The taste of tequila clung stubbornly between his lips and teeth, and the heavy surge of another alpha’s pheromones flooding his mouth made Ji Chenxi feel sick for a moment.
Seriously, who the hell came up with this stupid “mutual-marking-to-humiliate” trick? Wound your enemy a thousand while you hurt yourself eight hundred—what kind of idiot thought this was worth passing down?!
His tongue brushed against the spot of the mark, trying to scrub away that sharp tequila bite, but the harder he tried, the clearer it became. The more he noticed it, the more uncomfortable he felt.
And yet, since he was the one doing the humiliating, Ji Chenxi couldn’t show even the tiniest hint that he was choking on the taste of alcohol.
The tequila and rose scents tangled together, clashing hard, until they reluctantly formed something that almost passed for sweet. But if you took a closer sniff, it was obvious the two scents were still worlds apart—just forced together, nothing more.
Marking someone for the first time, Ji Chenxi couldn’t help but feel the whole thing was not only cruel, but also painful as hell.
And if it was this bad for him, then Chi Zhou—who had taken the mark head-on—had to be suffering a thousand times worse.
After leaning back just a little, Ji Chenxi caught sight of the swelling, reddened glands, the twisted face fighting to endure the pain, and those vicious, venom-filled eyes glaring right back at him.
Ignoring the irritation gnawing at his own body, Ji Chenxi chuckled and asked, “What’s with that look? Weren’t you just saying you liked me so much you wanted to mark me? I’m just giving you exactly what you wanted.”
“One wrong move, I’ll admit it,” Chi Zhou’s face was dark as water, his voice cutting cold, “Either you kill me here and now, or one day I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
That sharp, biting tequila scent had shifted, softened by the roses into something new—like caramel and honeyed roses with a hint of delicate wood, the liquor strangely turning sweet.
It reminded him a little of something he’d smelled in his mother’s arms as a child.
Ji Chenxi was distracted for just a second before answering flatly, “Then I guess killing you is my only choice.”
Everything he’d done just now had completely offended Chi Zhou, and the best way to avoid being hunted down by a poisonous snake for the rest of his life was to cut off the problem at the root.
Ji Chenxi casually wiped the blood from his face. What really burned him, more than the words in some old book he half-believed, was the thought that he might actually lose to another alpha. Getting rid of a stronger rival ahead of time was the smartest move, no doubt—but why did it feel like he was just taking advantage of someone who’d been drugged? Like he’d scored a cheap win, then planned to finish him off.
His pride as an alpha couldn’t stomach that.
And honestly, if he really went through with it like this… wasn’t that just boring?
For Chi Zhou, having his gland torn open and another alpha’s pheromones forced into his body was nothing less than the ultimate disgrace. Yet instead of breaking him, the agony sharpened his mind.
The drug had locked down his strength, but the nearness of death pushed his body to ignore those restraints and stirred the instinct to fight back.
Chi Zhou had been sure Ji Chenxi would never “let the tiger return to the mountain.” But to his shock, Ji Chenxi actually let him go.
With a handkerchief, Ji Chenxi wiped his hands like it was nothing, then turned to head back toward the noisy banquet hall. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Chi Zhou suddenly lunged. Ji Chenxi raised his spiritual shield just in time, blocking the strike, and turned back to look at him.
With a half-smile, he asked, uncertain, “What’s this? Don’t tell me you’re actually tired of living?”
He’d already pulled back and given the guy the chance to take revenge later, but somehow the other still didn’t look satisfied.
Ji Chenxi didn’t really understand how alpha-to-alpha marking worked; all he knew was that it carried the meaning of conquest and humiliation. Logically, Chi Zhou should be hating his guts right now, wishing he’d get lost so he could plan his payback. So why attack him now? Wasn’t he afraid Ji Chenxi might just get pissed and kill him on the spot?
The tall, lean, black-haired alpha with a narrow waist and broad shoulders didn’t speak. He just stared at Ji Chenxi in silence, his poisonous, ruthless gaze never wavering.
He really didn’t look like someone tired of living.
Ji Chenxi’s sapphire-blue eyes curved faintly as he smiled. “You’re not tired of life, and you’re not clinging to me. You don’t actually think one cheap shot could hurt me. So… are you just trying to piss me off?”
Before Chi Zhou could reply, Ji Chenxi answered himself, certain: “Yeah, you’ve got something up your sleeve.”
Chi Zhou’s brows had been drawn tight this whole time. Another alpha’s pheromones were invading his glands, the rich rose scent flooding out of him like it was his own. Alpha pheromones inside another alpha—it was disgusting, revolting.
But the real problem was… his glands were adapting. Accepting it. The rejection that had burned at first had already begun to blur into something like… merging.
