AMTPA Chapter 25

Ji Chenxi walked away, leaving behind a trail of his pheromones. Even though he had just done something that could have made Chi Zhuo hate him to pieces, the lingering pheromones seemed to cling to him, twisting and teasing around him like they had a life of their own.

 

The normally aggressive, overpowering scent that should have screamed dominance now swirled around him with a hint of grievance—just enough that Ji Chenxi could read a trace of complaint in it.

 

A while ago, Ji Chenxi had been stingy with his pheromones, barely willing to release even a trace. But this time, he took the initiative, letting a bit of it slip free.

 

Instantly, the lethargic tequila scent clinging to him perked up, merging with the faint rose aroma, wrapping around him in a tender dance before settling into a familiar, sweet, almost like dessert wine.

 

Ji Chenxi chuckled quietly. He didn’t rush back. Instead, he lingered outside, letting the scent drift through the air.

 

He was oddly curious about the way the pheromones had blended. What on earth had Chi Zhuo done to him? Between alphas, pheromones either suppress or repel each other—how could they fuse like this?

 

If only he had the right tools nearby, he’d have wanted to extract some for research. Just a little, to study it properly.

 

The scent didn’t fade quickly. By now, Ji Chenxi suspected that it wasn’t just his clothes carrying it—his hair, too, clung to the other person’s aroma.

 

As his tongue brushed over the teeth marks, Ji Chenxi was certain: the lingering tequila scent on the tips of his teeth was much gentler than when it had first marked him.

 

Halfway along, the scent on his body showed no sign of fading. If anything, it was growing sweeter, richer.

 

He slightly regretted not bringing a scent remover. With one spray, he could have gone back and continued sipping his wine in peace.

 

Or maybe he should’ve taken that unfinished bottle of wine with him. But marking someone with one flavor of liquor and then walking off with another right in front of them? That would’ve been a bit too much, even for him.

 

The night wind cooled the heat in him, and Ji Chenxi chuckled again.

 

He casually found a hidden corner, sat on a wooden chair, and pretended to nap. He had planned to wait until the crowd dispersed before leaving, but unexpectedly, he sensed someone passing by.

 

Ji Chenxi opened his eyes and stepped in front of someone heading in a certain direction.

 

“Anran,” he greeted with a smile. “What a coincidence!”

 

It was only then that Bai Anran noticed the silver-haired alpha sitting on the chair. He froze for a moment at the sight of that light, cheerful smile, then replied politely, his tone soft and courteous: “Your Highness, good day.”

 

Ji Chenxi’s eyes lowered slightly, and he gave a faint, airy acknowledgment.

 

Bai Anran looked at the silver-haired youth again, who seemed even more striking under the moonlight than many omegas. He was about to excuse himself, but before he could continue walking, Ji Chenxi, who had no intention of starting a conversation, called out to him.

 

“Anran, don’t go that way.”

 

Bai Anran glanced in the direction Ji Chenxi indicated, didn’t ask why, and simply nodded in agreement.

 

The last time they met had been awkward enough—Ji Chenxi had forced himself into the conversation just to break up Bai Anran’s seemingly fated encounter with Chi Zhuo. Now, seeing each other again brought back that same feeling: wanting to say something but not knowing what.

 

Between them, they were, in truth, familiar strangers.

 

Having stopped Bai Anran from approaching Chi Zhuo during his susceptibility period, Ji Chenxi had expected him to take another path. But unexpectedly, Bai Anran chose to strike up a conversation.

 

“Your Highness, you seem to be in a rather good mood today.”

 

Ji Chenxi’s eyes curved slightly as he looked up at him. “Am I usually in a bad mood?”

 

“Not exactly,” Bai Anran said with a faint smile, softening the chill that lingered around him. “It’s just that your smiles in the past were always so faint.”

 

A smile that’s too faint can mean different things to different people.

 

For someone like Bai Anran, a faint smile was enough to show that Ji Chenxi’s mood was genuinely good. But for Ji Chenxi, it wasn’t that simple to interpret.

 

He neither confirmed nor denied it, changing the subject instead. “It seems like you have something you want to tell me.”

