[Jiang Lin, alpha, captain of the Seventh Legion’s mecha unit, and Lin Feng’s partner.]

Another one from the Lin family.

He just suffered a loss, and now he wants to make up for it?

Rong Shi stood up. “If you want to spar in mecha skills, I think you’d be better off finding a student from the mecha department.”

The angle of their gazes shifted—Jiang Lin found himself looking up instead of down. Instinctively, he took a step back, lessening the oppressive feeling the height difference gave him.

“I’m only interested in you.”

Jiang Lin let out a short, slightly disdainful snort from his nose. “I’ve seen your match video with Liu Hong. Honestly, your technique is really—nothing special.”

“Pfft—”

Jiang Xingze couldn’t hold back his laughter. He waved a hand. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.”

Jiang Lin chuckled too. “Lucky for you I’m free. I’ll give you some one-on-one training. For a chairman to be this bad—doesn’t that drag our standards down?”

Jiang Xingze chimed in, “Most people could only dream of getting guidance from Senior Jiang. Rong Shi, you’re really lucky.”

Rong Shi listened to their back-and-forth, his gaze calm and unruffled.

“Guidance from you? Just you?”

His tone was flat, emotionless, but the presence of someone in command made the words feel deeply contemptuous and humiliating to those who heard them.

Jiang Lin’s face darkened.

“One sentence—dare you or not?”

Knocking sounded from outside as Chen Mu, Wu Han, and other student council members arrived for a meeting.

The moment Chen Mu saw Jiang Xingze present, he knew something unusual was going on.

“Sorry, I saw the conference room was empty and came to take a look. My bad.” He exchanged a glance with Wu Han, and the two of them prepared to leave on their own.

“I’m done here too.” Rong Shi picked up the meeting notes and asked Song Yu, “Are you heading back first or waiting for me?”

Song Yu’s gaze slid over Jiang Lin before landing on Rong Shi. He smiled. “If you’re going to be a while, I’ll head back first.”

Rong Shi: “…”

“Wait for me,” Rong Shi said in a lowered voice. “I’ll make you cookies tonight.”

Song Yu: “You think giving me a little treat will make me agree?”

Rong Shi: “Won’t it?”

Song Yu thought for a moment, then reluctantly said, “Fine, for the sake of the cookies.”

Rong Shi: “…”

The little cat was getting bolder.

Neither Jiang Lin nor Jiang Xingze had expected that they’d come to issue a challenge only to be completely ignored. By the time they realized it, they were left standing there awkwardly.

When Rong Shi finally finished his sweet little exchange with Song Yu, he didn’t even glance at them before walking straight to the door.

Utterly ignored, Jiang Lin’s face burned.

He raised his voice to a near shout. “Dare you or not? Can’t even give me an answer?”

Without pausing his steps, Rong Shi replied flatly, “I’m not interested in playing with you.”

At the door, Chen Mu and Wu Han exchanged looks.

What was this? A third-year mecha department hotshot challenging the student council chairman to a duel?!

Song Yu returned to his seat and went back to reading his quantum mechanics book, leaving Jiang Xingze and Jiang Lin standing there like a pair of candles.

It was excruciatingly awkward.

Jiang Lin had never suffered this kind of humiliation.

His eyes shifted to Song Yu, anger rising.

“Won’t even agree to a spar? How does someone that spineless get to be chairman?” Jiang Lin sneered. “I bet I could pull a random freshman who’s stronger than him.”

Song Yu leisurely took a sip of coffee and flipped to the next page.

The worst feeling was putting your full strength into a punch only for it to sink into cotton.

Too infuriating.

“Looking like that, you’re not an omega, are you?” Jiang Lin planted one foot on the coffee table in front of Song Yu and said in a mocking, sing-song tone, “No wonder you’re shacking up with an alpha—”

The moment Jiang Xingze heard him aiming his words at Song Yu, his heart sank.

Lin Feng had already warned them before—don’t get into direct conflict with Song Yu.

