The universe is vast. Stars from billions of light-years away are burning themselves out, only to become the twinkling lights seen billions of years later.
Yet no one was there to appreciate such beauty at this moment. Before the large floor-to-ceiling window, a man in a black uniform braced his hands on the desk. The veins on his hands, already prominent, now bulged even more—as if they might burst through his skin, spattering thick crimson.
The alpha’s chest heaved violently, his breathing growing heavier, like a leaky bellows. The metallic taste of rust hit his throat, making him gasp for air. Gu Lingzhou’s eyes were bloodshot. At first he muttered in a low voice, then a hoarse rasp finally escaped, audible enough to make out: “Not an illusion… not an illusion… Ha… there really are people…” The past flooded his mind, all the pieces connecting into a line. He stepped back, his leg hitting the chair, and the innocent seat went flying. Cracks immediately spider-webbed across the glass, spreading from a single point to cover the entire window.
The guards at the door flinched and exchanged glances.
Rock-paper-scissors. One signaled, the other tried to weasel out, but his hand was guided to knock on the door.
Gu Lingzhou clutched his burning forehead, his breathing still unsteady. The pheromone concentration in the air was extremely high. He reined it in slightly and rasped: “What is it?”
“General, are you alright?”
“If there’s nothing, get out—stay far away!” Gu Lingzhou’s explosive fury hit the soldiers at the door. Both guards stiffened, looked at each other, and ultimately followed orders, saluting: “Yes, General.”
Gu Lingzhou’s steps were unsteady as he picked up the shattered screen, pressing it in frustration—it was broken. His mood soured further.
Just then, a notification chimed from the computer—a video call from An Bao.
What he wanted to discuss went without saying.
The scarred man on the screen sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Gu Lingzhou’s state—worse than he’d imagined. The shattered glass in the background was clearly the result of human impact. For military-grade glass to be smashed like that—an S-class alpha’s destructive power was truly terrifying.
An Bao dared not speak, watching Gu Lingzhou’s reddened eyes and the expression of pain barely masked by forced composure.
“I’m going back to find him.” After a long silence, a calm voice came from the other end—but it felt more like the precursor to madness. An Bao couldn’t stay still; if he didn’t speak up, this man might literally fly back this instant.
“Calm down. Your work isn’t done yet, and—” He couldn’t find comforting words. Among the three in the photo, two were completely obscured by the angle, but the remaining one was unmistakably Shi Yuxing.
“Is this not calm enough? Those two broke into my home, sleeping with my wife. The ones I saw last time must be them too.” Gu Lingzhou’s eyes were dark as ink, unyielding, like a reincarnated demon, his words sending chills down the spine: “I’m going to kill them.”
An Bao genuinely saw a chilling glint in his eyes—enough to make him shudder. He’d seen that look before, when Gu Lingzhou was in battle, eyes bloodshot, slaughtering every Zerg in sight without mercy.
“Calm down first!”
“How much calmer do you want me to be?!” Gu Lingzhou kicked the table. The screen glitched and flickered back to normal. An Bao’s heart seized, his mouth opening but no words coming out.
Gu Lingzhou clenched his fists, then slowly released them. “Brother, yesterday I told him I couldn’t make it back for my birthday and to treat himself to something nice. But he turned around and used that money to be with someone else.”
“Brother, didn’t you say he was well-behaved all those three years?”
An Bao had originally felt sorry for his brother, but that remark made his fists clench. You’re the one who left without a word for three years, and now you’re blaming me? He didn’t say it out loud—the kid’s current combat prowess was not something a crippled soldier like him could handle. The immediate priority was to contact his deputy.
“Hmph.” Gu Lingzhou laughed, his lashes covering his eyelids, the curve of his lips tasting bitter. He picked up the coffee cup he’d bought from the café on his desk. The handle was nearly crushed. He suddenly raised it, pausing midair. “The ones I saw at the café with him were them.” Then he set the cup down, gently tracing the rim as if caressing someone’s lips from afar. Unexpectedly, An Bao watched him throw the rubber coaster that came with the cup to the floor.
An Bao: “…” Is this a small outburst?
Whether it was because the screen had glitched, he thought he saw a glimmer at the corner of this junior’s eye.
Was he crying?
“Hey—a real man doesn’t cry. Wipe your tears.” Still, having your wife run off with someone else was genuinely painful. If he were Gu Lingzhou, he might have cried even harder. Gu Lingzhou tilted his head back, took a deep breath, and completely ignored An Bao’s advice. “He must have been led astray. I have to go back. Do you support me?”
An Bao hesitated, then silently sent a message to Wen Lan.
“Do whatever you want. I can’t control a general.”
