Employee Break Room.
The small, cramped space held only the two of them.
Zuo Shihuan sat uneasily, the flushed tips of his ears betraying his inner unrest. Yet he kept utterly silent, wearing a cold, distant mask as though pretending to be detached could conceal everything.
Reason pulled at him, telling him to keep away from danger.
For this noble, strikingly handsome Beta he had met for the first time—it was only a fleeting, accidental stir of the heart.
It meant nothing. It should mean nothing.
He had been reborn, torn free from the clutch of genetic illness, and stepped into high society where everything his eyes fell upon was lavish and refined.
Even if danger lurked beneath, he could now sit at an elegant dining table, eat luxurious natural food every day, and no longer slave away just to scrape together money for a cheap bottle of synthetic nutrient solution.
Fortune had, for once, shown him mercy, granting him a rare breathing space of calm. He thought things would end there.
But he was still a puppet played in the palm of fate.
And now—he had been moved by a Beta in a bar.
This could shatter his fragile peace. His family would never allow him to marry a Beta—let alone a male Beta.
From the time his father had led him into upper-class society, Zuo Shihuan had come to understand the weight an Alpha heir carried for the family.
It was prejudice, and it was the tilt of power.
All those who held power now were Alphas. To protect their status, they restricted Betas and Omegas from entering the fields monopolized by Alphas.
Like when Zuo Shihuan applied to the Federation University—though his scores had reached the threshold for the Mecha Pilot program, because he was a civilian Beta, he was instead shunted into the Mecha Maintenance program.
At first, Mecha Maintenance was indeed the major he had wanted all along. But the tuition was exorbitant, and the cost of equipment and materials for experiments a crushing burden no commoner could bear.
By contrast, Mecha Pilot carried equally high tuition.
Yet students admitted into the Mecha Pilot track were prized talents, snapped up by corporations and noble houses, their five years of tuition and living expenses all covered in advance. In short, getting in meant no longer worrying about money.
To save money, Zuo Shihuan had signed up for that program. But still short of the sky-high tuition, he had risked his life to fight underground matches.
And then—
Fate’s cruel joke: that year, he underwent secondary differentiation and became an Alpha.
A trace of irony flickered in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes.
No matter how he weighed the pros and cons, no matter how much he painted the best possible outcome, there was no perfect path that could allow him to win the family’s approval to marry a male Beta.
All the more so because his father had already reached a preliminary agreement with Yu Lizhu’s family—he would become engaged, even married, to her.
Even if it meant taking a wife he didn’t love—an Omega—it was still a hollow, false marriage contract.
And even if there came a second, a third engagement, he would only ever be allowed to marry another noble Omega.
Unless—
Unless he defied his father for the sake of a Beta. Unless he seized power from him, became master of the Zuo family, and left no one with the right to oppose him.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes darkened.
In that instant, he had already begun to form the outlines of a plan. If he failed, he would earn his father’s total loathing, stripped of his heir’s title, imprisoned, reduced to nothing more than breeding stock to sire the next generation of Alphas for the family.
But if he succeeded?
Light slowly rose in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes. A radiant smile, brighter than he had ever shown before, bloomed on his lips. A dimple at his cheek seemed sweet enough to overflow with honey.
As if the whole world had become new again—worth longing for, worth dreaming of.
Suddenly, he had so many things he wanted to do.
His heartbeat was no longer silent and numb; it blossomed as though it might burst into flowers.
Even the little figure representing reason shed its stiff, restrained suit, and ran off with the love-dazed little figure tossing heart-shaped petals and confetti, as if a joyful festival had begun—racing and leaping wildly through fields of flowers.
It was like his heartbeat was pounding wildly against his chest.
The frenzied thumping nearly noisy enough for his ears to protest.
But—
Was it really worth it, for a Beta?
“Hold on, it’s too messy here. I need to find the first-aid kit.”
Gu Heng knew nothing. Behind him, Zuo Shihuan’s mind was already racing all the way to a future of marrying him, and what he pictured was marrying him, the Empire’s crown prince. Truly daring to dream that far.
Gu Heng was still rummaging through the cabinet for the first-aid kit.
While his back was turned, Zuo Shihuan carefully, restrainedly stole glances at him. His hands, seemingly calm and resting on his knees, betrayed him underneath as his fingers twisted nervously. His pale-red lips pressed tight.
—Was it worth it?
—Compared to the stability right within reach, was it worth the risk to chase after a ridiculous, absurd love-at-first-sight?
Zuo Shihuan forced down his restless heart, weighing pros and cons with mature reason.
The joyful rhythm in his head screeched to a halt.
