Chi Zhuo didn’t even change his expression. He followed Ji Chenxi’s hand and leaned in to kiss him again, then said calmly, “Your Highness really knows how to say things that get under someone’s skin.”
Ji Chenxi laughed so hard he almost couldn’t stop. “I didn’t though. Wasn’t it you, Brother Chi Zhuo, who said you’d let me see what a ‘downfall of morals’ really looks like?”
Chi Zhuo felt a bit helpless, but there wasn’t even a hint of anger in him. He lifted his hand and lightly tapped Ji Chenxi on the nose with his finger. “So what you’re saying is that this is my fault?”
Ji Chenxi raised his brows slightly, his tone bright and innocent. “Either way, it’s definitely not my fault.”
Chi Zhuo looked at Ji Chenxi, and Ji Chenxi stared right back at him, steady and shameless, not a trace of guilt on his face.
Facing him head-on, Chi Zhuo lowered his eyes and gave in. “Alright, it’s my fault.”
“You’re not even going to struggle a bit?”
“I can’t beat Your Highness’s silver tongue. Struggling wouldn’t help.”
“You make me sound like a bad person,” Ji Chenxi said, frowning on purpose.
“It’s not just sounding like it,” Chi Zhuo replied. “Your Highness already is one.”
“…I misjudged you.”
Chi Zhuo finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a very soft laugh. “It’s too late to regret it now.”
Already sensing the monitoring drone drawing near with his spiritual power, Chi Zhuo reminded him, “The surveillance device is coming.”
“Mm. We still have about half a minute to chat.”
“Then should we smash it again?”
Hearing those words from the usually level-headed Chi Zhuo, Ji Chenxi froze for a moment. He really hadn’t expected that to come out of Chi Zhuo’s mouth. He laughed and said, “Brother Chi Zhuo wants to walk the same path as me that badly?”
“I only asked because Your Highness looks like you really want to,” Chi Zhuo said evenly. “If you don’t, then there’s no need to smash it.”
“Are you always this good at saying one thing and meaning another, Brother Chi Zhuo?”
What sounded like a question was really full of teasing. Say it another way and it would be, “Are you really this clingy?” Chi Zhuo could clearly see that Ji Chenxi still wanted to stay with him, and for once, he found himself at a loss for words—especially since he couldn’t fully deny it.
Ji Chenxi didn’t dwell on that point either. He said it straight out, “I don’t mind hanging out with you, Brother Chi Zhuo, but if we smash another one, it’ll probably catch the school’s attention. I’d rather not become known to the higher-ups before I even officially enroll, all because I kept breaking recorder drones.”
Even though Ji Chenxi had already destroyed quite a few by now, before this it had all been forced by the situation. Every single recorder had been “accidentally” shattered only because those people dodged too fast.
“I’m about to leave. If you’ve got anything you want to say, say it now.”
Chi Zhuo thought it over for a moment, then asked, “Do you want me to hold back in the next assessment?”
Under normal circumstances, Chi Zhuo would never ask something like this. Not taking an opponent seriously was a form of disrespect. But now there were recorders flying all over the place, capturing every candidate’s performance. If Ji Chenxi showed too much of his real strength, it would be easy to draw the attention of his older brother and second sister again. So he was bound to hide his power—but even hiding had its limits. Standing out too much was bad, yet being too average wasn’t good either.
What Ji Chenxi needed to do was match that S+ candidate, or be just a bit better. And on top of that, he still had to keep some strength in reserve, not letting his true power slip. Something that should’ve been simple suddenly became tricky.
Chi Zhuo coming here was largely just for fun. How he performed didn’t really matter to him, which made him the perfect tool for Ji Chenxi to make a splash.
“Hold back?” Ji Chenxi repeated, then smiled and shook his head.
“We’re about to part ways, and that’s what you want to say to me? Compared to you holding back, I’d much rather have a proper fight with you.”
“Your Highness, to the outside world, we’re both S-rank,” Chi Zhuo reminded him.
“Isn’t that even better?” Ji Chenxi said lightly. “I’m actually really curious—if we’re both S-rank, who would come out on top?”
