It was like cradling a priceless treasure.
“Let go.”
That was directed at Cen Chi.
There was no gloating or disdain in his expression—no mockery, no attempt to belittle Cen Chi. And yet, that calm, almost indifferent tone hit Cen Chi’s chest like a fist, squeezing until all that poured out was a bitter acid he could taste in his throat.
Even in this dazed state… Chi Zhan still chose his rival over him?
What exactly had happened between the two of them for Chi Zhan to choose this Beta so decisively?
At this point, Cen Chi had no choice but to truly regard the stranger in front of him with caution. What he didn’t yet realize was that this cold, aloof young man would soon become the most difficult rival he would ever face.
Qi Song finally gathered Chi Zhan into his arms, as if holding a fragile, snow-white feather—weightless and delicate. And because that feather was so easily broken, he moved with painstaking care, lest he startle him again.
Then he glanced over at Cen Chi.
Even though his heart had already started to twist in knots, Cen Chi still handed over a fresh blocking patch.
Blocking patches had to be used within a minute, or the isolating agent and disinfectant inside would rapidly evaporate upon contact with air.
Qi Song accepted it without a word. He didn’t ask why Chi Zhan needed an Omega-grade blocking patch—he only confirmed it wouldn’t harm him. Then he murmured, “It’ll be over soon.”
Chi Zhan wasn’t nearly as resistant to him as he had been with Cen Chi. In fact, he even took a sudden interest in Qi Song’s jacket, nuzzling his head gently into his chest.
There was no trace of pheromones on Qi Song. Only the soft, lingering scent of gardenia—a rare fragrance these days, from an old-fashioned soap that was hard to find anymore. Familiar. Nostalgic.
Qi Song ran a gentle hand through Chi Zhan’s sweat-drenched hair, then deftly tore open the patch’s packaging.
Cen Chi caught the detail. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Qi Song another once-over, this time with deeper scrutiny.
Omega-grade patches were notoriously tricky to handle, with complex, precision packaging. Anyone who hadn’t studied Omega physiology properly would fumble with it.
Most Betas only learned the bare minimum about Omegas, coasting through their coursework. After all, it had little to do with them.
But when Qi Song tried to apply the patch, he ran into the same problem Cen Chi had—
Chi Zhan wouldn’t let anyone near the back of his neck. The moment anything brushed the skin there, he’d instinctively dodge.
That spot—where the gland should’ve regressed—was flushed red. It didn’t look exactly like an Omega’s, but whether it was overstimulated or simply too sensitive, it couldn’t be touched.
Neither Cen Chi nor Qi Song got any special treatment.
But Qi Song didn’t try to force it. Cen Chi reminded him, “We don’t have many of those. If you can’t do it, let me.”
Qi Song didn’t respond. It was as if he hadn’t even heard.
With Qi Song no longer pushing forward, Chi Zhan’s wariness began to ease. But the unrest in his body—fueled by unmet biological needs—still simmered beneath the surface. He clung to Qi Song’s uniform, fumbling at it, trying to pull it open. When he couldn’t, he buried his face against him, as if trying to inhale something—anything—of a pheromone.
He was craving it.
If Chi Zhan were an Omega, the standard emergency procedure would be a temporary mark. It would alter his emotional state for a time, but at least it would stabilize him.
But right now, even Cen Chi couldn’t say for certain what Chi Zhan’s status was. A Beta transitioning into an Omega was so rare, it bordered on medical anomaly. He watched carefully, wary. A misstep during gender differentiation could lead to irreversible consequences.
So even though the pheromones had him practically burning alive, Cen Chi didn’t act.
And that was why Qi Song didn’t attack him.
Qi Song let Chi Zhan clutch at his clothes, then pulled out a small object and brought it to Chi Zhan’s lips.
Chi Zhan normally never took food from strangers. But this time, something inexplicable happened—he took a bite.
His eyes lit up.
Qi Song fed him a few tiny red berries, thoroughly washed in filtered spring water. While Chi Zhan was distracted, happily munching, Qi Song’s fingertip brushed the back of his neck—and with a swift motion, pressed the patch into place.
Chi Zhan froze. He looked up at Qi Song in disbelief, his eyes filled with an expression that practically screamed, I trusted you, and you tricked me.
Qi Song just looked back at him—and for once, smiled. Amused.
Chi Zhan never usually let his expressions show so plainly.
The patch took effect immediately. Cool, calming relief spread from the back of his neck down his spine, soothing every overheated nerve. His pheromones faded almost instantly, like a sweet little cake freshly sealed in airtight wrapping.
To an Alpha, blocking patches were practically a slap in the face to their instincts.
An Alpha’s desire for an Omega only grew stronger with age. Especially when it came to the one they liked—if they caught even a whiff of their pheromone, the very last thing on their mind would be: I should go buy a blocking patch.
Unless, of course, the Alpha was impotent.
Qi Song was no exception.
As Chi Zhan’s body gradually cooled and his eyelids began to droop with drowsiness, Qi Song leaned in and gently touched his forehead—just like checking a child’s temperature.
Normal.
Good… and not so good.
***
Chi Zhan stirred awake, his mind still foggy and sluggish. It felt like rusted gears were slowly grinding into motion, dragging his thoughts out of the haze.
Military academy… the exercise—shit, wasn’t this supposed to be part of a training exercise?
Why had he fallen asleep?
His head was resting on someone’s lap.
A hand was gently resting on his back, like lulling a child to sleep. The person didn’t seem to notice he’d woken up and was quietly chatting with someone nearby.