The little rational figure who’d been led astray suddenly stopped, put back on its stiff suit, and gave the giddy little figure scattering flower petals and ribbons a merciless beating. Then, stepping across its tear-streaked face, reason coldly returned to its track.
—Not worth it.
From any angle, he shouldn’t do this. It wasn’t in his interest, it was entirely irrational. At best, this was nothing more than a moment of impulse!
Given time, it would fade.
He’d forget it too, just a laughable interlude in his life.
When Gu Heng turned around—
Zuo Shihuan sat solemnly in the chair. His stern, distant face looked even paler, the rims of his eyes glaringly red. His light brown eyes, collected and withdrawn, seemed like a dark forest perpetually shrouded in fog, untouched by light.
Even when he reached out a pair of elegant white hands for Gu Heng to apply the medicine, his cold, defeated posture was laced with a kind of weary despair.
Gu Heng frowned: “…”
What on earth was this crybaby Alpha playing at now?
Still, not wanting to see a delicate Federation Alpha burst into tears again right in front of him, an eyesore—
Gu Heng lightened his movements: “Your wound’s a bit deep, still bleeding. I’ll spray a coagulant, then check if there’s any debris.”
Zuo Shihuan gave a faint “mm” in response, leaning back and turning his face away to avoid Gu Heng’s breath brushing too close. His trembling lashes cast shadows, his whole posture like he was rejecting and resisting him.
Gu Heng arched a brow slightly.
Seemed this pampered Federation Alpha disliked him.
Well, whatever. He’d never been well-liked by Alphas anyway. Maybe it was simply the clash of like against like. Even if he’d used special methods to mask his Alpha nature and disguise himself as a mere Beta, he still got pushed away.
On the other hand—
That wasn’t what Zuo Shihuan was thinking at all.
His attention was helplessly caught by the scorching heat of Gu Heng’s palm. His own body temperature rose, face burning, heart racing. If not for his hair covering them, the tips of his ears would have been flaming red, like smoke about to rise.
If Gu Heng kept this up, he wouldn’t be able to restrain his flushed, fevered face much longer.
After Gu Heng cleaned the wound and sprayed on the healing agent, the next step was to bandage it.
“Just give me the bandages, I can dress it myself. You can go.”
Zuo Shihuan suddenly pulled his hand back, sounding distant and dismissive.
Gu Heng gave a cold laugh: “With what, your half-crippled hand?”
Chided like that, Zuo Shihuan felt a twinge of grievance.
He pressed his lips tight, lifting his gaze earnestly to Gu Heng: “I can handle it myself. It’s just a small wound, no bones hurt.”
“You’ve got work to do, you can go. I’ll finish up and put the kit back. There’s no need for you to stay.”
Well, well. This delicate Federation Alpha was quick to burn bridges.
Gu Heng’s eyes chilled, his smile edged sharp with mockery: “Suit yourself. I’d just like to ask how exactly this half-crippled guest plans to bandage himself with one hand.”
Zuo Shihuan lowered his eyes. His cheeks puffed slightly, not just red with shame but tinged with anger.
And under Gu Heng’s cold, sarcastic gaze, he stubbornly reached into the kit, sprayed some disinfectant casually, then clumsily began wrapping with one hand. The bandages wound crooked and soon loosened.
Not willing to lose, Zuo Shihuan tugged out another length and wound it tighter, circling over and over until the wound was sealed off airtight. Finally, he tied a rather ugly bow to finish.
But he’d bound it too tightly—blood flow cut off, his fingernails showed a pitiful pale.
By the end, his forehead was slick with sweat, his lips even paler, his whole figure trembling.
And those stubborn, angry eyes met Gu Heng’s cold ones.
A silent standoff, as if saying: See, I don’t need you.
Zuo Shihuan pushed up to leave.
But Gu Heng blocked him, looming with his cold black eyes, and unceremoniously seized his hand.
Blood was already seeping through the fresh bandages.
Gu Heng let out a sharp, mirthless laugh: “So this is what you call ‘taken care of’?”
Zuo Shihuan forced his face calm, pretending to ignore both the burning heat of Gu Heng’s grip and the wild thumping in his chest.
“So what? We don’t even know each other. Whatever happens to me is none of your concern. I still have a friend waiting outside—I’ll be leaving first.”
Saying that, he tried to step past Gu Heng, determined to go.
And indeed, as Zuo Shihuan said, it wasn’t Gu Heng’s business.
But Gu Heng wasn’t the type to meddle—nor was he the type to let someone use him up and then walk away.
The moment Zuo Shihuan moved, Gu Heng’s arm clamped around his waist, yanking him back down onto the chair with a thud. The poor chair gave a creaking protest.
