“If you’re going to leave, then hurry,” Zuo Shihuan said hoarsely, eyes red. “Otherwise, I might not be able to resist… getting revenge.”
He looked up at Gu Heng, pain twisting inside him.
He’d thrown away all pride, begging like a shameless fool to make this cold, unfeeling Beta stay—only to be met with rejection and humiliation so total he could no longer lie to himself, even behind the excuse of drunkenness.
He hated this man before him—and hated himself more for being so pathetic.
“Go on!” Zuo Shihuan shouted. “Why are you still standing there?!”
His eyes burned scarlet with fury and grief, tears falling onto his pale hands faster than he could wipe them away. Embarrassed and enraged, he rubbed at them furiously—but they just kept coming, until he finally gave up, pressing his palms over his eyes.
He didn’t want to be seen like this.
Not by Gu Heng.
Not ever.
The Imperial Crown Prince—always calm, untouchable—stood there now like a fool, words caught in his throat.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to act with his usual ease. Something inside him had shifted.
“…Besides me,” Gu Heng asked quietly, “who else has treated you like this?”
His dark eyes looked down at Zuo Shihuan with confusion and something he couldn’t quite name. Even he didn’t understand the tangle of emotions twisting within him.
Zuo Shihuan gave a mirthless laugh. “It wasn’t you, that’s for sure.”
“Then who?” Gu Heng’s voice was low, tight. The thought that someone else might have dared—before him—sparked a strange, jealous anger.
“You asked me once,” Zuo Shihuan said, mocking, “who I was looking at through you. I’ll tell you—it was a female Beta. Yes, I mistook you for someone else. Satisfied now?”
“A female Beta?”
Gu Heng’s black eyes darkened, and against his will, his mind conjured an image—Zuo Shihuan with another Beta woman. The thought was unbearable, intolerably offensive.
Even if Gu Heng had decided not to accept Zuo Shihuan as an Alpha, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be angry at the thought that Zuo Shihuan had been with someone else—or that he had treated him as a substitute.
With the pride of the Imperial Crown Prince, Gu Heng should have flown into a rage by now, disgusted by this Alpha who carried traces of another’s scent.
Even back in the Empire, Gu Heng had always been arrogant and willful, refusing to attend banquets that included Alphas or Omegas with chaotic private lives. With his extraordinary S-rank sense of smell, he could detect the reeking mixture of pheromones clinging to their bodies—like the stench of rotting fish at a market stall—sickening and revolting.
No matter how noble their titles or how high their ranks, once Gu Heng was present, those people were not allowed to appear; they were to be cleared out on sight.
Because Gu Heng was the untouchable Imperial Crown Prince.
Especially after the Emperor—Gu Fuyan, his father—had been crippled in the last battle against the Zerg Queen. The Queen’s dying counterattack had sprayed him with a deadly corrosive toxin.
Even after the Empire exhausted its entire manpower and resources on surgery, his legs were lost, and the poison could not be purged. It had already spread from his knees up to his thighs.
Even with mechanical legs attached, his remaining days were numbered.
Everyone in the Empire knew that Gu Heng’s ascension to the throne was only a matter of time. How could the sycophantic nobles of the upper class dare to offend the young Crown Prince, the future master of their lives and fates?
They sprayed themselves with pheromone neutralizers—one bottle wasn’t enough, so they used several—desperate to ensure that not a trace of impurity reached his nose.
The neutralizers sold out overnight, and for a time the Empire’s social circles were filled with that sterile scent. Some, terrified of being mistaken for promiscuous types by the sharp-nosed Crown Prince, even painfully dismissed their numerous lovers.
It had all started as a willful demand from the ten-year-old Gu Heng, which ended up forcing the Empire’s high society into a period of forced celibacy. When the nobles and ministers finally couldn’t bear it anymore, they went to complain to the Emperor.
Only then did Gu Heng’s father learn what had been happening.
The Emperor didn’t see it as a big deal, but the sight of old, proud nobles looking utterly miserable—some nearly in tears—moved him to scold his son just to calm them down.
The young Gu Heng had pinched his nose and agreed to stop chasing those “stinking” nobles out of events, merely requiring them to wear a reasonable amount of neutralizer.
