sudden smile—the flash of teeth—and asked, “What are you laughing at?”
Jiang Tea Tea wiped the smile away and cleared her throat. “Nothing. I just have a suggestion. Stop training me. Train your eldest nephew instead. Train him to be like you.”
“If ten years isn’t enough, train him for twenty. If twenty isn’t enough, thirty. If thirty isn’t enough, fifty. You’re still young. He’s still young. You’ve got all the time in the world. Keep it in the family—don’t waste it on me.”
Chong Ming went quiet for a beat. “If Sui Xuan Chu knew you were arranging his life like this, he’d be so furious he’d refuse to speak to you.”
Far away in the school dorm, Sui Xuan Chu still hadn’t slept or even washed up. He was grinding through paperwork when he sneezed several times in a row.
He had the distinct feeling his uncle was cursing him—cursing him for handling work badly, too slowly, for being clumsy and useless.
He rubbed his nose, forced himself to focus, and let himself daydream: when his roommate’s babies were born, he’d raise them the way his uncle raised him. He’d train his roommate’s cubs and make them do all the work for him.
Jiang Tea Tea didn’t care. “If he won’t talk to me, then he won’t talk to me. Small stuff.”
Chong Ming arched a brow and held his paperwork toward her. “Here. If you can’t sleep and you’re full of energy, help me handle this.”
Jiang Tea Tea’s eyes flew open. “Me? Handle your work? Chong Ming, are you pushing your luck?”
Chong Ming smiled. “I’m openly and reasonably making use of you.”
Jiang Tea Tea refused without hesitation. “No. I’m sleepy. I’m going to bed.”
She stood so fast it was like she was afraid she’d accidentally start working. She tossed the pillow aside and hurried away, barefoot.
Her pajamas were a loose top and short pajama shorts that ended at her thighs.
It hit Chong Ming harder than it should have.
His eyes swept over her legs. Dark turbulence stirred in his gaze, and scales rippled up over the back of his hand.
“Jiang Tea Tea,” he called hoarsely.
She stopped and turned. “What?”
“Go change into longer pajama pants.”
Jiang Tea Tea blinked and looked herself over. Loose top. Loose shorts. Nothing inappropriate showing.
“I’m fine like this,” she said. “It’s cool and comfortable.”
Chong Ming’s eyes darkened. “It is fine. The problem is my self-control. You walking around like that in front of me makes my heat flare up.”
Jiang Tea Tea froze.
Was he sick?
Bare feet and a bit of leg, and he was talking about heat?
If she stripped naked in front of him, would he just devour her?
She glared, huffed, and walked into the bedroom without changing a thing.
Left behind, Chong Ming pulled out a heat-suppressant injection and drove it into his neck.
When he withdrew the needle, half the lights in the huge bedroom went dark. Only his side remained lit; the area near Jiang Tea Tea’s bed was already shadowed.
Jiang Tea Tea climbed into bed and checked her belly again. Only after she confirmed she didn’t feel anything like imminent labor—nothing like what Cheng Yuan had described—did she finally relax and fall asleep.
But not long after, discomfort bloomed in her belly, followed by a sudden, violent cramp.
She muffled a groan and snapped her eyes open, instinctively clapping a hand over her stomach as her body curled inward.
“What’s wrong?” Chong Ming appeared at her side in an instant, voice tight. “Are you feeling unwell?”
Before bed, Jiang Tea Tea had taken off her lightbrain, her storage buttons, and the labor-detection band Cheng Yuan gave her, setting them on the bedside table.
Now the cramping came with a heavy sinking sensation, like something was pushing downward—like she was about to give birth.
Her heart slammed. Fighting the pain, she forced her voice steady. “I’m fine. The cub just stirred around a bit.”
“Um… are you done with your work? Why haven’t you washed up and come to bed?”
Go wash. Go into the bathroom.
Then she could slip into the mountains and give birth.
She’d checked before sleeping. Those little bastards were pulling a surprise attack.
Chong Ming studied her, worry sharpening. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
Jiang Tea Tea released her stomach and sat up. “I’m sure. Hurry and wash up, then come to bed.”
It was the first time she’d ever urged him like this—impatient, insistent. Chong Ming felt oddly flattered, and even more suspicious.
But her expression looked normal. He reached out and pressed his hand to her forehead. “Really? You’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jiang Tea Tea said quickly. “Go wash up and come to bed.”
He touched her forehead, and she didn’t even swat his hand away.
Chong Ming’s gaze sank deeper. “All right. I’ll wash now. You sleep first.”
Jiang Tea Tea nodded and pulled the blanket over herself.
Chong Ming watched her for another beat, then stepped back and headed toward the bathroom.
The pain in Jiang Tea Tea’s belly tightened like a vice. She barely heard him move. She sat up, ready to use Shrink Earth to an Inch and get out of there—
—and then, with the next cramp, a rush of warmth spilled from her body.
She froze.
Her mind went blank, buzzing. It felt like all her magic power vanished in a single breath. She reached into her shorts, fingers trembling.
Her hand came away holding something slick—tiny, not even as long as her two middle fingers, about as thick as her pinky. Its eyes were still shut, scales not yet grown in, but it was golden all over, wriggling like a loach.
A newborn dragon cub.
“Jiang Tea Tea, you’re really fi—” Chong Ming’s voice cut off mid-sentence.
He hadn’t gone into the bathroom at all. Uneasy, he’d turned back the moment he stepped away—and returned just in time to see her holding a squirming little golden dragon in her hands.
His golden eyes tightened, pupils constricting. The question in his throat twisted into shock.
“Jiang Tea Tea… a dragon cub.”
His voice broke, raw with disbelief.
“Our dragon cub was born.”