Late at night, it was still dark outside. Chi Yao checked the time; it was a little past 4 a.m.

He was halfway through organizing some files, and he rubbed his eyes, barely able to keep them open.

Across from him, the other person, using his body, was wide awake.

“Hey,” Chi Yao propped his chin on his hand, lazily. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Jing Xi took a sip of coffee without looking up. “If you’re tired, you can go to bed first.”

Chi Yao: “You’re using my body. If you tire me out, will you be responsible?”

Jing Xi said blandly, “I will.”

Chi Yao: “…”

His nemesis wasn’t fun anymore.

He got up, grabbed the other man, and started walking.

“Time for bed.”

Jing Xi stumbled. “I’m not done yet.”

Chi Yao: “I can’t sleep with my body not next to me.”

Jing Xi: “…”

On the first floor, Fang Liang and two others were making a late-night snack in the kitchen.

Seeing them pass by in the hallway, Lin Yuheng looked up and greeted them.

“Master, Boss, do you want to come and have some?”

Chi Yao was about to speak, but Jing Xi beat him to it. “No, he’s not hungry.”

Chi Yao: “…”

Hearing the noise, Li Yuan, wearing an apron and holding a large ladle, came out of the kitchen.

“I’ve prepared your portions.”

Chi Yao rested his hand on the doorknob, looked down, and smiled reservedly. “Forget it, sleep is more important.”

Li Yuan, Lin Yuheng: “…”

Sleep? A verb or a noun?

Hearing the door close, they all looked at Fang Liang.

Sitting on the sofa and compiling data, Fang Liang didn’t look up. “Do they look like people who would do that?”

Li Yuan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “No.”

Lin Yuheng blushed and whispered, “But the Master looks like he’s good at it.”

Fang Liang, Li Yuan: “!!”

“Damn it!”

Li Yuan cursed, startling Fang Liang, who trembled.

“Should we stop them?”

He had only thought the two of them were weaklings pecking at each other, but hearing this, he suddenly felt his boss would be at a disadvantage.

Li Yuan hurried back to the kitchen. “My braised ribs are burnt!”

Fang Liang: “…”

In the room, Chi Yao began taking off his clothes before the door was even closed.

His head hurt from exhaustion; this damn biological clock.

He tossed his military jacket onto the sofa, loosened his tie with a hooked finger, and beckoned to Jing Xi.

“You get in bed first and find a nice bedtime story.”

Jing Xi: “You dragged me here just to warm the bed and tell stories?”

Chi Yao looked at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “What else?”

Jing Xi’s face went cold, and he turned to walk out.

“Hey,” Chi Yao called out, sighing softly, his eyes filled with a look of melancholy. “I can’t sleep after seeing those transformed people.”

Jing Xi was stunned.

Thinking of Chi Yao’s body, Jing Xi irritably ran a hand through his hair, pulled off his jacket, and walked toward the bed.

“If you’re not asleep in half an hour, I’m not helping you anymore.”

Where Jing Xi couldn’t see, the corner of Chi Yao’s mouth curved up, a look of triumph on his face.

Jing Xi found some children’s books on his terminal and randomly chose a story about a little tadpole looking for its mother.

Chi Yao leaned against the headboard, listening to him read, his consciousness drifting in and out.

In this state, he didn’t need Jing Xi to read a story; he could fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

But to Jing Xi, his exhausted expression looked particularly sad.

Jing Xi never knew how to comfort people and felt that a person like Chi Yao probably didn’t need comforting.

But seeing that look in Chi Yao’s eyes, Jing Xi’s fingers moved, and he quietly reached over and held his hand.

“Don’t worry too much about the mutation. Grandpa has been the military academy’s principal for many years, and his connections in this field are top-notch. He’ll definitely be able to—”

Chi Yao drowsily dozed off, very sleepy, but also felt it would be a shame to fall asleep so easily.

His hand was suddenly pressed down. He jolted, waking up with a start.