Even then, whenever he caught the scent of someone who had mixed with a dozen others, he would still tactfully keep his distance instead of driving them out.
By adulthood, Gu Heng no longer showed any open reaction to such matters.
Yet everyone in the Imperial elite knew: those palace servants and attendants who engaged in indecent affairs were always swiftly discovered and expelled.
So—his preferences had never changed.
Only when it came to Zuo Shihuan did Gu Heng seem to forget all his former fastidiousness, indulging in blatant double standards, convincing himself that Zuo Shihuan must be different—that there must be some special reason.
“A female Beta?”
Gu Heng frowned, instinctively refusing to believe it. There must be some explanation.
Zuo Shihuan forced a smile, eyes cold. “You think I can’t have anyone else but you? Don’t be so sure of yourself.”
“Don’t forget, I’m from the Zuo family. Even if you are just a Beta from the lower city districts, someone with nothing—trash like that, I could replace you with countless others… You’re just one of them.”
He spat the words viciously, his reddened eyes glaring at Gu Heng, pale lips twisting into a mocking smile.
But Gu Heng didn’t react. His dark eyes only grew heavier—with a trace of pain.
So bitter.
The air was filled with that bitter scent.
Thick and suffocating, like a cup of endless bitter wine. Compared to the crisp sweetness of apple cider, Zuo Shihuan’s pheromones now resembled apples left to rot in a cellar—shriveled, blackened, bitter, stripped of all shine, leaving only the taste of forgotten hatred.
If Zuo Shihuan’s cruel words were truly sincere, the scent wouldn’t have been this bitter.
“If that’s true… then why did that female Beta leave you?”
Gu Heng’s question made the light in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes shatter instantly. Even his hatred couldn’t hold together. His expression broke, scrambling to form a denial.
“So that story is real then?” Gu Heng pressed calmly.
Zuo Shihuan’s fists clenched so tight his nails nearly tore his palms. For the first time, he truly hated Gu Heng.
Why expose him? Why not let him keep even a shred of dignity?
Why force him to admit that it had all been a lie—that all he’d ever had was a mother who abandoned him, and a Beta who looked down on him?
The two Betas he cared about most had both rejected him.
It was like that old model mech toy he’d once longed for but couldn’t have. When he grew up and his guilty mother finally gave it to him, he couldn’t even bring himself to touch it.
Maybe…
He had never been meant to have it. Never meant to come close.
Zuo Shihuan gritted his teeth, forcing out through stubborn lips, “Why wouldn’t it be true? Back then I wasn’t even part of the Zuo family yet. She took all my money and ran. Now that I’ve become the powerful Zuo family Alpha, she regrets it—ha, she actually regrets it! Leaving you people was the best thing that ever happened to me!”
“Who is she?”
“None of your business!”
“When did she leave you?”
“…”
“She’s come back to find you now, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, so what?! Do you regret it too?” Zuo Shihuan sneered, eyes red.
“…Mm.”
“You don’t regret—what?”
Zuo Shihuan froze, staring wide-eyed, dazed and uncertain, wondering if he’d heard wrong.
Gu Heng’s dark eyes softened as he continued, “Yes, I regret it.”
He had never really known regret before—usually, it was others who regretted crossing him. But with Zuo Shihuan, for the first time, he tasted the bitter edge of remorse and pity.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been so ruthless, cutting off that unexpected bond so cleanly.
Even if this Federation Alpha was different—someone who, in his own way, had already begun to affect Gu Heng’s decisions and emotions.
“Can you tell me who that female Beta is? If she took your money, I can help you get it back.”
“How would you find her?” Zuo Shihuan frowned, puzzled.
Gu Heng thought silently that if he could track down Imperial traitors who’d been on the run for more than a decade, then finding one scam artist of a Beta would hardly be impossible.
But something still felt off.
From beginning to end, Zuo Shihuan’s reactions were too raw, too inexperienced—nothing like someone who’d truly been in a relationship. And who exactly was this Beta woman that even after returning to the powerful Zuo family, Zuo Shihuan still couldn’t let go?
He was certain Zuo Shihuan was hiding something.
