Gu Lingzhou arrived through the misty rain. Shi Yuxing watched him holding a small umbrella, a gentle smile on his handsome face—and in that instant, his heart pounded wildly.
“Why didn’t you park in the basement?” Shi Yuxing lifted his pant legs and ducked under the umbrella. The canopy drummed with raindrops, matching his heartbeat. Gu Lingzhou’s warmth pressed close as he wrapped an arm around Shi Yuxing’s shoulder. Shi Yuxing glanced at him from the corner of his eye, suppressing the heat rising to his cheeks. Gu Lingzhou’s smooth forehead curved down to his straight nose bridge. Some unknown light carved his side profile with sharp clarity. His deep eyes looked straight ahead, his thin lips parting slightly: “The rain’s too heavy—the basement might be flooded.”
Shi Yuxing paused, then let Gu Lingzhou guide him forward. “What about the house? Is it okay?”
“The house is fine. I personally supervised the villa’s drainage system.” Only then did he look down at Shi Yuxing. Those tea-colored eyes sparkled as they looked up at him. Gu Lingzhou curved his lips, pleasure spilling from his eyes.
It wasn’t until they entered the cockpit, and the moisture on their clothes was sucked dry by the dehumidifying system, that Shi Yuxing noticed in the rearview mirror a much larger black umbrella clearly visible on the back windshield. He slowly spoke: “You actually just wanted to experience walking in the rain with me, didn’t you?”
The General’s hand on the handbrake paused—then he released it without hesitation. “Mm.”
“And you deliberately chose such a small umbrella.” Shi Yuxing eyed the water stain on his right shoulder, where the military uniform had darkened in a patch. “You’re such a flirt, General… what are you waiting for? Hurry up and drive home so you can change.”
Gu Lingzhou’s heart felt like it had been filled with honey. With a click, he pulled the handbrake back up. Shi Yuxing looked down. “What are you—hey—”
A shadow lunged from the driver’s seat. A weight settled on his shoulder, and Shi Yuxing’s eyes flew wide in terror. The seatback was reclined. Hot breaths intertwined as Gu Lingzhou sucked on his lower lip and bit his upper lip.
The windshield stretched the raindrops into streaks. Shi Yuxing craned his neck, straining to keep any sound from escaping. After a moment, the two sat in their respective seats, disheveled, tidying their messy hair and collars. A red mark had appeared on Shi Yuxing’s neck. He rubbed his numb lips, the moisture at the corners of his eyes no less than the rain outside.
“You really are… randomly in heat.” Shi Yuxing delivered his sharp critique, showing his neck to the rearview mirror and tugging at it with his fingers. Gu Lingzhou pressed down on the accelerator, his lips curling with pleasure.
The passenger side glanced sideways. “I think I should tell you—I ran into An Bao earlier. He said Zerg have appeared.” Gu Lingzhou’s thick brows knit together, their ends fading into his temples like sharp arrows piercing through clouds.
“Mm. I went with An Bao to visit the witness’s home this afternoon.”
Shi Yuxing wasn’t very surprised—after all, they were friends. “Was it the Zerg? Could it be what he said—” The air suddenly fell silent. The wipers swept back and forth; freshly cleared glass was soon dotted with round raindrops again, enclosing their figures in this small space, only to be erased moments later.
Gu Lingzhou said flatly: “We’ll discuss it at home.”
…
The familiar small table meeting. Four people sat around the coffee table in silence. Shi Yuxing looked up and observed the expressions of the alphas, finally concluding:
The alphas looked rather pleasing to the eye.
“The giant bug that appeared in the water early this morning probably ate more than just two people.” Da Ling broke the long silence with certainty. “Definitely more than two. Tell An Bao to check Imperial Planet’s recent dismemberment cases—any unidentifiable limbs, and flush through the sewers to see if body parts come out. That way we can determine when this batch of Zerg arrived on Imperial Planet.”
Gu Lingzhou looked up, his eyes reflecting a reassuring light: “I’ve already told An Bao. Fastest is one day.”
Xiao Zhou: “Why do we need to determine the timing? We can just prepare our defenses and wipe out all these ants that snuck in.”
Da Ling’s gaze darkened as he shook his head. “There are so many defensive satellites around the planet, yet none of them detected their presence. That means… that means their evolved intelligence is nearing that of humans.” After that war, Imperial Planet had launched a new batch of satellites, but the past was already past—what good was mending the fold after the sheep were lost?”
“Of course it’s good.” Shi Yuxing interrupted him, his tea-colored pupils full of seriousness. “Thinking that way is wrong. Mending the fold after the sheep are lost doesn’t bring back the dead souls—but patching that hole means future sheep won’t be taken by wolves. You think those new satellites are just mending the fold after the loss, but you’re alive—maybe precisely because those new satellites went up and gave early warnings, preventing those predatory Zerg from getting close.”
The criticized Da Ling froze on the spot. He looked at this face that should only exist in his memory—still beautiful, still sincere. It was exactly because he’d seen this radiant light in Shi Yuxing back then that he’d agreed to the arranged marriage.