That realization was more terrifying than being drugged and force-marked by an alpha.
Ji Chenxi didn’t expect his words to rattle him, but the look Chi Zhou gave him was strange. Could this really be worse than having your flesh scraped from the bone?
Ji Chenxi wasn’t exactly a good man, but he didn’t think of himself as outright evil either. Inflicting this kind of torment on someone just because of something written in a book—yeah, that was pushing it. His thin scrap of conscience poked at him, and after a second of hesitation, he tossed over his own alpha suppressant.
“Wasn’t really planning for it to go like this. But hey, you brought up marking first, and you were the one who broke my stuff. Let’s call it even. Of course, if you still want payback, I’ll be around anytime.”
With that, Ji Chenxi waved him off and left. At the start, he’d only meant to kill him outright or erase his first meeting with Bai Anran. But now things had gone way off track. Still, no big deal—Ji Chenxi didn’t mind raising a sworn enemy if it came to that.
Chi Zhou’s black eyes darkened as he gripped the pale-blue suppressant. The air around him thickened with killing intent.
A faint crunch of leaves echoed, and a figure emerged soundlessly from the shadows, offering him a vial of pale gold medicine that gleamed under the moonlight.
Chi Zhou took it without care, the pain on his face already gone. He tossed the blue suppressant back at the figure, injected the golden liquid, and said coldly, “Test that thing.”
“Yes.”
Before the shadow vanished, a black mamba snake appeared at its feet. Chi Zhou casually crushed the empty glass vial into powder and ordered in a low, icy voice: “By tomorrow, I want to know every force behind the one who drugged me.”
“Yes.” The voice came again, flat and toneless, before the shadow disappeared as if it had never been there.
Chi Zhou dug his fingers into his glands, dragging out more of that heated rose scent—thick and heady, as if he’d been deeply marked like an omega. But to him, it was nothing but a mark of shame.
Only when he scratched the gland raw, blood spilling out and his own pheromones flooding over the mix to drown it out, did his expression finally ease a little.
Elsewhere, Ji Chenxi was in a surprisingly good mood, humming a little tune as he headed off. It was already late, and he should’ve been in bed hours ago instead of wasting time at some boring party.
Before he left, he happened to bump into Su Yu. “Third Prince, not staying to hang out a bit more?”
Su Yu’s arm was looped through a beautiful omega’s. The delicate omega stared curiously at the unusually tall and good-looking young man, her eyes wide with wonder.
Ji Chenxi waved casually, just a greeting. “I’m heading back. Maybe next time.”
“Oh? Third Prince, did your earring fall off?”
Why bring up something like that?
Ji Chenxi, who had been in a good mood just moments ago, suddenly remembered something that stung. He casually took off the remaining black gem, and sure enough, all that was left beneath it was a tiny black thread.
“I was just planning to switch it anyway,” he said, lowering his eyes to hide all the color and life in them. This time, he left decisively, no hesitation.
Su Yu rested his head lightly against his. “Nuan Nuan, tell me—is Third Prince acting a little strange? He seemed to really like that yin-yang fish earring before, wore it for years… If I remember right, it was some kind of heirloom.”
Su Nuan, squished and uncomfortable, said, “Hey, brother, your head is really heavy!”
“Nuan Nuan, you’re no longer my cute little sister. You hurt me.”
Before Su Yu could scold her further, Su Nuan asked, “Brother, is that Third Prince?”
Su Yu blinked. “Huh? Is there a problem?”
“But isn’t Third Prince a rose-scented alpha?” The title “Imperial Rose” wasn’t just for show.
That remark made Su Yu realize something. “Hmm… Third Prince did smell a bit of alcohol just now.”
“A bit of alcohol?” That wasn’t just alcohol. That scent carried pheromones. Was he just now with an alpha who smelled of liquor? But normally, being near someone wouldn’t leave such a strong lingering scent.
Ji Chenxi, sitting in his private hovering car with eyes closed, noticed this too. Irritated, he opened his eyes. In the confined space, the lingering tequila scent clung stubbornly, refusing to fade.
If the aftereffect was this strong, it seemed Chi Zhou’s revenge wouldn’t take long to arrive.
The next day, Ji Chenxi sifted through a pile of earrings and finally found a tassel earring almost identical to the yin-yang fish earring. The tassel had a glass bead with a koi fish inside. He examined the little koi carefully, then, satisfied, put it in his right ear. The left ear had its pair, a teardrop-shaped earring made of gold.
He looked himself over from top to bottom.
He gave himself a thumbs-up—this one could replace his most treasured piece.
When Su Yu arrived, someone was arranging flowers.
The silver-haired beauty calmly snipped at the branches, the servants brought tea for the guests, and only then did he ask casually, “What’s up?”