His consolation was worse than saying nothing.
·
After returning from the amusement park, Shi Yuxing had planned a candlelit dinner. But no matter how much he calculated, he hadn’t foreseen a call from his parents asking him to come home for a meal.
Xiao Zhou’s hands were still massaging his shoulders when the call from the Shi parents came in. Shi Yuxing saw the name, and suddenly his back and shoulders didn’t ache anymore. He signaled the two alphas to keep their distance.
“Hello, Mom. What’s up?” He gestured as he spoke, telling them to keep quiet. The two alphas craned their necks, gazing longingly. Shi Yuxing looked away. On the screen, his mother’s face was all smiles, two round, bright white pearls dangling from her earlobes.
“Xingxing, did you forget you’re supposed to come home for dinner at the end of the month? Today’s already Sunday.”
Shi Yuxing sucked in a breath and sat up straight. “I forgot with work. Why didn’t you remind me yesterday? I thought the end-of-month weekend hadn’t come yet.”
“Is Xingxing coming back?” his father’s voice asked from off-screen.
His mother replied: “He is. Go tell Aunt Zhang to make some of Xingxing’s favorite dishes.” Then she turned back to Shi Yuxing: “You were busy at the hospital last month, and we didn’t know if you’d have to work this Saturday. With your alternate weekends and all that confusing schedule, we don’t really get it. So we called you today instead.”
Shi Yuxing remembered the last time his alternate weekend had lined up with taking those two to the aquarium and running into Gu Lingzhou—it had already been a month without him even realizing it.
“Just send me a message next time. I’ll reply when I see it.” He thought of the marketing videos his parents forwarded to him every day and pinched the bridge of his nose. They never sent anything important—just spam from random video accounts.
His mother’s smile was warm. “Videos are still more convenient—I get to see my son’s face… Huh? Why isn’t Lingzhou around? Is he not here? I was hoping he could come over for a meal too—it’s been so long since we’ve seen him.”
The news of Gu Lingzhou’s business trip was known only to a few; it was normal that his mother didn’t know.
“Ah, right—” Shi Yuxing was about to confirm when Gu Lingzhou’s face suddenly appeared in the video. “Mom, I’ll go back with him.”
The sudden intrusion left Shi Yuxing frozen in embarrassment. His mouth twitched, and he quickly corrected himself: “Yes, Mom. We’ll come together.”
“That’s wonderful. Take your time on the road—stay safe. I’ll hang up now.”
The two faces lingered on the dark screen. Shi Yuxing immediately tossed the phone onto the sofa, turned, and knelt on one knee to grab Gu Lingzhou by the neck. This old man—no wonder Xiao Zhou called him scheming. “What are you doing?! Don’t you know this could cause trouble?!”
Xiao Zhou jumped in, trying to stop him. “Wife, calm down, calm down.”
Shi Yuxing stopped choking him and turned to Xiao Zhou. “You saw this and didn’t stop him? You two planned this, didn’t you?”
His tea-colored eyes bored into both of them. Xiao Zhou averted his gaze guiltily, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The other one, with his thicker skin, showed no guilt at all, smiling as he gently removed Shi Yuxing’s hand. “It’s good to go see your parents. Besides, they don’t know that one is gone.”
“Not knowing is one thing—but when they find out, won’t it be a disaster?” At this point, Shi Yuxing still had no idea that the real general already knew. He was already well on his way down the path of ruin.
Defeated, Shi Yuxing flopped onto the sofa and grabbed a throw pillow to cover his face. “I should have just turned you both in. So annoying, so annoying!” He started punching the pillow in frustration.
Suddenly, he stopped and sat up. “Fine—since we’re going, you two figure it out. Who am I bringing? I can’t bring both, can I?” Bringing one meant the other would definitely throw a fit.
Unexpectedly, the two Gu Lingzhous exchanged a glance and both smiled.
“For fairness, we’ll switch halfway.”
…
They really had planned this. Looking at the twins in matching outfits, Shi Yuxing pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
Whatever. If they got caught, he’d just use the robot excuse again.
Shi Yuxing led the younger alpha to knock on the door first. It was Aunt Zhang, the nanny who’d raised him since childhood, who opened it. She broke into a wide grin at the sight of Shi Yuxing. But when she saw the person behind him, she paused for a few seconds.
His mother came over with his father. “Lingzhou, it’s been a while.”
Xiao Zhou carefully remembered what Shi Yuxing had taught him and smoothly said, “Mom, Dad.”
His father gave his son-in-law a once-over. The young alpha’s ears were red enough to drip blood. A rare glint of curiosity appeared on his wrinkled face. “Lingzhou, you look a lot younger.”
