Chapter 112

Chapter 112

On this day, the entire empire will never forget the sight they witnessed:

Golden buds nestled among lush green foliage, the colors so vivid they seemed like they were copied from an oil painting. The quiet, glittering starlight flowed gently around the buds, occasionally mingled with green phosphorescence, enhancing the sacred beauty of the massive canary tree.

The gloomy clouds had parted, revealing numerous gaps through which bright sunlight poured, making the custard bun-like blossoms amidst the lush branches appear even more magnificent, filling the eyes with warm, comforting light and evoking boundless warmth and softness in the heart.

The sea breeze gently brushed past, stirring the rich green leaves and delicate buds, creating a scene reminiscent of the sea's shimmering surface, with dazzling waves breaking and scattering in the light.

The gentle breeze tenderly kissed each custard bud, while the rose offered its warm, sweet fragrance—like sun-baked crystal sugar, warm with a soul-stirring sweetness.

The common scent of roses or peonies is bold and intense, unabashedly displaying their passionate fragrance, almost aggressively aromatic.

In contrast, the scent of the canary is entirely different; it's subtle, understated, light and tender, wafting a sweet aroma in the breeze.

As this floral fragrance carried on the sea breeze, sweeping across every corner of the simulated battlefield, the Alphas and Omegas, tormented by pheromones and their estrous cycle, found both their restless hearts and rampant desires suddenly soothed in that moment.

The searing heat at the nape of their necks, as if cooled by ice, finally ceased to burn intolerably; the unsatisfied pheromones were gently soothed by the scent of the canary, slowing their release.

Hundreds of thousands of different pheromones, each with its unique scent, mingled together, creating a chaotic storm. The sweet scent of the rose gently permeated this tangled web, giving direction to the aimlessly swirling pheromones, which then reluctantly followed the canary's fragrance out of the muddle.

Alphas and Omegas caught in the throes of their unbearable estrus were like travelers lost in the desert, scorched by the sun, seemingly moments away from perishing in the endless sands.

The appearance of that miraculous plant and its miraculous fragrance symbolized their last moment of salvation, as if they had finally stumbled upon a cold, refreshing spring just before succumbing to the harsh desert.

The cool spring water washed away every inch of their internal heat, gradually restoring the sanity of the Alphas and Omegas tormented in the feverish ordeal.

After enduring such hellish torture, their energy was completely drained, yet even too exhausted to move a finger, their gaze remained fixed on the enormous plant shading the sky, their eyes filled only with those custard-colored buds.

At this moment, whether it was the tens of thousands of contestants in the simulated battlefield or the billions of viewers in the live broadcast, all were left with one overwhelming thought:

A miracle.

A once-in-a-lifetime, godly miracle, unprecedented and likely never to be repeated—

No, this golden-flowered plant before them was a deity in itself.

Its pure, crystalline gold color, its delicate and beautiful flowers, its vigorous vitality, represented not only unending hope but also outshone the sun in its brilliance.

Whether the god of light, life, or hope, if they existed not just in myths passed down orally, not just in prayers and faith, but in reality, then surely they would resemble this canary.

Holy, pure, beautiful, unadulterated...

Even the most exquisite adjectives in the world cannot fully capture the shock, wonder, emotion, and joy felt by the people of the empire upon witnessing this canary.

They were reluctant to snap back to reality, their hearts and eyes filled only with the golden plant. Some even wished they could shatter the obstructive screen to be intimately close to those lush leaves and adorable custard-colored buds.

Contestants in the simulated battlefield were equally astonished, their minds just reclaimed from the grip of estrus, now hopelessly enchanted by the plant before them.

Countless Alphas gazed dreamily at the creamy gold blossoms, murmuring softly, "So beautiful..."

After a long hiatus, Dongkui once again felt that warm power. Despite being utterly drained, he reached out to the nearest branch like the most devout believer, yearning for his deity's favor.

The source of all his strength, the nourishment of his soul, the object of his longing...

His deity.

His life.

The branches, glowing with brilliant golden light, carefully protected the quivering, delicate custard-colored buds, spreading in all directions, some even burrowing underground, piercing through hard rocks to reach the dark heart of the earth.

Ahead lay a misty, bottomless pool, rich in tangible spiritual energy. The little canary, slightly fearful, extended a branch to gently probe, causing ripples of silver light on the water. Only after ensuring safety did it happily rush towards the pool, singing joyously.

But just as the canary was about to immerse its branches and buds in the pool to absorb the sweet energy, a pair of pale, veiny hands emerged from the mist, gripping the unsuspecting branch tightly in their palm.