“Senior Jiang, since he’s not here, why don’t we—”

Before he could finish persuading him, a flash of cold light cut across his vision. Jiang Lin gasped and staggered back several steps, his ankle bleeding.

With a loud thunk, a bloodstained fruit knife embedded itself into the table at a slant.

“My wife doesn’t like me hitting people.” Song Yu slowly lifted his eyelids, his tone icy. “But I don’t have his good temper. Next time, it’ll be your Achilles tendon I cut.”

“You—!”

“Senior!”

Jiang Lin gritted his teeth and tried to rush forward, but Jiang Xingze stopped him.

Catching Jiang Xingze’s warning glance, Jiang Lin clenched his jaw so hard it ached, then stormed out of the office in fury.

Jiang Xingze’s heart was still pounding. Seeing Song Yu return to his book as if nothing had happened, his eyes darkened slightly before he followed Jiang Lin out.

In the conference room, Chen Mu was half-listening, half-distracted, as he secretly messaged his older brother.

[Crap crap crap! Jiang Lin just challenged Chairman Rong to a solo match! What do we do, bro? I think the chairman’s not gonna be able to handle it this time!]

No matter how strong Rong Shi was, he was still just a freshman with barely three months in school. How could he possibly match someone like Jiang Lin, who’d had professional mecha training and rich combat experience?!

Chen Chen, in class and yawning, perked right up when he saw the message.

He opened the small squad group they’d made during the league and forwarded it.

[Old Chen: This is messed up! Even the third-years are jumping in. Is it too late to start mecha special training now? @Old Liu]

Liu Hong, skipping class in the cafeteria with afternoon tea, crushed his fried chicken drumstick in one hand when he read it.

“What the hell is wrong with these people?!”

[Old Liu: I’ve fought Jiang Lin before—lost badly. There’s only one way—don’t fight. If he fights, he’ll definitely lose.]

Right now, with all the public attention, if Rong Shi lost—no matter how big the gap in ability—haters would still drag him through the mud.

[Old Bai: I don’t know where his confidence comes from, but I don’t think Rong will necessarily lose.]

[Old Chen: If he loses, his prestige in the student council will take a huge hit. We can’t gamble on that.]

While the group was buzzing, the man in question remained entirely unaffected.

Rong Shi didn’t take such childish provocation seriously at all.

Lu Ming handed over a roster of the “He Xingshou” team for approval. “See if anything needs changing?”

Rong Shi gave it a glance. “Looks fine.”

In less than ten minutes, the planning meeting was over.

The student council members were used to it by now.

Rong Shi was practically the reincarnation of a salted fish—whenever a proposal came to him, it passed 100%, and he behaved like a hands-off manager.

“If there’s nothing else, let’s adjourn.”

He closed the notebook and stood.

“Chairman, you’ve handed everything inside and out to Brother Lu. People might think Brother Lu’s the real chairman.” Zhao Wan smiled brightly, but his words had barbs.

The literature department head chimed in, “Brother Lu is so busy—he’s been posting notices past 1 a.m. several times. Forget dating, at this rate he won’t even have time for training.”

The words “dating” were a clear jab at Rong Shi.

The vice chairman was running himself ragged, while the chairman just lounged around spending his time dating.

In comparison, Rong Shi looked bad.

Lu Ming’s peripheral vision caught Rong Shi’s expression. The corners of his eyes held amusement, but when he looked up, his face was all seriousness. “There’s nothing to say about division of duties. This week, let’s all work hard. I’ll treat you to milk tea later.”

“Woohoo! Thanks, Father Lu!”

“Thanks, Brother Lu! I want mango pomelo sago!”

Chen Mu watched the group cheer for milk tea, then looked over at Rong Shi, who said nothing and left alone.

Closing his notebook, Chen Mu quickly chased after him.

“Chairman!”

Hearing the call, Rong Shi turned his head.

“What is it?”

Chen Mu hesitated, unsure how to comfort him, afraid he’d get impatient. Then, bracing himself—

“I—I like you more!”

Rong Shi: “……”

After saying it, Chen Mu frowned. That didn’t sound right.

