Little Pink Starfish

Just a moment ago, Ning Jiayi was basking in joy, believing all his calculated sacrifices had finally paid off. But now, he felt ice-cold from head to toe.

Disgust, fear, rage—all kinds of negative emotions churned in his chest like acid, burning so badly it hurt to breathe. Even though Lu Zhizhao was sitting right next to him and he was forcing himself to maintain his composure, Ning Jiayi couldn’t suppress the overwhelming malice rising within him. He glared fiercely at Su Liang, digging his nails into his palm until they drew blood.

How could this be?

He knew for certain that Su Liang had always been a plain, unremarkable Beta. But the aura Su Liang was radiating now was unmistakably that of an Omega.

And not just any Omega…
His level—

What the hell was going on with his level?

Ning Jiayi had never, ever felt this kind of presence from another Omega before—powerful, calm, warm… with absolutely no aggression, yet his body instinctively trembled and recoiled in submission.

It was as if his very instincts wanted to kneel before the other.

The mental disgust clashing with his body’s fear made Ning Jiayi feel utterly disoriented. Thankfully, Lu Zhizhao’s reaction wasn’t much better. Hearing the sound of the glass tipping over, Ning Jiayi snapped back to attention and turned to Lu Zhizhao, immediately sensing something wrong.

They had a high compatibility rate—he could feel the turbulence in Lu Zhizhao’s aura.

“Zhizhao, calm down,” he said through gritted teeth.

Then, unable to resist, he added in a sharp, twisted tone: “Why is Brother Su Liang with your uncle tonight? Isn’t that strange?”

Even though the provocation was blatant, Ning Jiayi couldn’t help himself.

After all, his long-awaited moment of glory had just been completely ruined by Su Liang’s appearance.

But he regretted it almost instantly.

Because the moment those words left his mouth, Lu Zhizhao’s expression turned terrifying.

Creak—

Ning Jiayi could almost hear the sound of Lu Zhizhao’s clenched teeth grinding together. A vein on the side of his face twitched violently.

He looked like he was about to snap.

“Zhizhao, d-don’t be rash…”

Ning Jiayi swallowed hard and reached out to grab his arm.

Lu Zhizhao whipped his head around and stared at him with a dark, dangerous look.

“Zhizhao?!”

It was a long time before Ning Jiayi heard him let out a dry, hoarse laugh.

“Rash?” Lu Zhizhao scoffed coldly.

His thin face was twisted with fury, but outwardly, he returned to his seat.

He didn’t look at Ning Jiayi again, but Ning Jiayi could hear the whisper that squeezed through his dry lips:

“No one would ever allow me to be rash.”

Lu Zhizhao murmured.

Even though he had already known Su Liang had betrayed him and hooked up with his own uncle, seeing it with his own eyes still sent his brain into a spiral of emptiness.

The desire to kill, the urge to destroy, boiled violently in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to rip that man—his so-called uncle—into shreds.

But the moment he made a subtle move, he could feel several pairs of eyes lock onto him from the shadows.

The servers with warm smiles.

The junior noble in the corner.

The woman at another noble’s side, her beauty flawless.

Even the famous singer surrounded by admirers.

…

Their glances seemed casual, but the cold precision behind them instantly snapped Lu Zhizhao back to his senses.

If not for his past-life experiences, he might not have recognized the deadly, calculated surveillance web they represented.

They were all members of the Viper unit.

And Lu Zhizhao was sure there were more hiding in the grand hall.

Just for Su Liang’s appearance… that man had set up a defense this tight?

No matter how much his rage clawed at him, Lu Zhizhao bit it back, sat down, and watched—watched from afar as Su Liang leaned gently into Lu Taipan’s arms and approached.

What he didn’t know was that at that very moment, Su Liang had also quietly shifted his gaze away from a certain corner of the room.

Seeing Lu Zhizhao sit back down, the slender youth finally relaxed.

