Yun Xuan had escaped.
No one knew how he had done it. He had used his wisdom from the Great Liang Dynasty to outwit the Empress once again.
The press release the Empress had carefully polished could no longer be sent out. She had lost her buffer—all of it, every last bit—and could only watch helplessly as the full force of the storm bore down on her.
On the imperial family.
The Empress smoked cigars in her study all night. The next day, she dispatched a starship.
Before the starship departed, she said to the commander, “I hope the war will be over by autumn, General.”
The general was a female alpha with dark skin and a prominent scar on her temple. Her lips were pressed into a firm line, and she carried herself with the solemn dignity of a noble alpha. Her brown military uniform outlined her powerful physique. Hearing the Empress’s words, the general replied in a low, steady voice, “As Your Majesty wishes.”
Just then, a rumor suddenly broke that the Omega Legion had made a deal, trading a starship for an agreement.
The Empire was in an uproar.
The situation, which had just begun to calm down, seemed to be simmering with tension once more.
At the very least, Yun Chuji and Tang Jianxi were spending less and less time at home. Tang Jianxi had to arrange for the launch of Xie Xiaoxiao’s new medication, while Yun Chuji was busy stopping violent alphas all over A-District.
That’s right, they still hadn’t gone back.
Tang Ji and Chu Yuexi had called them time and again, their words implying that A-District was now a volcano, with the eyes of the entire Empire fixed upon it. Their every move would be magnified infinitely.
They knew this, of course. They weren’t the type to find pleasure in taking risks, but they had a reason they had to stay.
Yun Xuan was still here.
At this point, they didn’t know that Yun Xuan had already escaped from the secret prison. They were still waiting for his public trial, when they would be able to see him.
It was true that Yun Xuan had done things worthy of a thousand deaths.
But since he was about to pay the price for everything he had done, Yun Chuji admitted to herself that she had never truly tried to pull him onto the right path. Her self-avoidant naivety had left her helpless in the face of Yun Xuan’s three years of isolation. In reality, there were other things she could have done, but she hadn’t. She had only been defensive, considering the worst-case scenario, and in the end, the worst-case scenario had come to pass.
And she could only resolve it through a mutually destructive method.
Yun Chuji reflected on whether she had been too cowardly. Perhaps, just as her elder brother had said, her heart and mind, being that of a woman, were incapable of shouldering any responsibility greater than the small courtyard she lived in.
But upon hearing this, Tang Jianxi pinched her cheek as she often did. Lying on top of her, Tang Jianxi’s face, as pure and flawless as moonlight, puffed out slightly, making her look quite innocent. Yet her words revealed the gentle kindness of someone older. “I once read a line in a book. It said that the way a struggle is fought determines its outcome. Anything gained through conspiracy and intrigue will ultimately be filled with conspiracy and intrigue. A future won through kindness and patience will be draped in the banners of peace. So, you don’t have to use someone else’s methods to achieve victory. Just use your own.”
“In my opinion, your way is very good, even if it isn’t fast and doesn’t chase after glory.”
“But you respect others.”
Respect. Tang Jianxi had mentioned this word, the source of all the current disputes and chaos. On the chessboard of imperial power, countless people sought greater authority, a more stable future, and more brilliant glory in the name of respect.
But they all had one thing in common: they only ever wanted others to respect them, and never realized that others needed to be respected, too.
This was true of omegas.
It was true of betas.
And it was especially true of alphas.
And so, countless repetitive and tedious disputes played out endlessly on the Empire’s stage, like a game written with only a single page of code. It had no ending and no conclusion, because a complete game cannot be built on just one page of code.
And an environment of mutual respect cannot be built solely on respect coerced by power.
This war would ultimately be for nothing. Tang Jianxi had reached this conclusion through her recent observations. The perfunctory way the Imperial Guard was fighting stood in stark contrast to the royal family’s propaganda efforts.
A war that could have ended quickly was being dragged out, pulling the entire planet of Qinglan Star into the mire.
The consequence was that the royal family, under the pretext of not harming civilians, refrained from using the starship, giving them a righteous excuse to slow the war’s progress. Yet they ignored the betas on Qinglan Star being sent to the battlefield one by one, and the AOs who had become second-class citizens under the betas’ wartime rule.
The Imperial Guard loudly condemned the “terrorist acts” of the beta reactionary forces, broadcasting scene after scene to the Empire’s citizens, stirring up even more intense resentment toward betas among the AOs within the Empire.
They were deliberately driving a wedge between betas and omegas, even hoping to use the war to permanently cement this hatred.
All to make the Howard family’s identity as beta representatives overshadow their connection to the imperial family.
The omega and beta militaries had likely never expected the royal family to go to such lengths, even using the starship to turn the tables on them.
But the royal family was very careful to maintain a bottom line. They did nothing to harm civilians during the war and even issued righteous warnings against the Howard family’s perverse actions.
