“Would you believe me if I said it just wanted a little taste ahead of time?”
Chi Zhuo didn’t say yes or no. He just kept staring at Ji Chenxi with that meaningful look of his, then reached out and ruffled the big, fluffy head in front of him. It must’ve felt way too good, because the snow leopard actually leaned in close, rubbing against him like some spoiled housecat.
Well, that was impossible to explain away. How the hell was he supposed to explain this?
What, that he and his own spirit beast weren’t on the same page? Yeah right. Even Ji Chenxi couldn’t believe that excuse, but he really didn’t know why his spirit beast was so damn fond of Chi Zhuo. Maybe it was because Chi Zhuo still carried faint traces of his pheromones that hadn’t completely faded?
While the two of them were stuck in that awkward deadlock, the Red Scorpion’s fleet had already surrounded them. And it wasn’t just the blockade—someone over the comms was shouting for them to hand over their target.
Chi Zhuo raised an eyebrow, looking a little surprised. “Oh? So they actually plan to let you live?”
“If I fall into their hands, wouldn’t it be better to just die outright?” Ji Chenxi shot back.
Chi Zhuo didn’t answer.
Ji Chenxi really was feeling the headache now.
He even started wondering if the ship he’d been riding earlier had been planted with something. The Red Scorpion’s men had shown up way too fast. In just a blink, four pirate ships had them boxed in.
Still, it was early. Odds were the Red Scorpion’s top brass hadn’t arrived yet, which meant there was still a slim chance of escape. Wait too long, though, and once more pirates showed up, he’d be trapped for real.
Knowing this, Ji Chenxi decided to be smart about it and broke the silence. “Brother Chi Zhuo, how about we work together? You don’t want to be insulted by a bunch of lowly pirates, do you?”
Chi Zhuo snorted. “Your Highness sure changes his face quick.”
Better to swallow his pride than get caught by pirates for nothing. So Ji Chenxi pressed on, “They still want me alive right now, that’s why they haven’t opened fire. But if you keep giving them no response, it could be photon cannons raining down any second.”
He paused, letting Chi Zhuo weigh the pros and cons, then added with a smirk, “Of course, if Brother Chi Zhuo really wants to die together with me, that’s fine too. I just wonder how the tabloids would write it: ‘Two alphas, failed lovers’ escape, blasted to ashes by a pirate crew’—how’s that sound?”
Chi Zhuo, still stroking his big cat’s fur, let out a muffled laugh and told him flatly, “If they really fired, no one would ever know you and I were on this ship.”
Ji Chenxi wanted to curse. They were literally one step from death, and this guy still couldn’t just play along a little?
He was just about to gamble it all—see whether he was faster, or that Black Mamba serpent was—when Chi Zhuo suddenly shouted in one direction: “Bai Han!”
In that instant, the female beta they’d had restrained somehow pulled out a syringe and stabbed it hard into Shadow’s arm.
Shadow’s eyes widened in shock. He tried to move, but his body went limp, strength draining out of him all at once.
Bai Han pushed up her glasses and quickly went to work on the system Ji Chenxi had just scrambled. Ji Chenxi was still debating whether he should step in himself, but before he could even move, that pale and delicate beta had already undone his interference. Right after, she cranked the defenses up to maximum. With shields up, those two could keep their little standoff going for a while longer if they wanted.
Nether frowned at Shadow, who had collapsed weakly to the ground.
Bai Han spoke without even glancing back, “Relax, it’s just some harmless stuff. If the master allows, I can bring him back to normal right now.”
Hearing that, Shadow shifted his gaze toward Chi Zhuo. To his horror, the man’s hand had moved from the snow leopard’s head to its round little ears. Not the pointy kind like a cat’s, but perfectly round ones—cute, ridiculously so. But come on! At a time like this, one of them was busy petting a cat, while the other was locked in a staring contest with a venomous snake. Could they be serious for once?
Ji Chenxi didn’t want this either. Who the hell wanted to play a staring game with a poisonous snake? But instead of cooperating with him, Chi Zhuo preferred to let his subordinate strengthen the ship’s defenses first.
