The scene felt familiar—one might say these alphas were all the same person, equally adept at kneeling.
The ringing in his ears gradually subsided. Fresh air rushed in, and the sounds of the world became clear again. Gu Lingzhou gripped his pant leg, his knuckles protruding. Shi Yuxing vaguely felt that if he didn’t explain himself clearly now, he might never get the chance to explain at all. “I didn’t mean to divorce you,” Gu Lingzhou looked up at Shi Yuxing’s figure. “I never said divorce. What I meant was—if you’re afraid, you can hide. I’ll bear all the ugly rumors myself.”
This time, Shi Yuxing heard clearly. After a moment, he sniffled, pressed his lips together, and looked at the person supporting his arm beside him. “I’m tired. I want to go back to sleep.” With that, the two alphas took the order—one crouched down for him to climb onto his back, the other reaching out to steady his back. Gu Lingzhou let go of his pant leg, at a loss. The kneeling dog of a man scrambled up and followed along, watching Shi Yuxing’s trembling, sobbing breaths against the other’s back.
It wasn’t until Shi Yuxing lay on the soft bed that the sobbing finally subsided. Da Ling tucked him in, glanced at the man kneeling by the bed, and gave him a kick. “If you’re going to kneel, do it farther away. Don’t disturb his sleep.”
Xiao Zhou brought a cup of water with a straw to Shi Yuxing’s lips. Shi Yuxing took a few sips, then pushed it away with his tongue and closed his eyes.
The cup was placed on the nightstand. Xiao Zhou said indignantly to Gu Lingzhou: “It’s all your fault wife lost so much water.” With that, he also gave him a kick, imitating Da Ling. The man on the floor sat unmoving, like a meditating immortal—only his eyes were fixed on the person in bed, staring blankly at his side profile.
Neither alpha forcibly dragged Gu Lingzhou away. They both agreed it was only right for him to kneel there and wait for Shi Yuxing to wake up. Finally, under Xiao Zhou’s resentful glare, Gu Lingzhou remained on the master bedroom floor.
Shi Yuxing had expended such explosive energy storming out earlier—by all logic, he should be in a state of mental blankness with drowsiness washing over him. Yet at this moment, he was unusually clear-headed, his eyeballs rolling beneath his thin eyelids where veins were visible.
Maybe the blanket was too tight. After a moment, a faint, stifling heat broke out on his back, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Or perhaps it was because of that very intense, impossible-to-ignore gaze licking at his face, causing his body to feel sticky and hot. Shi Yuxing didn’t bother to figure out exactly why he was sweating. He pulled his hands out from under the blanket and continued lying there with his eyes closed.
The quiet atmosphere amplified his hearing—the air currents his hands stirred when he pulled them out, the vigorous heartbeat between each inhale and exhale. Only now did he truly settle down and think: had he misunderstood Gu Lingzhou just now?
—”Maybe… we should separate for a while…” Those pitch-black, clear pupils reflected his face, like a cage trying to lock him inside—filled with adoration, obsession, and sorrow, but not a trace of heartlessness or coldness.
That heavy blow had left his ears ringing, his head aching as if pierced by knives. Those words had pulled out a nerve ending and viciously pierced it through with a needle, making his eyes well up. Seeing him like this, Gu Lingzhou frantically reached out, murmuring: “Baby, don’t cry. That’s not what I meant.” But Shi Yuxing hadn’t heard a thing—he could only see the other’s lips moving through the cascading pearls. His anger surged to the forefront, and the string called reason snapped for the first time. Before he could even react, his hand had already flown out.
The tingling numbness in his palm perfectly matched the red mark on the face before him. Gu Lingzhou didn’t bother covering his own wound—he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for Shi Yuxing’s arm, his taut lips revealing his tension: “Does your hand hurt?”
Shi Yuxing retreated until his back hit the door. The metallic taste in his throat and the saltiness of his tears mixed together, weaving an impenetrable cocoon that locked him inside. He wanted to curl up in that small space and never come out—just like on their wedding night, hiding under the soft blanket and sleeping for three days and three nights.
“Baby, let me explain. Baby, I didn’t—” Fingers inches away were about to touch his eyelids. Shi Yuxing swatted them away. He was now like an enraged lioness protecting her cubs, ready to claw anyone who came near. The ringing in his ears persisted—Shi Yuxing couldn’t hear a word Gu Lingzhou said, only felt the door behind him being pounded. He didn’t even remember what he’d screamed, only knew his throat hurt, as if he’d lost his voice.
In that cramped space, the anxiety in Gu Lingzhou’s eyes was about to burn through the entire starship, his breathing rapid: “It’s not a breakup. I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle the online public opinion. You can hide—don’t worry about anything.”
Shi Yuxing tasted the complex bitterness on his tongue, speaking slowly and deliberately: “Before, you were happy when I said in front of Wen Lan that I wouldn’t divorce you. And now you’re rushing to divorce me? You have no conscience. You’re worse than Wen Lan. Get lost!” These words pierced Gu Lingzhou’s heart, his eyes burning with tears he barely held back: “No divorce. I can’t bear to divorce you. I love you—can you hear me? I love you. My heart is all yours. Have you forgotten? Yesterday, the day before, and the days before that—I kept saying I love you, I like you, baby.” Shi Yuxing caught only fragments through the intermittent sound, but he still picked up some key words. His proud, unyielding face fell, his chest heaving violently.
“You won’t leave, fine—then I will!”
…
Shi Yuxing quietly swallowed—it hurt. Just now, he’d been too worked up. Gu Lingzhou must have hurt a lot too, right? He’d slapped him several times.