They were simply not letting the war end.
This prevented both sides from getting involved, forcing them to accept this delicate balance—to accept the Empress using human lives to mend the royal family’s reputation.
However, Chu Meng did not draw a clear line with the betas as the royal family had hoped. But she could not ignore the dissenting opinions within the omega military, so the work of handing over the starship ground to an abrupt halt after being barely halfway complete.
She was waiting for the right moment.
Meanwhile, the betas’ patience was wearing thin.
The only consequence of such a war was more war.
“Your respect is precious, because you respect every single person. You would never casually erase someone’s dignity and rights as a human being, and that’s something very few people can do,” Tang Jianxi said softly, her voice tinged with a smoke-like sorrow, which she quickly concealed with a smile. “So, no matter what you do, I will support you.”
As Yun Chuji thought about these things, a look of both confusion and joy appeared on her face. She couldn’t fully grasp Tang Jianxi’s feelings, just as someone living in summer cannot comprehend the cold of winter. She was simply moved by the trust and unspoken love in those words. But that was precisely what Tang Jianxi wanted to convey to her.
The optical computer on her wrist beeped. Yun Chuji snapped back to her senses and ran quickly to the west. In the gap between two large buildings, three alphas had cornered two female betas.
They were all young citizens of the Empire, having differentiated only a little over a year ago. The alphas couldn’t even control their own pheromones yet.
Their faces showed obvious malice. They looked at the betas before them as if they’d found a pair of unwashed shoes in their shoe cabinet.
The betas were too exhausted to run anymore. They had been chased for too long, and making it this far had already pushed them beyond their physical limits.
“Is anyone coming?” one of the girls muttered to herself in fear.
The other girl didn’t answer. She just gripped her optical computer tightly, covering the red light on it.
One of the alphas rubbed his wrist and had his AI block the intersection’s surveillance camera. While this wouldn’t prevent them from ending up at the police station, it would at least delay the police’s arrival.
“You people are pretty damn wild on Qinglan Star, aren’t you?”
Hearing this, one of the betas weakly retorted, repeating the explanation that had been worn thin over the past few days, “That’s not… not us…”
One of the female alphas glared. “How is it not you? Beta equality? Ha! You actually dare to think about that? Does beta equality mean cutting off all the glands of alphas and omegas?”
With that, she lifted her foot and kicked viciously at the beta on the outside.
Crack.
It was the sound of a bone breaking.
The betas started to cry—they had been crying from the moment the chase began, but had stopped in the middle from the sheer exhaustion of running. Now, they started again.
They begged for mercy, praying to the gods.
At the same time, hatred began to fester in their hearts.
Can we really coexist with the other secondary genders? Recalling the hellish experiences of the past few days, they found it impossible to give any kind of affirmative answer.
After all, a second kick was about to land.
But that kick never landed.
Because a fourth alpha had arrived.
This alpha was a familiar face; many people had seen her on the Starnet.
Yun Chuji, an S-rank alpha, a strange alpha.
Yun Chuji’s grappling skills had improved a great deal recently. If Gu Yun saw her now, she would have undoubtedly praised her.
The three young alphas were tied up with a rope Yun Chuji carried with her. They had used their alpha advantage to bully others, and in the end, they were overpowered in the same way.
One of the alphas recognized her, spat hatefully, and said, “Traitor!”
Yun Chuji calmly tied the final knot and replied, “Whether or not I have betrayed alphas is a matter of public opinion, but you have certainly betrayed the Empire’s consensus on harmonious ABO coexistence.”
With that, Yun Chuji turned and began to give the injured beta some simple first aid.
The two betas were silent. Surrounded by alphas, they accepted even this act of kindness with trepidation.
After Yun Chuji finished, the uninjured beta helped the other one up. With downcast eyes, she said, “We’ll go to the hospital ourselves now. Thank you for today.”
Yun Chuji paused for a moment, not arguing. She simply handed them a small black sphere and said gently, “This spray can keep alphas from getting close to you. It only has about ten uses, but it’s not expensive. It’s a new product from Tang Group. The Empire hasn’t approved it for advertisement, but you should find it useful.”
A few seconds later, the injured beta took the sphere.
She pressed her lips together and finally said, “We’ll try to go out as little as possible.”
Yun Chuji had seen this kind of scene—where the victims take all the responsibility—many times before. And just like every other time, she was powerless to take any effective action against it.
She could only say, “I’m so sorry.”
The two betas didn’t reply.
The bound alpha sneered, “See? What’s the use of helping them? They’re just ungrateful wretches. They’ll turn around and stab you in the back one day. Isn’t the lesson from Qinglan Star enough for you?”
Yun Chuji didn’t answer right away, because she was calling the police.
After reporting the situation to the police, Yun Chuji turned to correct them seriously, “This is not Qinglan Star.”

