Chapter 87: Rut’s Not Over Yet?!

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

Lu Yao demanded perfection in his work. Standing before a mecha or at the lab bench, Chief Engineer Lu’s expression was always cold and severe, like unyielding ice. He had little interest in, and often disdain for, most social interactions, convinced that people only wasted his time with meaningless chatter. The aura he gave off warned others to keep their distance, like an untouchable peak of ice and stone.

But Zhou Yunchen had come to realize that keeping others at arm’s length wasn’t the entirety of Lu Yao’s nature. With Torque, he was endlessly indulgent, often falling prey to the little cat’s sly manipulations. And when the snow leopard lowered his body and brushed close, Lu Yao would tug the big cat over and hold him, burying his face in soft fur.

Perhaps in some hidden corner of his consciousness, Lu Yao revealed the gentlest version of himself only to these harmless, fragile creatures—sides that most people would never witness, let alone understand.

“Finished working?” Lu Yao asked, catching Zhou Yunchen’s hand. “Mm.” Zhou Yunchen suddenly frowned. “You’ve been sitting here all this time? Haven’t you looked at the clock?”

Lu Yao blinked. “No.” Across the vast universe, searing starlight poured quietly from light-years away. The fleets weren’t rotating, and the blazing sun outside no longer offered the rhythm of day and night. “It’s been eighteen hours,” Zhou Yunchen said, a worried crease forming between his brows. “You didn’t take a single break?”

“I forgot.”

“Go get some sleep.”

“Mm…” For a moment, Lu Yao felt as if General Zhou’s virtuous-husband aura had switched on again. His entire frame seemed cloaked in a strange glow, soft yet unwavering, like a saintly radiance. Coupled with his sharp, commanding features, the effect was downright uncanny.

When Lu Yao hesitated, Zhou Yunchen shifted his hand from Lu Yao’s shoulder, bent down, and scooped him up by the waist, setting him down on the bed.

The General’s bed was neither soft nor wide, but it was still leagues better than the narrow cot Lu Yao had cobbled together with a mechanical arm. Bending down, Zhou Yunchen helped him out of his coat and shoes, then pulled the covers over him. “Sleep.”

Lu Yao looked at him. “I’m not a robot. I can’t shut down and power off just because you give a command.”

Zhou Yunchen paused, considering. “Wait a moment.”

He stepped into the bathroom to wash up, then shed his stiff, metal-trimmed uniform. Clad only in a thin undershirt, he returned to the bed and pulled Lu Yao into his arms as the other man stared blankly at the ceiling. He remembered how Lu Yao liked to fall asleep hugging the snow leopard, using the great cat’s belly or foreleg as a pillow. With the leopard absent, Zhou Yunchen offered his chest and arm instead.

The cannons between fleets had fallen briefly silent, the Ares no longer trembling from bombardment. Outside, a massive planet rolled slowly on its axis.

Lu Yao rested against Zhou Yunchen’s chest, the General’s palm pressing lightly to his shoulder in a steady rhythm. “Close your eyes. Rest.”

Lu Yao detected no scent—only the shared warmth circulating in the confined space. He suspected Zhou Yunchen’s rut was flaring again, so he gradually released pheromones to soothe him. Lu Yao’s consciousness drifted into sleep under the gentle caress. Zhou Yunchen, however, grew sharper, more awake, a headache blooming. He had dug himself into a hole.

His rut had long since ended. At this point, an omega’s pheromones no longer meant comfort alone—they triggered. Lu Yao’s breathing deepened into steady sleep, while every breath Zhou Yunchen took grew tighter, heavier. He had pressed himself against Lu Yao again.

Lu Yao remained on the Ares for another two days. It was now the sixth day of Zhou Yunchen’s supposed rut, yet the General showed no sign of recovery. No matter if he left to work for four hours, eight, even twelve—whenever he returned, he would lower his lashes, slip into silence, and edge close again, clinging to Lu Yao as though even the briefest separation stripped him of his sense of safety.

Lu Yao struggled to imagine it. Did Zhou Yunchen really go into battle with that expression? Didn’t the soldiers of the Silver Halberd Fleet feel as though they were already on the verge of collapse?

Even setting appearances aside, such a prolonged rut could damage an alpha’s mental strength and stability. When Zheng Qian, the orderly, brought Lu Yao a nutrient vial, Lu Yao asked, “Have Zhou Yunchen’s ruts always lasted this long?”

Zheng Qian looked startled. “I’m not sure. General Zhou rarely goes into rut at all. But the military doctor has specialized instruments to measure and estimate how long it’ll last. Chief Engineer, would you like one?”

Lu Yao nodded, and Zheng Qian went to fetch the device. There were two ways to use it. One was environment testing: placing the instrument in a closed space recently occupied by the alpha to analyze residual pheromone molecules. Their concentration and structure could predict how long the rut might last. The second was direct testing: pressing the stamp-sized device against the alpha’s gland to see whether rut was active.

Lu Yao first tested the air in Zhou Yunchen’s quarters. The results showed the concentration of rut pheromones was already extremely low. That meant the period was ending—or had already ended.