 

“You really can’t escape Your Highness’s sharp eyes,” Bai Anran said with a small smile. “Yes, there’s something I wanted to say.”

 

Ji Chenxi tilted his head slightly and gestured with his chin. “Sit.”

 

Bai Anran didn’t hesitate. He sat down beside Ji Chenxi, crisp and straightforward.

 

The bench was long, and they both chose to sit at the edges, leaving about a meter of space between them.

 

“Go ahead. Tell me,” Ji Chenxi prompted.

 

“I actually did something to offend Your Highness before this,” Bai Anran admitted.

 

“Hmm?” Ji Chenxi’s tone rose slightly at the end, signaling his curiosity.

 

“It’s about the candidate for the crown prince’s engagement… I was actually in the running.”

 

Bai Anran dropped that bomb suddenly, and Ji Chenxi was genuinely taken aback. But it wasn’t too hard to make sense of it. After all, for now, his older brother would want someone whose background could cover up the matter, ideally from one of the Four Great Legions or one of the Four Great Noble Families.

 

Among the Four Great Legions, one belonged to their second elder sister’s maternal family, another’s commander’s only son was extremely close to their second elder sister—their relationship was nearly public. Ji Anze’s best choice, then, would be among the remaining two legions, which didn’t leave much room for hesitation.

 

Bai Anran had grown up alongside Ji Chenxi, partly because their mothers were close friends, but also because Bai Anran’s grandfather was a war god and now the commander of the Third Legion. Bai Anran himself was a suitably aged S-rank omega.

 

Now, with Ji Anze choosing a noble girl from the Four Great Families, it seemed he had hit a dead end with Bai Anran.

 

Ji Chenxi’s mind turned quickly, piecing together a rough picture. His expression was hard to read. “You used me as a shield?”

 

Bai Anran nodded. He and Ji Chenxi had a verbal engagement. They weren’t officially betrothed, but many already treated them as fiances. That, in turn, allowed Bai Anran to successfully use Ji Chenxi as a buffer against this arranged engagement.

 

“I’m truly sorry about this. Back then, time was tight, and my grandfather was busy with military affairs. I couldn’t contact him immediately. As for my father—you know how he feels about me being an omega—he’s never been satisfied. When the empire’s crown prince extended the engagement invitation, he was tempted, and I had no choice but to take drastic measures.”

 

Ji Chenxi’s earlier light mood faded considerably. “You used me as a shield. If we end up together in the future, that’s one thing. But if we both find other partners, do you think my brother would let you off easily? Deceiving the royal family—that’s a serious matter.”

 

“That’s why I originally came to discuss the engagement with Your Highness,” Bai Anran explained. “We’ve only just come of age. There’s time to negotiate for years. If Your Highness ever finds someone you truly care for, I would willingly bear the consequences of ending the engagement. As for the reason to break it off, that’s even easier—lack of emotional compatibility, low pheromone match—there’s always a reason. My previous refusal doesn’t count as deceiving the royal family.”

 

Such boldness bordered on reckless audacity.

 

If he hadn’t read that book, Ji Chenxi might have felt as though he were seeing Bai Anran in a whole new light—perhaps even intrigued by this unusually clever omega, just as the book described. But having learned some of Bai Anran’s nature from the book, Ji Chenxi’s mood remained steady, without much surprise.

 

“If you had come to me two months ago, I might have agreed,” Ji Chenxi said, letting the words hang.

 

After all, they shared a childhood bond. Had Bai Anran come sooner, his chances would have been much higher.

 

Bai Anran smiled, showing no trace of disappointment at being refused.

 

“Honestly, the moment I got close to Your Highness, I already suspected I’d be rejected.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“There’s a sweet wine scent on Your Highness, blended with your pheromones. That’s not a smell that comes from ordinary interaction. Looks like you already have your own omega.”

 

Ji Chenxi, who had been lazily leaning back in the chair, couldn’t help but laugh at that remark. His omega… Chi Zhuo?

 

If Chi Zhuo really was an omega… that would be wild.

