Lan Bo moaned, tail curling weakly around Bai Chunian’s calves. His instinctive movements, though unconscious, were the most provocative invitation to an alpha. Bai Chunian lost control, yanking his hair to tilt his head up, deepening his advance.
Lan Bo’s fingertips scored against Bai Chunian’s chest, pain driving his eyes from black to dark blue. Pale skin contrasted sharply with the night behind.
“Ugh…” Lan Bo struggled to breathe, tail gently tapping in submission.
Bai Chunian released him. Lan Bo’s eyes glazed, lips flushed and wet from the kiss, saliva trailing to his chin, which Bai Chunian licked clean.
Outside the ruined temple, all the assembled trainees and instructors had an unobstructed view of Bai Chunian and Lan Bo’s intimate display. Lu Yan ducked under Bi Lansheng’s arm, using his rabbit ears to shield his eyes. “You perverted old rogue,” he mumbled.
Ying and the little clownfish had long since grown accustomed, but the other alphas and omegas couldn’t help feeling stirred, some even burning with jealousy.
Tan Qing and Tan Yang stood expressionless, igniting the combustible gas in their palms, silently contemplating whether to set off a little fireworks for the instructors.
“All right, now everyone knows I’m yours,” Bai Chunian said cheerfully, leaning down to tuck the tiny pearl dangling from Lan Bo’s lashes into his pocket. “Are you satisfied with this little ritual?”
Lan Bo wiped his lips, grabbing Bai Chunian’s collar and pulling him close. “Are you planning a rebellion?”
Bai Chunian stepped lightly onto the altar edge, crouching beside him, one knee touching the ground, tucking stray hair behind Lan Bo’s ear, smiling leisurely. “Nope. The land is my domain, and I just wanted to show you I can protect you here.”
“Here’s your hair—it was messy.” Bai Chunian held out his wrist, part of the armored vest visible, with a small elastic band around it.
Lan Bo pinched the band off his wrist, gathering his tousled golden hair and tying it at the back.
A little plastic blue fish was stuck to the band—a trinket Bai Chunian had bought while wandering the docks for cigarettes, carefully selecting it from a stall.
Lan Bo settled quickly, tail curling into a coil.
“Such adoration and anticipation,” Bai Chunian glanced at the trainees. “Don’t overthink it. If one day they find out my identity, who knows what will happen? I’d rather not imagine.”
Lan Bo looked up. “What will happen?”
Bai Chunian exhaled softly. “I don’t want them to fear me… though they always do. That’s fine. If my identity is ever revealed, their reactions shouldn’t be too extreme.”
Lan Bo shook his head. “I’ve been… altered too. But a king is still a king.”
“That’s different. You never needed to fit in anywhere,” Bai Chunian murmured, picking at small stones lodged in the altar’s cracks.
Lan Bo placed a hand on his nape, whispering comfortingly, “You’re not scary. You have pink paw pads.”
“?” Bai Chunian froze. The earlier kiss had been so intense he hadn’t noticed a soft layer forming in his palm. “Ouch,” he muttered, covering his hand and withdrawing it.
Lan Bo smiled, tail curling into a heart shape.
“No noise,” Bai Chunian said, immediately lifting the merman onto his shoulders and heading toward the assembly point, giving a couple of playful pats on his rear.
When Bai Chunian returned and set Lan Bo down before them, the trainees stiffened, eyes lowered, too intimidated to meet him. The entire group had failed the exercise, all real-time footage sent to headquarters—how Bai Chunian would discipline them was anyone’s guess. Seven days and nights in a POW-style SERE training camp was entirely plausible.
Unexpectedly, Bai Chunian said, “Well done. Quite impressive.”
The trainees could hardly believe their ears.
Instructor Zheng Yue crossed his arms. “We never intended any of you to walk away alive. Taking down three of us was unexpected.”
The trainees’ eyes flickered with subtle joy.
“Don’t get too excited,” Bai Chunian said. “Luckily, this was a drill—only the result counts, not casualties. Each of you will write a 3,000-word post-mission report, to be collected by your class leaders in two days.”