“I have my ways,” Gu Heng said calmly. “If she cheated you, then she deserves to be thrown in jail. Don’t tell me you still care about her? You’re not still hung up on that female Beta, wanting to see her again, are you?”
Gu Heng’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
If Zuo Shihuan really refused his help, then he would stop interfering altogether—no matter how pitiful this Federation Alpha looked.
“See her again?”
Zuo Shihuan let out a dim, bitter laugh. “I never want to see her again in this life. To me, she’s nothing but a nightmare. I just… can’t let it go.”
So she could live like a normal mother after all.
He had once caught a glimpse of a photo of Yu Cha—his mother—with her new family. She looked so ordinary now: no luxurious jewelry, no thick makeup, no revealing dresses or heels. Just a simple woman, bare-faced, standing beside a tall, honest-looking man and a freckled Beta boy, all smiling brightly in domestic happiness.
So she could be a gentle, loving mother—to someone else’s child.
When Zuo Shihuan was that same age, he had been crawling through the filth of the slums, scraping to survive. And that Beta boy was growing up carefree under the protection of both parents.
If she had chosen to leave, then she should have disappeared forever. No matter what kind of life she lived, or what kind of man she married—he didn’t want to know.
But when he became an adult, Yu Cha had let him know everything, forcing him to see how wretched his own childhood had been by comparison.
The absurd part was that she had said she wanted to see him again, and with guilt in her eyes, tried to make up for the past by giving him an outdated mech model toy—something from eight centuries ago.
It was laughable. And cruelly ironic.
He didn’t want to see her—not ever—but the resentment wouldn’t fade. It festered like an open wound exposed to sunlight, showing him all his ugliness without ever healing.
“Go,” Zuo Shihuan said hoarsely. “I lied. There’s no female Beta. The only one who took my money and abandoned me in the slums was my mother…”
He lifted his pale face to meet Gu Heng’s deep black gaze, his voice steady but laced with sorrow. “I wasn’t always the polished young master of the Zuo family. My mother was a lot like you, actually. She was someone’s mistress—my father’s mistress. I was just an illegitimate Beta child she bore in secret. Once I lost my use, they both threw me away.”
“So even now, as the Zuo family’s young master, what real difference is there between you and me?”
Both of them were being kept.
His life might look luxurious compared to the slums—no more tasteless nutrient paste, no need to worry about money—but it came at the cost of freedom.
The only path left to him was to become the Zuo family’s heir. So he had to be the perfect Alpha: study the right field, marry a well-matched Omega, crush every rival among the family’s branches.
Bit by bit, he could see his own ugliness more clearly.
He didn’t want to give up the Zuo family’s power—but he couldn’t let go of Gu Heng either.
Just like how he thought he’d stopped caring about his mother, yet when he saw that picture of her happy family, all those buried emotions came flooding back at once.
Zuo Shihuan suddenly realized—he was greedy and selfish.
When he saw someone standing beside Gu Heng, all his calm, all his logic, shattered. He couldn’t lie to himself—he didn’t want anyone near Gu Heng.
Even if he was getting married tomorrow, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else being by Gu Heng’s side.
Even he knew how unreasonable that was.
So he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said harshly, “Before I change my mind, you should leave. From now on, stay away from me. If I see you again, then…”
“Then what?” Gu Heng raised an eyebrow.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes were red and wet as he snapped, “Then I’ll show you how despicable someone from the slums can be. If you dare flaunt someone else in front of me, I won’t be soft enough to let you go next time!”
If Gu Heng really had been a powerless Beta from a lower-district bar, such words might have frightened him.
But to the Imperial Crown Prince, Zuo Shihuan’s threat—spoken with such fierce sincerity—only made him seem like a small cat baring its teeth. To others he might look like a cold, dangerous wolf, but in Gu Heng’s eyes, it was different.
To be both threatened and adored—it was a novel experience for him.
He was never afraid that Zuo Shihuan could truly harm him. In fact, the Alpha was only hurting himself—clumsy and fierce.
It made Gu Heng feel a pang of pity… and an even crueler urge to tease him further.
He gazed into those light brown eyes, shining with both fury and moisture.
Gu Heng smiled faintly. “And what if I don’t want to?”
