The first sentence might have been a tease, but the words that followed were a clear signal to leave.
Chi Zhuo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he used the momentum to pin Ji Chenxi against the chair back. At that moment, he was like a starving beast, drawn by the scent of blood, and after finally tasting that first bit of flesh, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more.
They had kissed before, but this time, as their lips met, Chi Zhuo felt his very soul tremble.
Ji Chenxi tilted his head, silver strands falling over his forehead, half-covering his eyes. The light caught his pale-colored irises, making them look strikingly beautiful. As Chi Zhuo’s strong, possessive kiss paused, he gently brushed his lips against the corner of Ji Chenxi’s eye. Unlike the kiss before, this one was soft, delicate, like kissing something fragile.
Ji Chenxi shivered from the light touch, his lashes fluttering, but he was laughing happily.
It was, without a doubt, the most genuinely joyful laugh Ji Chenxi had shown in recent times.
“So, Chi Zhuo, just one little kiss is enough to get you this worked up?”
His voice was laced with teasing, the kind that made every word playful.
Chi Zhuo could only helplessly hold onto Ji Chenxi, who was laughing so hard he could barely sit up straight. No matter the mood, it was completely ruined by this laughter. Just as Chi Zhuo tried to stand, Ji Chenxi, whose hands were already around his neck, applied just enough pressure to stop him. Leaning close to his ear, he murmured:
“But didn’t I tell you before, Chi Zhuo? Next time you kiss me, you should know what gentleness feels like. Or is your gentleness only a thing of last night?”
His voice darkened slightly at the end, a silent threat spreading through the air. Chi Zhuo tensed every muscle, forcing his instincts under control, and said calmly, “Your Highness can choose to kiss me back.”
Ji Chenxi raised an eyebrow. So confident, so fearless…
Of course, there was a fundamental difference between a beast with claws and a golden canary. No matter how Ji Chenxi tried to guide him earlier, Chi Zhuo’s instincts would always take over eventually.
Ji Chenxi wasn’t exactly known for patience, but this time he simply leaned in, brushing his lips slightly against Chi Zhuo’s, and then, smiling, said, “Go home, little snake.”
Facing Ji Chenxi’s eyes—shimmering and full of warmth, as if every glance carried endless affection—Chi Zhuo quickly looked away. “What kind of name is that?”
Ji Chenxi let out a playful “Ah—” and pretended to be serious while teasing, “Not happy with it? How about ‘small snake’? Or… baby…”
Chi Zhuo’s throat rolled as he stopped the words just before Ji Chenxi could spill out anything more embarrassing, pinching both of Ji Chenxi’s cheeks with two fingers. “Your Highness, I’ll leave right away. I won’t stay the night or cause trouble.”
Even with his face being pinched, Ji Chenxi still looked unbearably cute. He pointed to his cheeks, silently signaling for him to let go.
“No more nonsense,” Chi Zhuo warned.
Ji Chenxi nodded, indicating he would behave.
Chi Zhuo hesitated for a moment, then chose to release him. After letting go, Ji Chenxi obediently didn’t say any more humiliating names, instead pointing toward the door.
When Chi Zhuo stared at him with a dark expression, Ji Chenxi blinked innocently, again signaling that he could leave.
Chi Zhuo pursed his lips and turned away.
Ji Chenxi rested his chin on his hand, watching his retreating figure, guessing at his mood. Maybe he was just embarrassed and a little annoyed—that would pass in a few days. Or maybe he was genuinely angry, thinking this budding affection wasn’t worth continuing and wanting to cut it off entirely.
Ji Chenxi picked up the crystal dice they had thrown during their earlier game. The pinkish-purple dice were dreamy in appearance. He idly tossed them in his hands, and this time, without trying to catch them, they rolled onto the floor. Both landed perfectly on six.
The old butler came over and reported, “Young master, Mr. Chi has taken his hovercar and is heading out of the estate.”
Ji Chenxi nodded, acknowledging it, still playing with the dice they had spent over three hours with.
“Is young master planning to use the Chi family’s influence?” The butler finally asked, after waiting quietly since Mr. Chi arrived at the estate, bringing up the question that had been quietly brewing all along.
“I thought about that before… but maybe not anymore,” Ji Chenxi replied.
Recently, Ji Chenxi had suddenly realized a problem.
Chi Zhuo’s possessiveness was too strong. On the surface, he seemed quiet and restrained, but when he liked someone, he could be surprisingly bold and blatant. Just yesterday, Lu Churan and Manye Zhe had already assumed that Ji Chenxi and Chi Zhuo were in some sort of ambiguous relationship. And today, watching how the two interacted with Su Yu only made Ji Chenxi even more aware of the issue.
If he and Chi Zhuo actually got together, could they really be secret lovers? With Chi Zhuo’s attitude, there was no way they’d stay hidden—everyone would know in minutes.
And if Chi Zhuo was just playing around, using affection as leverage, that would be one thing. But the scary part? What if he was serious too?
If both of them were serious, and neither of them was exactly the type to stay low-profile… Ji Chenxi could already imagine the chaos. The throne would practically be off-limits—his old man would be the first to cancel any possibility of his succession. The royal family would never allow someone in an AA relationship to become the crown heir.
Playing with the two crystal dice, Ji Chenxi grew restless. Finally, with a single decisive toss, the dice shattered into powder.