Unlike other roses and peonies, the canary lacked protective thorns. Its branches were smooth and cool, seemingly fragile enough to break with a slight bend.

The creamy gold flowers were even more delicate, smaller than half a girl's palm, tightly enclosing their tender petals, revealing only a small gap. Their cuteness offered no protection, only inviting a desire to peel them open and reveal the color of the stamens inside.

It seemed anyone could easily pluck these defenseless branches, holding them in their hands to admire.

Feeling the danger from the other, the custard-colored buds protected by the branches trembled nervously, only to be met with cold fingertips caressing their delicate petals, even attempting to probe deeper.

Then, a hot breath was sprayed onto the delicate buds, causing them to shiver slightly. In the vast and dim underground mine, a low, almost imperceptible sigh echoed.

"Finally..."

"I've met you."

Released, the little canary hurriedly retracted all its branches and buds, retreating fearfully, no longer daring to greedily consume the rich, pure spiritual energy.

The next moment, the silver-hued mist swirling around suddenly dispersed, revealing a gigantic butterfly, two meters in length, emerging from a shattered silver egg.

Its body, composed of the hardest material in this world, shimmered with a metallic, icy silver light. Yet, as its wings fluttered, they seemed to flow like stream water, embodying both steel-like strength and supple fluidity, sharp and chilling.

The little canary, carefully cradling its custard-colored buds, was counting to ensure none were missing. Distracted by the silver light above and lifting its gaze, it was struck with awe—

It had never seen such a butterfly.

Unlike the fragile butterflies of inherited memory and direct experience, this silver-bodied, metallic monarch butterfly exuded a deep, internal awe, surpassing mere beauty.

It was dangerous, yet sharply incisive.

Resembling both the eerie silver moon hidden behind skyscrapers and a dagger emitting a chilling aura.

The monarch butterfly, its wings fluttering, left a trail of icy frost and snow wherever it passed.

It burst from the dark, chilling depths of the earth, flying unhesitatingly towards the bright and resplendent canary.

As if destined by fate, the butterfly flew over mountains, oceans, time, and life, to ultimately rest on the rose-like silk petals.

Duan Chenlin, watching this scene on the real-time holographic projection, saw his brother who had finally emerged from his cocoon, fluttering silver wings, approaching the canary, tenderly and lovingly kissing one of the small custard-colored buds.

A "pop" sound marked the blossoming of a flower.

Contestants in the simulated battlefield and viewers in the live broadcast room watched this scene in stunned silence. Before the gaze of billions across the empire, the butterfly finally found its rose and bestowed upon it a fervent kiss.

The image of the butterfly kissing the flower seemed frozen in time, until finally, the towering canary dissipated from the top, spreading into brilliant streams of light, flowing in all directions like the most radiant Milky Way in a summer night sky.

The monarch butterfly too gradually faded away, transforming into a cold silver glow, like gently poured moonlight.

The golden light intertwined with the silver, reminiscent of the sun and moon casting reflections upon each other.

The flickering lights converged into a beautiful golden-haired boy. He seemed exhausted, peacefully sleeping with closed eyes, like a falling meteor tracing a long golden arc across the sky.

The howling wind tousled his hair, his thick, curled eyelashes trembling slightly, as if he would shatter in the next moment.

No one could witness this scene without their hearts involuntarily clenching; all eyes were captivated by the fragile beauty of the boy, oblivious to everything else.

Both contestants and viewers cried out in their hearts: Someone, anyone, please save him!

Falcons and flamingos spread their robust wings and soared towards the sky, but in the next instant, the beautiful boy fell into the arms of a strong, fiery embrace.

Almost no one in the empire failed to recognize the man who appeared suddenly, intently gazing at the boy he held tightly. Even though the usual hard and cold expression in his eyes melted away, showing a completely different side, they immediately knew his name—

The Imperial General, Duan Chensen.

Known for the highest genetic level, an SSS-ranked battle monarch butterfly Alpha.

Countless anxious hearts settled back into chests as the man appeared, exhaling in relief.

Yet, after the relief of the boy's safety, Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of loss.

They sullenly realized that the rose belonged solely to the butterfly.

However, it was only in this moment that people belatedly came to a realization, gradually acknowledging a fact:

Queqiu, he was not an Omega of the plant variety.

Because, he was the plant itself.

Billions witnessed this scene, discovering that a mere glance at his petals could alleviate mental fatigue;

And his fragrance—or perhaps pheromones—effortlessly soothed the pheromonal chaos caused by tens of thousands of Alphas and Omegas.

This might be something even gods couldn't achieve.

But Queqiu did.

