“You show this kind of mercy to everyone else too?”
“……”
Chi Zhan didn’t intend to explain the chaotic mess from earlier to anyone—least of all the Crown Prince. It was a minor matter, not worth bringing up.
But clearly, the Crown Prince had misunderstood something. The longer Chi Zhan stayed silent, the colder his tone grew.
“So it seems you don’t care about your score—or the secretary position.”
That wasn’t true.
Chi Zhan wanted to explain, but didn’t know where to start.
More importantly, he truly hadn’t collected a single ID badge.
The air thickened with tension.
The Crown Prince stared at his silence, barely restraining the urge to pin him down and teach him a proper lesson.
He’d come up with this entire plan so Chi Zhan could join the secretary division openly and fairly—knowing full well his usual top scores. This way, no one would suspect any favoritism or ulterior motive.
But who would’ve thought the little leopard who usually had such bite… would suddenly go soft?
Was he the only one who cared? Had he misjudged Chi Zhan’s desire to become his secretary?
The Crown Prince was genuinely annoyed, though he couldn’t say it aloud—
What was he supposed to do, beg a little Beta to take the test seriously, to not let someone else snatch first place?
Then, at last, Chi Zhan mumbled softly:
“There was a bit of an accident today. Tomorrow… I’ll take first place.”
Now that sounded more like him.
Satisfied, the Crown Prince showed no change in expression. But when Chi Zhan stayed lying still and motionless, he couldn’t help but chide him with a hint of exasperation.
“What, you’re just going to lie there and let someone else take your badge?”
Chi Zhan looked up at him, serious as ever.
“No one else can. Only Your Highness.”
The Crown Prince—who had withstood countless temptations from Omegas without ever wavering—actually felt his heart skip from those simple words. He coughed lightly, feigning nonchalance as he averted his gaze from Chi Zhan.
Where on earth had he hidden his badge?
Chi Zhan’s combat uniform was tailored close to the body, the jacket cinched at the waist with a wide belt fastened to the last notch, highlighting his slender frame. The cut was clean and crisp, the fabric structured, making his skin appear even paler beneath the light.
His gaze remained calm, like a moonlit lake rippling in silence. He wasn’t putting on any expression to cozy up to the Crown Prince, nor trying to gain favor. And yet, the prince simply couldn’t look away.
It was like a spell.
What kind of person would end up with this little Beta in the future? Would Chi Zhan speak to them in this same gentle tone?
Just the thought made something venomous sink its fangs into his chest, sharp and burning with pain.
No. He wouldn’t allow it.
Once Chi Zhan became his secretary, he’d belong to him for life. How could he even think of being with someone else?
In the previous crown prince’s term, the secretary position had practically turned into a grand beauty pageant—selecting only the most attractive Omegas, many of whom became his lovers. Those not chosen were matched through the Central System and eventually paired off with other Alphas after leaving the post.
But under this Crown Prince, that rule had changed from day one.
He chose his own secretary. He didn’t need a dozen options—just one person willing to fight and bleed at his side was enough.
If someone accepted that role, they needed to be prepared to be bound to him for life.
Marriage? Children? Forget it.
His secretary wasn’t entitled to marital leave.
The Crown Prince reached into Chi Zhan’s pocket and pulled out the ID badge. The small metallic tag bore the finely etched characters “Chi Zhan.” He traced a finger slowly across the engraving, and for the first time, understood the subtle beauty of tactile imprinting.
By carefully memorizing every carved line with his fingers, it was like committing Chi Zhan’s name to his soul.
“In private, there’s no need to call me ‘Your Highness,’” the Crown Prince said as he slipped the badge into his chest pocket. After a beat, he added, “Call me by my name.”
Chi Zhan responded instantly, “Your Highness, that breaks protocol. I can’t call you by your given name…”
Royal names were strictly taboo. Unless one was in the innermost circle, they never even knew the royal family’s real names. Everyone simply used the honorific, to show respect.
“I am the protocol,” the Crown Prince said without missing a beat. “Are you disobeying me?”
Chi Zhan opened his mouth. “But—”
“Remember it,” the Crown Prince said, his tone slow and deliberate, as if etching it into Chi Zhan’s very soul. “My name is—Zhou Yanxing.”
Zhou. Yan. Xing.
Chi Zhan repeated it in his mind a few times, soundless.
Strangely… the name felt oddly familiar.
Like he’d heard it somewhere before.
But the Crown Prince’s real name had always been top secret. Where could he have possibly come across it?
“You remember it now?” Zhou Yanxing raised an eyebrow.
“I got it, Zhou Zong—” Chi Zhan cut himself off mid-sentence, frowning slightly.
His tongue seemed to trip over itself. Fortunately, he caught it in time and corrected, “Zhou Yanxing.”
That… sounded even weirder.
Why on earth had “Zhou Zong” come out of his mouth just now?
Chi Zhan puzzled over it, unable to figure out the reason. In the end, he chalked it up to a slip of the tongue.
Still, something in his subconscious nagged that it wasn’t so simple.
Zhou Yanxing nodded, satisfied. He was just about to let Chi Zhan go when he suddenly noticed something he hadn’t earlier:
Why did Chi Zhan’s body carry the scent of so many unfamiliar pheromones?
It wasn’t unusual exactly—after all, the island was crawling with Alphas. During combat, physical contact was inevitable. But that didn’t make it any less irritating.
Chi Zhan, seeing that the Crown Prince no longer held him down and seemed about to let him go, pushed himself up off the ground and was just about to take his leave—
When Zhou Yanxing suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him back toward him.
