The windowpanes trembled; Shi Yuxing’s ears rang, unable to process the bombshell.
The three stood in a standoff. Xiao Zhou got up to intervene, pulling them apart. Da Ling’s collar was wrinkled from being grabbed as Gu Lingzhou shouted, “Say that again—who killed them?”
By the time they were separated, Shi Yuxing was drenched in sweat. He’d heard about Gu Lingzhou’s parents—a devoted couple. The tragedy struck the year Gu Lingzhou entered the military academy. His parents had boarded a starship that lost control during a trip, plunging into an abyss with no survivors.
“It was Grandmother.” Da Ling smoothed his collar and adjusted his glasses. A few buttons on his shirt had popped open, exposing his chest. Shi Yuxing knew he shouldn’t stare at a time like this, but his eyes had a mind of their own.
Gu Lingzhou gripped his hand like a lifeline. Shi Yuxing pulled his gaze away. “Alright, alright—let’s hear the full story. Everyone sit down.”
Xiao Zhou was just as overwhelmed as Shi Yuxing. The 18-year-old, still naive, seemed to understand yet also seemed to be playing dumb. “What are you talking about? Grandmother killed Mom and Dad? My parents? My grandmother? Us?” Panic and confusion swirled in his eyes. He wasn’t stupid—he knew what they meant. His gaze darted between the three, his body as cold as if he’d fallen into an icy lake.
Da Ling exhaled, sinking into the sofa. “You’d have found out in a few more weeks anyway. A few weeks after you started school, Mom and Dad had their accident. And later, through a series of investigations, I uncovered who was behind it.”
At thirty, he carried more weariness than his peers—hints of white hair, deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. No one knew what the Gu Lingzhou of this age had been through.
“Grandmother and Grandfather had a marriage of convenience—no real feelings. Grandmother may seem simple, but in this circle, everyone’s a shrewd operator. Mom and Dad were well-matched and genuinely in love, but Grandmother wasn’t satisfied. At one point, she tried to insert an omega between them. It didn’t work. I still don’t know what she was trying to achieve.”
Shi Yuxing’s expression shifted. He remembered that Gu Lingzhou’s parents were widely admired and supported—including by his grandparents. Why would she try to interfere? He glanced at the other two alphas; their expressions confirmed the story.
Da Ling swept his gaze over them, then settled on Shi Yuxing. “Our marriage was also arranged by Grandmother.” Through those dark, bottomless eyes, Shi Yuxing felt a chill run through him.
Fortunately, Gu Lingzhou’s hand was warm. “You really don’t know who Chu Ke is?”
“No. But maybe you’d like to hear what happened after.”
Silence hung in the air, only tiny dust motes drifting.
“I’m certain I came back to protect Yuxing.” His eyes were earnest, his tone firm. “In the near future, the Zerg will breach the Imperial Planet’s defenses. Radar won’t detect them. Their evolution is faster than ever before. Only decapitation can truly kill them, and pheromones can disrupt their communication—the higher the grade, the greater the effect.”
“So that time—you were the one giving orders to my men?” Gu Lingzhou seized on the point with a scoff. “So it was you.”
Shi Yuxing felt the tension spike and barely dared to breathe—how had they started digging up old grudges?
Da Ling ignored the accusation and pressed on: “Grandmother died before I could start a proper investigation. Her subordinates and all the information were wiped out overnight. I suspect that when I returned, I’d also need to uncover the secrets she buried.”
·
Shi Yuxing tossed and turned in the guest room, mulling over the evening’s revelations.
First, Grandmother had planted a mistress between Gu Lingzhou’s parents. It hadn’t worked, so she had them killed. But why? Wasn’t that her own flesh and blood? Then she arranged Shi Yuxing’s marriage to Gu Lingzhou. He’d always wondered about her motive. Though the Shi family was wealthy, they had no official standing—hardly a match for the Gus in terms of status.
Next, a future Zerg war. Shi Yuxing had been prepared for this—Da Ling had already warned them at his parents’ house. After the war, Grandmother would die, taking all her secrets with her.
All the information was like a tattered spiderweb, waiting to be rewoven.
Moonlight filtered through the screen, spilling across his bedding.
Chu Ke—this person was definitely connected to Grandmother. Why else would his record be tucked behind Gu Lingzhou’s photo? And his information had been largely erased, just like the secrets Grandmother buried with her.
The rustle of fabric broke the silence. Shi Yuxing sat up—he needed a drink of water. His slippers scuffed loudly in the dark, empty space. Using his phone as a flashlight, he made his way to the dining table.
The magnolias he’d carried home were now in a vase, emitting a faint, delicate fragrance.
After wetting his throat, he was about to head back when a dark figure appeared on the sofa. “Who’s there?” Shi Yuxing shone the light over. Gu Lingzhou stood up calmly. “It’s me.”
Shi Yuxing touched his pounding chest. The two stared at each other in the dark, like two asteroids crossing paths in the vast galaxy.
“Why aren’t you asleep yet? You scared me sitting there.”
“You wouldn’t let me sleep with you.”
The simple words from Gu Lingzhou carried an absurd weight. Shi Yuxing’s slightly parted lips were speechless—the water he’d just drunk was wasted. The clock on the wall ticked out a sigh, each second hand striking his chest.
When Shi Yuxing didn’t respond, Gu Lingzhou asked, “Want to sit down?”
Sit? Shi Yuxing licked his lips, his gaze sweeping over Gu Lingzhou’s face. “Sit for what? Go to sleep.” With that, he turned to retreat to his room.
