The other master of this house was left behind, out of place amid the warm scene downstairs.
Shi Yuxing tilted his chin up, letting someone wipe his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Gu Lingzhou standing on the second floor, wrapped in a cold, mournful aura. He frowned, and the two alphas followed his gaze.
“Look at him,” Xiao Zhou said. “He’s been like that since he saw us in the kitchen this morning.”
The other, still wearing his apron, withdrew his gaze. He knew what Gu Lingzhou was thinking—he was him. The future version of him. The one who had lost Shi Yuxing.
After finishing his two fried eggs, a few shrimp patties, and the last sip of milk, Shi Yuxing deliberately raised his voice: “I’m heading out.” The man upstairs reacted instantly, his footsteps thundering down the stairs.
Xiao Zhou blinked, catching on. “Wife, you’re letting him drive you?” Receiving Shi Yuxing’s confirmation, he whined, “You never let me drive you before! No fair—I want to take you to work.”
Da Ling, as usual, didn’t fight for it. He cleared the dishes and went into the kitchen.
Shi Yuxing patted the young alpha’s head. “Be good—you can do it next time.” Even so, Xiao Zhou pouted in protest, even glaring at Gu Lingzhou as Shi Yuxing put on his shoes. The moment Shi Yuxing turned around, he put on a pitiful look. “Goodbye, wife. I’ll miss you at home. I’m taking you tomorrow, right?”
Shi Yuxing smiled back, then, ignoring those tearful eyes, mercilessly closed the door.
Tomorrow’s problem could wait until tomorrow.
Gu Lingzhou offered to take his starship to the hospital. Shi Yuxing was about to refuse, but then remembered he hadn’t charged his own after returning last night. The round trip to his parents’ house had probably drained it—it would likely die halfway. He did have other starships, all bought impulsively after the wedding—flashy and extravagant. 24-karat gold ones, limited editions, and others most ordinary workers had never even seen. They sat unused, gathering dust in the basement.
“Fine.”
Gu Lingzhou led the way, and Shi Yuxing followed for a stretch. The distance grew longer, and Shi Yuxing grumbled inwardly. Did this guy park so far away last night to avoid raising suspicion? He eyed the tall figure ahead and clicked his tongue. No wonder I didn’t hear anything—this guy’s way too calculating.
After a ways, Gu Lingzhou suddenly stopped and turned.
Shi Yuxing looked confused. “Don’t tell me you forgot where you parked—we’re practically at someone else’s doorstep.” Gu Lingzhou lowered his gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing. If Shi Yuxing had looked closer, he’d have seen the helplessness in his eyes. “The starship seems to have been towed.”
???
Shi Yuxing’s confusion deepened. He looked around—nothing seemed out of place. “How do you know?”
“I got a notification on my phone when I woke up, but you said you wanted me to drive, so I forgot. Just remembered.”
“…I never said I wanted you to drive.” Shi Yuxing pinched the bridge of his nose, covering his tracks, and turned on his heel. “Fine. We’ll take mine.”
They rushed back, said a quick word to the two at home, and left again. Luckily, Shi Yuxing had a habit of leaving early—despite the minor hiccup and tight schedule, they still had enough time to avoid being late.
The flashy, diamond-encrusted starship roared to life. The two sat in silence, the quiet almost suffocating.
At the first red light, Gu Lingzhou stepped on the brake. “When did you buy this?”
“After you left.” Shi Yuxing stared ahead, lost in thought.
The alpha in the driver’s seat turned to look at him—the beautiful profile, the pale skin, the long lashes. His wife was truly beautiful.
Gu Lingzhou looked down. “Have I disappointed you?”
The unexpected question made Shi Yuxing’s heart clench, nearly letting his true feelings spill out.
Of course—yes, absolutely—at least he’s self-aware.
Gu Lingzhou didn’t wait for an answer and continued: “I can’t cook. I don’t care for you enough. I don’t even know your preferences—only that you like peach oolong fruit tea, the signature steak at ‘Whale’s Song,’ maybe snacks too, or maybe not—I saw you give all the snacks to Chu Xiaoyun. You have tea on your desk, so you probably like that too. Beyond that, I know nothing… I’m sorry—I’m a terrible husband.”
Not as good as his younger self at sweet-talking and coaxing his wife, not as good as his older self at cooking and winning her heart through her stomach.
The moment he’d seen the three of them together, he’d felt lost. Someone had replaced him as his wife’s husband, and was doing it better—because those two were him. One was the simple, youthful him; the other was the gentle, considerate him. Gu Lingzhou realized one thing—he seemed to be inferior to both of them—
“You woke up late.” Xiao Zhou, holding a broom, glanced at him and went back to work. The floor was spotless. Gu Lingzhou couldn’t even find a reason to pick a fight and kick them out.
He walked into the kitchen in silence, only to run into the other one, apron on, already bringing out breakfast plates. The steady gaze fell on him without a word. The older alpha walked past him, set the breakfast on the table, wiped his hands, and looked back at him with a smile that was practically a taunt.