Zuo Shihuan’s fierce expression froze for a second, then he grew even angrier. “Do you have to push me that far—to make me lose my temper, drive me to the brink before you’ll listen?! If you dare bring any woman or man in front of me, I swear—I swear I’ll—”
But his neck flushed red, and he couldn’t think of a single way to threaten Gu Heng that could actually hurt him.
“Will you break my legs? Lock me up, then kill me?”
Gu Heng’s lips curled into a smile. Facing the red-faced Zuo Shihuan, he looked every bit the arrogant scoundrel unafraid of death—yet behind his eyes, a fleeting chill crossed his gaze.
“Someone once tried to do that to me,” he said softly. “But I escaped. And that person failed—completely.”
Zuo Shihuan froze, stunned by what he heard. He looked at Gu Heng’s inscrutable smile, and somehow, he felt that every word was true.
His anger slowly faded, and his expression softened into one of unease. He lowered his eyes and said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t do that to you. At most, I’d give you a beating.”
“Just a beating?” Gu Heng chuckled.
Zuo Shihuan looked at Gu Heng’s refined, striking face, and his heart twisted painfully.
He realized he probably couldn’t even bring himself to hit this arrogant b*stard. If anything, he’d only feel desolate seeing Gu Heng with someone else—and quietly avoid him instead.
But the man Gu Heng mentioned—the one who broke his leg, imprisoned him, tried to kill him—
A ruthless glint flashed through Zuo Shihuan’s eyes. On his handsome, elegant face, a sharp coldness emerged.
“While I still have feelings for you,” he said quietly, “you can come to me for help. Let me find that b*stard who hurt you—and make him regret ever being born.”
Gu Heng found his words oddly satisfying. With a faint smile in his dark eyes, he said, “Don’t worry. He won’t escape.”
Zuo Shihuan still looked uneasy. “So who is he?”
Gu Heng replied casually, “Oh, that’s my biological uncle. When I was young, he treated me well—better than my own father. I never imagined his kindness was all a lie. He wanted my father’s inheritance, and later he tried to kidnap me to threaten him.”
Zuo Shihuan’s expression darkened. “Did your father pay the ransom to save you?”
Gu Heng didn’t answer.
Zuo Shihuan didn’t notice and continued anxiously, “Even though you escaped—was your leg fully healed? Does it still hurt sometimes?”
Gu Heng looked at him with faint amusement. Just moments ago, Zuo Shihuan had been red-eyed and furious, ready to punch him—and now he was full of concern. How amusing.
For once, Gu Heng smiled sincerely. “It’s healed. No aftereffects.”
Zuo Shihuan’s expression softened. He didn’t know what else to say, but he assumed Gu Heng’s family downfall must have started from that kidnapping.
“I hope you catch your uncle soon,” he said, “and make him pay back everything he owes you. The ransom alone must have cost your family a fortune.”
“Mm.”
Gu Heng’s dark eyes remained calm, and he still smiled at Zuo Shihuan.
Only—things weren’t as Zuo Shihuan imagined.
His father had never paid any ransom. During negotiations with his imperial uncle, his father had simply abandoned him.
At that time, Gu Heng’s leg was already broken. He was locked up in a mine tunnel on an abandoned planet, starving for days, leaning weakly against the wall. Thanks to his sharp, superior hearing, he overheard their conversation through the guarded door.
“I will never agree to your unreasonable demands for the sake of one son,” his father said coldly.
His uncle shouted in disbelief, “Gu Fuyan, that’s your most important son—your officially recognized Imperial Crown Prince! His genetic potential as an Alpha is even greater than yours! You’d really send him to his death?!”
“Brother,” his father’s voice was sharp, merciless. “You’ve learned nothing all these years. Gu Fulian, you should understand—even if he is my acknowledged Crown Prince, he’s still just one of my children. And wasn’t it you who doted on him most? He’s the only son of the woman you once loved. If you want to talk about sending him to die—shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?”
“Compared to this trivial matter, the Empire’s coming war against the Zerg Queen is what truly matters. As for that child—deal with him as you wish. But remember this: by kidnapping the Empire’s Crown Prince, you’ve committed high treason. I hereby strip you of your royal title and declare you an enemy of the Empire.”
