Gege’s scent had to be sweet.
This was their first kiss since reuniting—he’d bet his life on it. Qi Song had definitely never gotten treatment like this. That guy always liked to act all aloof in front of gege, and in the end, he’d only ever suffer in silence.
He just wanted the feeling of that kiss to linger in his heart forever, unforgettable for a lifetime.
Chi Zhan, however, had no idea about the storm raging inside Chu Xingxiao’s chest. After a moment’s thought, seeing that the other didn’t seem too upset about his attempt to escape, he chose to ask the most pressing question first:
“Did you put a tracker on me?”
Because he couldn’t speak loudly, he had no choice but to mimic Xiao Xing’s usual way of whispering directly into his ear. But the posture was far too intimate, and Chi Zhan felt a bit uncomfortable. Xiao Xing, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed.
Or maybe it was just too dark to see what expression Xiao Xing was wearing.
Thinking this, Chi Zhan pulled back after speaking and returned to his original position.
Chu Xingxiao gave a lazy smile.
“I doubt the Academy would give students equipment that advanced during a training exercise. But I did plant something on you that lets me track you. No matter where you run, I’ll find you.”
There was no overt threat in his words, but the implication couldn’t have been clearer.
Chi Zhan wasn’t surprised at all.
Earlier that afternoon, Xiao Xing had managed to find him once—that could be written off as coincidence. But now it was deep into the night, and finding someone in a forest this vast was no simple task.
The real question was: what exactly had Xiao Xing used to track him? And when had he done it?
After escaping, Chi Zhan had immediately searched his clothes but found nothing suspicious.
“It was wrong of me to deceive you,” Chu Xingxiao admitted. “But here, we’re opponents. If you were in my shoes, you’d have done the same.”
Chi Zhan still couldn’t wrap his head around why Xiao Xing was so hellbent on chasing him. The guy had combed through the entire forest for him, hadn’t even tried to take his badge, and had even given him his own. Why?
They had no personal history, no emotional ties. Why was this guy clinging to him like this? Didn’t he have his own objectives?
Chi Zhan had wanted to persuade him, but Chu Xingxiao’s next line instantly crushed the speech he’d just composed in his head.
“I wouldn’t.”
Chu Xingxiao said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“If you caught me and let me follow you around, I’d be over the moon. Why would I run?”
“……”
He frowned. “Have we met before? Did I do something to wrong you? If I did, I apologize—”
“Don’t apologize,” Chu Xingxiao cut him off cleanly. “What’s the point of an apology if it’s just words? If you mean it, prove it with actions.”
That sentence all but confirmed they’d had some sort of falling out in the past.
But no matter how hard Chi Zhan tried, he couldn’t recall ever having any interaction with Xiao Xing. That silver hair of his wasn’t exactly common at the Academy—if they’d met before, he’d definitely remember.
“I can help you earn points. Within my capability,” Chi Zhan offered calmly.
“Who the hell wants those useless points?” Chu Xingxiao grumbled in frustration, then dropped a bombshell: “I want you—to kiss me.”
Chi Zhan nearly thought he’d misheard.
The air fell utterly silent.
But Chu Xingxiao repeated himself, enunciating clearly, “Kiss me. Is that really so hard?”
Chi Zhan responded without hesitation, “I refuse. I’m not an Omega. If you’re trying to flirt, you’ve picked the wrong person,” he said evenly. “If you don’t accept my apology, I have nothing more to say. But if you’re trying to humiliate me, don’t blame me for retaliating.”
No wonder Chi Zhan misunderstood.
The training assessment was supposed to be a serious affair—everyone’s minds were focused on victory, not some romantic nonsense. Unless it was all just a joke to him.
Chu Xingxiao was momentarily stunned, then instantly furious.
What did Chi Zhan take him for? How could he possibly humiliate the person he loved most? Did gege really think he was some lowlife scumbag?!
Even though he knew Chi Zhan had no memory of the past, his chest still ached. His voice dropped several shades deeper.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Chi Zhan pressed. “That’s not something you say to just anyone. It’s… shameless.”
Xiao Xing was undeniably good-looking—easily top three in the Academy—but someone who opened with “kiss me” had to be a total player. That was Chi Zhan’s assessment: this guy was probably a walking red flag.
Chu Xingxiao had no idea he’d already been labeled a scumbag in Chi Zhan’s mind. All he felt was a sour, unbearable jealousy bubbling up in his chest like overturned vinegar.
He wasn’t allowed a single kiss, and yet Qi Song got to cradle gege in his arms as they slept, sweet and content.
Maybe Qi Song was right. Maybe somewhere deep in gege’s subconscious, he still instinctively trusted the familiar presence of Qi Song, while he—Chu Xingxiao—was nothing but a stranger. Distant. Cold. Always kept at arm’s length.
And yet… he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Frustration ballooned inside his chest. His words came out rough and biting: “Yeah, I am that kind of person. Either way, you’re not getting away from me. If you keep stalling and someone else finds us, I won’t lift a finger to help.”
Even though he knew he shouldn’t say it—knew words like that would only push gege further away—his pride refused to let him back down. His mouth and mind weren’t on the same team. Maybe it was his ego that kept him from softening, from admitting defeat.
But the moment the words left his lips, he regretted them.
Now gege would really think he was just some sleazy creep. How could they possibly get along after this? Even if he tried to backtrack now, it would just sound like a feeble excuse.
Chi Zhan went silent.
And Chu Xingxiao’s eyes dimmed.
He’d ruined everything.
All the joy he’d felt over finally getting a chance to be close to gege—staying up all night just from the excitement—now seemed laughably naïve. In Chi Zhan’s eyes, he was just a stranger. A weirdo who’d popped up out of nowhere, said a bunch of baffling things, and made no sense at all.
