The moment he heard Qi Ge say “jump down,” Li Xiao had felt a fleeting impulse. Suddenly, he understood how Qi Ge had managed to completely evade surveillance and break into the Student Union office.

This bizarre pheromone seemed capable of controlling others, forcing the target to do exactly as he commanded—much like certain banned hypnotic narcotics. But while narcotics would be detected upon entering or leaving prominent facilities, pheromones could not be intercepted by standard scans.

Was this how Big Brother fell into their hands in my past life?

The imperial eagle, its leg securely bound, fluttered its wings in a frantic frenzy. Li Xiao had no time to deliberate further; he had to deal with the immediate threat before him.

“Ah—!”

On the mechanical arm, the last student in line was swept by a lunging imperial eagle and left dangling in mid-air. The student ahead reached out to pull him up, but with another imperial eagle swooping down, he was forced to drop back down to seek cover.

“Hang on!”

Amidst the howling mountain wind and torrential rain, combined with the siege of the imperial eagles, several students clung for dear life to the swaying mechanical arm, their bodies accumulating quite a few lacerations.

“Another one’s coming, get down!” someone bellowed at the top of their lungs through the wind and rain.

An imperial eagle dived low once again, its target being the student suspended in mid-air. The student’s pupils contracted. At the final moment, he decided to let go. He had already given this assessment his all; if he delayed any longer, he would be carried away by the eagle.

In a flash of lightning, a figure dropped from the sky. A military knife sliced through the imperial eagle’s neck, blood spraying from the blade’s edge to leave a fleeting, crimson trajectory in the rain curtain before vanishing instantly.

The student’s eyes widened as he watched the imperial eagle plunge before him. The hand that had loosened halfway gripped tight once more.

Li Xiao reached his hand out: “Hurry!”

The student strained with every ounce of his being to seize Li Xiao’s forearm and was hauled back onto the mechanical arm by an upward pulling force. His heart pounded frantically as he panted, barely able to keep his eyes open against the heavy rain.

“Hooking an imperial eagle’s leg with a launcher—it’s incredibly risky, but so strong!”

“Now is not the time to daze off, hurry over to the other side to help!” the student ahead barked in a low voice.

“Understood!”

As the imperial eagles pursued their prey, Li Xiao served as the perfect decoy, drawing a continuous stream of diving eagles toward him. Waiting for the optimal split-second, Li Xiao swung onto the back of another imperial eagle. The military knife flipped nimbly in his grasp, harvesting three imperial eagles in the blink of an eye.

On the ground, Song Jin’s gaze never wavered from Li Xiao.

The other party finally seemed to be getting serious. The sheer aggressiveness radiating from every fiber of his being held an exquisite allure for Song Jin. He had never been this intrigued by a person before. In the past, his older brother used to say that Alphas possessed an innate, fierce desire to conquer; he hadn’t thought much of it then, but now he understood a little.

As the last student crawled over the mechanical arm, Jiang Hao shouted loudly, “Is everyone across?”

The student quickly verified the headcount: “There’s still one more!”

Li Xiao drew more than half of the imperial eagles into the air while Song Jin dealt with the remainder, using a rope tied to his knife hilt to pierce several to death.

Qi Ge was mingled within the crowd. Having just evaded a falling imperial eagle, another one dropped right before him a second later. In his frantic attempt to dodge, he accidentally stepped on a tick and tripped, instantly set upon and gnawed at by the swarming insects. Hearing Qi Ge’s miserable shrieks, Song Jin indifferently retracted his gaze.

Out of the corner of his eye, a blade-light flashed. Song Jin snapped his head up just in time to see a military knife hurled into the sky through the rain curtain, impaling the imperial eagle Li Xiao was controlling.

“Watch out!”

Amidst a high-pitched screech of agony, Li Xiao was thrown off by the violently thrashing eagle and began a rapid descent.

Jiang Hao: “Big brother!”

Qian Can and the others: “Li Xiao!”

A chorus of hoarse, strained voices cried out from the opposite bank.

Midway through his fall, two more military knives sliced through the air toward him. Li Xiao swung his own blade to deflect one, but the other approached from a highly treacherous angle. He could only manipulate his posture to ensure it didn’t strike a vital spot, making a minor injury unavoidable.

With a sharp clang, that particular knife was suddenly deflected away by a projectile impact.

Seizing the opening, Li Xiao deployed his launcher rope to coil around the mechanical arm, swinging from underneath to flip himself gracefully back onto it. He lifted his gaze, rainwater sliding from the corner of his brow down his jawline to disappear into his collar.

Ten meters away, Song Jin stood atop the roof of the excavator, smoothly catching his returned military knife. Beneath the heavy curtain of rain, their gazes clashed across the distance.

“Help me!”