“Oh…” the little ones muttered, listless.
Clean-up staff from Red Peach Island provided food. Someone suggested an open-air barbecue, and the exhausted, famished trainees eagerly waited for the meat to cook.
Bai Chunian sliced a piece of meat with his dagger, cooled it, wrapped it in lettuce, and fed it to Lan Bo.
Lan Bo looked at the wrap. “A gift?”
“No, just eat it like this.” Bai Chunian tightened the lettuce around the meat, skewering it on the dagger to feed him.
Lan Bo opened his enormous, spiky-backed teeth and bit through the meat along with the dagger, swallowing it before returning his mouth to its natural shape.
“Hey, keep your mouth smaller,” Bai Chunian chided, patiently making another wrap, feeding it gently while murmuring, “Don’t bite my hand off.”
Instructor Red Crab coughed. “Some people are alive, yet he treats us as if we were dead.”
Xiao Xun knelt properly, quietly slicing a piece of meat, wrapping it neatly into a square in lettuce. Just as he was about to eat, he noticed Instructor Han watching him.
Xiao Xun froze, then realized, blankly handing the lettuce parcel to Han Xingqian, who accepted it with satisfaction.
Xiao Xun held a new lettuce leaf, forgetting what to do next, his tail wagging uncontrollably.
During meals, instructors and trainees naturally sat closer than usual. One trainee boldly suggested K instructor remove his skull mask—they had never seen K’s face, and neither had the other instructors. K never spoke, only producing synthetic electronic sounds when necessary.
K instructor cut a small opening near his mouth in the mask and silently ate. From this, they could tell he wasn’t a robot, and his jawline was strikingly well-defined.
Lu Yan, still brooding over his loss to Bi Lansheng, had no energy to gossip about others.
No trainees survived the assessment, so rankings were determined by survival time. Bi Lansheng was the last to finish, finally deciding the outcome of this deadly gamble.
Lu Yan was too angry to eat, hiding behind a ruin stone to gnaw on lettuce.
A gloved hand rested on his head. Lu Yan shook, ears wobbling in response.
“Don’t be mad. There’ll be a next time,” Bi Lansheng said, settling beside him. At this point, he already towered a head above Lu Yan; the alpha physique was starting to become noticeable at their age.
“I just wish I’d reacted a bit faster… Ugh, I could’ve dodged it, but I never thought he’d ambush me there,” Lu Yan muttered, ears drooping.
Bi Lansheng ruffled his hair. “Does our wager still count?”
Lu Yan dejectedly traced lines in the ground with his fingertip. “You tell me. Should I buy you breakfast or… what?”
Rolling up his sleeve, Bi Lansheng extended half of his wrist toward Lu Yan. “Just bite me here. Is that okay?”
Lu Yan’s ears perked, eyes widening in surprise.
“That’s the only request,” Bi Lansheng said, holding up his sleeve.
Lu Yan licked his lips, feigning nonchalance. “Just… just here?”
“Mm.”
Hesitating briefly, Lu Yan leaned down and bit Bi Lansheng’s wrist. His sharp little teeth pierced the skin, injecting honey-scented pheromones into the alpha.
A small, white rabbit mark appeared on Bi Lansheng’s wrist—round and tiny. He stared at it for a long moment, as if it were some precious piece of jewelry.
“Don’t show it off. The classmates will tease you,” Lu Yan cautioned.
Bi Lansheng patted his head.
“I’ll be up at four tomorrow morning for training—no, three-thirty,” Lu Yan added, remembering the exam, tugging at Bi Lansheng’s armored vest. “You’re coming too.”
Bi Lansheng smiled. “Mm.”
Their return flight took off at dawn, landing on Aphid Island. The trainees resumed their routine training, waiting for the instructors to process the year-end assessment footage before giving them a debrief.
Bai Chunian departed Aphid Island by helicopter to meet the Reptile—who had requested a one-on-one discussion. He left Lan Bo behind, wary that if Lan Bo were present and a disagreement broke out, the mansion might get destroyed.