“……”
Who was this person? How did things turn out like this? What on earth just happened?
A flurry of unanswered questions bubbled through Chi Zhan’s mind like colorful soap bubbles, each one bursting before it could be caught.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Chu Xingxiao hissed, voice low and tense, biting out each word. “He was fine before I left—how the hell did he suddenly fall asleep?”
He deeply regretted not chasing after his gege right away. Instead, he’d forced himself to calm down alone for a few minutes, hoping to avoid doing something he couldn’t take back in a fit of rage.
After all, that was his long-lost gege.
His gege, who had already forgotten him. Running away, in that case, was only natural.
That’s what he kept telling himself. Rationally, it made sense. But emotionally—he just couldn’t accept it.
His gege had promised him. He’d promised.
It had taken every ounce of willpower for Chu Xingxiao to pull himself together and start searching. He followed the trail of pheromones he’d deliberately left behind and finally found him—only to see bodies scattered haphazardly across the ground, and Chi Zhan… curled up on Qi Song’s lap, fast asleep.
It should’ve been a peaceful, almost touching scene.
But Chu Xingxiao nearly exploded on the spot.
He and Qi Song had started from the same place. Chi Zhan didn’t recognize either of them—he’d forgotten them both. So why was it that Chi Zhan ran from him like he was the plague, but could sleep so calmly on Qi Song?
He refused to admit he was jealous—but he’d practically drowned in the sour taste of it.
“How did you find us?” Cen Chi, observing Chu Xingxiao from the side, asked quietly.
“None of your business.” Chu Xingxiao snapped. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Ah-Zhan’s roommate,” Cen Chi replied politely.
Ah-Zhan?!
What gave him the right to call him that?! Even he had never used such an intimate nickname!
Chu Xingxiao ground his teeth again. But he had done his homework. This Cen Chi was just a Beta.
No real threat.
Cen Chi’s question, in truth, had been rhetorical. He already knew the answer.
The scent markers Chu Xingxiao had left on Chi Zhan were blatant—any Alpha could detect them. It was practically a neon sign screaming, he’s mine. But Betas couldn’t smell pheromones.
So Cen Chi pretended not to notice.
Even so, just from that one question, Cen Chi came to a clear conclusion: Chu Xingxiao hadn’t caught the scent.
If he had, he wouldn’t have asked something so obvious.
Alphas and Omegas who used Blocking Patches tended to experience fatigue for the first twenty minutes afterward. Falling asleep was completely normal.
Chu Xingxiao was seething but also secretly heartbroken. His voice stayed soft, afraid of waking Chi Zhan. He lowered his head, eyes fixed pitifully on his gege—only to notice the faint tremble of Chi Zhan’s eyelashes.
Chu Xingxiao reached out and lightly poked his cheek, surprised.
“Gege… are you pretending to sleep?”
Busted.
Chi Zhan reluctantly opened his eyes. He really didn’t want to deal with the awkward weirdness of this moment—let alone the fact that he somehow found himself surrounded by these people.
Three of them were staring at him like his face held the secret to winning this training exercise.
Chi Zhan instinctively reached into his pocket.
His nameplates were still there.
No one had taken them. A strange, disorienting feeling crept into his chest.
Of the three, he only had a casual acquaintance with Cen Chi, who seemed like a soft-hearted guy—not the type to steal from his roommate. But Tang Ling? They’d only met once. Yet he’d let him rest peacefully. And then there was Xiao Xing…
Frankly, Chi Zhan had expected him to start a fight on sight.
“Feeling any better?” Qi Song was the first to speak.
Chi Zhan sat up from his lap, nodding calmly to mask the heat rising to his face.
“Much better. But… why did I fall asleep?”
He vaguely remembered his symptoms worsening—after that, everything blurred like a drunken haze.
Qi Song studied his face, as if looking for a clue. Then he lowered his gaze and said evenly, “Do you have anemia or low blood sugar?”
Chi Zhan hesitated.
“I… guess I do. A little.”
He had felt off lately, but nothing serious had shown up when he’d visited the school clinic.
“Then that explains it. It’s not a big deal, but under extreme stress, symptoms can spike.”
“I’ve got food,” Chu Xingxiao jumped in immediately. “Come on, eat something. Why would you lean on his legs? Mine are way more comfortable.”
“……”
“I’m really sorry for wasting your time.” Chi Zhan bowed his head slightly, apologetic. “I’m fine now. You should focus on the exercise.”
“What’s the point of—” Chu Xingxiao started, then paused, suddenly thinking of something. He pivoted quickly. “Ahem. Right. The training is what matters. How many nameplates have you all collected? You’re not planning on getting eliminated, are you?”
No point standing around here. Better to shoo everyone away first—then he could deal with his brother.
Chi Zhan nodded in agreement.
“Let’s work together,” Cen Chi suggested with a smile. “Might be easier in pairs.”
“How do we know you won’t stab us in the back?” Chu Xingxiao sneered. “Don’t trust him!”
Chi Zhan looked at Chu Xingxiao’s stormy expression, then at Cen Chi, and finally bent down to pick up the Particle Sword on the ground.
“No need. I’m more used to working alone. But thank you,” he said coolly.
As he turned to leave, someone grabbed his arm.
It was Tang Ling.
Chi Zhan half-expected him to declare, I’m definitely taking first place this time.
Instead, Tang Ling simply handed him a small bag—heavy in his palm.
Chi Zhan blinked in surprise. “This is…?”
“Wild berries. Picked them on the way here. Non-toxic. High sugar content,” Tang Ling said blandly. “Good for snacking.”