Then, his father unilaterally cut off communication.
Gu Fulian, the Imperial Uncle, erupted in fury. But it was useless—his brother was gone. In his rage, he took it out on the boy at his feet.
He kicked and beat Gu Heng viciously. The child curled up, protecting his head, his dark eyes remaining calm and icy throughout.
Inside, he felt no sadness.
Because he had known long ago that his father would never agree.
He had long understood what kind of man his father was—a war fanatic whose passion only ignited in battle against the Zerg. To him, reproduction was just another diversion, a way to produce more exceptional Alphas, to breed stronger generals to play in his endless war games.
Even Gu Heng’s mother had been nothing but spoils of war.
She had originally been his uncle’s fiancée—an Omega of minor noble birth, but with an astonishing 95% pheromone compatibility with his uncle. She was supposed to ascend overnight into the royal family.
The old butler once said his mother was the woman his uncle loved deeply. He took her everywhere, to banquets and gatherings, proudly showing her off to the aristocracy. They were a devoted pair.
When the wedding was set, the uncle brought his fiancée into the palace to introduce her to the Emperor, asking him to grant her a noble title to raise her standing before marriage.
To persuade his brother, he praised her lavishly—her gentleness, virtue, kindness, beauty—and mentioned their extraordinarily high pheromone match, saying they would surely bear a brilliant child together.
That, precisely, was what caught the Emperor’s attention.
Twenty years ago, Gu Heng’s father had already ascended to the throne as Emperor of the Empire—but he had yet to find a suitable Empress.
Even after searching through all the noble Omega families, he couldn’t find anyone whose pheromone compatibility with his own exceeded fifty percent.
Until then.
At that time, the Emperor’s twin brother—Gu Heng’s royal uncle—was enthusiastically praising his own fiancée, boasting that their pheromone compatibility was exceptionally high.
The brothers, being twins, looked identical, and even their pheromones were remarkably similar.
However, because the Emperor was the elder twin, and because his younger brother was born frail with slightly inferior genetic ranking, it was the elder who was chosen as the next Emperor.
As for the younger twin, the royal uncle, he was sent away from the palace early on, both to avoid confusion and to prevent others from exploiting their resemblance. In effect, he was a cast-off prince.
Even when he reached adulthood, the fief he was granted was in a remote territory far from the imperial capital, and he seldom returned to court.
Unlike his cold, battle-obsessed elder brother, the Emperor— Prince Gu Fulian, the younger twin—was a refined, gentle nobleman, graceful and courteous, far more approachable than the Emperor himself. Because of this, he was adored by many noble ladies. The woman who would later become Empress—Gu Heng’s mother—was one of them.
Had things proceeded as planned, she would have become Gu Fulian’s beloved wife.
But the Emperor began to wonder—since he and his twin shared nearly identical pheromones, could his compatibility with that same Omega woman be even higher?
Driven by curiosity, he secretly ordered a test.
The result: an astonishing 97% pheromone match—surpassing even his brother’s.
Convinced he had finally found a perfect Empress, the Emperor decided there was no reason to waste time searching further. What interested him most was conquest—expanding imperial borders. As for stealing his brother’s betrothed? It didn’t trouble him in the least. He could always “make it up” to his brother later by granting him another Omega.
Thus, when the younger prince was eagerly preparing to wed the woman he loved, what he received instead was an imperial edict— announcing that his beloved Omega would marry his elder brother, and become the Empress of the Empire.
Even the first time Gu Heng heard this story, he couldn’t help but admire his uncle’s restraint— for he endured this humiliation for nearly ten years.
For ten years, he watched the Omega he loved live by his brother’s side, bear his child, and smile as if nothing had happened.
Until Gu Heng turned seven—then his uncle finally broke.
But his uncle misjudged the situation.
Though Gu Heng was the Crown Prince, to his father he was merely one promising heir among many. The Emperor was still in his prime and could easily sire more Alpha sons with superior genes. So when Gu Fulian made excessive demands during the ransom negotiations, the Emperor rejected them without hesitation.