Behind him, Gu Lingzhou’s voice followed, pacing unhurriedly in his footsteps: “I can’t sleep without you… Yuxing.” Shi Yuxing heard his name and turned. Both of them stopped at the same time. Gu Lingzhou awkwardly withdrew the hand that had been about to grab his wrist. Shi Yuxing caught the movement and found it a little amusing. “Do you suffer from insomnia every night as a Commander?”
Gu Lingzhou frowned. Just as Shi Yuxing thought the man had gone mute again—
“Mm.”
“Mm?”
Shi Yuxing blinked, dimmed the light on his phone, and leaned closer to Gu Lingzhou. “Are you serious?”
“Mm.”
“Use your words.”
“Insomnia.”
Shi Yuxing leaned in, barely able to make out a flicker in Gu Lingzhou’s eyes—a momentary blankness. His breath stirred the alpha’s lashes. Shi Yuxing chuckled softly. “As a doctor, I think I can help you with that insomnia. Do I need to book an appointment?”
…
The two of them sat on the sofa, their eyes long accustomed to the dark. Shi Yuxing turned off the flashlight altogether. With the only light source gone, his other senses sharpened. He felt Gu Lingzhou’s pulse, hearing his heartbeat quicken. The corner of his mouth lifted. At first, only one of his feet rested on Gu Lingzhou’s thigh, but now he shifted, putting his full weight onto the alpha’s lap.
“Yu…”
“Shh.” Shi Yuxing cut him off. He sat squarely on Gu Lingzhou’s lap, holding his wrist with a serious expression, as if truly listening to his pulse. In reality, only Shi Yuxing knew he was simply teasing the General.
Gu Lingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His other hand slid to Shi Yuxing’s lower back. “Is this how you examine all your patients?”
“Shh. Are you the doctor, or am I?” Seeing through his little game, Shi Yuxing feigned composure as he set down Gu Lingzhou’s wrist—he hadn’t actually felt any pulse at all. He made up his diagnosis on the spot: “Your insomnia is caused by staying up late. The cure is sleeping earlier.”
“But I can’t sleep.” Gu Lingzhou didn’t catch the flaw in his logic.
Shi Yuxing moved to get off his lap, but Gu Lingzhou held him in place. “Just stay here.”
Using the alpha as a human cushion, Shi Yuxing felt two arms circle his waist. With his back to Gu Lingzhou, a head rested on his shoulder, warm breath brushing against his neck—soft puffs, yet heavy.
“I suspected my parents’ deaths weren’t an accident, but I never imagined it would be her… and he was her own son.”
Shi Yuxing looked down. “Actually, I don’t think everything Da Ling says is necessarily true. You two are from different timelines.”
“Why do you call him ‘Da Ling’? Doesn’t that mean ‘darling’?” A sharp, wet sensation traced his ear—Gu Lingzhou had given him a light bite. Shi Yuxing jolted, goosebumps rising. He swatted at him. “Hey! It’s just a nickname. What else should I call them—’husband’?”
“Absolutely not.” Gu Lingzhou pulled him tighter against his chest, sniffing the scent of body wash on his skin. “Only I am your husband.”
Shi Yuxing grumbled internally: You don’t get to decide that—I’ll have as many husbands as I want. He pushed back against Gu Lingzhou’s head. “Alright, time to sleep. I have work tomorrow.”
“Can I join you?” Shi Yuxing’s head ached. Before sleeping, he’d clearly told all three that until the master bedroom door was fixed, he’d sleep alone in the guest room—no one was to come in. Just as he was about to refuse, Gu Lingzhou softly uttered two words: “I like you.”
“What?” Shi Yuxing was thrown by the sudden, out-of-nowhere confession.
“I like you, but I don’t know if it’s love.” Gu Lingzhou’s words fell like hail, catching Shi Yuxing off guard—he just happened to be the unlucky one hit. “You know my family is complicated. Both my grandparents and parents had arranged marriages. But you’ve seen my grandmother—she clearly didn’t love my grandfather, and probably not even my father. The only one who loved my father was my mother… They had an arranged marriage, yet they were deeply in love.”
In the darkness, Shi Yuxing couldn’t see Gu Lingzhou’s face, only hear the low voice by his ear: “You and I were also arranged. I don’t know if I love you—all I know is that I like you, and I don’t want you to have anyone else.”
“Wait, Gu Lingzhou.” Shi Yuxing summoned some strength, broke free, and braced a knee on the sofa, half-straddling him as he looked down.
One set of eyes held surprise; the other held tenderness.
“You’re saying you like me, but you don’t know if you love me?” This reminded him of when he’d asked Gu Lingzhou that very question—so the long silence back then had been the man trying to figure out whether he liked or loved him?
Looking at Gu Lingzhou’s dumbstruck face, Shi Yuxing laughed in exasperation. Fine—then he definitely wouldn’t forgive him easily. Let him figure out whether this “like” was love on his own. Shi Yuxing leaned down, his nose brushing past Gu Lingzhou’s ear—the alpha’s body went rigid, his muscles tensing beneath the fabric.
“If you can’t tell the difference,” he whispered, sliding from Gu Lingzhou’s ear to the corner of his mouth, landing a feather-light kiss.
Just then, the entire living room blazed with light. Shi Yuxing flinched—if not for Gu Lingzhou’s hand steadying his waist, he might have fallen.
“You’re sneaking bites behind our backs!” A roar came from the second floor.
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