At this rate, Ji Chenxi thought grimly, his big dumb cat was going to get completely sweet-talked.
Feeling worn out, he finally asked, “So what do you want?”
“What do I want? Didn’t I already make it clear?”
“Isn’t there something less bloody? I mean, you’re not just slaughtering me here, you’d be killing a snow leopard too—a snow leopard that can live on land, that can actually cuddle. Don’t be so cruel.”
“You talk nice now, Your Highness. But if I let you go, you swear you won’t come after me later?”
“I won’t!” Ji Chenxi shot back, firm and sharp.
“I don’t believe you.”
Ji Chenxi: “…”
Why even bother talking then? What an annoying old man!!
He fell quiet, but his mind was working. His eyes stayed fixed on the black mamba curled around his leg. The snake’s tongue flicked in and out, and maybe—just maybe—that moment when it flicked was his best shot. But black mambas were fast, dangerously fast. He wasn’t sure he could crush its head before it struck.
While Ji Chenxi stayed silent, Chi Zhuo spoke up again, almost casually. “Your Highness, I’ve actually heard some rumors before. Just not sure if they’re true.”
“What?”
Ji Chenxi answered absentmindedly, still calculating the timing for a clean headshot on the snake.
Chi Zhuo didn’t say what the rumor was. Instead, his spiritual power suddenly flared, and in an instant he conjured up a massive black serpent’s head. The terrifying image came with a strange, echoing hiss that sent the once-lazy big cat flying into the air in fright. In that very moment, Chi Zhuo broke free from the snow leopard’s grip.
Linked as he was to his spirit beast, Ji Chenxi’s head snapped up, and he caught sight of his useless, cowardly cat.
Chi Zhuo smiled, eyes glinting. “I’ve long heard the so-called king of the snowy mountains is actually very timid. A little noise, a slight scare, and they panic. Turns out even a spirit beast is no different.”
Right then, Ji Chenxi’s big cat was so spooked it immediately bit its own tail.
The poor snow leopard had just leapt into the air in fright and now rushed back to its master’s side, desperate for comfort.
Stupid cat! Truly a stupid cat!! Once again, it had thrown him straight into a completely passive situation.
But looking at the obviously terrified leopard, pitifully nudging its head against him, Ji Chenxi still reached out and stroked its head, soothing it softly. “It’s fine, that’s all fake.”
The leopard’s long tail wrapped tightly around Ji Chenxi’s leg. It was really shaken, still trembling from that midair flip—two full rolls before it hit the ground.
Ji Chenxi sighed. Even while silently cursing it for being dumb, his hands gentled as he rubbed its round ears.
“Really, it’s fine. I’m here, aren’t I? If you’re too scared, should I send you back into the spiritual realm?”
But the snow leopard only wound its tail tighter around him, refusing to retreat even though it was terrified.
For Ji Chenxi, that was already good enough. He didn’t expect his timid big cat to ever be as fierce or imposing as other beast kings.
Chi Zhuo, who had just scared it half to death, frowned slightly. He had the upper hand now, but somehow it didn’t feel as satisfying as he thought it would.
Ji Chenxi, meanwhile, could only regret one thing—that back when he’d caught Chi Zhuo, he hadn’t just ordered his snow leopard to snap the man’s neck.
The black mamba coiled around Ji Chenxi’s leg slowly slid away, slithering back to Chi Zhuo’s side.
Ji Chenxi looked on, a little surprised.
Chi Zhuo poured himself a glass of water, his tone casual. “I might not want to let Your Highness off, but I sure as hell don’t feel like getting hunted down by the Red Scorpion pirates either.”
“Oh?” Ji Chenxi honestly didn’t know what to say—how could this man flip sides so fast?
“Think of it as an apology for scaring your spirit beast. Why don’t we put our grudges aside for now and work together?”
It felt like a trap, but Ji Chenxi still nodded. Between Chi Zhuo and the Red Scorpion, at least Chi Zhuo was a familiar devil.
“Then—happy teamwork.”
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)