 

Ji Chenxi had been in a good mood, but thinking it over made him hesitate, and he even felt a little uneasy.

 

“You think the scent on me is from an omega?” Ji Chenxi asked with a laugh.

 

Bai Anran was a little doubtful himself. Omegas with a wine-like scent were extremely rare, and this scent was vaguely familiar. Bai Anran had once caught a similar scent on Ji Chenxi, but back then he could clearly tell it was alpha pheromones.

 

In just a moment of hesitation, Bai Anran’s mind raced through several possibilities before he finally said, “Your Highness, let’s just pretend I didn’t run into you tonight.”

 

An alpha carrying another alpha’s scent wasn’t a good sign, especially when the two scents clashed and intertwined, showing obvious signs of blending.

 

“It’s fine. I know you wouldn’t say anything random. I just got into a scuffle with another alpha because we didn’t get along, and our scents mixed,” Ji Chenxi said lightly.

 

“Mm,” Bai Anran replied softly, then pulled out a small bottle of scent remover and handed it to Ji Chenxi.

 

Ji Chenxi’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he smiled. “Thanks.”

 

He took the bottle, sprayed himself lightly, and the lingering scent that had clung stubbornly to him finally faded significantly.

 

“You used the verbal engagement we have as a reason to refuse the marriage—it’s not a big deal. We really do have that agreement. If your brother tries to bring it up later, just contact me.”

 

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

 

“No problem. And hey, since I borrowed your scent remover, I suppose I should give a little something back.”

 

Bai Anran knew well Ji Chenxi’s good intentions and could only nod seriously, expressing thanks again.

 

Just as Bai Anran was about to leave, Ji Chenxi, unusually proactive, called him back. “I just remembered something from when we were very young—you told me you wanted to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps and join the military.”

 

It really had been a long time. Bai Anran paused for a moment, trying to recall the memory.

 

He answered carefully, “I did say that back then.”

 

“If you still feel that way now, go for it boldly. Back then, when I said omegas weren’t fit for the military… my apologies.”

 

Bai Anran was momentarily stunned, then laughed. “Your Highness, not at all. It’s true that an omega in the military carries risks. When the mating season comes, it could be irresponsible and affect military operations.”

 

“But omegas have become generals before, haven’t they? The reason people don’t encourage omegas to serve is just that training is intense, and they worry about the physical toll. If none of that’s a problem, then there’s nothing stopping you. And for the mating season—aren’t there inhibitors?”

 

Bai Anran was about to say more, but Ji Chenxi waved him off. “Go on back. I see your aunt came with you—she’ll be worried after waiting so long.”

 

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Your Highness.”

 

Bai Anran cast Ji Chenxi a deep, lingering glance before taking his leave.

 

Ji Chenxi sprayed a little of the scent remover onto his hair. It wasn’t really surprising that Bai Anran hadn’t chosen him in the book—when he had said those words, he probably hadn’t meant anything by them. Most of his attention at the time was on his mother; Bai Anran had just been a playmate. But his careless remark had stuck with Bai Anran.

 

After spraying himself until the lingering scent was mostly gone, Ji Chenxi got ready to return.

 

But after taking just a few steps toward the banquet hall, he froze. His mind unconsciously replayed the image of someone leaving in a fluster.

 

He really couldn’t claim to be gentle. Even as a child, he had bluntly told little Bai Anran, who dreamed of joining the military, that omegas weren’t suitable. Words like tender, considerate, or gentle hardly applied to him. Even with Chi Zhuo, for whom he had some interest, he had shown no mercy.

 

Just like the first time, he could leave the alpha he had marked behind. After all, the other person had kissed him first and tried to mark him—he was only returning the favor.

 

Ji Chenxi took another step forward, resuming his walk.

 

He let out an irritated “tsk,” but still turned back along the same path.

 

If even the scent swirling around him was this intense, then Chi Zhuo, who had been bitten by him, would probably be rendered completely incapacitated by the susceptible phase.

 

Along the way, Ji Chenxi paid close attention and finally found a small standby robot. He input a few commands, and the robot produced a suppression ring and a pale-blue inhibitor.