He wasn't just a divine miracle; his existence transcended deities.

The entire history of the empire would now be rewritten, divided into before and after Queqiu's arrival.

The golden-haired boy arrived in their world with hope and mercy.

From then on, roses bloomed in the wilderness, and dawn dispersed the night.

Even the bottomless depths of hell finally saw redemption.

*

Queqiu felt like he was in a dream.

He dreamt of returning to his true form, stretching his lush green leaves, basking in the spirit-rich sunlight, and joyously feasting.

Then growing and growing, his branches suddenly adorned with creamy golden buds, swaying gently in the breeze, their sweet scent attracting a large silver butterfly.

He waved his branches, trying to shoo it away, but the persistent butterfly clung on, circling around his custard-colored buds.

It insisted on pollinating him.

"Can't I not be pollinated?"

"No, without pollination, there can be no fruit."

"But how is pollination done?"

The little canary was blossoming for the first time, naive and tricked into unfolding its tightly wrapped cream-yellow bud. Barely showing its tip, it was probed by the butterfly's nectaring feet, gently searching for the sweet pistil.

—Wait, wait a moment.

The canary seemed unable to bear the butterfly's weight. Its branches and flowers trembled slightly, and several drops of dew, like pearls, fell from the cream-gold petals, soaking the smooth stems.

Some dewdrops rolled into the bud, circling the delicate pistil, mixing with the pollen to create sweet, honey-like dew.

The butterfly's antennae probe in, instantly bewitched by the sweet nectar, involuntarily craving more.

But the little canary's bud is tightly closed, barely allowing the antennae's tip to enter, nothing more...

Moreover, the butterfly's tail holds a firm, swollen pod, heavy and full.

With this, it's even more impossible to go further.

(Enough with the scrutiny, haven't you ever seen a butterfly pollinating? If not, look it up. Which part of this narrative is explicit that it warrants such repetitive censorship?)

Sensing the little rose's resistance, the butterfly slowly retracts its antennae, tenderly kissing the thin, silky, cream-gold petals.

In a daze, the little canary inquires about the butterfly's tail.

—A pollen sac.

Pollen sac... What is that?

It's the storage pouch for pollinating the pistil.

But...

The little canary feels dizzy from the kisses. It can't help but think: the butterfly's pollen sac seems too large, seemingly accounting for 13% of the male butterfly's weight.

If converted to human weight, wouldn't the sac hold as much as a 19-liter water barrel?

Its bud is so small, the pistil so tiny, surely it can't fit all that...

The little canary instinctively wants to close its bud, but it seems already too late.

The butterfly's strength is immense; when it alights on a petal, it's enough to pry open the tightly wrapped bud, then it crashes into the plump pollen sac, using its fine downy hairs to probe the deep stamens for more effective pollination.

A gentle breeze caresses this beautiful canary plant, where a silver butterfly perches, its wings fluttering up and down, causing the flower buds on the branch to tremble lightly and release sweet dew.

Then, it was all consumed by the butterfly.

The branches sway slightly with the wind, and in the hazy shadows, one can faintly discern the butterfly pollinating, the flowers and leaves entwining.

The duration of this pollination is unknown, the greedy butterfly siphoning all the nectar from the little canary, and in return, leaves a generous gift.

The plump seed pods deflate and then swell, as thick snow like goose feathers falls, piling up on the creamy yellow buds, even covering the pistils with heavy white snow.

Finally, it plugs up the orifice to prevent other male butterflies from coveting the rose it has marked—ensuring paternity is an instinct etched in every male butterfly's genes, an innate understanding of possession.

……

Autumn Sparrow struggles to open his eyes, feeling heavily burdened, as if crushed; the gland at the back of his neck also stings a bit, as if repeatedly bitten by a wolf or a similar animal with sharp canine teeth.

The gland, apart from his own pheromones, seems to be filled with those of another Alpha, a small, heavy piece weighing down, causing a sour and uncomfortable swelling—

Autumn Sparrow raises his hand, subconsciously touching the slightly warm and soft flesh on the back of his neck.

It's not just the gland that's filled to the brim.

He slowly sits up, feeling uncomfortable everywhere, as if he's just gained the right to use this body for the first time.

Aside from these few discomforts, his body was surprisingly clean and refreshed, apparently having been thoroughly cleaned.

Autumn Sparrow let go of his hand and, inadvertently glancing at his wrist, froze for a moment at the sight of several purplish-red bruises.

Lifting the thin blanket, a sweet rose scent mixed with the pungent smell of rust assaulted his senses, accompanied by a fragrance reminiscent of chestnut blossoms.

