“Gu Heng! Come save me!!!”
Who was Gu Heng?
Zuo Shihuan had one hand gripping Ji Shenwen’s neck, while Yu Lizhu held onto his arm from the other side. Pinned and unable to move, Ji Shenwen looked like a prisoner.
The drunk crowd around them thought it was some kind of bar performance, whistling and jeering, egging them on to do something even more outrageous to the poor bartender.
The atmosphere was heating up—just shy of turning into an R-rated midnight stage play.
Some more sober patrons, however, sensed something was off. Thinking the bartender was being targeted by enemies, they went to fetch the bar manager.
Ji Shenwen felt like a respectable househusband kidnapped by a female bandit. Worse, the Alpha behind him looked lean but was absurdly strong, always keeping guard against his escape.
Since graduating from the Empire’s First Military Academy, Ji Shenwen had never felt so humiliated and powerless. His eyes wide, he grit his teeth at Yu Lizhu: “You’ll regret this!”
Yu Lizhu’s heart stung—after all, to be spoken to so coldly by the one she liked… But then she glanced at Zuo Shihuan behind her, recalling her fiancé’s warnings.
She had been sad for a long time already. Zuo Shihuan understood her endurance and self-sacrifice—but did Ji Shenwen?
He only ever avoided her. How could he know that she, too, was a prideful Omega, who could feel just as wronged and hurt?
Yu Lizhu’s gaze turned resolute. She huffed: “Too late. I already gave you one chance to walk away. From now on, you can keep rejecting me, but I won’t allow you to avoid me!”
A forced melon isn’t sweet—but if she didn’t force it, she knew she’d regret it forever!
Ji Shenwen’s furious eyes bulged, his whole body puffed up like a blowfish about to explode. But faced with Yu Lizhu’s red eyes and stubborn determination, he finally let out a long sigh.
He gave in.
Ji Shenwen conceded willingly: “Fine. Tell your friend to let me go. I won’t run anymore.”
Yu Lizhu’s eyes lit up: “Really?”
No more dodging my feelings? No more avoiding my gaze?
Yu Lizhu had always felt that behind Ji Shenwen’s smiling face, there lingered a shadow of gloom, a hidden worry she could never understand.
This time, Ji Shenwen didn’t smile. His expression was rare in its solemnity: “Really. As long as you won’t regret it.”
Yu Lizhu leaned in and kissed him, her eyes sparkling: “How could I ever regret it?”
Ji Shenwen froze at the kiss, his eyes softening instinctively, but then a faint shadow of darkness flickered through them.
—She would definitely regret it.
“…”
“Ji Shenwen, is this why you called me here?”
A cold, commanding young man’s voice rang out.
From the crowd stepped Gu Heng, clad in a cheap bar bouncer’s uniform—black vest over white shirt—yet carrying the bearing of an arrogant, noble duke.
That icy voice alone struck more terror into Ji Shenwen than any threat.
He saw.
In an instant, Ji Shenwen’s scalp went numb, his pupils trembling.
If not for being in a Federation bar, a public place, he would already be kneeling and begging the Crown Prince for mercy.
He hadn’t meant it.
He hadn’t betrayed the Empire—kissing a Federation girl didn’t mean…
Gu Heng’s gaze was cold, scrutinizing: “Ji Shenwen, do you have anything to explain?”
Ji Shenwen’s face was ashen.
Gu Heng’s gaze swept over Yu Lizhu, his lofty and languid black eyes lifting slightly at the corners, carrying a hint of inexplicable mockery.
“So this is the Omega young lady who’s been clinging to you. Only a few months, and Ji Shenwen, you’ve already developed real feelings.”
Ji Shenwen’s lips trembled. He wanted to open his mouth and say no, that he was just…
But under those cold and arrogant eyes of the Crown Prince—eyes that seemed to see straight through human hearts—his excuses felt laid bare, nothing but feeble sophistry laced with irony and chill.
Forget it.
Ji Shenwen knew he couldn’t argue.
If he truly felt nothing for Yu Lizhu, perhaps he could have continued, calm and unflinching, to flirt with her, seizing the chance to gather intelligence on her family—just as he had done with other Federals.