“I mean, you might not be as detail-oriented as Lu Ming, but I like working under you better.”

…Was this supposed to be comforting?

Rong Shi was a little amused. “It’s fine. What they said is true.”

“But—” The words stuck in Chen Mu’s throat, and suddenly he realized maybe the big boss didn’t need comforting at all.

Relaxing, he grinned. “Good luck with your missions! Get promoted soon—my brother and I already decided that once we join the military, we’ll follow you!”

Rong Shi lowered his eyes with a slight smile. “I’ll work hard.”

Chen Mu was stunned.

The chairman… smiled?

Hell must have frozen over.

Knowing Rong Shi didn’t like to talk much, Chen Mu, having said his piece, was about to leave when—

“Have you decided on your major?” Rong Shi asked.

Caught off guard, Chen Mu shook his head. “Not yet. My family wants me to study mecha. My brother says military command is good. I think both are fine—don’t really like or dislike either.”

Rong Shi listened seriously before suggesting, “You have real talent in network and intelligent systems development. You should consider it.”

“Really?!” Being acknowledged by someone he admired sent Chen Mu soaring. “I do like that field, but my family says it’d only make me a programmer with no future… and I’ll go bald.”

Rong Shi: “…” Bald?

“A top programmer can control legion weapon systems and, in critical moments, change the course of a battle—turning the tide.” Rong Shi’s voice was low. “In my eyes, a network specialist in the legion is second in importance only to the commander.”

“Damn, that sounds badass!” Chen Mu was dazed, practically floating.

What to do—he wanted to graduate right now and work for Rong Shi.

Having a superior who appreciated you was priceless.

When Chen Mu left, Rong Shi turned to head back to his office.

Looking up, he saw a certain little cat leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching silently—who knew for how long.

Song Yu’s smile was bright. “Got confessed to. Feeling happy?”

Rong Shi closed the door and walked out with him. “Did a certain cat fall into the vinegar jar?”

Song Yu’s voice was cool. “Why didn’t you give me guidance on my future?”

Rong Shi replied calmly, “Your future is to be my wife. There are no other options. What’s there to guide?”

Song Yu: “…”

Having promised the little kitten cookies, Rong Shi returned to the dorm to get started.

“Why am I the one making them?” Song Yu, wearing an apron and with hands covered in sticky dough, frowned in displeasure. “Weren’t you making them for me to eat?”

“You’re the one eating them,” Rong Shi said, tipping in the chopped cranberries. “Stir.”

Song Yu: “…” Damn.

He had a dark expression, his stirring motions clumsy.

Rong Shi’s lips curved upward. He walked over, stood behind him, and guided his hands. “Do you have a grudge against the flour? Stirring like this—so clumsy.”

For a prince to lower himself to making cookies by hand was already a rare concession, yet here he was, still complaining.

Song Yu snorted, turning his head aside. “Kiss me.”

Rong Shi raised an eyebrow at him.

Song Yu added, “Labor fee.”

Rong Shi: “You’re making cookies for yourself. Why should I pay you?”

Song Yu: “Are you giving it or not? If not, I’m leaving.”

They stared each other down for a moment before Rong Shi yielded first, leaning in slightly.

The corner of Song Yu’s lips lifted as he met him halfway.

But just as they were about to touch, Rong Shi leaned back.

“If you leave, I’ll make them for Mian Mian instead.”

Song Yu: “…”

Dead rabbit! Could you be a decent human for once?!

Just as Song Yu was about to resort to violence to defend his legal rights as a partner, a sudden warmth brushed his lips.

Rong Shi lightly bit him, chuckling low. “No labor fee, but kisses—I can give you as many as you want.”

Song Yu’s interest was piqued. He wrapped himself around him in a kiss, then, unsatisfied, turned fully to hug his neck and practiced a thorough, wet kiss.

In a brief pause for air, Rong Shi murmured, “Your hands are covered in flour.”

Song Yu caught his breath. “It’s fine, I’ll wash them later.”

