“Now what’s going on here?” Prince Zhou Yanxing’s gaze darkened as he spotted something even more serious—his eyes locked on the back of Chi Zhan’s neck.
That spot, once smooth and fair, now bore a conspicuous patch.
Of course, the Crown Prince knew exactly what it was—and every Alpha would recognize it instantly.
“Why are you using an Omega isolation patch to block pheromones?” the prince asked. Seeing Chi Zhan’s bewildered expression, as if unaware of being exposed, he added sternly, “Omega disguising themselves as Beta is a violation of Imperial law.”
***
Chi Zhan stared, confused. He didn’t know what the prince meant—until he followed that fierce gaze and touched the back of his neck.
That feeling…was it a disinfectant patch?
Chi Zhan was completely lost.
Since leaving the infirmary yesterday, he hadn’t reapplied it. He still felt a little uncomfortable, but it was bearable.
Thinking carefully, he faintly remembered someone placing a cool patch on his neck after he collapsed. Try as he might, he couldn’t evade them.
“That’s not an isolation patch. It’s a disinfectant patch. They collected pheromones yesterday, and it’s for sterilization.”
“Is that so.” The prince’s tone was enigmatic as he studied Chi Zhan’s face, searching for any sign of deception—but Chi Zhan betrayed nothing: no flinch, no hint of panic. If there were, they would have been seen by those poisoned, calculating eyes.
After all, someone who could maintain the Crown Prince’s position through palace intrigue was no ordinary person.
Isolation patches and disinfectant patches looked identical on the surface; the difference lay only in the medicine underneath. Isolation patches suppressed pheromones and eased heat cycles, while disinfectant patches merely cleaned and soothed.
Omega heat cycles are genetically determined—external medicine only delays them temporarily. Isolation patches only work on newly matured Omegas; after that, stronger inhibitors are needed.
Of course, Chi Zhan couldn’t be a Beta posing as an Omega.
He grew up in an orphanage and entered the Imperial Military Academy on merit. Upon enrollment, he underwent rigorous pheromone testing. With no influence and no connections, nobody would tamper with his results. The odds of a confirmed Beta spontaneously redividing into an Omega after maturity were vanishingly small—something that might happen only in dreams.
Zhou Yanxing let out a self-mocking laugh—realizing he’d overthought things.
“All because of that damned onboard system.”
He mentally vowed to reformat it first thing back home—stop it from downloading melodramatic romance novels all day. His gaze returned to the uneasy Chi Zhan, his expression sharpening.
Chi Zhan was about to peel off the patch when the prince’s hand pressed firmly on his wrist.
“Afraid of infection? Keep it on properly,” Zhou Yanxing said quietly.
Chi Zhan paused. The pheromone collection wound had long since healed; he didn’t even know why the patch was still there. But the prince’s tone brooked no argument. Chi Zhan quietly said, “Yes, Your Highness. Understood.”
A respectful, proper reply.
Yet Zhou Yanxing couldn’t help feeling irritated by that distant tone—for someone so serious and earnest, genuinely without hidden motives. Why did he feel something was missing when Chi Zhan behaved just so?
After a moment’s silence, Chi Zhan—seeing the prince go quiet—cautiously spoke: “Your Highness, shall I go now?”
The rules were clear: if the “unfortunate soul” caught by the prince could defeat him, they’d win and earn a direct appointment as Secretary. If they lost…they still had chances to challenge others and earn a medal.
“Since you lost, shouldn’t you try to win the medal back?”
“But… I can’t beat you now.”
Chi Zhan knew his limits. Repeated defeats meant his strength wasn’t sufficient. Even if they fought again, the result would be the same.
Better to go back and train harder—maybe by graduation, he’d be stronger.
Instead, the prince said: “Did the academy teach you nothing but fair fights? You have no other methods?”
Other methods?
The opposite of doing things fairly is…
Before he could finish that thought, the prince loosened his grasp.
“Let’s play a game. Five minutes—if I don’t catch you, you win, and I’ll return your medal.”
Chi Zhan nodded at once.
He was much better at hiding and evading. His speed was swift—even the fastest Alpha would struggle to catch him, unless he allowed it.
Four minutes later…
“Got you.” Zhou Yanxing stretched out lazily, using a flexible branch to bind Chi Zhan. Beta night vision was poor—Chi Zhan had stumbled, bumping into trees in a daze, and the prince had felt pity enough to end the game early.
“Are you done running?”
Chi Zhan said nothing.
Thankfully, the prince didn’t mock him further. A cold wind swept past, and only then did Chi Zhan realize the night had grown colder.
Unlike the constancy of the main planetary climate, the island had drastic temperature swings. What had felt comfortable atop a hill in the morning now felt chilled.
He struggled to make out the surroundings, only seeing darkness. The prince paced nearby, then stopped ahead of him.
What was he doing?
Chi Zhan wriggled against the loose branches binding his wrists, torso, waist, and legs—but couldn’t escape.
Another gust of wind, and Chi Zhan sneezed.
A faint “sss” sound, then a small flame leapt into view. The firelight illumined the princely face of Zhou Yanxing, fair and handsome, before he caught a rabbit from nearby, skillfully stripped it clean to bones, and set it roasting over the flames.