“I heard that person’s been looking for a rose-scented alpha recently.”
“Hmm?” Ji Chenxi didn’t take it too seriously. It would’ve been strange if Chi Zhou ‘wasn’t’ looking for him.
“Hmm? This is about finding you, right? There aren’t many rose-scented alphas.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? What do you mean ‘maybe’? No wonder your body had such a strong alcohol-pheromone smell that night… so you were with him, weren’t you?”
Ji Chenxi paused mid-cut while trimming the flower branches, a faint smile appearing on his face. “So… what’s the situation? You want to know?”
“Of course I want to know,” Su Yu said eagerly.
Ji Chenxi deliberately waited a little longer, only speaking when Su Yu was about to push for an answer. “I… sacrificed my looks on him.”
“What?”
“And in return, he made me lose my most precious thing.”
Su Yu immediately began imagining all sorts of scenarios based on Ji Chenxi’s words, trembling as he stammered, “Your… most precious thing? That… no way, right? How could he possibly be that bold? Are you joking?”
Ji Chenxi didn’t bother with what Su Yu was imagining. He just answered calmly, under Su Yu’s mix of doubt and disbelief: “So… there’s nothing to the story.”
Su Yu fell silent, digesting that on his own.
Much later, when Ji Chenxi had finished arranging all the flowers, Su Yu finally pieced it together. “The precious thing… it was your earring, wasn’t it?”
Ji Chenxi nodded casually, as if it didn’t matter.
“So… what did you do that made him turn it back on you?” Su Yu poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it absentmindedly.
“Oh, him coming after me? That’s normal. I marked him.”
Tea shot out of Su Yu’s mouth, narrowly missing the flowers Ji Chenxi had just arranged.
“You almost got yourself killed,” Ji Chenxi said flatly, his face darkening.
Su Yu was still coughing uncontrollably, and when he caught his breath, he asked incredulously, “Seriously? You’re not lying, right? Even if he ruined your heirloom, you didn’t have to mark him! I mean… why mark him? How did AAs even come up with this marking thing?”
Ji Chenxi, still faintly sensing the other’s presence, pulled out an overly long branch and trimmed it again. He hadn’t wanted to answer, but under Su Yu’s eager gaze, he spoke in the form of a question: “Because… he wanted to mark me?”
To be honest, Ji Chenxi now felt a bit of regret. Marking an alpha fully maxed out the humiliation, but at first, the act of marking still had this undertone of intimacy or flirtation.
Su Yu’s pupils practically shook in shock. He had seriously underestimated that illegitimate son of the Chi family, he actually dared to mark an imperial prince of the empire.
A thousand words could only come out of Su Yu’s mouth as, “Well done!” Indeed, with a cad like that, the only way to deal with him was tooth for tooth.
Ji Chenxi chuckled, entertained by the completely flustered Su Yu.
Having already been admitted directly to the Imperial Royal Academy, Ji Chenxi had been unusually free lately. When he wasn’t arranging flowers and sipping tea at home, he was picking up oil paints he hadn’t touched in years. He deliberately slowed down the pace of his life, savoring this rare leisure, all the while half-expecting Chi Zhou’s revenge.
The problem was… several days had already passed, and no sign of revenge had come. Instead, the alert for his interstellar flight arrived first.
May 10th—his originally scheduled departure for an interstellar trip. With a dangerous person keeping tabs on him, this journey was bound to be extremely risky. Even though he had booked a highly private flight, who could guarantee Chi Zhou wouldn’t track him down and interfere?
Ji Chenxi, having just laid down a large swath of color on his canvas, glanced briefly at the holographic display and decided to stick to his original plan.
As for the other person’s revenge… well, as he’d said before, he was looking forward to it.
On the eve of his departure, Su Yu kept urging Ji Chenxi not to go out. It seemed he had finally picked up some insider info from the second- and third-generation heirs who were close to the Chi family.
Ji Chenxi replied casually, just enough to show he was listening.
“No, don’t be so dismissive! At least act like you’re actually hearing me!” Su Yu exploded over the comms.
Ji Chenxi, tidying his things with a light chuckle, said, “Alright, don’t worry too much. See you later.”
This interstellar trip, the kind that Ji Chenxi refused to give up, was far from a simple vacation. It was a planetary exploration team, mostly scholars of great knowledge, seasoned mercenaries, and people like him—wealthy and with plenty of free time.
The expedition would last three months, and just securing a spot had taken him two years. Missing a non-privileged, first-come-first-served interstellar trip like this meant who knew when he’d get another chance.
Ji Chenxi, who had stubbornly refused to give up, would soon be quietly cursing his luck and regretting leaving home.
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)
