Fishing Alone Through a Thousand Rivers of Snow - Chapter 4

My body deteriorated by the day.

My pheromone gland had swollen to many times the size of an ordinary person’s, and my pheromones became increasingly difficult to control.

The suppressants I needed each day went from two injections to four, then seven… Eventually, I stopped bothering to count.

Such heavy doses only accelerated my decline.

I tossed another empty syringe onto the floor. Slumped against the sofa, even my breath felt scorching hot. The agitation in my gland had brought on a high fever.

I hated this body.

I could have lived a far smoother life. There were still so many things I wanted to do, so much research left unfinished.

But by some cruel stroke of fate, I had been saddled with the constitution of a top-tier Omega. I had worked dozens of times harder than everyone else just to keep myself from sliding into the abyss.

As my health worsened, the family grew frantic. They desperately wanted me to leave behind an heir.

The Qian Group needed an outstanding successor—someone in no way inferior to me. They knew perfectly well that none of them could shoulder that responsibility. They did not want the Group to collapse the moment I died.

Their calculations were transparent, and laughably stupid.

I had not fought my way to the position of Family Head so I could become a breeding tool.

I had clawed my way to the very top precisely to escape that fate.

If all I wanted was not to die, I would never have needed to work this hard. I could have mated with any number of top-tier Alphas long ago. One mark, and I would live.

But if a person’s only pursuit is “not dying,” it becomes very difficult for her to truly live.

I wanted to live.

Not merely… remain alive.

The fools in my family would never understand.

Fighting through my fever, I opened my computer and saw a news report.

Selection trials for a new model of mecha had begun. Nearly three hundred thousand students of mecha piloting had participated so far, but only a scant handful had passed.

I scrolled down and, unsurprisingly, found Bai Yujing’s name on the published shortlist.

The new mecha had been developed by Qian Group, and all its core data and patents were in my hands.

What distinguished it from ordinary mecha was its exceptionally high requirement for the pilot’s mental power. Physical screening was only the first round. The true test would be administered by the mecha itself.

I summoned the steward, who entered my study without a sound.

“What are your orders, Family Head?”

“I’m going to Imperial Capital University.”

“Yes. I’ll make the arrangements at once.”

Although the new model had undergone repeated testing, none of its test pilots had been a top-tier Alpha. I lacked data in that area, so I wanted to see the trials for myself.

My arrival sent the university administrators into a panic. They clustered around me and personally escorted me to the testing grounds.

I spotted Bai Yujing in the lineup at once.

White hair, red eyes, breathtaking features, a tall and slender figure, and an aloof air—she stood out even among the handful of top-tier Alphas.

My entrance drew everyone’s attention, including hers. Her red eyes widened slightly when she saw me. Then she turned away and refused to meet my gaze again.

I was led into a private viewing room, where an enormous floor-to-ceiling window provided an unobstructed view of the testing field.

Bai Yujing stood ramrod straight in a special uniform. She seemed to sense the pair of eyes fixed on her, but deliberately refused to look.

I smiled.

Surely not. She could sense me from this far away?

How… intriguing.

At last, the mecha was ready, and the candidates began taking turns in the cockpit.

I watched quietly.

The first candidate climbed in, but after a long while, the mecha had not moved at all.

The internal feed showed that his mental power fell far short of what was needed to activate the new model. Sweat poured down his face as he tried, but no matter how much power he fed into the controls, the gauge refused to fill.

Calling on one’s mental power consumed an enormous amount of physical energy. The human brain was the body’s single most energy-hungry organ.

Five minutes later, he was spent, sagging limp in the seat. The mental-power gauge slowly fell.

Because he had failed to meet the threshold, everything he had already poured in was wasted.

It was a little touch I had added to the design. Unlike other mecha, which returned part of the pilot’s mental power or stored it for later, this model discharged every bit of power below the threshold. It returned nothing and stored nothing.

In an age when mental power was so precious and scarce, the design was cruel beyond measure.

One administrator looked at me cautiously. “Professor Qian, why did you design the mecha this way? Isn’t such use of mental power rather extravagant and wasteful?”

I laughed softly.

“It’s a personal preference. I believe only the very finest pilots deserve to activate this mecha. Anyone willing to gamble must accept the consequences.”

The first pilot was carried out, sprawled limply on a stretcher, his hair drenched with sweat.