But in these past days, again and again, he had pushed Yu Lizhu away. That was born not of strategy, but of an unspeakable sentiment, of wanting to spare her, to protect her.
No explanation would change that.
All he could hope was that Gu Heng, for the sake of their many years together, would not lay his guilt upon his family.
Gu Heng lowered his gaze, delivering his verdict: “You resign and go home.”
—Return to the Empire, to face punishment.
The blade of the execution block had finally fallen; all traitors of the Empire met their end under the judgment of glory.
Even if Ji Shenwen had not yet committed any act of treachery, he had crossed the gravest taboo: he had fallen for a Federation Omega.
The seed of betrayal had sprouted.
No one could guarantee that he would not, one day, sacrifice the Empire’s interests for an enemy Omega.
Ji Shenwen bowed his head willingly. “Yes.”
At the side, Yu Lizhu was utterly confused. Why was Ji Shenwen obeying that hateful colleague so docilely, as though they weren’t equals but superior and subordinate?
And she couldn’t understand—wasn’t it just a kiss with Ji Shenwen? Did that somehow violate the bar’s rules, that he now had to be forced to resign?
Yu Lizhu shielded Ji Shenwen, glaring at him angrily: “What right do you have?! You’re not his boss. What qualification do you have to force him to resign? Don’t listen to him—I’ll find the bar manager!”
Ji Shenwen’s face carried bitterness as he pulled Yu Lizhu back. “It’s not like that. Truth is, I’d already planned to quit. My family needs me, and sooner or later I’d have to return.”
Yu Lizhu turned to him, puzzled at his strange expression. “Is that true? Why leave so soon?”
Ji Shenwen’s eyes were dim. He forced a smile, patching the lie: “It’s true. I’ve stayed on the Federal homeworld long enough—my family must miss me.”
Yu Lizhu’s worry deepened. “You’ll come back soon, right?”
Ji Shenwen gave a bitter smile. “I don’t know.”
Back in the Empire—if his family discovered that, because of a Federation Omega, he had disrupted the Crown Prince’s plans—he would suffer the harshest punishment, perhaps even be cast out of the family. And then he could forget ever setting foot in the Federation again.
***
Elsewhere.
Zuo Shihuan was lost.
Long before, when the little couple were whispering their confessions, he had quietly slipped away.
And since he had no ride back, he wandered deeper into the Black Goat Clubhouse. At the center stood an elevator, its screen broadcasting replays of the underground fighting pit on level B2.
Guests waiting for the elevator pointed at the bloody brawls, exclaiming at which star fighter was on screen.
Zuo Shihuan watched the staged spectacle, his pale brown eyes reflected in the gray-toned light, utterly calm.
He remembered how he, too, had once fought in underground matches for money.
Back then, it was to pay tuition, to raise cash fast. He could fix appliances and small-to-mid robots to earn a little, but one of his contracts had defaulted on payment, leaving him with only two options: borrow from loan sharks—or fight in the pit.
He chose the latter.
At the center of the elevator lobby, two bystanders chatted: “Hanserlton the Iron Bull’s last fight against Devil Henry—what a match!”
“I think the beast fights were even crazier. Gregory going solo against a black bear from Blue Star’s primeval forest—that one was brutal and bloody!”
The elevator numbers climbed higher.
“Speaking of which, there’s one match I’ll never forget.”
“Which one?”
“Hahaha, that time when two fighters kept brawling off the ring, right into the audience, until the Black Goat’s enforcers had to break them up—that guy, Gu Heng.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember! That enforcer fought two underground boxers at once and beat them both down—crowd went wild! Better than the official match!”
“Dingdong. Elevator has arrived.”
The two men stepped inside. Seeing Zuo Shihuan still standing at the doors without entering, they only found it odd, then resumed talking about their bets for tonight’s fighters.
On the screen, no matter how vivid the colors, they could not penetrate the black-and-white world of his eyes.
Zuo Shihuan withdrew his gaze indifferently.