When he entered the banquet hall, he’d heard Lu Zheng’en publicly announce the engagement between Lu Zhizhao and Ning Jiayi. He also felt Lu Zhizhao’s intense stare and immediately realized he was here.

His heart had been in his throat the entire time.

After all, Lu Zhizhao had already lost control on the spaceship. He really didn’t want another scene during the Golden Night with so many people watching. Luckily, after Lu Family’s treatment, Lu Zhizhao seemed to have stabilized…

Just as Su Liang thought this, he suddenly took a sharp step forward, as if startled.

Lu Taipan leaned slightly and spoke lowly into his ear.

Su Liang: …

Before the banquet, Lu Taipan had casually mentioned that Lu Zheng’en was planning to announce Lu Zhizhao’s engagement during the event. He’d said it so flatly, like commenting on the weather.

But if he truly didn’t care… why bring it up at all?

At the time, Su Liang had looked at his awkward Alpha with a mix of helplessness and amusement.

He had wanted to tell him: he already knew.

In his last life, he had even attended that very wedding. It didn’t matter anymore.

The one acting odd was Lu Taipan himself. He usually treated Lu Zhizhao with cold indifference, sometimes even contempt, but when it came to jealousy, he behaved like an overgrown teenage boy with barely grown stubble.

Of course, Su Liang didn’t have the heart to call him out on it. Because even in this clumsy, possessive jealousy…

Mr. Si was a little bit… cute.

“Okay, I’m not looking anymore,” Su Liang said gently, smiling up at him.

As soon as he made the promise, the cold edge in Lu Taipan’s scent instantly disappeared.

Su Liang couldn’t help but chuckle softly. A sweet ache bloomed in his chest.

He also had to admit, the topic of Lu Zhizhao had served as a decent distraction, easing some of his nerves.

Because the stares—so many of them, so intense—were making it hard for him to stay composed.

In the center of the hall stood a round table. One of the seats was empty.

It was different from the rest—its curved backrest was carved with a vivid, terrifying serpent.

There was no nameplate, no title.

But everyone in the Earth Federation knew whom that seat belonged to.

It was the Serpent Throne—reserved for Lu Taipan alone, symbol of supreme power and the true foundation of the Lu Family’s might.

Lu Zheng’en had coveted it for years. He had tried time and again to convince the Grand Marshal to let him sit in it as acting head of the Lu Family.

But he was always brushed off.

Even if the Marshal agreed, those seated around the throne—commanders who had once fought beside Lu Taipan—would never allow anyone else to sit there.

They’d fought bitterly with the Vipers after the war, but even they upheld that unspoken rule.

So over the years, the throne remained empty—until now.

Today, its true master had finally arrived.

“It’s rare to see you in person during a celebration…”

The Grand Marshal approached with a smile that had none of the usual sternness of the Federation’s highest commander. In front of Lu Taipan, he acted more like a teasing uncle than a military leader.

Lu Taipan, as always, was cold and reserved.

“Apologies for arriving late.”

“Late? Oh please, I know you hate dealing with the media before the ceremony anyway. If I could, I would’ve arrived after it started too. Just having you here is an honor for the entire Federation…”

Su Liang blinked. Was it just him, or was even the Grand Marshal acting a bit… sycophantic?

Just as the Marshal was about to keep chatting, a sharp whistle broke the conversation.

Su Liang instinctively turned—and saw the source of the sound.

A tall, muscular Alpha with a rugged scar across his face lounged casually in his chair, feet up on the table.

He looked like a grizzly bear.

Su Liang was momentarily stunned.

It was Lin Yifei, commander of the Third Army of the Earth Alliance—hero of the Canaan War, second only to Lu Taipan.

Unlike the reclusive Lu Taipan, Lin Yifei was a regular headline on the Starnet.

Su Liang had assumed most of those reports were exaggerated. But seeing him now—acting this boldly even in front of the Grand Marshal—he wasn’t so sure.

The man was clearly unruly by nature.

Lu Taipan frowned and cast a sharp glance at Lin Yifei.

