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The Alpha Married the Tallest Omega novel · Chapter 1 of 24

Chapter 1: Nine Days

At the Mid-Autumn dinner the Great-Uncle jokes that the Ji and Qi houses should honor their grandfathers' marriage pledge, and Wenzhou, the shortest Alpha in Mingzhou, stands up and says he will marry the tallest Omega; Rongan stands too and says nine days.

The Great-Uncle lifted his wine cup and said the Ji and Qi houses should finally keep their grandfathers' promise.

Seventy years ago, over one cup at Berth Nine, the old Ji and the old Qi had sworn that their grandsons would marry.

Nobody had ever meant it.

Forty people at the Mid-Autumn table began to laugh before he finished, and Qi Rongan knew exactly why.

The last Ji grandson was Wenzhou, the shortest Alpha in Mingzhou.

The last Qi grandson was Rongan, who stood one hundred ninety-three centimeters tall and was an Omega.

He sat at the foot of the long table with his hands flat on the cloth, so that nobody would see them shake.

His younger brother, beside him, had gone rigid. "We're leaving," he whispered.

"Not yet," said Rongan.

Across from him Lu Jinghan, once his junior officer, leaned back, grinning, and the silver Harbor Cross on his lapel caught the lantern light.

The pin had been awarded for Long Pier. Rongan had been at Long Pier.

"Put them side by side at the harbor gate," Lu said. "The customs men would sell tickets."

The aunts laughed harder. Zhao Dechang, who leased two berths from the Ji house, seated at the Great-Uncle's right hand, smiled into his tea and said nothing.

Rongan had been the joke for ten years.

He had been the ox in the barracks and the wardrobe in the mess line.

He had been the Omega too big to be carried over any threshold.

He knew how to sit still for it. He sat still now.

At the head of the table Ji Wenzhou set down his cup.

He was a small neat man in a black three-piece suit, with thin steel glasses and his hair combed flat.

He had been drinking tea and watching the room all evening, and he had not laughed once.

"Can the groom even reach, Wenzhou?" Lu called down the table.

Wenzhou stood.

He did not hurry. He pushed in his chair and waited until the laughter ran out of air.

"The Great-Uncle is right," he said.

His voice was level and dry, and it carried to every corner of the room.

"A promise made over wine at Berth Nine is a promise. The Ji house keeps its promises. I will marry Captain Qi."

Nobody laughed.

"Wenzhou," the Great-Uncle said, almost kindly, "it was a joke."

"Then I'll finish the joke," said Wenzhou.

"You'd have to stand on a chair," Lu said.

"I reach what I like, Lu."

Wenzhou did not look at him.

"Ask me again after the ninth night, when I've had him against a wall."

A cup rattled on a saucer somewhere.

Madam Ji, Wenzhou's mother, in her silver hairpin at the Great-Uncle's left, said quietly, "The ninth is the next good day on the calendar."

His brother's hand closed on Rongan's sleeve. "Brother, say it was a joke. They'll let you out of it."

"They'll let me out of it," Rongan agreed.

Then everybody would laugh at the Omega who hadn't dared.

He had walked into a burning bonded warehouse four times with a rope on his belt.

He could say yes to a small man in steel glasses.

Rongan stood up.

It took a while. Chairs creaked. Heads tipped back, one after another, all the way up to his face.

At the head of the table Wenzhou's eyes came up with them, and did not waver.

"Then nine days," said Rongan.

His voice came out low and steady, which surprised him.

Wenzhou walked the whole length of the table. He passed Lu, who had stopped smiling, and Zhao, who had not.

He stopped in front of Rongan and held up his hand.

Rongan took it.

Wenzhou's palm was dry and warm. His thumb settled on the inside of Rongan's wrist, right on the pulse, and stayed there.

He did not shake. He held on, and he looked up without hurry, and his face showed no shame about the distance at all.

"Captain," said Wenzhou, for Rongan alone. "Eleven o'clock. My study, second courtyard."

"Why?"

"Because if you want to say no, I'd like you to say it to my face." The thumb pressed once. "Not to the table."

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