His mother leaned in for a closer look. “Oh, you’re right. Aunt Zhang, look—Lingzhou’s skin is so good. Pretty impressive for someone who’s been through so much wind and sand.”
The young alpha’s face grew hot. Shi Yuxing quickly herded the three onlookers away: “Let us in first.” Any longer and they’d be exposed.
“Right, right—Aunt Zhang, get a pair of slippers for Lingzhou.” His mother let go of her husband’s arm and took her son’s. “Xingxing, you must be hungry. I made your favorite sweet and sour pork. Let’s wash up and eat.”
His father’s gaze never left Gu Lingzhou. Frowning, he studied the Imperial General—something felt off. “Lingzhou, come here.” Xiao Zhou, still being treated as the 24-year-old, nervously glanced at Shi Yuxing for help. Shi Yuxing quickly stepped between them. “Dad, let’s eat first. We can talk after—he hasn’t eaten all day.”
When he turned back to look at Gu Lingzhou, the young alpha’s face was even redder.
“I just wanted to see if he had a fever,” his father said, turning to fetch the medicine kit.
Shi Yuxing sighed in relief. “Got it, Dad.”
Shi Yuxing’s father was a businessman—not a huge empire, but enough to support his son for three lifetimes. As the only child, Shi Yuxing had no interest in business, and his father worried he’d have no backing as a doctor. When the Gu family proposed the marriage, he agreed on the spot. He’d had regrets since—given how things ended back then, it had made him furious. If not for the sake of appearances, he might have flipped the table and called off the wedding. Even now, his son-in-law still rubbed him the wrong way in some aspects.
After taking his temperature, his father looked a little disappointed. “It’s normal. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Dad. Maybe it was just the wind on the way over.”
His mother told them all to wash up and eat. “Aunt Zhang, join us—there’s so much food.”
Aunt Zhang had never married or had children; the only child she’d ever raised was Shi Yuxing, and she treated him like her own. The Shi family had always considered her family, and it was common for her to eat with them. Shi Yuxing set a bowl in front of her. “Auntie, eat too.”
“Alright, alright—I’ll get my own chopsticks.” She took it hurriedly. Even though the Shis treated her like family, she still knew her place.
Gu Lingzhou watched Aunt Zhang walk away and tugged at Shi Yuxing’s sleeve, whispering: “Why do you call her ‘Auntie’? She looks like she’s not even thirty.”
Shi Yuxing whispered back: “She’s over forty. She came to our house right after she turned eighteen. When I was little, I called her ‘big sister.’ Later, when outsiders bullied her, she told me to call her ‘Aunt Zhang.’ I didn’t want to—she’s basically half a mother to me. So I call her ‘Auntie’ instead. I kicked all those rich brats who picked on her.”
The alpha’s eyes lit up. “Wife, you’re amazing.”
“Ahem.” His mother across the table coughed, cheeks slightly flushed. “You two—don’t joke about Aunt Zhang during dinner. Eat up.”
Aunt Zhang came back out to find the four of them huddled around the round table with their heads down, unaware of what had just happened. Shi Yuxing realized his parents had heard their whole conversation and wanted to crawl under the table. By the time Gu Lingzhou had piled so much food into his bowl it was about to spill over, Shi Yuxing snapped back: “Enough, enough—eat your own food.”
“Xingxing, don’t overeat—you’ll feel sick. Ease up on the servings,” his father said matter-of-factly.
The young alpha, oblivious to anything amiss, said casually: “It’s fine, Dad. I know my wife—he can eat a lot more.”
His mother’s interest was piqued; her eyes curved as she probed: “Oh really? How much does Yuxing usually eat at home—rice and dishes?”
“If he only has one bowl of rice, he can polish off three plates this big. If he has two bowls, then two plates that big are enough. Any more and he can’t finish; any less and his stomach hurts in the morning from hunger.” He didn’t catch Shi Yuxing’s warning glare. The more he said, the more he gave away—what was he doing?
Shi Yuxing kicked his shin under the table. Gu Lingzhou stiffened instantly.
His mother covered her mouth with a laugh, her pearl earrings glinting like two points of light, apple cheeks rising. “You two are so close. Your father doesn’t even know how much I eat to feel full.”
“Don’t you get full after half a bowl?”
His mother just smiled. “Actually, I only eat until I’m five parts full each time. Silly.” His straight-laced father frowned in response. “Skipping meals for your figure? You need to eat properly.”
“Lingzhou, look at your father-in-law—no sense of romance. I eat small, frequent meals—it’s a healthy diet.”
“Cutting out snacks is better for your health than anything else. And you—” His father turned his fire on Shi Yuxing. “You eat less too. Don’t follow your mother’s bad example. When you’re older, diabetes and all sorts of diseases will catch up with you. I’ve seen it—it’s dangerous.”