A cry for assistance echoed from behind. Li Xiao turned and saw a student running toward them, entirely caked in mud, with a massive herd of wild boars hot on his heels. If he wasn’t mistaken, this one was an exchange student.

Scanning the entire stampeding herd, Li Xiao fired his launcher, binding the front leg of the boar closest to the student. Gripping the mechanical arm tightly with his left hand, he hauled back on the rope with his right. Under the immense force, the wild boar was flipped over instantly. The boars in the rear couldn’t brake in time; they collided into a heap and rolled down into the ravine like a cascade of dumplings.

The students on the opposite bank craned their necks to look, utterly dumbfounded.

“Holy crap! He took down a whole wave in one go?!”

“Beautiful!”

“Too strong!”

If this level of strength made Li Xiao ‘eye candy,’ then they didn’t even qualify to be the dust on the vase.

The excavator was already suspended precariously over the edge, swaying incessantly under the violent impact. Jiang Hao struggled to stabilize the chassis, attempting to back up a little, but the treads kept slipping. The wheels spun until smoke rose, yet the vehicle refused to budge an inch.

As the excavator listed slightly to the right, Song Jin leaped to the front to inspect. He found a protruding boulder wedged tightly against the left tread; if they forced a retreat, it would likely tear the tread right off.

The exchange student had already jumped onto the mechanical arm with Li Xiao’s assistance. Song Jin turned and pulled open the driver’s side door. “Go to the back seat and unfasten the anchoring ropes. I’ll take the wheel.”

“Alright!” Jiang Hao let go only after Song Jin took over, scrambling into the back.

The sheer volume of lute frogs and ticks meant more imperial eagles could arrive at any moment; staying here for an extra minute meant an extra minute of mortal peril.

Controlling the excavator, Song Jin spoke over the public channel to everyone: “From now on, follow my lead.”

The crowd: “Understood!”

Song Jin drove forward a fraction. The excavator dipped downward instantly, sending a massive cascade of dirt and rock tumbling into the ravine. The students behind, completely in the dark, instinctively tightened their ropes and screamed at the top of their lungs for him to reverse.

Song Jin calmly adjusted the wheel angle, tilting the vehicle toward the right. Li Xiao arrived at the front just in time. Seeing the tread separate from the boulder, he reminded Song Jin, “That’s it.”

Song Jin gave a flat response: “Prepare to reverse! Jiang Hao, coordinate with me to release the ropes.”

Jiang Hao: “Understood!”

With everyone tightening their ropes and Song Jin increasing the driving force in tandem, they finally managed to haul the excavator up, retreating to a relatively safe position.

Monitoring and Command Cabin, Military Warship

A group of instructors looked as though they had just won a grand battle, high-fiving one another in celebration.

“Beautiful!”

“I’m going to add this rescue into the real-combat case analysis. These kids are exceptional.”

“For first-years to demonstrate such high-level team synergy is quite remarkable.”

“Li Xiao and Song Jin… tsk, why aren’t they in my class?!”

Chen Xing notified the rescue team to cancel the alert for Sector D9, his heart bursting with joy. Just then, he heard an instructor beside him remark, “Though both of these rascals scored single digits on the written section of the last exam. Each one is more resistant to authority than the last. Troublesome.”

Chen Xing: “…”

Just how on earth do I stimulate these bright kids’ competitive spirit? I’ll have to ask Old Master Qian later; his Eminence is the expert.

Inside the Exam Room

The screech of imperial eagles echoed once more from the horizon. The group didn’t dare tarry, quickly retreating toward higher ground. By the time they entered a rock cave, the sky had turned pitch black.

The excavator was parked at the cave entrance by Song Jin. A crowd of students sat heavily on the ground, panting for breath. Oblivious to the mud and rainwater covering them, they were too exhausted to utter a word.

Qian Can leaned against the rock wall, his voice raspy and drained: “That was… truly thrilling.”

Qin Le retrieved a searchlight and hung it high up to provide illumination: “Those with wounds, tend to them early to avoid infection.”

Drenched from head to toe, Li Xiao pulled out a towel to dry his hair while observing the conditions outside. Song Jin’s gaze swept across Li Xiao’s profile; beneath the damp hair, the silver hoop on his earlobe appeared even more striking. He nipped his fingertips, suppressing a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, and asked casually, “Why did you jump down back then without saying a word?”

Song Jin didn’t deliberately lower his voice, and many students nearby looked over upon hearing it.

Li Xiao glanced at Song Jin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Qi Ge looking over, his gaze vigilant yet laced with a hint of perplexity—likely baffled as to why Li Xiao had broken free from his control. At that moment, he had indeed been disoriented for a split second, but he had snapped out of it quickly and decided to play along by leaping down into the ravine to observe Qi Ge’s reaction.