“You’re pressing on my hand.”

Interrupted by his drowsy voice, Jing Xi forgot what he was going to say next. “…”

Why did he think this guy needed comforting?

Chi Yao pulled his hand back and changed his position. “Keep reading.”

Jing Xi studied his expression and said flatly, “The little tadpole looked and looked for a long, long time until it became a frog and still couldn’t find its mother. Do you know why?”

Vaguely hearing the word “frog,” Chi Yao closed his eyes and scoffed, as if the question was too simple.

“Because their mom went to kiss Sleeping Beauty.”

Jing Xi: “…”

He was so tired he was incoherent, yet he was still holding on.

Jing Xi saw him nodding off, and although he was looking at himself, he somehow found it a little endearing.

He asked casually, “How does a mother turn into a prince?”

Chi Yao: “A-an omega male can also be called ‘mom’.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his head fell to the side, and he was fast asleep.

Jing Xi’s shoulder sank. If he listened carefully, he could even hear him snoring.

“…”

He snores when he sleeps?

He waited, body stiff, for a long time, until the breathing by his ear became long and steady. Jing Xi carefully laid him down and covered him with a blanket.

When his eyes were open, he felt like it was Chi Yao wearing his skin, but when he was asleep, he became himself.

Jing Xi watched him silently for a long time, his voice so low only he could hear it.

“This time, I won’t give you a chance to leave again.”

He quietly got out of bed, picked up the military jacket that had fallen to the floor, and took the wolf tooth pendant from the pocket.

Back in the study, he couldn’t concentrate on the work he had to do.

Jing Xi held the wolf tooth in front of him, turning it over and over.

Besides the code on the wolf tooth, there were many fine scratches, and the root was fixed to a metal chain.

Jing Xi: “Xiao Hei.”

A Xiao Hei popped up on the terminal.

[You better have a reason.]

Jing Xi: “…”

Was Xiao Hei this fierce before?

“Scan this metal chain,” he said, opening his palm.

The Xiao Hei wobbled and stopped on the chain. After a moment, a virtual screen popped up.

[Made between years 18-22, 35% wear and tear. Three clasps have been replaced, approximately 12 years, 8 years, and 6 years ago, respectively.]

6 years ago?

That was roughly when he first met Chi Yao.

This meant Chi Yao had been wearing this chain with him before they met.

Something he’d always worn couldn’t be as unimportant as he said, right?

Jing Xi rubbed the scratches on the wolf tooth, completely unable to imagine what kind of life Chi Yao had before they met.

N110.

Jing Xi narrowed his eyes slightly.

He had to go to that place.

The next day, when Chi Yao woke up, he was alone in the large bed.

He checked the time; it was already 12 p.m.

He opened the curtains and saw Jing Xi and Fang Liang sitting in the front yard, talking about something.

Yin Wei, the lazy fellow, was lying by Jing Xi’s feet, sleeping with his furry belly exposed.

He looked away to check his terminal. There were a few messages from D.

[During the transition, the situation is unclear, and the manpower I can mobilize is limited.]

[Don’t contact me this month. Handle any problems yourself.]

“That old man,” Chi Yao cursed softly. “He’s dropping the ball at a critical moment.”

The research base had been found, but the person hadn’t.

If he let the Shadow team act, and the operation failed, it would be like dragging them back into the fire.

He couldn’t afford to take that risk.

Jing Rong was sitting in the front yard, basking in the sun, with nothing to do. Hearing footsteps, he looked up. His grandson had finally appeared.

“Xixi, come and play a game with me.”

Chi Yao, who was holding a plate of snacks, said nothing.

He looked at Jing Xi, who was working on the balcony to his left, then at Jing Rong, who was drinking tea under the shade of a tree to his right. Finally, he turned and went to Jing Rong.

Chi Yao sat down across from Jing Rong. “What are we playing? Go?”

