Though dressed as servers, every staff member here was armed. These were not ordinary waiters but battle-hardened veterans with years of combat experience. Breaking in without clearance? Impossible.
The entrance procedures were notoriously meticulous. Not only did guests have to undergo a full body search and relinquish all weapons, but they also had to be blindfolded and personally escorted inside.
But the moment the attendant saw the jet-black pass edged in gold, he immediately bowed and handed over a badge, speaking in a low voice
“This way, please.”
Zhou Yanxing clipped the badge—marked with the image of a black demon skull—onto his chest with a casual flick of his wrist.
“Zhou, you’re five minutes late,” a blond man lounging at the bar said lazily, swirling a cocktail. “You’re always punctual. What happened?”
“None of your business.” Zhou Yanxing’s expression remained unreadable. “Any updates?”
“Your dear little brother? His intel network is clearly alive and well. I’d be shocked if he didn’t have eyes planted inside the Imperial Military Academy.” Laiyi smirked and said slowly, “He’s already started courting the cadet you’ve been eyeing. The terms he’s offering… tsk tsk, even I’m tempted.”
“I see.” Zhou Yanxing sipped from a glass of high-proof liquor. “Not surprising.”
“You two share a bit of that rabid-dog energy—though you’re better at hiding it.” Laiyi swirled his wine glass, then added casually, “So, you’re not even a little worried he might steal your favored secretary away? Or wait—” He paused, a knowing glint in his eyes. “That Moy guy… was that bait? A decoy you dangled to let your little brother take a glorious nosedive?”
“Isn’t he fond of snatching what others want?” Zhou Yanxing said coldly. “I’m just helping him do what he loves.”
“I’m curious,” Laiyi mused, “have you really found someone you’re interested in? The Imperial Military Academy is the top-tier breeding ground for elite talent. Surely someone caught your eye.”
Zhou Yanxing lifted his eyelids and gave Laiyi a frosty glance. The air pressure around them dropped noticeably. Laiyi immediately raised both hands in mock surrender.
“Just asking, no offense meant. But your brother’s no slouch either. Sure, he nabbed Moy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he dug up more info—gotta cover his bases, after all. Let me guess… also from the Intelligence Division?”
Zhou Yanxing didn’t respond, but that silence was its own confirmation.
“Then you’d better keep an eye out. If the person is an Omega, there’s no guarantee your brother won’t—”
“That’s not a possibility.” Zhou Yanxing cut him off. “He’s a very strong…” He paused. “Kid.”
Still green in technique, perhaps—but with proper training, he wouldn’t be any weaker than the rest.
Coming from the Crown Prince, such praise was rare. If he said that, the kid must be extraordinary.
“A Beta then?” Laiyi remarked meaningfully. “Betas are great—none of that Omega fragility. Should hold up just fine under stress.”
What he actually meant was: a Beta could probably survive Zhou Yanxing’s brutal training regimen. Those who’d served under the prince knew—he was a demon drill instructor, relentless in pursuit of perfection. Even Alphas had broken down in tears. An Omega wouldn’t last three days.
But Betas… Betas tended to have stronger willpower. Mediocre, maybe, but tenacious. Not as hot-headed or unstable as Alphas, and unaffected by pheromones. In a way, Betas were the most resilient of the three. That’s why the Intelligence Division preferred recruiting them.
Zhou Yanxing made no comment. He downed the rest of his drink, gaze sharp and composed.
“Is there anything else to report?”
“One more thing.” Laiyi’s tone grew more serious. “You might have… another little brother. No concrete proof yet, but he’s likely enrolled at the Imperial Military Academy. Odds are, he already knows he’s the Emperor’s child. As for why he hasn’t confronted you directly—probably because he thinks the Crown Prince is petty and won’t tolerate a legitimate rival to the throne.”
Laiyi’s tone lightened again, amusement flickering in his eyes as he tapped away on his lightbrain.
“I sent you the data. I was careful—he shouldn’t have noticed my digging. But anyone with royal blood… they’re never easy to deal with.”
Zhou Yanxing skimmed the file. His eyes paused—barely noticeably—on a single line. His brows lifted slightly.
…Chi Zhan’s roommate?
He had just arrived at the Academy today, happened to run into the combat assessment, and had taken an interest in Chi Zhan. The other guy, meanwhile, had moved in at the start of term. Clearly, this wasn’t some elaborate plot aimed at him.
Yet a subtle sense of displeasure stirred in the prince’s chest.
It was like seeing a bone he had his eyes on already… only to realize some stray mutt had caught its scent first.
Alpha possessiveness ran deep. Their territorial instincts weren’t limited to private quarters—whoever they set their sights on was equally off-limits to others. It was practically primal.
Still, Zhou Yanxing forcibly suppressed the impulse to immediately yank the guy away from Chi Zhan’s side.
The file marked the bastard prince as a Beta, which meant he wouldn’t be able to do anything with Chi Zhan anyway. Forcing him out would only alert him—and there was no need to attract unwanted attention.
Besides… Chi Zhan wasn’t his. He had no right to interfere in the his life.
It was maddening, but the royal upbringing etched into his bones—the discipline, etiquette, and restraint—kept him calm.
There was still a full academic year before Chi Zhan graduated. Until then, the prince couldn’t afford to disturb his life. The fewer variables, the better. The last thing he needed was prying eyes.
Still… he couldn’t quite rest easy.
“Chi-Chi, I found the spr—” Tao Ran burst through the door excitedly, only to freeze mid-sentence.
He’d walked in on Chi Zhan sitting on Cen Chi’s bed, halfway through putting on his shirt.
The words stuck in his throat.
“Spr—spray…”