Rong Shi: “I meant—don’t get it in my hair.”

Song Yu: “…”

Song Yu: “Will this shut you up?”

Rong Shi: “…”

Eventually, the two troublemakers remembered they were supposed to be making cookies and lazily stuck the dough into molds for freezing.

While waiting, Song Yu checked the report his subordinates had sent.

“In half a month, this is the third type of pheromone stimulant traced back to the Omega Rights Organization.”

On the surface, the organization was a charity with no income stream. In secret, it made money by distributing stimulants.

“They’re using stimulant profits to fund Omega ‘modification’ programs,” Song Yu said coldly. “Rotten to the core.”

“First, gather evidence of the organization and its collusion with military hospitals. When it’s time to pull the net, wipe them all out at once.” Rong Shi’s fingers tapped on a virtual keyboard. “Don’t make too much noise—if they change their transaction methods, we’ll have to start over.”

Song Yu: “Mm. But if we’re too lax, they’ll be alerted anyway.”

He sent a reply and closed the terminal, noticing Rong Shi was still typing—a rapid stream of characters flashing by on the screen.

“What program are you making?”

Rong Shi: “Mm.”

Rong Shi: “Making a little brother for 01.”

A chuckle sounded by his ear, followed by Song Yu leaning against his shoulder, voice laced with innuendo. “Ge, you’re blushing.”

Rong Shi: “…”

Song Yu deliberately whispered in his ear, “If you’ve got time to care about 01’s little brother, why not care about mine instead?”

Rong Shi: “…”

Late at night, someone calling himself Jiang Lin posted a battle challenge on the military academy forum, publicly declaring he wanted to face Rong Shi in a mecha duel.

When some replied doubting his identity, he quickly responded with a freshly taken photo of himself.

The post exploded—

“Holy crap! Stirring up trouble, huh?”

“Senior Jiang challenging President Rong? A showdown of presidents?! I’m fired up!”

“This is gonna be exciting!”

“Uh… this might not be good? President Rong is only a first-year.”

“Rank doesn’t matter for powerhouses. I think this challenge is perfectly reasonable.”

“Ahhh I’m hyped again!”

By late night, the topic #PresidentRongComeAcceptTheChallenge# had been pinned to the forum’s front page.

Tens of thousands of cadets signed the thread, urging Rong Shi to accept.

The next day, Rong Shi arrived at class without a clue, only to be blocked at the door.

Before he could figure out what was going on, Principal Li Huating and Qian Fan arrived one after the other.

“Principal. Elder Qian.” Rong Shi nodded slightly in greeting.

Li Huating: “Rong Shi, this year’s mecha competition has drawn high-level military attention. As the freshman president, you ought to participate.”

Hearing this, Rong Shi immediately understood.

After Jiang Lin was refused yesterday, he must’ve gone to Lin Feng, who pressured the principal. The principal, completely unable to withstand pressure, was now here.

Rong Shi didn’t bother to play along. “And if I refuse?”

Li Huating frowned. “I’d suggest you participate.”

Qian Fan had been silent the whole time, expression dark. Now he spoke: “The competition isn’t mandatory. Since he’s unwilling, then—”

“How about we decide with a quiz?” Li Huating cut him off, looking at Rong Shi. “If you pass, you don’t have to compete. How about that?”

Rong Shi: “…”

Anything involving quizzes was never a good sign.

Elder Qian had clearly been shielding him, but it hadn’t worked.

Rong Shi didn’t want to trouble him further. At this point, not competing would cause more trouble than competing.

Just as he was about to agree, Song Yu suddenly spoke.

“Rong Shi doesn’t want to compete because he doesn’t want to take someone else’s prize slot.” Song Yu smiled at Li Huating and Qian Fan. “Since the principal has spoken and the higher-ups care so much, why not have Rong Shi and Jiang Lin do an opening exhibition match? It’ll fire everyone up.”

Not wanting to take a slot—what an arrogant thing to say!

As if competing guaranteed winning a place.

If anyone else had said this, they’d be laughed at.

