Cen Chi’s words had barely begun when the air around them suddenly dropped in pressure, the temperature plunging to freezing in an instant. Zhou Yanxing fixed his gaze on him, eyes narrowing faintly.
Those nearby sensed the shift and quickly stepped aside, not wanting to be caught in the heir apparent’s sudden fury. They had no idea what had provoked His Highness—only that the newly arrived illegitimate son seemed to have upset him.
“…He’s just someone I know,” Cen Chi replied casually, as if unaware of the chilling atmosphere. “But I suppose gege isn’t interested in that. I’ll excuse myself.”
“Wait a moment. What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“That doesn’t concern gege, does it?” Cen Chi smiled slightly, lingering just enough to leave the question hanging, then turned and walked away.
Zhou Yanxing watched him go with cold eyes, suppressing the urge to beat him up on the spot—exactly what Cen Chi must have wanted. Besides, how could Chi Zhan possibly be dating Cen Chi?
It was inconceivable.
Zhou Yanxing snapped a bean from a dish between his teeth, cracking it sharply. After a moment of composure, he planned to check the holo-screen—and have someone investigate Cen Chi’s recent activities—but first, he noticed a message from Laiyi sent thirty minutes ago.
The image was a candid shot of Chi Zhan, clearly taken without his knowledge—his black hair neat, dressed in a clean shirt, a silver nameplate gleaming on his chest in the sunlight.
Zhou Yanxing immediately dialed Laiyi, but the call went unanswered. He stood there silently for a moment before striding toward the banquet’s entrance.
“Your Highness, where are you going? The party isn’t over yet…”
“Who dares to stop me?” Zhou Yanxing’s voice was icy.
The oppressive aura of his pheromones brooked no argument—as though anyone who spoke would instantly be struck down. The crowd fell silent, watching helplessly as he stormed out of the palace.
***
When Chi Zhan heard that voice, disbelief surged through him, and he instinctively tried to turn his head. But he was still kneeling on the sofa, one hand pinned in place, making the movement painfully difficult. All he could glimpse from the corner of his eye was a tall figure and the edge of a black mask.
It was the first time he’d seen the Crown Prince since the end of the exercise.
Chi Zhan opened his mouth to speak, then faltered—this wasn’t the time or place to reveal his identity. He hesitated. That brief silence, however, was enough for the Prince to take it as defiance.
Zhou Yanxing’s voice exploded, thunderous and sharp as a lit fuse nearing detonation.
“I asked you a question—why won’t you answer me?”
Chi Zhan’s mind raced. Why was the Crown Prince here? Had he nearly uncovered “S’s” identity? Should he have kept pressing? But the Prince’s anger was unmistakable—and Chi Zhan had no idea what had sparked it.
The situation had never felt more volatile.
He shifted slightly, intending to free “S.” But the Prince’s gaze landed on the other figure—and the scene couldn’t have looked more compromising: Chi Zhan was straddling “S,” practically leaning into him. Rage surged through Zhou Yanxing like a tidal wave. His temples pounded, a vein pulsing visibly at the side of his head.
“He… who… is… he?” The words came out one at a time, each heavy as a hammer blow, each laced with lethal intent.
“I—I can explain! But could you please… let go of my wrist first?” Chi Zhan gasped, the Prince’s grip threatening to snap bone.
Zhou Yanxing paused, then finally released him. His expression darkened as his gaze flicked between the two of them. Before arriving, he’d injected himself with a double dose of suppressants—barely enough to rein in his pheromones and his temper.
Chi Zhan slid off “S,” but “S” reached out and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Chi Zhan was at a loss. He had no idea why the Prince was here, why he was furious, or why he’d confronted “S” in the first place. But whatever he’d come to ask of “S” couldn’t be revealed to the Prince.
Whether it was investigating someone from the Federation or conducting another pheromone test, none of it could be spoken of in front of him.
Seeing Chi Zhan remain silent, Zhou Yanxing didn’t lash out. Instead, he smiled—a cold, unreadable smile.
“So you’re choosing silence now?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide anything, it’s just…” Chi Zhan tread carefully, making it sound trivial. “It’s really just a small personal matter. I didn’t want to waste Your Highness’s time.”
“Oh? And now you’re learning how to appease me?” Zhou Yanxing gave a curt nod. “Very clever.”
Chi Zhan began again, “Your Highness, I’m not avoiding anything—it’s just some small matters…”
Before he could finish, his wrist went numb. A second later, he heard the sharp click of metal.
His hands had been cuffed behind his back.
The Prince had moved so quickly, Chi Zhan hadn’t even registered it.
Zhou Yanxing leaned in, adjusted Chi Zhan’s position until he was half-reclining on the sofa, then seated himself in the chair opposite—his gaze locked onto him, cold and unrelenting.