The other Alpha was like an eyesore in his view.

But Lin Yifei didn’t care at all. He grinned and spoke even more cheekily:

“Wow, Old Snake, so the rumors are true? You actually found someone? Isn’t it supposed to be statistically impossible for an S-level Alpha to find a matching Omega? What, you didn’t hire an actor just to show off, did you?”

He lowered his legs and, with barely a flicker, appeared right in front of Su Liang.

So fast it was like teleportation.

He leaned in, grinning roguishly. But the moment his eyes met Su Liang’s, he froze.

A flash of awe flickered through his gaze.

“Beautiful one, may I have your contact number?” He pointed to himself. “Unlike that grumpy guy beside you, I’m newly single—”

Before he could finish, Su Liang saw Lin Yifei’s face twist suddenly as he stumbled back several steps.

“I surrender—!”

Lin Yifei raised both hands with a strained smile.

“I give up, alright? It’s not even a battlefield! Can’t I just compliment your partner?”

He was smiling, but only he knew how close he’d just come to collapsing.

That old bastard’s spiritual pressure wasn’t just strong—it was stronger than ever.

Had he not dodged in time, Lin Yifei was sure he’d be crippled.

Lu Taipan calmly stepped in front of Su Liang and blocked Lin Yifei from view, his eyes glinting with contempt.

Then he turned, gently pulled out the chair behind him, and spoke softly to Su Liang.

“Sit.”

Afterward, he glanced at the Grand Marshal as if remembering something. “You can go now.”

The Marshal flinched, forced out a polite smile, and quickly fled the standoff between the two generals.

On the other side, Lin Yifei clutched his waist and hissed, lowering himself back into his seat.

“What a damn freak…”

He couldn’t stop cursing Lu Taipan under his breath.

Once Lu Taipan was seated, the banquet resumed as normal. Speeches were made, performances began…

The original highlight—Lu Zheng’en’s announcement of the Lu-Ning engagement—had long since lost relevance.

Now, all whispers, all attention, all undercurrents… were trained solely on Su Liang and Lu Taipan.

Especially Su Liang.

He furrowed his brows slightly.

“Don’t be nervous.”

Lu Taipan noticed at once and leaned in, voice low and soothing.

His eyes were darker than usual. He reached out, gently holding Su Liang’s wrist, fingers sliding down to intertwine with his.

“I’m not nervous,” Su Liang began, then sighed. “Okay, fine—I am.”

“I didn’t expect them to keep staring…”

Even though he’d been prepared for the public reaction, he didn’t expect it to be so overwhelming.

He thought the Lu-Ning engagement would help divert attention.

Instead, all eyes were on him.

“Because you’re beautiful today,” Lu Taipan said, staring deeply at him.

To walk in together, as partners—Lu Taipan had felt immense pride. But now, that pride was starting to shift.

“I almost regret it.”

He muttered darkly.

There were too many Alphas here. Betas and Omegas too.

Too many.

All his pride and satisfaction curdled into possessive jealousy.

He shouldn’t have shown off his treasure.

He should’ve locked Su Liang away in the deepest part of his base—

So no one else could ever see him again.

He squeezed Su Liang’s hand tighter, possessive aura rolling off him in waves.

Every Alpha in the room could feel it.

“Tch.”

Around him, high-level Alphas were gritting their teeth.

Damn old monster. You found a partner, fine—but stop rubbing it in with that suffocating pheromone cloud! You trying to gas us out or what?

And worst of all, despite his brutal, dominating aura—when he turned to his Omega, he was all softness and tenderness.

“Disgusting old man…”

Lin Yifei hissed under his breath.

There were so few high-level Omegas. To find one that matched was like winning the lottery.

And Lu Taipan—damn him—had won.

You didn’t even need to check their compatibility. Just watching them interact was enough to know: this was a perfect pair.

He used to find comfort in the idea that at least Lu Taipan would die single and alone like the rest of them.

But now, even that fantasy was crushed.

All that was left… was envy.