His breathing suddenly grew heavier. Shi Yuxing cracked his eyes open just a sliver to peek at the situation by the bed. Gu Lingzhou stood ramrod straight, hands naturally hanging at his sides, like a soldier being punished—standing at attention as if his lower body had been cut off. There was a slight protrusion at his chest. Shi Yuxing thought of the ring hidden near his nipple.
“Pfft—snort…”
Shi Yuxing: “…………” Damn—he’d accidentally let out a laugh.
He hastily turned his back to Gu Lingzhou, letting out two unconvincing coughs to cover it up, pretending he’d just choked in his sleep. The arched curve of his back clearly showed the outline of his spine. The person behind him moved. The next second, a warm hand pressed against his back, gently patting it rhythmically. Shi Yuxing gradually relaxed, catching his breath before propping himself up and turning around—meeting Gu Lingzhou’s gaze.
The alpha froze, blinking. “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” It was as if the fight and the cold war of the past hour had never happened.
Shi Yuxing held back the stinging in his eyes and said in a hoarse, grating voice: “Water.”
His already damaged voice had been shredded further by his outburst, barely able to hold itself together. That ethereal, broken tone made Gu Lingzhou bring him water and then check his neck. “Does your throat hurt? Nod or shake your head.” Shi Yuxing obediently nodded, his eyes lowered, unable to look at him.
“I’ll get you some medicine.” Gu Lingzhou stood up, stumbling two steps—clearly his legs had cramped up. Shi Yuxing’s lips twitched upward, then he quickly suppressed it.
Before getting into bed, he’d just rummaged through the medicine kit and taken a strip of birth control pills. The kit was still open. Gu Lingzhou found the lozenges, read the instructions, and—afraid of giving the wrong medicine as a non-doctor—turned to ask him: “Are these cooling lozenges for sore throats?”
Only after seeing the person in bed nod did he stumble back over.
The sweet taste dissolved along with the medicine. Shi Yuxing held the candy-like lozenge in his mouth, lying on the pillow with half-lidded eyes, glancing at him from time to time. Gu Lingzhou reached out to ruffle his hair, paused for a few seconds, and was about to withdraw his hand when Shi Yuxing leaned into it. His hair was soft, like the fur of some fluffy feline.
“Sleep a little more. I’ll be right here.”
“Your pheromones are choking me…” His overused voice came out as breathy whispers, carrying faint crackling sounds. If before he’d sounded like Donald Duck, now he was a Donald Duck on his last breath.
Gu Lingzhou had to press his ear close to his lips to barely make out the words. “Alright, baby, don’t talk. Rest well—or by next Monday, you’ll become a mute doctor.” With that, he moved his hand to Shi Yuxing’s forehead. Fortunately, no fever.
Shi Yuxing’s tea-colored eyes shimmered with a hint of seduction. Gu Lingzhou froze on the spot. The two fell silent in the air thick with magnolia and fir. After a long moment, Gu Lingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t want to divorce you. What I said earlier—you misunderstood. I meant—” His words were cut off by his phone on the nightstand. An unknown number. Shi Yuxing lifted his chin, signaling Gu Lingzhou to answer it for him.
“Hello? Who is this?” Gu Lingzhou’s eyes were wary. A breath came from the other end, followed by An Bao’s roar. Gu Lingzhou held the phone away and put it on speaker.
“You were supposed to pick me up! Where are you?!!! Urgent matter! A major intel, understand?! And you dare hang up on me and turn off your phone? Do you know the despair of not being able to find you—the internal network says I don’t have permission to search for military family members?! Do you know how long it took me to track you down? Tu An got Shi Yuxing’s number from Dr. Lin. Get to the police station right now!”
Gu Lingzhou glanced down at the obediently watching man. “I’m busy right now.”
“Busy or not, you’re coming! I know exactly what situation you’re in—day seven of your rut, still in the throes of passion—but General Gu, your rut leave is over now! Sister-in-law! Where’s sister-in-law? Put Dr. Shi on!”
“He’s lost his voice.”
“…” A moment of silence on the other end, then a curse: “Holy shit, you goddamn beast!”
Shi Yuxing silently nodded—seven days and six nights was indeed pretty beastly.
“Listen, this is important. I’ll make it brief—we’ve raided a black-market organization. Some of the members have been arrested, others are on the run. At the same time, we know who the leaders of this organization are. I need you to come down here in person so we can have a proper discussion. Once that’s settled, we can resolve this. Otherwise, in a few days, you can say goodbye to your General title!”
Gu Lingzhou and Shi Yuxing’s brows twitched simultaneously. A foreboding feeling arose. Shi Yuxing scrambled up. Even though he couldn’t speak, he mouthed silently to Gu Lingzhou: “Is it Grandmother?” After repeating it a few times, he pointed at him and then at the phone—the meaning was clear: ask him.
Seeing him regain his energy, Gu Lingzhou curved his lips and stood up. “I’ll be there.” With that, he hung up and walked to the door.
Shi Yuxing hadn’t expected him to actually leave just when he couldn’t speak. Fuming, he pounded the blanket in place. Gu Lingzhou paused at the doorway for a few seconds, his hand on the handle, lingering for a moment before saying: “I’m going out. Wait for me to come back, baby.” Shi Yuxing let out a “hmph” and rolled into the blanket, covering his head—the blanket instantly becoming a giant steamed bun. Gu Lingzhou sighed softly, quickly turned back, and kissed him through the bun. “Sorry I can’t stay. I’ll explain everything when I come back tonight. No divorce, no breakup, no separate rooms.”
The giant bun moved slightly. With a soft click of the lock, the room was left with only Shi Yuxing—but the entwined scents of two pheromones declared that the other owner would always be present.
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