Yet in his heart, he felt a trace of envy for their noisy excitement.
And he couldn’t help but recall Yu Lizhu’s earlier question: “Have you ever met someone you like?”
He hadn’t dared think deeply and had given a flat denial.
But thinking back now—his whole life, he had neither liked anyone, nor been liked by anyone. Piece by piece, all color had been stripped away, leaving only black and white.
Still, he went on numbly, day after day, just to survive. When the spirit goes numb, even physical pain, hunger, sickness don’t seem so hard to endure.
And yet—
He still couldn’t deny, in the depths of his heart, a trace of envy for those vivid, living people outside. Why were their eyes, expressions, gestures always so bright and alive?
While he remained always rooted in place, watching like a puppet.
The numbers on the elevator display lit up one by one again.
At some point, a man had come to stand beside him — seemingly tall.
Zuo Shihuan kept his head lowered and didn’t notice.
“Dingdong— the elevator has arrived.”
The doors slowly opened. The man beside him stepped in. There came the sound of buttons being pressed, yet the doors still didn’t close.
A cool, magnetic voice spoke.
“Are you getting in or not?”
Zuo Shihuan had just opened his mouth to say no when he lifted his gaze— and froze.
The moment his eyes met Gu Heng in the center of the elevator, the black-and-white world around him seemed to burst into color.
Everything beyond the doorway dimmed to shadow. Only under the elevator’s yellow light did Gu Heng appear alive with color — sharp dark brows, coldly aristocratic black eyes, and lips as vivid as scarlet.
The cheap bar uniform looked utterly different on him.
A black waistcoat with a golden ram’s head badge on the chest, a thin white shirt underneath.
Yet on this unfamiliar, noble, and strikingly handsome man, it evoked the image of a guest walking through a lavish palace banquet — dressed in a tailored black suit that outlined a lean, firm waist, carrying an air of restrained arrogance and perfect composure. The golden badge on his chest seemed to transform into a haughty golden rose.
Proud, and dangerous.
It was as if a vivid, perilous rose had bloomed in Zuo Shihuan’s long colorless world — a rose perched upon a distant cliff.
Just one glance, and he lost his soul, drawn uncontrollably toward the edge, wanting to reach out and touch that proud, unattainable rose.
But the next second—
His gaze met those cold, deep-sea black eyes.
It was as though he’d stepped into empty air, falling from the cliff into an icy ocean.
Instinct drove him to flail and struggle, to swim back to the safety of solid ground— dragging his soaked, bedraggled self away from the danger, away from that frigid sea and the beautiful, perilous rose upon the cliff.
Back to the steady, familiar ground.
He came to his senses.
Zuo Shihuan frowned, breathing as if in pain, and muttered a muffled refusal: “No need, I’m not taking the elevator.”
He took a few steps back— as if escaping from a wild beast.
He didn’t hear the startled cry behind him.
His foot caught on something; he lost balance. As his body pitched forward, his dazed eyes remained fixed on those cold, indifferent black eyes inside the elevator.
It was as if he’d fallen back into that fantasy.
He watched the rose upon the cliff gaze coolly as he plunged into the sea— unmoved, its proud, exquisite petals unruffled.
Even if he were to drown and suffocate, he would still look up at it, yearning as if for air itself.
In the final moment before sinking, he still stared, entranced, at the blurred crimson reflection rippling in the water — without ever receiving the slightest trace of pity.
Crash—
A cart loaded with liquor toppled, bottles shattering and colorful liquid spilling everywhere.
Soaked in alcohol, Zuo Shihuan sat among the shards, his unfocused eyes catching a faint glimmer of light that quickly faded.
A worker hurried over, apologizing, “I’m so sorry, sir! I didn’t see you there— are you hurt?”
He glanced in distress at the scattered bottles, his face full of worry.
The manager happened to walk by, immediately scolding the worker: “What’s wrong with you? How could you do something like this? If you’ve hurt a guest, how will you compensate?”
Then, noticing Zuo Shihuan’s refined clothes and the expensive watch on his wrist, the manager’s tone flipped instantly to one of polite apology.