People often pursued power to gain more freedom, but sometimes, power itself became another kind of cage.
This month had been particularly turbulent. First, the Third Prince had been chased by star pirates. Then, the Imperial Star had discovered a human experimentation lab. And now, the attempted assassination of the Third Prince while he was out with the Lu family heiress. Understandably, the Emperor was furious, and in response, he handed over a sharply trained unit—the Royal Guard—to the Third Prince.
This guard was led by a highly accomplished young major general. Originally, this team was supposed to serve the Crown Prince, and the young general was supposed to become the crown prince’s confidant. But now, the emperor had handed the unit to the Third Prince instead. The only thing missing was the official title of heir apparent.
Receiving this news, Ji Chenxi, who had been in a perfect position to reap the benefits, frowned. Things weren’t looking good.
Morning Star was the first to contact Ji Chenxi after hearing the news. The moment the connection was established, Morning Star let out a long sigh.
Ji Chenxi’s strategy had been going perfectly: manipulating public opinion to trap the eldest prince and the second princess in a situation where they would have to prove their innocence while suspecting each other of sabotage. This should have led to a bloody showdown between them. But now, before this silent war had even begun, the Emperor had already intervened, giving the Royal Guard to the Third Prince.
“Third Prince, I honestly can’t tell whether that person likes you or dislikes you.”
“Probably both,” Ji Chenxi said. “He doesn’t want me to get that position too easily. If those two had been fighting, I could’ve stolen a couple more years to build my influence at the Royal Academy. But now that the Royal Guard has been assigned, those two won’t want to waste their strength. If it weren’t for this new friction, they might even team up against me.”
“Your Highness… have you considered teaming up with either the eldest prince or the second princess?” Morning Star’s voice came over, along with the soft scratching of a pen across paper.
“I did think about it,” Ji Chenxi replied. “I tried bringing up old matters with my eldest brother. It stirred something in him, but he listens too much to his mother—and she happens to see me as a thorn in her side, a threat she’d love to get rid of immediately. So the chances of cooperation there are almost zero. My second sister, on the other hand… she’s spent these years keeping a low profile. Her reputation and strategy are flawless. But precisely because of that, she’s not someone I should ally with either.”
Working with someone clever means always being ready for betrayal. If he teamed up with his second sister, suspicion would run both ways. Success would be difficult.
Morning Star had already analyzed both of them, and asking Ji Chenxi now was just to help plan the next move.
“Your Highness… now that you’ve been pushed to the edge, you must tread carefully.”
Ji Chenxi chuckled lightly. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“The Night Wanderer mentioned that you have an ambiguous relationship with an alpha.”
“He didn’t tell you which alpha it is?”
“No,” Morning Star frowned slightly. “No matter how I asked, he wouldn’t reveal who the alpha is. Even when he mentioned it to me, he emphasized not to force Que Qi to be with you or push you toward anyone you’re interested in.”
Ji Chenxi’s expression softened. Just as he expected, even if he didn’t say anything, the Night Wanderer wouldn’t give away Chi Zhuo’s identity.
“So… how do you know it’s an alpha?”
“Que Qi.”
Ji Chenxi wasn’t all that surprised. Even in their group chat, there were clear circles within circles—people who were closer to some than others. Like Traveler and Crow, the Night Wanderer and him, and then Morning Star and Que Qi.
They said that Que Qi had known Morning Star since she was a teenager. And even though she was surrounded by talented alphas, she never showed the slightest interest in any of them. The Night Wanderer had even come to Ji Chenxi once, half-jokingly trying to figure out whether Que Qi might actually like Morning Star.
Compared to them, Wang Tu was the only one who truly treated everyone equally. He was friendly with everyone in the group, always speaking openly and never singling anyone out for private chats.
Morning Star had already prepared himself for Ji Chenxi’s anger. After all, not only had he carried out their earlier plans without even informing Ji Chenxi first, but now he’d also tried to dig into his personal life.
But, unexpectedly, Ji Chenxi’s tone was calm.
“It’s true,” Ji Chenxi said lightly. “I do have an ambiguous relationship with an alpha.”
“Your Highness,” Morning Star replied, “if you want to succeed, you can’t leave behind any weakness for others to use. The Royal Guard will be arriving soon—they’re there to protect you, yes, but also to watch you. You—”
Before he could finish, Ji Chenxi cut him off. “Chen Xing, the reason I chose to work with you in the beginning was because I saw your potential. You’re not like the others. Your background and knowledge make you the perfect candidate to be a nation’s teacher. But maybe that’s exactly the problem. You’re too driven by what you think benefits me—you make decisions without even asking. I hope you still remember who is the master and who is the servant between us.”
For the first time, Morning Star felt the sharp edge beneath Ji Chenxi’s usually mild demeanor. But instead of being alarmed, he laughed softly.
“Your Highness, three years ago, I knelt before you and pledged myself to your cause. Three years later, I still would. It’s just… during these years, you’ve made me wonder if there’s still any point in following you.”
Then, in that same warm voice, now tinged with something excited and fervent, he continued, “But now, I see it clearly. You will be the only one fit for that throne. If you like an alpha, then once you take that position, you can have whoever you want.”
“Is that so?” Ji Chenxi’s voice turned dangerously low.
“Of course,” Morning Star said with an almost teasing sincerity. “Even if the one you wanted… was me, I’d offer myself to you without a second thought.”
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