Truth be told, Ji Chenxi had been wondering about this for a long time. If they were both S-rank, who would really be stronger in a head-on fight?
For now, purely in terms of combat power, SSS-rank Chi Zhuo definitely had the edge. If it weren’t for the fact that Chi Zhuo’s pheromones had gone out of control back then because of the drug, Ji Chenxi would never have been able to plant his mark on Chi Zhuo’s gland. And after that, there wouldn’t have been things tying Chi Zhuo down every time, or situations where Chi Zhuo even ended up at a disadvantage.
Because that win had been, frankly, ‘not very honorable’, Ji Chenxi had always wanted to beat Chi Zhuo properly, fair and square, at least once.
“Your Highness really has a strong desire to win,” Chi Zhuo said, clearly understanding what he meant.
Ji Chenxi let out a soft “hm,” a casual sound to show he was listening.
“But I’m more than happy to play along.”
The flight recorder Chi Zhou had picked up with his spiritual sense was already getting closer. Ji Chenxi answered with a short sound of agreement, then his figure flashed like a hunting leopard as he slipped into the grass.
Watching Ji Chenxi’s retreating back, Chi Zhuo stood there for a long while, until he could no longer catch even a trace of his presence. Only then did he turn and leave.
The flight recorder lingered beside Chi Zhuo as well, hovering for some time. After he finally moved, it followed him from a distance.
In a time when most alphas were only C-rank, an A-rank alpha was already considered outstanding, let alone an S-rank alpha like Chi Zhuo, who had been out of school for years. Back when he was a student, his many feats could be called low-key—or not low-key at all, depending on how you looked at them. Because of his past performances in large-scale trial grounds, the school’s higher-ups had kept a close eye on him. Now, naturally, they were curious just how far his strength had grown after all these years.
As a result, the attention on this “old student” was no less than what Ji Chenxi was getting.
Of course, Ji Chenxi wasn’t lacking in recorders watching him either. Not long after he parted ways with Chi Zhuo, a small drone latched onto him. After checking his direction, Ji Chenxi still didn’t head for the main battlefield in the west. Instead, he began steadily farming points from freshmen and lone old students.
It was a very smooth process. Compared to bullying freshmen, he actually preferred going after those solo old students who looked pretty capable, since they usually carried a decent amount of points stolen from newcomers.
When he ran into someone a bit stronger, he’d even put on a small act, making it seem like the fight was tough and that he’d only won so fast by relying on clever tricks.
The freshman trial lasts a full month. For the first few days, Ji Chenxi stayed on the edges of the map. Every day, he was either robbing points from others or looking for decent food. While everyone else was downing nutrient drinks day after day, he was busy boiling soup or roasting meat.
Yes—roasting meat.
What made this trial dangerous wasn’t just the older students sent to temper them, but also the alien beasts native to the planet itself.
Lately, Ji Chenxi’s food came from those local beasts—ones with tender meat and no poison.
After eating the same things for several days in a row, Ji Chenxi finally got sick of drinking vegetable mushroom soup and gnawing on roasted meat. He decided to head to the river, catch a few fish, and make some fish soup to improve his meals. Of course, the riverbank was also a favorite spot for both new and old students—water was a must-have, even more important than food.
Before this, he’d managed to find a tree hollow that still held rainwater, which was why he’d been able to avoid that dangerous area for so long.
Today was the seventh day of the trial, the perfect time for a little black-on-black action. Anyone hunting near the water by now was bound to have collected a decent pile of points.
Ji Chenxi moved lightly, like a sleek, agile big cat. After quietly taking out several people, he planned to find a quiet spot and catch some fish.
With a few swift flashes, he arrived at a heavily shaded area, thick with trees and extremely well hidden. But the moment he got there, he caught a faint trace of blood in the air—so light he almost thought he was imagining it.
“Who’s there?”
A breeze swept through, rustling the leaves with a soft ‘shasha’ sound, but no one answered him.
His ears twitched. He tilted his head slightly, as if he’d found something interesting, and looked in one direction with a half-smile. “I’m guessing you don’t want to make your injuries worse, right?”
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)