The burning heat of his palm slid from waist to wrist, both hands clamping down and yanking upward. Gu Heng’s cold, lofty gaze bore down as he pressed the completely unguarded Zuo Shihuan against the table. The chair toppled sideways, and the first-aid kit on the table spilled bottles all over.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes flew wide in panic, the rims flushed red: “What are you doing? Let me go!”
He struggled to break free from Gu Heng’s hold, but the more he moved, the weaker he became. This ill-tempered Beta’s strength was terrifying—his wrists reddened from the grip, yet he couldn’t pry apart those iron hands.
“Not doing anything.”
Gu Heng’s black eyes arced with a hint of malicious delight, his thin lips glinting cold.
Looking at Zuo Shihuan glaring up at him, pitiful yet furious, his neck arched to reveal a vulnerable Adam’s apple, the originally cool face flushed with vivid shame and anger. A faintly raised black collar revealed a glimpse of snow-pale waist—like a tamed swan.
At last, Gu Heng felt a measure of satisfaction. Finally, this delicate, unruly prey was obedient for a moment.
He leaned down. With nowhere to escape, Zuo Shihuan squeezed his eyes shut, lashes trembling. At his reddened ears came a low, magnetic voice, tinged with cruel amusement: “As I said from the start—just giving you medicine.”
Zuo Shihuan’s heart skipped a beat, his blush spreading from ears to cheeks. That man was so overbearing, so vile—yet hopelessly, unbearably stirring his heart, making his mind reel, his body start to respond.
Flustered, for the first time real fear rose in him. As the heat and restlessness spread, he dared not imagine what would happen if this hateful Beta discovered it.
Mockery, ridicule, humiliation—
But never affection. Only scorn, that he was some degenerate Alpha who went into heat anywhere, anytime.
Half-lidded eyes shadowed, Zuo Shihuan bit hard at his lips: “No… you, let me go!”
He twisted his waist, trying to cover himself with the gray coat, his only free legs kicking pitifully in an attempt to escape under Gu Heng’s weight. In his panic, he lashed out with a foot.
But despair hit as Gu Heng caught his ankle, slowly lifting it.
He’ll find out!
In a rush of desperation, Zuo Shihuan butted his head forward.
“Bang!!”
A sharp, brutal crack.
Caught off guard, Gu Heng took the blow to his brow bone, his temple ringing. Before he could scowl, he saw Zuo Shihuan too, his forehead red, tears filling those stubborn eyes, silently sobbing. Even hurt, he only bit his lip harder, blood beading between his teeth.
For the first time in his life, Gu Heng felt he had gone too far. He released him, stepped back a few paces, turning aside, an apologetic flicker in his black eyes.
“Sorry. I overdid it.”
Zuo Shihuan hung his head, dazed, wiping away the humiliating tears. He pulled his gray coat tight over his front, fear still lingering, mixed with a surge of smoldering indignation he could barely contain.
He lowered his eyes, stepping down from the table. “You just wanted to toy with me too, didn’t you.”
Gu Heng froze: “What?”
Zuo Shihuan suddenly exploded, grabbing Gu Heng’s collar with both hands. His reddened eyes locked stubbornly onto those noble, aloof black ones that let no one in. His pale lips pressed tight against the red.
“Toy with me. Isn’t this the Black Goat club? So many people come here for pleasure, for games. Aren’t you an employee here? Then play.”
Zuo Shihuan rose on tiptoe, trying to force a kiss.
Gu Heng’s pupils dilated. Yet, inexplicably, he didn’t push him away. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was those stubborn eyes glittering with tears, so bright he couldn’t look away. His hand even slid to Zuo Shihuan’s lithe waist.
But at the final moment, when lips nearly touched—
Zuo Shihuan stopped, turning his light-brown eyes aside. No longer bright, they dulled into shadow. His lips curled with a frivolous, mocking smile.
“Just playing. Like you said. No responsibility.”
Gu Heng’s expression shifted sharply, his gaze piercing Zuo Shihuan. In an instant, he wrenched coldly free of his grip. “Then forgive me, guest. Staff don’t provide that service. Go find someone else.”
Zuo Shihuan bowed his head: “No.”
Gu Heng hardened his tone: “No? That’s not—”
“I like you.”
Gu Heng’s head snapped toward him. Staring at the crown of his bowed head, the few cowlicks of hair, for the first time he wondered if his S-class Alpha hearing had failed him.
“…What did you just say?”
Zuo Shihuan’s lips quirked faintly. He yanked Gu Heng’s collar again, forcing him down, lifting his warm, luminous brown eyes, whispering softly by his ear: “Want to know what I said, I like you…”
Gu Heng’s expression grew tangled, staring in disbelief. He suspected Zuo Shihuan was toying with him—but instinct told him otherwise.