The young master of the Shi family stood tall and proud in front of those nobles who taunted and envied him—even alone, he could make them feel utterly ashamed with his sharp tongue. In the years he’d been away, Shi Yuxing had protected himself just as well, never losing out. Yet this vibrant person had sacrificed himself right before his eyes. He hadn’t protected his wife. He’d once secretly vowed to protect him—and he’d failed.
In the eight years that followed, Gu Lingzhou had once wanted to kill himself. He deserved to atone. But he always remembered—the other had told him to protect the planet and this starry sky, just as he’d sworn on his first day at the military academy—
I will fight until the very end, protecting all the people who love me and whom I love.
This curse, like a shackle, had trapped him for eight years. He’d thought Shi Yuxing must have still hated him to say such a thing—but he’d been wrong. Shi Yuxing had truly wanted him to save and protect these people. The young master of the Shi family who had once caught his eye was never a narrow-minded person—just like the Shi Yuxing of now.
His heart was bound to the universe, burning as bright as a star.
Seeing the man frozen in place, Shi Yuxing waved a hand in front of him. “Hey, wake up. In your timeline, how did they launch their surprise attack?” At this, everyone’s attention focused on the man. His chest rose and fell as he exhaled a breath of stale air and spoke frankly: “From underground. They burrowed in from the dark side of the planet. One group killed people still asleep; another group strategically attacked military and medical facilities, crippling Imperial Planet’s lifelines first. So I tell you—they’ve evolved. Not just their bodies, but their intelligence as well.”
Everyone present drew in sharp breaths. Even Gu Lingzhou, who had seen his share of large-scale events, widened his eyes slightly. He’d never imagined the Zerg could evolve this far. In the past, they either relied on their massive bodies to attack or overwhelmed with sheer numbers. This kind of intellectual evolution was indeed his first encounter. “You…”
“You want to ask how I survived?” Da Ling looked at him. Gu Lingzhou shook his head: “No. I know how you survived.”
He’d survived in the most brutal, most unacceptable way—living a life worse than death.
Xiao Zhou pressed his lips together. “Isn’t the solution just to kill the Zerg Queen? Then we find her and take her by surprise.”
Da Ling nodded. “Yes. Once the Zerg Queen dies, the rest lose their formation. But killing her isn’t that easy—the Queen is the most vulnerable in the entire swarm, so she’s protected by countless Zerg.”
A trace of doubt appeared in Shi Yuxing’s eyes. “Wait—I remember you said before that higher-grade pheromones could more greatly disrupt the connection between the Queen and the other Zerg…” He’d already known the answer, but still asked: “So my pheromone grade—would it be easier for me to disrupt their bond than for you?”
He looked at the three alphas, whose expressions showed surprise. They remained silent. Da Ling and Xiao Zhou both averted their eyes from Shi Yuxing’s burning, probing gaze. Only Gu Lingzhou adjusted himself and met his eyes directly.
Shi Yuxing took a deep breath. He’d actually sensed it all along—including how the 32-year-old Gu Lingzhou had reddened at the sight of him from the very start, including those late-night study gatherings, and including all those tiny, trivial words and breaths. He’d vaguely felt that in the future, he might disappear—which was why these people were so tense and deliberately avoided the topic of pheromone grades.
“Don’t overthink it,” Gu Lingzhou saw through his pessimistic thoughts immediately. He stood up, walked over to the small sofa, leaned against the leather back, and stroked the back of Shi Yuxing’s neck. “The three of us alphas here add up to 3S-class. We’ll definitely beat back the Zerg. Don’t worry—later, call your parents and tell them to stock up on food and water and protect themselves. Tomorrow I’ll check in with An Bao again and report this to headquarters to get them to take it seriously. Nothing’s going to happen.” He repeated silently: I will never let anything happen to you.
·
The night was dark and windy, and rainfall in the city continued to increase. Fragments of neon lights scattered across the ground, eventually gulped down by the gurgling sewers.
Boys and girls in flashy, hot attire laughed and joked, their breath reeking of alcohol. Words flew back and forth, and they sealed the moment with a kiss, clinging to the lingering ambiguity.
The gurgling water seemed to overlap with some other sound, seeping into the dimly lit drainage pipes. The silhouettes of several colossal creatures were indistinct, making sounds identical to the flowing water. Their bodies could occupy two-thirds of the pipe’s space. If they emerged from the sewer openings, the ground above would swell into hills.
“Gurgle… gurgle…” Rustling sounds. Their chewing continued unabated. Their stomachs made sounds like flowing water. Bits of meat fell into the filthy water, quickly washed away.
“Gurgle… gurgle…”
“Gurgle… gurgle…”
No one heard the discordant sounds from the sewer pipes—just as these people likewise didn’t know that a catastrophic disaster had already arrived, and everyone was trapped in a room with no exit, waiting for annihilation.
The rain curtain poured down, cascading from the pipes into the sea, flowing toward an unknown future.
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