Those eyes held pity. “Go upstairs and call him down to eat.”
As if that was the only thing Gu Lingzhou could do in this house—something anyone could replace. It was the same helplessness as being thrust into the Industrial Revolution of some timeline, where steam-powered looms made hand-spinners obsolete. The only difference was that he wouldn’t suffer physical torture or starvation.
And yet, psychological torment is crueler than physical torture. Those eyes, once enough to command respect from all, now looked fragile and lost—desperate to make amends.
“I’ll learn to cook. I’ll come home every day…”
“The light’s green.” Shi Yuxing spoke, but Gu Lingzhou’s head didn’t turn. It wasn’t until the driver behind them honked in frustration that the intense gaze finally subsided.
The scenery outside rushed past at an unimaginable speed. Shi Yuxing hadn’t expected such a short drive to feel so unbearably long.
“Just keep your eyes on the road, alright?” The starship had automatic collision avoidance and good safety features, but if something did go wrong, he didn’t want to die with Gu Lingzhou.
“Sorry.”
Shi Yuxing folded his hands and leaned back, closing his eyes to rest.
His breathing gradually steadied. He hadn’t slept well last night. The familiar fir scent in his nose wasn’t much different from what he smelled on the other two, yet there was an indescribable shift.
Another red light. Gu Lingzhou turned to look at the sleeping Shi Yuxing, took off his coat, and draped it over him. Shi Yuxing stirred slightly, his thick lashes fluttering before going still again. Gu Lingzhou stared at his lips for a moment, slowly reclined the passenger seat, and gently brushed a few strands of hair from that beautiful face.
…
Shi Yuxing couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep. “Mm~ are we there yet?” He propped himself up, still wearing the coat, a faint woody scent filling his nostrils. A glance at his phone screen told him he was in trouble—five minutes before he would be late. He shoved the coat back at Gu Lingzhou haphazardly. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Gu Lingzhou caught the crumpled bundle, but before he could explain, Shi Yuxing had already jumped out of the starship and run off without looking back. Meanwhile, the silenced phone screen lit up with a flood of messages, most from An Bao. Gu Lingzhou took a moment to call back.
“So you remembered to call back—I thought you were dead!” An Bao’s blustering voice came through, and Gu Lingzhou held the phone away and switched it to speaker.
An Bao was fuming at the police station; other officers watched his non-soundproof office nervously, fearing they might be next. “You’ve really lost your mind! The higher-ups called me directly—you left a mess behind and expect someone else to clean it up?”
“I’ve already arranged the work and handed everything over to headquarters.”
The calm tone only deepened the fury in An Bao’s eyes, sparks practically flying. He gritted his teeth and accused: “Do you think I’m talking about that?!… You’ve grown quite capable, you’re amazing, you’re a hero. The traffic fines are coming to my name—goddammit, you drove my ship last night, and the fines are coming out of my pocket!!! That starship was parked for emergencies. Where did you even get the keys? Did I say you could drive it?!”
Gu Lingzhou traced the steering wheel and answered: “You helped me register my access permissions before.” Unlike the ship he was currently piloting, An Bao’s was a high-end facial-recognition model. You just had to sit in it, and the AI would start up on its own—you could even give it commands for autonomous driving and parking.
Last night, Gu Lingzhou had parked haphazardly and gotten out, his brain nearly fried. He’d completely forgotten to give the AI any commands and left it at some villa’s doorstep. The owner had probably called the traffic department to have it towed.
“Fuck! I’m done with this tech! You—right now!—go to the traffic department and get it back! And I’m deleting your access immediately!”
Gu Lingzhou knew he’d gone too far this time. “I’ll pay the fine too.”
“Tch, what good does that do? The points are already deducted… Heh. The info you wanted on that person—it’s ready. Come pick it up from the station yourself. It won’t wait forever! Click—”
Gu Lingzhou drove straight to the police station and strode into An Bao’s office under the horrified stares of everyone around.
“The file you wanted. Read it yourself.” An Bao tossed the documents onto his desk and lit a cigarette.
Smoke curled upward. Gu Lingzhou glanced at him. “Smoking’s bad for you.”
“Hah, you’ve got nerve saying that. I only smoke one once in a while. If you hadn’t caused this mess, I wouldn’t be taking it out on my own lungs.”
Gu Lingzhou fell silent and pulled out the file. It contained the personal information of “Chu Ke.”
Male, A-class alpha. Father: Chu Qintian. Mother: unknown.
He flipped through the pages, his brows furrowing deeper. “His household registration was canceled three years ago—so why is there a medical record from just a year ago?”
An Bao exhaled smoke, his expression dark. “Someone deliberately erased his trail. The purpose is unclear. Why are you suddenly looking into this person? Could it be that Shi Yuxing…” He misunderstood.
Gu Lingzhou thought of the two versions of himself at home, lowered his gaze, and tucked the file away, his expression serious. “My wife has not betrayed me. Please don’t spread rumors.”
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