Figuring out who was behind that omega actually wasn’t that hard.
Her daily route was way too simple—either at school or at home. And at school, aside from classes, she spent most of her time in the student council. From the moment the omega girl started approaching him, Ji Chenxi had been monitoring her communication devices, but nothing unusual ever showed up. That made things pretty clear—whoever she was meeting was either a classmate from her major or someone from the student council.
Between those two options, Ji Chenxi naturally leaned toward the student council. And within the council, who did she interact with the most—and who would raise the least suspicion?
Once everything was laid out together, narrowing it down wasn’t difficult. He marked all the places she had stayed for long periods, and in the end, Ji Chenxi successfully locked his focus onto three people.
Lan Ruoxi was probably the one Ji Chenxi found the least likely—yet also the least surprising.
She was a female alpha. Sometimes, female alphas were actually more popular with omegas than male alphas, because they carried a kind of softness and delicacy unique to women, unlike male alphas who tended to be forceful and domineering. And Lan Ruoxi stood out even among female alphas.
She was bright and beautiful, warm and generous, and loved fluffy little cats. She seemed soft, yet she was the only S-rank alpha in her cohort. She had once turned the tide in a championship, and in battles, she had taken down countless male alphas who looked stronger and more powerful than her.
At one point, Lan Ruoxi had been one of the most popular alphas in the Royal Academy. Her connection with Wen Rui was actually simple—a “hero saving the beauty” moment that Lan Ruoxi herself probably never even thought twice about. But Wen Rui became obsessed with her because of it, even starting to pursue her like crazy.
Because he knew Wen Rui truly liked Lan Ruoxi, Ji Chenxi hadn’t paid much attention to their multiple meetings.
At first, he ignored Lan Ruoxi for that reason. Another reason was—what motive could she possibly have? They had no grudges in the past or present. It couldn’t be that she held a grudge just because he didn’t let her touch his spiritual form, right?
“What do you think—does Lan Ruoxi have someone behind her?” Ji Chenxi asked Chi Zhuo while flipping through the files.
“She doesn’t have an obvious motive.”
Chi Zhuo’s answer was short and clear. The implication, though, was that someone was behind her.
“Maybe I offended her somewhere along the way.” Ji Chenxi said, pretending to think.
Chi Zhuo lifted his eyes slightly, a hint of amusement in them. “You mean dumping all the student council work on her?”
Ji Chenxi smiled. “Who knows?”
“Then her tolerance is way too low.” Chi Zhuo commented, then added, “Want to guess if she’s already fled out of fear of punishment?”
“I think she’s probably acting like everything’s normal. If she runs, that’s basically admitting guilt. If she doesn’t, and I don’t have clear evidence, I can’t really do anything to her just based on a guess.”
Lan Ruoxi’s choice was smart. Unfortunately, Ji Chenxi actually did have some solid evidence in his hands.
“If Lan Ruoxi has someone backing her, do you think it’s my elder brother making another move, or my second sister striking back?” Ji Chenxi asked with a smile after going through all the information.
His mindset was honestly impressive. Chi Zhuo added a piece of information that wasn’t in the files.
“The First Prince ran into rebels during interstellar travel. His escort squad was blown up, and he was only saved by General Chris. He’s still lying in a treatment pod. You could say the losses were heavy.”
Ji Chenxi’s eyes darkened slightly. Something like that couldn’t possibly be staged—it was the kind of situation where he could’ve died for real. That made it far less likely that his elder brother was behind this.
If both he and his elder brother ran into trouble, the one who benefited most would naturally be his second sister. Right now, everything seemed to point toward her. But Ji Chenxi just felt like things weren’t that simple. Would Ji Zhiqing really do something with flaws this obvious? That didn’t match her usual style at all.
All three royals had problems. His second sister’s side was his doing. Then what about his and his elder brother’s incidents? Who was behind those?
It felt like a thick fog lay ahead. Instead of feeling uneasy, Ji Chenxi grew excited.
“This is starting to get interesting.”
Chi Zhuo poured cold water on his enthusiasm. “Your Highness, you’d better take it easy. A third-party force has already stepped into your fight for the throne.”
“You’re that sure?”
“Not completely. But the possibility of a third party is the highest.”
“Got any suspects?” Ji Chenxi planned to use Chi Zhuo’s thoughts as a reference.
“The human experiments from before.”
“Oh?” Ji Chenxi sounded curious. He was genuinely interested in how this third-party force could be tied to human experiments.
“I’m just speculating. There’s no solid proof.” Chi Zhuo made that clear first before continuing. “Someone in our team followed up on those experiments. We didn’t figure out much about how to deal with my glands, but we did discover another direction their research was heading.”
“Artificial humans.” Ji Chenxi said it almost without hesitation.
Compared to forcibly altering genes, creating artificial humans through chip implantation was much simpler.
These days, household robots, security robots, and combat robots were everywhere. Even sex robots had gone through multiple upgrades. Not to mention combat robots—early on, people had already tried to create robots using S-rank genetic sequences, aiming to match S-rank strength. Although that research was quickly banned by higher authorities, private studies continued. And even back then, it had already been proven that the upper limit of combat robots was S-rank—they couldn’t go beyond that.
“Do you think artificial humans could develop their own consciousness, and then turn around and control humans?”
Ji Chenxi blinked. “It’s not impossible. But if that really happens, it’d be nothing short of a disaster.”
Human experiments. Artificial humans. Would Chi Zhuo bring this up for no reason? Obviously not. Which meant Chi Zhuo suspected that this third-party force came from those artificial humans.
That was a pretty bold idea.