But coming from Song Yu? No one dared laugh.

Rong Shi: “I don’t mind.”

Li Huating glanced warily at Song Yu, then nodded. “Alright, we’ll do that.”

As long as the higher-ups’ request was fulfilled, that was enough.

Once the news spread, Friday’s registration numbers spiked, many joining just for the bragging rights of “competing in the same event as President Rong.”

Saturday night, the mecha competition opened with an online livestream.

In a sharp, tailored military academy uniform, gold sash on his right shoulder marking his status as president, Rong Shi stood before the camera to deliver the opening address.

The barrage of “ahhh” and “oooh” in the live comments broke records.

“President Rong is so handsome!”

“Every inch of President Rong’s skin is exactly my type!”

“Another day of being hopelessly smitten.”

“I’m a steel-hearted alpha, and even I might bend for him, sob.”

“Two top alphas dueling! Just imagining it makes my nose bleed.”

“Go Senior Jiang! President Rong isn’t your match!”

While Rong Shi was away, Song Yu put the two little ones to bed.

“Put to bed” meaning he sat there while they changed into pajamas and lay down, telling each other bedtime stories until they drifted off.

He scrolled through the livestream comments, eyes turning cold.

Before the match started, he contacted Qin Zhuo.

Qin Zhuo appeared on-screen. “Your Highness, are you sure it’s proper for you to contact me directly like this lately?”

Song Yu was unconcerned. “It’s fine. As long as I stay connected to Rong Shi, the Qin family is safe.”

The Qin family’s standing in the Empire was second only to the throne—unless the palace itself applied pressure, no one could touch them.

Qin Zhuo kept his expression neutral. “You’re the one who best knows what kind of ‘connection’ you should keep with Rong Shi.”

Song Yu gave him a long, deep look, then changed the subject. “How’s the intel on the Lin family? I want Lin Feng to take a major fall soon.”

Qin Zhuo: “It’s ready. But—what’s the justification?”

The same act, with different motives, could have drastically different consequences.

Song Yu’s smile was ice-cold. “Lin Feng’s gone after my people over and over. Isn’t that reason enough? With my temper, it’s a miracle I’ve tolerated him this long.”

The opening speech ended. As usual, the first match should have begun—but this year, a special exhibition match came first.

Qian Fan made a rare appearance as commentator.

The simulation system opened—and immediately crashed from overload.

Once inside, viewers had to queue outside the match room.

Rong Shi entered the familiar prep zone, but his thoughts were on a certain little cat.

Playing this sort of match was far less fun than duo-queuing games with his kitten.

Better to finish quickly and get back to the dorm.

“Hello everyone, I’m Song Yu.”

Rong Shi: “…” Again?

The spectators inside: “???”

Wasn’t Elder Qian supposed to be commentating?

“Elder Qian had something come up, so I’ll be commentating this match.”

Song Yu’s voice was as relaxed and lazy as ever—lethally pleasant. “First, the usual rules: betting is now open. Those who don’t place a bet will be kicked within two minutes.”

Comments—

“Ahhh his voice alone is worth the ticket price!”

“Song beauty’s voice is sooo good!”

“Lol is history about to repeat itself?”

“Hahaha it’s like I’ve traveled back a few months.”

The teachers watching shivered, recalling the infamous ‘Run laps shouting “Daddy Rong”’ incident, their faces turning green.

Song Yu was utterly at ease with making up extra rules.

“Our usual terms: if Rong Shi wins, Jiang Lin will lead his team—and all the losers who bet wrong—on 100 laps around the A-Dorms, shouting ‘Daddy Rong, I was wrong’ the whole way.”

The comment section exploded in laughter.

“If Rong Shi loses—” Song Yu’s voice dripped with amusement, “—then we’ll punish ourselves with a public three-minute kiss. How’s that sound, brother?”

Rong Shi: “…”

__

Author’s note: 

Song Cat: How could a kitty have any bad intentions? [Innocent]
Rong Bunny: … #Can I withdraw from the match?