“I’m so sorry, sir, it was our staff’s mistake. Let me arrange for someone to take you to the hospital.”
Zuo Shihuan regained his composure. Seeing the mess and the staff bowing repeatedly, a shadow passed through his eyes.
“It wasn’t his fault,” he said quietly. “I bumped into him. How much are the drinks? I’ll pay for them.”
He handed over a black card.
The manager’s eyes lit up, and he smiled obsequiously. “Oh, that’s really too kind, sir. Thank you for your understanding. I’ll make sure the staff are more careful next time. Still, you’re bleeding — please, let me have someone help you treat your wound.”
He turned toward Gu Heng, who still hadn’t left.
Something about Gu Heng made the manager’s heart skip — but remembering that this tall Beta was technically his superior, and knowing the guest seemed to have no background, he forced himself to call out, “Hey, Gu Heng! Hurry up and help the guest with his injury!”
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes flickered, and he tried to get up in agitation — but in his haste, his hand pressed against a sharp shard of glass. Blood welled instantly, and he frowned from the sting.
Still, he said with quiet endurance, “No need to trouble him. I can handle it myself.”
The manager protested, “Sir, you’re bleeding, that won’t do. Let our staff take care of it. Gu Heng! What are you waiting for?”
To everyone’s surprise, the usually aloof and indifferent Gu Heng actually stepped forward.
He extended a hand toward Zuo Shihuan, his expression cold.
“Sir, let’s go.”
There was no concern in his tone, no attempt to help him up — just a perfunctory gesture, as though completing a task.
Zuo Shihuan shut his eyes in frustration, his cheeks tinged red.
The thundering of his own heartbeat told him a truth he didn’t want to face.
—He seemed to have fallen in love with a man at first sight.
A man who was a stranger. A Beta of unknown background. A man whose only merits were his striking, distant beauty— cold, not gentle, clad in a cheap bar uniform.
Not even an Omega.
None of it fit the life Zuo Shihuan had planned.
He only ever wanted a calm, uneventful life: to marry an emotionless Omega wife, have a few well-behaved children, and live out his days in quiet mediocrity.
Not— to fall in love with a man.
In a bar.
At such an absurd moment.
Suddenly, he had fallen in love at first sight with a man he had never even met before!
A trace of uncontrollable tears welled up in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes. He raised his hand to press against Gu Heng’s burning palm.
Even so—
If he only hooked his fingers slightly, he still wanted to go over.
Gu Heng was observant; with one glance he saw the moisture in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes, reddened and pitiful. His cold expression eased a little as he curved his lips in a smile. “An Alpha can be this much of a crybaby too?”
Zuo Shihuan lowered his gaze, and only the flutter of his lashes revealed the waves and shy timidity inside him.
A spark of interest rose in Gu Heng’s heart. “Excuse my offense.”
Zuo Shihuan was confused. “?”
The next second, he was scooped up around the waist and fell into Gu Heng’s strong, unyielding embrace.
Zuo Shihuan froze, eyes wide. When he came back to his senses, he realized—an Alpha man like him was being carried princess-style in front of everyone. Shame flushed through him in an instant.
“Put me down, I can walk on my own.”
He struggled to get free, his usually calm, steady face betraying a rare blush of embarrassment, making him look both proper and pitiful.
Gu Heng didn’t like prey struggling in his arms. He raised a dangerous smile. “Guest, are you sure you want to walk by yourself?”
Zuo Shihuan: “I’m sure, I can walk.”
Gu Heng: “All right then, I’ll put you down immediately.”
Before Zuo Shihuan could even sigh in relief, the arms holding him suddenly let go without warning. Terrified, he instantly clutched at the closest thing to him.
Rip!
The sound of a uniform tearing rang out. Zuo Shihuan’s eyes widened—only to fall once again into those all-too-familiar, wicked arms.
Gu Heng caught him again, holding tight the man in his arms whose face had turned pale from fright. In his proud, aristocratic black eyes shimmered a smile of malicious delight.
“Still want to go down?”
Zuo Shihuan gave no reply, burying his head against Gu Heng’s chest.