Relieved, Lu Yao began to pack his luggage. But hours later, when Zhou Yunchen returned, he once again wrapped Lu Yao in a fragile, silent embrace. After a brief nap, he trudged back toward the Ares’s bridge, steps heavy. Lu Yao: ???

He stood by the window, staring into the vast darkness of the lonely universe for ten minutes. Then he turned away from the rest area and walked toward Zhou Yunchen’s office.

At the corner of the corridor, a duty officer spotted Lu Yao and raised his hand in salute. “Chief Engineer Lu, are you looking for General Zhou?”

“Yes. Is he in his office?”

“He is. General Zhou is discussing the recent battle situation with several generals. Do you need me to announce you?”

“No, wait.” Lu Yao stopped the officer, then noticed Zhao Minghe standing at the door of Zhou Yunchen’s office. He stepped back, slipping his figure into the shadows of the corner.

The office door opened, and a low, angry reprimand spilled through the crack, drifting down the corridor. The duty officer noticed Lu Yao frown at the sound, and worry flickered in his heart for General Zhou’s personal life. Omegas disliked overly domineering alphas. Or rather, no one—aside from the alpha’s mate—would want such a forceful man in that role. The officer tried to explain. “Actually, the General isn’t usually like this.”

Lu Yao arched his brow. “But recently he’s been… full of energy?”

“Uh, yes. But only the past day or two. After the exercise went poorly and General Zhou took full command again, he became much more aggressive.” Aggressive. More like pitiful, Lu Yao thought.

A group of star-wearing generals stumbled out of Zhou Yunchen’s office, gray-faced and panting as if barely escaping alive. Zhou Yunchen had just played the bad cop. His aide, Zhao Minghe, instantly stepped forward to play the good cop, offering steadying hands, sympathetic smiles, and soothing words, all without the slightest flush of embarrassment.

Once the generals were sent off, Zhao Minghe carefully reset his expression, ready for the next wave of terrified officers. Minutes later, two colonels all but fled backward out the door. Zhao Minghe’s polite smile froze, horror flashing in his eyes.

Lu Yao had appeared out of nowhere. He strode toward Zhou Yunchen’s office, gave Zhao Minghe a quick nod, but didn’t slow his steps. Before Zhao Minghe could block him or warn the General, Lu Yao had already slipped inside through the gap the colonels left. The heavy doors slammed shut.

“Commander Zhou, the defensive lapse on the fleet’s left wing was indeed my fault, but I believe the responsibility also lies—”

Behind the desk, Zhou Yunchen stood tall, immaculate in his uniform, his mouth set in a hard line. His commanding presence filled the room, pressing down like storm clouds over a city. The reporting major general faltered, his words cut short.

Those sharp, hawk-like eyes snapped toward the intruder. Zhou Yunchen’s pupils contracted as he shot upright from his chair. Lu Yao, having entered, slowed his pace and walked toward him. His chin lifted slightly, his face expressionless. “Sit.”

The spacious commander’s office seemed to shrink, the very air compressed, suffocating. The major general glanced between them, stunned, as Lu Yao’s steady footsteps drummed like a warbeat. Under that silent command, Zhou Yunchen sank back into his seat, his head following Lu Yao’s movement, his fierce expression wavering between loosening and hardening.

Lu Yao stopped behind the chair, resting a hand on Zhou Yunchen’s shoulder. The cold edge of a general’s star dug into his palm. Looking at the major general, he said, “Please, continue. I don’t want to interfere with your work.”

“Y-yes… I also believe the fault lies with me. I failed to assign the right men to the right posts…” The major general’s earlier speech evaporated. Words tumbled from his mouth unchecked, stripped of excuses and pretense. His brain could no longer process the calculations of blame-shifting.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Lu Yao—an ice peak standing behind Zhou Yunchen—slipping a slender device toward the General’s neck. The major-general’s mind thundered in shock. Was he about to witness Chief Engineer Lu murder his own partner?

Zhou Yunchen felt it too. First the warmth of Lu Yao’s hand, then the cold press of some object against the nape of his neck. His muscles locked tight. He didn’t dare turn his head. Beep— A soft chime sounded. Lu Yao withdrew his hand.

The major general, sensing the storm, rushed to finish his report. Every failing, every fault, he claimed as his own. He would not waste a single second trying to deflect. 

Zhou Yunchen steadied his voice. “The next strike formation will be handed to Colonel Hu of the Second Squadron. Patch the holes in your defense line and report back to me once it’s secure.”

The major general fled, desperate not to remain another second. The door closed again, silence returning to the office.

“Yaoyao, what are you doing here?” Zhou Yunchen finally asked. The weight on his shoulder pressed harder. A moment later, the all-too-familiar heat-sensitivity tester clattered onto the desk, sliding several inches before coming to rest. On the screen glared a stark, undeniable zero. “Your rut isn’t over?”

Author’s Note:

General Zhou, you’re in danger.

 

 

This Title is available for faster chapter releases through paid Patreon membership. Any proceeds go to keeping the website running. Check it out HERE.