 

In relatively high-end public spaces, these small robots were standard. They stored basic alpha and omega inhibitors, as well as rings to control involuntary pheromone overflow.

 

After retrieving the items, Ji Chenxi headed back along the same route.

 

As expected, even before reaching his previous spot, he was once again enveloped by the familiar scent. This time, though, the tequila pheromones wore a layer of rose, swirling around him in a somewhat airy, playful manner. They lunged at him persistently and clung.

 

If any more had come, his previous scent remover would have been useless.

 

When he reached the familiar dark corner, Ji Chenxi spotted Chi Zhuo sitting on the ground, back against the wall, eyes closed, resting.

 

Chi Zhuo was half-asleep, waiting for the susceptibility period to pass. This time, it hit harder than ever, with far more severe symptoms.

 

Racing heart, rising body temperature, rapid breathing, restlessness—these were minor compared to the biggest effect: an overwhelming need for attention and comfort from the one whose pheromones he had mingled with. Ridiculous as it seemed, this pure, pheromone-driven craving felt like thousands of ants crawling through his veins—itchy almost to the point of pain.

 

Ji Chenxi arrived, wrapped in the night wind. Seeing Chi Zhuo’s tightly furrowed brows even in a doze, the tiniest trace of conscience twitched, acknowledging his presence.

 

He reached out a finger, intending to smooth the crease between Chi Zhuo’s brows.

 

But just a few centimeters from touching, his hand was suddenly grabbed.

 

Chi Zhuo’s dark eyes were stormy and unfathomable, staring without blinking at the one who had returned.

 

Ji Chenxi smiled. “I went to get you a suppression ring and some inhibitor, Brother Chi Zhuo.”

 

He even held up the items in his other hand.

 

The murderous aura gathering between Chi Zhuo’s brows didn’t soften at all in response. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his voice hoarse. “Your Highness is so… kind?”

 

Ji Chenxi feigned innocence. “I’d like to think I look like a good guy. How about taking a shot of the inhibitor to calm down a little?”

 

Chi Zhuo, with his alpha senses, could clearly detect that the pheromones on Ji Chenxi had disappeared. And even though new pheromones were clinging to him, they weren’t actually leaving a lasting scent.

 

This discovery only made Chi Zhuo, already in the throes of the susceptibility period, even more agitated. Overwhelmed by emotion, he rejected the offer outright.

 

Ji Chenxi assumed he just didn’t trust what he’d brought. “Then at least wear the suppression ring—it’ll help keep the scent in check.”

 

This time, he didn’t ask for permission. He simply fastened it around his neck.

 

The sleek black leather ring sat snugly against that long, slender neck—looked good on him, actually.

 

Ji Chenxi briefly admired it, then set the inhibitor beside him and sprayed him with the pheromone-neutralizing mist. The omega-grade spray worked fast—what had been a dense, overwhelming scent instantly thinned. The bottle in Ji Chenxi’s hand was now empty.

 

For Ji Chenxi, the fading scent was a relief, helping him stay clear-headed. For Chi Zhuo, though, it was like the final straw crushing a camel’s back.

 

Being marked by an alpha was unpleasant enough, but the scent had been what Chi Zhuo wanted. Now, the pheromones that had already entwined in the air vanished, making Chi Zhuo’s already restless gaze even more dangerous.

 

Once he was done, Ji Chenxi was ready to pull his hand free and make his exit. But the grip on his wrist didn’t ease. Instead, in that moment when Ji Chenxi relaxed just slightly, Chi Zhuo suddenly tightened his hold and pulled hard.

 

Half crouched, Ji Chenxi lost his balance and fell toward him—

 

—and Chi Zhuo didn’t hesitate. He sank his teeth into Ji Chenxi’s neck.

 

A dull pain shot through him, blood rising to the surface.

 

The rose scent that had completely faded from the air bloomed again.

 

Ji Chenxi’s eyes widened.

 

Fuck!!

 

That’s what he got for being softhearted—like the farmer and the snake. Ji Chenxi and Chi Zhuo, same story, same ending.

 

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