Shi Yuxing nodded.
“Mr. Gu, would you like another bowl of rice?” Aunt Zhang noticed he’d finished his first bowl and stood to help. Gu Lingzhou nodded in thanks.
His father gave a casual compliment: “Aunt Zhang’s cooking is really good—have a few more bowls.”
“Yes, Dad.”
And so Gu Lingzhou ate to his heart’s content, finishing a third bowl.
Shi Yuxing poked him and slid his phone across with a message typed out—
You two can switch now.
His mother saw Gu Lingzhou suddenly put down his chopsticks and head for the door. “Lingzhou, what are you doing?”
Shi Yuxing covered for him: “He forgot something in the car—he’ll be right back.”
“No need to bring anything! Your father has so many gifts from business partners we can’t even finish them. Come empty-handed next time—I have piles of stuff here that’ll just end up thrown out.”
His father agreed: “Don’t waste money on us. We have plenty of oil and rice.”
To his parents, Gu Lingzhou was back in no time, but Shi Yuxing knew they’d swapped. This Gu Lingzhou carried himself with far more maturity, his gaze steadier. “Mom, Dad.”
He sat beside Shi Yuxing, looking down at the bowl in front of him. Aunt Zhang stood to refill it. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
The atmosphere quieted. Shi Yuxing quietly sucked in a breath through his teeth. Four bowls in one sitting—isn’t that too much? Should I tell him to stop?
His mother’s momentarily frozen mouth resumed function. “Oh… eat up. If that’s not enough, there should be more in the pot.”
Aunt Zhang: “There’s only enough for one more bowl. Sorry—I didn’t account for it.”
“It’s fine. Just have more of the dishes.”
His mother finished eating and studied her son-in-law. Did he have wrinkles around his eyes earlier? And there’s an extra ring on his left hand. His father picked up another bite with his chopsticks and also noticed the ring on Gu Lingzhou’s ring finger. “Xingxing, why aren’t you wearing yours?”
“I had Yuxing’s ring sent for maintenance,” Gu Lingzhou said, pulling a small box from his pocket and handing it to his mother. “Mom, Yuxing and I happened to see this while shopping—it felt like it would suit you.”
His mother’s face lit up with surprise. “A gift for me? Thank you—you shouldn’t have.”
She opened it to reveal a pair of high-quality pearl earrings.
“Oh my, thank you, Lingzhou. They’re beautiful.” His mother was enamored with pearl accessories—Gu Lingzhou had definitely chosen well.
Shi Yuxing typed a message asking where he’d gotten it and when he’d gone shopping without him knowing. Gu Lingzhou pressed his phone down, picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork with his chopsticks, and popped it into Shi Yuxing’s mouth. “Your favorite—eat up.”
With his cheeks puffed out, Shi Yuxing gave up and chewed the crispy, tender sweet-and-sour pork.
To any observer, Gu Lingzhou, who had eaten four bowls total, finally set down his chopsticks. Shi Yuxing thought it was a good thing they hadn’t cooked more rice—otherwise, his mother might have signed him up for a competitive eating contest.
“Lingzhou, what have you been busy with lately?” His father stood up, already heading for his tea leaves to brew a pot.
Shi Yuxing wasn’t worried about this Gu Lingzhou slipping up.
“I can’t disclose details, but—” Gu Lingzhou’s gaze swept across everyone in the room before dropping a bombshell: “The Zerg are evolving. We’ve discovered giant burrowing insects, and their claws can easily tear through mechs when they coordinate. I hope you all take precautions—stock up on food and medicine for emergencies.”
Everyone was stunned. Shi Yuxing blinked, mouthing silently: “For real?”
But Gu Lingzhou’s expression was dead serious, not joking. He gave a firm, slow nod. Shi Yuxing’s heart tightened, and he grabbed his sleeve.
Others might not know this Gu Lingzhou’s true identity, but Shi Yuxing did—which meant that in the future, a massive Zerg swarm could very well strike the Imperial Planet. Its prosperity came from its comprehensive military defenses, but other planets had already suffered surprise attacks. If war broke out, the planet would face not only casualties but irreversible ecological devastation—the entire planet could be destroyed.
Natural recovery could take tens of thousands or even hundreds of millions of years—a lonely, endless span. Whatever happened, he didn’t want war on the planet where he was born.
His father motioned for Gu Lingzhou to sit down, his expression grave. “Is this… inside information?”
“Please rest assured—I won’t let the Imperial Planet fall into crisis.” Not a second time. His dark eyes drifted past his father and settled on Shi Yuxing, who was lost in thought.
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