Ji Chenxi noted it down and planned to investigate it thoroughly using the dark web. If artificially created humans had gained self-awareness—and even developed rebellious intentions, going so far as to set traps against the royal family—that would be terrifying.
He had been gone for far too long. After getting a rough idea of what had happened during the days he was unconscious, Ji Chenxi prepared to leave. Before going, he glanced around Chi Zhuo’s room again. His eyes were immediately drawn to that massive painting—its bold black-and-white contrast, and the small signature at the bottom. If he wasn’t mistaken, it belonged to a famous painter from a thousand years ago. As for the painting itself, it had never appeared before.
The simpler something looked, the harder it actually was to create. Being able to express beauty with simplicity equal to complexity was incredibly difficult. With that artist’s reputation added in, the painting was probably worth an entire small planet.
In comparison, the painting beside it looked completely ordinary.
Ji Chenxi had almost looked away, but his gaze lingered on that plain painting for a couple more seconds. Then he smiled, his eyes curving slightly.
“Brother Chi Zhuo, this wouldn’t happen to be the painting from that auction house, would it?”
Chi Zhuo’s eyes flickered for a moment, a trace of guilt flashing through as if he’d been caught. But he quickly regained his composure.
“Is it? Maybe it just looks similar.”
“A Rakshasa painted with black, red, and blue isn’t exactly common. Not to mention the details are identical.” Ji Chenxi didn’t give him any room to dodge, directly pointing out the similarities.
Seeing that Ji Chenxi had already made up his mind, Chi Zhuo simply gave up pretending.
“Yeah, it’s the same one. Didn’t you say it looked nice back then? So I thought I’d put it in my room.”
Ji Chenxi’s smile grew even brighter. “Oh~ I see!”
After Ji Chenxi left, someone came to Chi Zhuo’s side and reported to him in a low voice.
“Master, the net has been closed. Most of the people involved have already been dealt with.”
Since Chi Zhuo hadn’t spoken, the man didn’t dare say anything more and simply stood there waiting.
“Have Hua Yao personally oversee it.”
A cold voice came from above. The man quickly withdrew. Before leaving, he glanced at his master from the corner of his eye. The man had sharp brows and thin lips, with a heavy pressure around him that made his features seem even more fierce and untamed—just one look was enough to make people feel afraid.
After returning to school, Ji Chenxi first checked in to report his return, then casually headed toward the student council.
When others saw him, their expressions were normal. Some even came up to greet him, asking if he was feeling better. One alpha—someone Ji Chenxi usually chatted with besides Su Yu and Gu Hechuan, and could be considered a friend—said directly:
“Third Prince, you can’t just tough out your rut. Next time something like that happens, just go see a doctor.”
“What kind of situation are you talking about?” Ji Chenxi asked with a smile.
“Like being induced into heat by an omega. Classmate Wen Rui already contacted the school to explain what happened. She said she was worried when she woke up and couldn’t find you. By the way, facing an omega with such a high compatibility, how did you manage to hold back, Your Highness?”
As he spoke, countless people nearby pricked up their ears. Even their steps slowed down—they clearly wanted to hear the details.
After the omega girl had been found earlier, she had only said a few things before being taken away by the military. Now that the other party involved had returned, of course everyone wanted to know more.
Seeing that the other person wanted to keep chatting, Ji Chenxi casually dodged with a few vague replies and slipped away.
The student council had excellent facilities—two dedicated buildings and a garden. As for the higher-ups, they each had their own office. Right now, Ji Chenxi was knocking on President Lan Ruoxi’s office door.
When he heard “Come in,” he pushed the door open and entered.
Lan Ruoxi sat elegantly, sipping her coffee. From her demeanor alone, there was no way to tell what she had done before.
Ji Chenxi smiled and greeted her. “Good morning, President Lan.”
Lan Ruoxi lifted her gaze from under half-lowered lids, took a light sip of her coffee, then smiled back. “Good day, Your Highness.”
“Seems like President Lan doesn’t really welcome me.”
“Then it seems my expression management still needs work.” Lan Ruoxi replied smoothly.
“You probably guessed I’d come to you. So what’s giving you the confidence to stay this calm?”
“It’s not really confidence. If I have to say, it’s about you and the head of the Chi family. Honestly, I was a bit surprised when I first found out.”
“That’s just nonsense, President Lan. What could there possibly be between me and that person from the Chi family? On the other hand, you’re the one facing imminent disaster.”
The sound of orderly footsteps echoed—it was a group of well-trained personnel approaching. They stopped outside the door.
Being able to have the military directly arrest her meant Ji Chenxi already had solid proof that she was behind what happened. As for why he acted so decisively, it was naturally because they believed she had nothing that could prove their connection.
Before the military entered, Ji Chenxi asked one last question.
“Do you regret it?”
“Regretting what you’ve done is just pathetic.”
“Want to guess how you were exposed?”
“There’s nothing to guess. That fragile omega couldn’t endure the interrogation, right?”
“Her name was Wen Rui. Seventeen years old. S-rank spiritual power. But unfortunately, she’s already dead—suicide. And until her last moment, she never revealed who her accomplice was.”
Lan Ruoxi’s eyes shifted slightly beneath her lashes. In the end, she let out a soft breath and said coldly:
“I see. How foolish.”
TL Note: Sorry guys for the irregular chapter updates—life suddenly got super hectic 😅 But I finally found some time and finished translating AMTPA, yay!! I’ve scheduled the chapters, so you’ll be getting new ones every two days. Hope you’re enjoying the novel so far!
(If you want to read ahead, you can grab the unreleased chapters on my Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/elsa1530/shop)
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)