The rose fragrance was his own, while the rust scent belonged to someone else.

As for the chestnut blossom aroma... it was probably a blend of both their scents.

Without needing further confirmation, Autumn Sparrow immediately understood what had transpired with him.

He sneered coldly, as if to make a final confirmation, and lifting his pajama pants, he glanced at his ankle.

Encircling the pale skin was a handprint, vividly suggesting the tight grip of strong hands once imprisoning the slender ankle, with dense kiss marks sprawling upwards and downwards, even reaching the ankle.

A creaking sound came from the bathroom door.

Autumn Sparrow paused, the silk pajama pants slipping from his grasp, sliding down his smooth and fair legs, concealing the revealing scene beneath.

The next second, a tall man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, about twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old, entered, exuding a sharp, intense presence like a brightly honed knife.

He wore black, long military boots, with his powerful legs sheathed in fitted military trousers, revealing clearly defined muscles that seemed ready to burst through the fabric.

Above, he wore a loose white shirt, casually buttoned up to the chest, exposing skin dotted with undried water droplets, soaking the shirt half-translucent, vaguely revealing fresh red scratches on his shoulders.

His silver hair was half-dry and damp, heavy with moisture, with water still dripping from the tips.

Meeting those light silver eyes, Autumn Sparrow beckoned him with a flick of his hand as his gaze shifted.

The man casually tossed the towel he used to dry his hair onto the intricately patterned carpet and strode towards the young man, obediently bending down before him.

Immediately, a sharp pain erupted from his shoulder.

“Hiss—”

Autumn Sparrow bit fiercely into Duan Chensen's left shoulder, leaving a circle of purple and bruised bite marks on his pale skin.

He pulled the man closer, their faces nearly touching, their breaths intertwining tightly, even their heartbeats audibly clear to each other.

At such close proximity, Autumn Sparrow and Duan Chensen locked eyes for a long time. He heard the man's breathing grow heavier, and after a moment, the other broke the stalemate, tilting his head to initiate a kiss.

Autumn Sparrow didn't evade, allowing the other to conquer his lips and teeth.

The kiss lasted several minutes, leaving them both somewhat breathless. Duan Chensen finally let go of Autumn Sparrow reluctantly.

The man panted heavily, his chest heaving. Whether from breathlessness or overwhelming emotion, his silver eyes remained intently fixed on the increasingly beautiful young man tinged with the hues of passion.

After the kiss, Autumn Sparrow took a while to calm down, gradually settling his intense emotions.

He distanced himself slightly, understanding everything yet still harboring some concerns and fixations in his heart.

“Who are you really, Morfa or Duan Chensen?”

Faced with this question, the man chuckled softly, immediately moving closer, refusing to let the other drift away.

With one hand braced on the mattress and the other encircling Autumn Sparrow in his arms, he kept him close.

"It's all me."

"Or do you prefer the younger, puppy-like version of me you used to know?"

As Duan Chensen spoke, his expression suddenly changed, his aggressiveness lessening, positioning himself lower and looking at Autumn Sparrow with the familiar, pitiful expression he knew.

"I've finally found you, Mom."

His head buried deeply in the young man's embrace, he nuzzled like a puppy.

"I missed you so much."

Autumn Sparrow placed his hand against his forehead, somewhat surprised by this scene, but then thinking it somehow expected.

He let that pass and turned to confront Duan Chensen, pulling open his pajama collar to fully expose the marks around his collarbone.

"Did you do this?"

With conclusive evidence and the tool of the deed at hand, Duan Chensen couldn't deny it.

He raised his head, leaning close to Autumn Sparrow's ear, whispering, "This is a punishment—Mom hasn't forgotten, right?"

While speaking, he licked, involving the cool dagger-shaped earring as well.

The man's deep voice resonated in his ear, causing Autumn Sparrow's ears to tingle.

Speaking with something in his mouth, he mumbled unclearly, "But I've also prepared a gift for you."

Autumn Sparrow sneered, "Such a well-behaved, polite, and thoughtful child for Mom."

"Of course," Duan Chensen shamelessly agreed.

He caresses the dagger earring on Yue Qiu's earlobe, speaking in an enigmatic tone, "I've given you the moon and the empire."

"My..."

Beloved.

Author's note:

It should still be understandable.

Don't say I don't take care of this kid in the short shirt (hands on hips).

Short Shirt (after smoking): I was locked up for over thirty chapters; this is what I deserve (exhales smoke) (unbuckles belt). My wife is amazing (continues with some censored actions).

(About the male butterfly's spermatophore and mating plug, you can look it up on Baidu, it's quite fascinating.)