Jing Rong waved his hand. “Go. I’m going to redeem myself.”

Chi Yao forked a strawberry from a cream cake and bit into it, letting out a soft, contemptuous chuckle from his nose.

Jing Rong: “I’ve been studying Go for the past two months. I definitely won’t lose!”

Chi Yao put the bottom of the strawberry back on the plate. “What’s the bet?”

Jing Rong said cheerfully, “If I lose, I’ll find you a medical expert.”

Chi Yao raised an eyebrow and said grudgingly, “Fine.”

Jing Rong added, “If you lose, you have to promise to come home twice a month from now on.”

Chi Yao readily agreed. “No problem.”

Anyway, it wasn’t him who would be going home.

On the balcony, Jing Xi listened to Fang Liang’s report, and through the plants, he looked across the way.

The two over there were playing something and were very engrossed. Grandpa was angry and laughing at the same time, looking very invested.

When he was with him, Grandpa always suppressed his emotions. He hadn’t been this cheerful in years.

“Boss?”

Fang Liang saw the boss was distracted. He glanced at the wolf tooth hanging around his neck and, without asking anything, followed his gaze.

It was the Jing family’s grandpa and grandson over there.

“Can we trust Principal Jing?” Fang Liang asked. “Should we ask the old man for instructions?”

Jing Xi shook his head. “He can be trusted, but every medical expert he finds must be carefully vetted to ensure they’re safe.”

Fang Liang responded. “Yes. What about N110? Are we leaving today?”

“I’ll think about it,” Jing Xi said, his hands clasped in front of him, deep in thought.

Although not directly verified, the probability of the Shadow team being mutated humans was over 90%. It was clearly not suitable for them to go to that research base.

A place like that would definitely have targeted defense systems. It would be too dangerous for them to go.

“Are there any other venues opening soon?”

Fang Liang shook his head. “No, the venues have been busy lately, and with the change in leadership, they were probably hoping to make one last big score to support a certain person, but then—”

The venues were smashed, and all the money went into their pockets.

Thinking of this, Fang Liang couldn’t help but say, “The young general’s skills are on a completely different level from those mechanics in the black market. Just for that, it’s worth recruiting him to the Shadows.”

Jing Xi’s train of thought was broken.

“Recruit him to the Shadows?”

Fang Liang said seriously, “Didn’t you used to say you wanted to recruit him to be a changing-clothes model?”

Jing Xi: “…”

Across the way, Chi Yao suddenly sneezed three times.

Who the hell was talking about him again?

“What’s wrong? Do you have a cold?” Jing Rong frowned, asking with concern.

Chi Yao: “Do I look like the kind of person who gets a cold?”

Jing Rong thought of something and lowered his voice. “When was your last heat?”

Chi Yao froze, and the image of the beautiful person crying in the mirror flashed before his eyes.

His throat suddenly felt dry.

He covered it by picking up the cup and taking a sip. “I forgot. Not long ago, I guess.”

It had been a few months since that heat. There should have been other heats during this time, right?

Jing Rong opened his mouth, hesitating. “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. If you can’t find him, then just let it go.”

Chi Yao’s expression changed, and he looked up at him. “Let it go?”

Just because too much time had passed, they would stop looking for the person? Just let it go?

It wasn’t even his business, but for some reason, he felt incredibly angry.

Did that family from back then give up on looking for him for the same reason?

Or had they never intended to look for him from the very beginning?

Seeing his face change, Jing Rong panicked, knowing he had brought up a terrible topic.

“Xixi!” He grabbed Chi Yao’s arm, the words he wanted to say swirling on his tongue. “That spaceship was destroyed back then—”

Chi Yao’s body stiffened, and his eyes widened slightly.

He subconsciously looked at Jing Xi across the way, who happened to be looking back at him.

[That spaceship was destroyed back then—]

The words echoed in his ears.

This meant that from the beginning, the Yaoyao Jing Xi had been looking for no longer existed—