Li Xiao: “My mind went a bit blank, and before I knew it, I had jumped down. Fortunately, the screech of the imperial eagle brought me back to my senses; otherwise, there’s no telling where I would have been washed away to.”

“You certainly are optimistic,” Song Jin said in a slow, drawling cadence. “If you had truly plunged into that muddy torrent, there’s no telling whose stomach you’d be sitting in right now.”

Speaking of the incident, the surrounding students began discussing it in hushed tones.

“It’s a miracle you managed to bind that imperial eagle at that moment. It was far too perilous.”

“Good thing he has the strength. If it were me, I’d already be in someone’s stomach.”

“Li Xiao, what’s your rank at the Dance First Military Academy? Your practical combat ability is so formidable.”

“Leaping into the sky to slay an imperial eagle… I wouldn’t even dare dream of it.”

Da Bei asked excitedly, “Bro, where did you train? That was amazing!”

Song Jin raised an eyebrow: “Isn’t he a student from your military academy?”

Realizing his slip of the tongue, Da Bei stammered an amendment: “I meant before he entered the military academy.”

The reaction was far too blatant. Song Jin nodded slowly, looking at Li Xiao with a probing inquiry: “Did you receive professional training before entering the military academy?”

“It was all learned at the academy.” Li Xiao had no intention of giving Song Jin an opportunity to press further. He looked toward Qi Ge to shift the topic: “Did you say something to me at that moment?”

Qi Ge’s hand tightening a bandage stiffened. He avoided Li Xiao’s gaze. “I don’t think so? If I did, it must have been a thank you or something similar. I was too panicked to remember.”

“Is that so?” Li Xiao’s tone carried a hint of uncertainty. “Then perhaps I remembered incorrectly.”

Detecting Li Xiao’s probe into Qi Ge, Song Jin deliberately interjected, “I seem to have caught a certain scent earlier. It was quite bizarre. Did you smell it?”

Meeting Song Jin’s gaze—which feigned bewilderment but was entirely scrutinizing—Li Xiao picked up the thread unhurriedly: “I believe there was. That putrid odor was foul, likely the stench emitted from the lute frog’s internal organs.”

Song Jin: “It tasted like a thousand-year-old rotting corpse pickled in a vat. It nearly made me retch.”

What kind of scent could be that unique? Qian Can, Da Bei, and a few others had their curiosity piqued, and they began discussing it concurrently.

Qi Ge’s lips tightened into a rigid line, his face unsightly. Failing the operation had left him covered in injuries, and now he had to endure so many people ridiculing the scent of his pheromones, leaving him increasingly infuriated.

Yet the two who had instigated the topic ceased discussing it entirely, murmuring quietly between themselves.

Song Jin: “Soggy as you are, aren’t you going to take those clothes off? They won’t dry if you keep them on.”

His hair half-dried, Li Xiao teased casually, “Caring about me this much?”

Song Jin: “Caring for classmates is a traditional virtue of our Saintia military academy students.”

Li Xiao laid his removed outer coat flat across a clean boulder. Just as he was about to peel off the inner layer, he turned his head and found Song Jin staring straight at him. He countered, “Is peeping at others changing also a traditional virtue?”

Caught red-handed, Song Jin displayed not a shred of guilt: “I’m just helping you check if there are any wounds.”

Li Xiao: “How considerate.”

Song Jin: “We are comrades-in-arms; there’s no need to be so polite.”

Li Xiao: “I’m not used to being stared at by beautiful people. It makes me shy.”

Song Jin: “If you stop looking at me, you won’t realize you’re being stared at.”

After a momentary stalemate, Song Jin huffed with dissatisfaction and walked away.

Li Xiao: “…”

He’s the one throwing a tantrum?

In the rock cave, several exchange students were tending to one another’s wounds. Noticing a tall silhouette approaching out of the corner of their eyes, they looked up to find it was none other than Song Jin.

Song Jin looked down at two Beta exchange students, his tone chilly: “Where are your military knives?”

A single sentence arrested everyone’s attention. Jiang Hao recalled the three military knives thrown toward Li Xiao earlier and stood up to walk over. Qian Can, Qin Le, and the others instantly lost their jovial moods, their expressions turning solemn. Wiping the water from his body, Li Xiao unobtrusively observed the commotion over there.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, a crew-cut black-haired Beta said with an innocent face, “They were lost during combat.”

A brown-haired Beta chimed in, “We couldn’t find them after impaling a lute frog.”

“Impaling a lute frog?” Song Jin spoke as if he had just heard a joke. “Wasn’t it an imperial eagle? Afraid you’d miss, you even threw three of them, hm?”

Jiang Hao’s knuckles popped with a menacing crack: “So it was you two. Deliberately striking the imperial eagle to nearly cause big brother to fall into the ravine.”