Enraged and humiliated, the royal uncle decided to destroy what he could not possess. He resolved to kill both his brother’s son—the child born of the woman he once loved—and the living proof of his greatest shame, by detonating explosives in the abandoned mine where the boy was imprisoned.
Yet the young Gu Heng had already anticipated being abandoned. He prepared in advance, taking advantage of the fact that no one would suspect a seven-year-old of being capable of escape. He secretly dug a narrow tunnel as a hiding place.
When the mine exploded, and his uncle and accomplices assumed he had perished, Gu Heng crawled out of the collapsing tunnels half-dead, and somehow made his way to a departing transport ship. Disguised as a common child, he smuggled himself aboard and eventually returned alive to the Imperial Palace.
His mother was stunned when she saw him—she had never expected her son to survive. Yet even facing her own flesh and blood, the Empress showed little warmth. Instead, she seemed fearful—afraid of Gu Heng himself, as if terrified of the Alpha who had once forced her into that gilded cage.
From birth, Gu Heng had never once been held by his mother, nor raised by her. Servants and tutors had cared for him in her stead. To him, the Empress was nothing more than an elegant ornament in the palace—someone he might glimpse a few times a year, but who remained a stranger despite their bond of blood.
In the eyes of the young Gu Heng, that “mother” was simply a frightened Omega he occasionally encountered in the royal gardens—one who would recoil the moment she saw him.
He grew used to the coldness of both his parents, and felt no particular sorrow about it. After all, he too was a cold person—like his father.
But that did not mean he could forgive the Emperor who had abandoned him so easily during the ransom negotiations.
So— when news later came that the Emperor had been gravely injured in battle against the Zerg Queen—his mecha malfunctioning mid-combat, drenched by the Queen’s dying venom—Gu Heng merely listened. The Emperor’s legs had to be amputated; mechanical limbs replaced them. The poison also rendered him sterile and drastically shortened his lifespan.
Yet the result was this: compared to the other flawed princes and princesses, Gu Heng’s position as Crown Prince became unshakable. He even began to wield part of the Emperor’s power in advance. The empire avoided the bloody civil strife that might have erupted otherwise.
When the wounded Emperor finally returned to recuperate and saw his once-abandoned son standing tall and unscathed before him, an unfamiliar sense of fear flickered in his eyes. Knowing his son’s intelligence and cold temperament, the Emperor quietly handed over authority and withdrew from public affairs—half-retired, half-defeated.
——————————————
Back to Zuo Shihuan.
When Gu Heng finished recalling the past, a glint of frost flashed in his dark eyes. He curved his lips into a smile. “No lingering aftereffects,” he said softly. “In fact, you could say it ended rather well—only one runaway uncle left to deal with.”
Zuo Shihuan frowned deeply.
How could that be considered a good ending? Gu Heng had been kidnapped by his own uncle, his family supposedly paid ransom, and then their fortunes collapsed. To survive, he’d come to the Federation’s main planet to work—reduced to a bartender in the seedy lower city districts, eventually giving up his pride to be kept by a wealthy widow Omega.
If that was a good ending, then Zuo Shihuan thought his own childhood had been downright blessed.
He took a steadying breath, his tone awkward but sincere. “Forget it. If you ever run into trouble… you can come to me.”
Gu Heng raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you were going to beat me up?”
Zuo Shihuan: “…”
He cursed his own soft-heartedness again.
Gu Heng, however, burst out laughing. His dark eyes gleamed as he looked at Zuo Shihuan and said, “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to change the way I’m living right now.”
For this Federation Alpha, getting too close to him was not a good thing.
Gu Heng, in a rare moment of kindness, decided to spare this Federation Alpha.
But to Zuo Shihuan, it was just another rejection. His eyelashes trembled as he lowered his eyes, and after a pause, he couldn’t help asking, “What if we started off as friends?”
Gu Heng froze, hesitation flickering across his expression.
The air grew heavy with awkward silence once again.
The light in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes slowly dimmed, and at last he gave up completely.
“I understand. From now on, don’t—”
“Wait!”
The words slipped out of Gu Heng’s mouth before he realized it, startling even himself. Regret flashed through him, but under Zuo Shihuan’s suddenly brightened gaze, the rest of what he wanted to say stuck in his throat.