Zuo Shihuan’s gaze didn’t waver, eyes burning bright with possessiveness: “Follow me. I like playing with you.”
Gu Heng’s heart churned, his face shadowed with conflicted complexity.
The meaning was clear. Like the other patrons of the Black Goat club who lusted after his face and body, wanting to keep him, cage him as a pampered pet.
And every time, Gu Heng had only felt disgust and revulsion.
If not for the need to stay undercover in Federation territory, those people would already be in the hospital—or locked away for insulting the Empire’s royal blood.
Yet Zuo Shihuan’s gaze, brimming with adult hunger and possessiveness, didn’t stir revulsion at all. Instead, it set Gu Heng thinking, as if behind the desire there was something deeper, more tormented.
Before he could untangle it, a warm touch pressed against his chilled lips.
“Do you want to?”
Zuo Shihuan lifted his gaze and asked.
Gu Heng came back to his senses, a shadow passing through his eyes. His hand brushed over Zuo Shihuan’s cheek, his fingertips rubbing against that delicate, tender skin, feeling the warmth and breath of someone leaning ever closer.
—It was nothing more than playing.
“I don’t want to. But I can play.”
Gu Heng’s gaze was cold. He seized the black hair at the back of Zuo Shihuan’s head, his fingertips pressing against his cheek, and kissed him as if nothing stirred in him—yet secretly punishing him by biting down on those soft, warm lips.
Gradually, the kiss deepened, twining, tasting.
At some point, there spread between their lips a faint, tempting fragrance of cider—sweet, light, tinged with honey—so intoxicating it made Gu Heng’s mind reel, rich and mellow like ripened honeyed apple wine.
That honey-apple liquor flowed in their lips and teeth with a heady intimacy, like a tiny hook tugging at the tip of his heart, luring him into indulgence, into ruin.
Gu Heng’s gaze suddenly changed.
Those once noble, aloof black eyes, in the instant of being ensnared, turned into those of a young beast caught in desire.
His kissing became wild, rough.
A flash of red streaked through his dark eyes as pheromones pulled him toward losing control. He kissed Zuo Shihuan with endless hunger, demanding more of that sweet scent, greedily seeking, lips and tongue fevered with heat.
Entwined in frenzy, demanding more, his tongue scorching hot.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes grew unfocused, starved of air. Breath stolen away, his tongue numbed and aching from the biting and sucking, he clawed at Gu Heng’s back in desperation for oxygen, chest heaving violently, his face flushed deep crimson.
Yet the man before him, like a beast who had tasted something sweet, showed no sign of letting him go.
Zuo Shihuan struggled to escape, shredding Gu Heng’s clothes and even skin with his nails, but Gu Heng only forced him harder against the wall, raising one of his legs, while the other hand pressed against his vulnerable gland, still kissing him with a frenzied, consuming force.
In his hazy consciousness—
Zuo Shihuan thought he smelled a heart-piercing scent of strong liquor. His lips were broken open by a sharp fang.
That rich, domineering scent was like whiskey laced with ice and mint—an Alpha’s pheromones, potent and overbearing, burning in his head like high-proof spirits, leaving him dizzy, nearly drunk, on the verge of losing consciousness.
The worst was Gu Heng’s burning, reckless hands, already roaming from his waist to his chest.
Zuo Shihuan, shamed and furious, tried to push him away, but weak as if drunk, he could only let Gu Heng act as he pleased.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.
After several knocks, the door slowly opened.
Someone was coming in!
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes widened in panic. He tried to warn Gu Heng, but the beast lost in desire took it as invitation, his fingers going even further.
Zuo Shihuan froze, cheeks burning red. Rage flaring, he bit hard at the corner of Gu Heng’s mouth, until Gu Heng hissed in pain and bled, finally loosening his grip. Zuo Shihuan shoved him away with all his strength.
Gu Heng’s dark eyes, thick with desire, locked on him dangerously, like a restless beast in heat, unsated and itching to strike again.
Zuo Shihuan gritted his teeth, warning: “Someone’s coming in—control yourself!”
Gu Heng only clicked his tongue coldly, his voice hoarse with suppressed want: “Then I’ll throw them out, close the door, and continue.”
Zuo Shihuan’s waist went weak, his pupils dilating.
He could hardly believe it—Gu Heng could be so shameless, so brazen. This was a public place! No, he had to escape at once.
Gu Heng rose coldly, irritation on his face as he turned to the intruder.
Expressionless as ever, that same world-weary look. The one who had entered was none other than Ji Shenwen, who had followed Gu Heng into the Federation to carry out their undercover mission.
Ji Shenwen’s eyes went wide with horror, unable to believe the scene before him.
“Your Highness?”