“We did no such thing!” the brown-haired Beta loudly refuted.

“Saintia isn’t like Dance; our technology isn’t that backward,” Song Jin said unhurriedly. “Every military knife possesses a unique identifier. Whoever raises a hand against a comrade can be uncovered by a simple system check.”

The crew-cut black-haired Beta snapped to his feet: “I was killing an imperial eagle, it’s not like I harmed anyone intentionally!”

The words had barely left his mouth when a fist connected with his face, drawing blood from his nose and sending him staggering against the stone wall. Before he could regain his footing, Song Jin seized his collar and delivered another punch: “I have no patience to listen to your explanations. You can explain it slowly to the instructors when you go back.”

The brown-haired Beta grabbed Song Jin’s wrist, barking sharply, “We are exchange students! You dare raise a hand against us?!”

Song Jin: “You two had the audacity to commit murder in an exam room, what makes you think there’s anything I wouldn’t dare do?”

The brown-haired Beta applied immense pressure to Song Jin’s hand, only to have it broken free from effortlessly before a solid fist struck his jaw. The black-haired Beta attempted to counterattack, but his hands were twisted backward and fractured by Song Jin, eliciting a miserable shriek of agony.

“You brought this on yourself!” the brown-haired Beta gritted his teeth and lunged forward.

Song Jin tossed the black-haired Beta aside, subduing the brown-haired Beta within a couple of exchanges, and delivered a kick that fractured his ribs.

“Ugh—!” The brown-haired youth curled into a ball from the pain, only to be hauled up once more for a brutal beating.

The onlookers didn’t dare intervene, and even the exchange students looked at one another, at a complete loss for what to do. They had all witnessed Li Xiao being brought down because the imperial eagle was struck. If Song Jin were intentionally making things difficult for the exchange students, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to rescue them earlier.

Leaving the two beaten half-dead, Song Jin squatted down, wiping the blood stained on his gloves back onto their clothes. His voice was deep and icy: “I couldn’t care less what grievances you share, but while you are in Saintia, you abide by Saintia’s rules. If you dare cause trouble, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

Qi Ge watched from a distance, his expression nuanced. Although those words were directed at those two, they served as a warning to all exchange students—killing the chicken to scare the monkeys.

Da Bei had never witnessed such a savage beating. His face paled with fright as he whispered to Li Xiao, “Bro, were they really doing it on purpose?”

Li Xiao shook his head: “Since things have escalated to this point, the military academy administration will likely intervene to investigate.”

Da Bei’s complexion worsened. What was going on? Was someone among the exchange students deliberately trying to assassinate the Second Highness?! He had never heard a peep about this!

Qin Le contacted the rescue team, and before long, the two Betas were carried away on stretchers. The atmosphere within the cave remained somewhat stifling. The crowd stole glances at Song Jin from time to time, their understanding of what constituted “someone you don’t mess with” thoroughly refreshed.

By midnight, the rain had ceased.

Li Xiao sat on the front of the excavator, listening to the distant and near howling of wild beasts, enjoying the night scenery alone. A faint rustle sounded beside his ear; he didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Song Jin propped himself on the hood and vaulted up, settling down beside Li Xiao. “Still awake at this hour?”

Li Xiao: “Waiting for you. Didn’t you come out precisely because you knew that?”

Song Jin stared deeply at Li Xiao. Qi Ge’s pheromones were highly peculiar; he had faintly caught that “jump down” command back then as well. To discern if it truly was mental control, asking Li Xiao directly was the most efficient route. Though he didn’t know where Li Xiao stood, at the very least, he wasn’t aligned with Qi Ge.

Song Jin: “What did it feel like back then?”

Li Xiao looked into his eyes, his voice dropping very low: “I can answer your question, but before that, I want to meet that person.”

As to who “that person” was, both men knew clear as day.

Exchanging information for leverage? Song Jin sneered: “Why meet him? Whatever he can give, I can give as well.”

Li Xiao: “You?”

Song Jin: “What? Am I inferior to an old man?”

Li Xiao: “…”

An old man? Song Yu was a beauty by any standard.

“You can’t give it,” Li Xiao said, looking out at the pitch-black mountain forests ahead. “Find a way to let me meet him once. I know you can manage it.”

The incident with Qi Ge had instilled a sense of urgency within him. Perhaps there were still many things from his past life that he remained oblivious to.

Song Jin felt inexplicably disgruntled. Suppressing his irritation, he said, “Fine. But the old man lives a reclusive life and receives no outsiders.” Catching Li Xiao looking over, Song Jin added unhurriedly, “If you want to see him, you have to marry me first.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Li Xiao: “Become sworn brothers?”

Song Jin smiled: “Get married.”

Li Xiao: “…”