The other end of the line was silent for a long time. Gu Lingzhou tilted his head to glance at his phone—still counting. The hand wrapped in bandages brought the phone back to his ear. “Hello?”
“What happened to him!” Master Wang’s voice was urgent, the rustle of a blanket and the patter of slippers audible through the receiver. “I’m so sorry, General—could you tell me what happened? I’ll send you his number right now.”
At the same time, An Bao’s phone rang. The officer casually put it on speaker. “What’s up?”
“Captain, the victim’s name is Tu An. The emergency contact number is busy—we can’t get through.” The speaker was loud enough for Master Wang on the other end to hear.
Gu Lingzhou said calmly, “It’s your apprentice. Come to the hospital. I’m hanging up.” With that, he pressed end.
An Bao’s team member must have overheard something too: “Captain, is there someone with you?”
“Yeah. And they already found Tu An’s emergency contact before you did. Step it up next time.” An Bao ended the call, his eyes landing on Gu Lingzhou’s hand. “Should I have a doctor rewrap that for you? The bandages look dirty.”
Gu Lingzhou looked down. “No need.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket, his other hand covering the bandaged back of his hand. “Is there a mall nearby?”
“Why?”
“To buy clothes.”
·
The surgery light flicked on and off. A few sparrows perched on the magnolia branches outside the window. Shi Yuxing emerged after cleaning up and glanced outside—it was almost dawn.
A hand landed on his arm. Lin Anran steadied him. “Stay steady—don’t collapse like last time. That scared me to death.”
Shi Yuxing pulled down his mask. “You worked hard.”
“Not as hard as the lead surgeon. I was just assisting.” Lin Anran yawned, eyes closing. “Ah~ so tired. I need to catch up on sleep. Aren’t you exhausted?”
Shi Yuxing pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll nap in the office for a bit. Have to work again in a few hours.” This miserable remark made Lin Anran cry out: “Stop—don’t remind me. Why is my life so hard?”
They walked a bit and spotted a robot sitting quietly in the corner.
“Hey—this was just brought in yesterday, did you know?”
Shi Yuxing shook his head, scanning it up and down. Nothing special—a screen on its chest, a pair of cool black sunglasses, mechanical legs bent as if ready to break into a run.
Lin Anran stepped forward and called out: “Little Medical Assistant.”
A pair of electronic eyes appeared on the “sunglasses.” The chest screen recognized Lin Anran, and a mechanical voice chimed in: “Hello, I’m Xiao Yi. How can I assist you?”
“Yuxing, guess how much this thing costs?” Lin Anran rested his hand on the half-human-tall robot’s gleaming white head.
Xiao Yi detected his question, and the screen displayed “Loading…” “I am very expensive. Please do not touch me casually. Please do not touch me casually.” With that, the robot’s arms slowly rotated 180 degrees, brushing against Lin Anran’s hand. Startled, he quickly pulled back.
“Thank you for your cooperation. If you have no further questions, I will now rest.”
Lin Anran walked back to Shi Yuxing and asked Xiao Yi: “If I need an eye exam, which department should I go to?”
“Recommend Ophthalmology under ENT. Registration is in the first-floor lobby. Would you like me to guide you?”
“Hey, look—it’s smart.”
Shi Yuxing had no time to watch him tease the robot. He turned away. “I’m heading back to my office.”
The words “wait for me” hadn’t even left Lin Anran’s mouth when his phone rang. Shi Yuxing glanced over. Lin Anran explained: “It’s my brother calling. Go ahead.”
Shi Yuxing walked alone to his office. He cracked the door open and found the light already on. Pushing the door wider, a faint aroma of food wafted out.
Gu Lingzhou stood with his back to him by the window, gazing out at something. “Gu Lingzhou?” The alpha turned, and when he saw it was him, a soft warmth flickered in his eyes. “Breakfast is on the desk—you must be hungry.” Shi Yuxing’s gaze fixed—when had this guy changed clothes?
A gray shirt paired with a black vest, arm bands cinching his biceps, the taut lines of his forearms exuding strength. Gu Lingzhou stiffened under the scrutiny. Shi Yuxing squinted. “General, why aren’t you in your uniform anymore?”
Gu Lingzhou’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Shi Yuxing caught the faint blush creeping up. He opened the layers of insulated containers. “The uniform got dirty. Eat.”
Two perfectly fried soft-boiled eggs, and a few corn-and-shrimp patties, slightly burnt. He’d eaten these before—they’d always come out golden. Was it the pan’s fault today? Or a different cook? Shi Yuxing’s gaze drifted back to Gu Lingzhou.
“The milk was hard to pack, and the fruit tea shop wasn’t open. Neither was the florist.” Gu Lingzhou rambled on. Shi Yuxing raised an eyebrow. “Who made this?” He already had a good guess. He picked up his chopsticks and speared a piece—slightly burnt, the heat not quite controlled.
“How is it? Good?” Nervousness flickered in Gu Lingzhou’s eyes. Shi Yuxing chewed, then set the rest back in the container, delivering a merciless review: “Not as good as before. Mm—the corn’s too hard, the shrimp’s overcooked, and there’s no shredded cucumber today?”
Gu Lingzhou’s expression dimmed with disappointment. Shi Yuxing couldn’t help but laugh. “You made this, didn’t you, General?” Gu Lingzhou’s face flushed like a child caught in a lie, burning hot. “You could tell?”
“I’ve eaten his breakfast for a month. Besides, he’d never serve me a botched meal—anything even slightly burnt, he’d dispose of himself.” That wasn’t a lie. If a dish turned out less than perfect, it would end up in the other two alphas’ stomachs—he never got the chance to taste it.
Gu Lingzhou’s lashes dropped, his hands clenching. “Sorry. These are the best ones I made.”
Shi Yuxing was in a good mood. He picked up the half-eaten corn-and-shrimp patty and popped it into his mouth. Gu Lingzhou’s face had been downcast just a moment ago, but now his eyes lit up. Shi Yuxing silently observed his reaction as he finished off everything in the container. He smacked his lips, covered his mouth, and let out a quiet burp. “Did you fry the eggs too? Not bad.”
“No.” Gu Lingzhou thought of his future self standing by the stove, watching him ruin the thirteenth egg before finally taking the pan away with a pained, disappointed expression.
Shi Yuxing awkwardly grabbed a tissue, wiped his mouth, and let his eyes wander—landing on Gu Lingzhou’s bandaged hand. “Let me redo the dressing for you.” He found the medical kit and told Gu Lingzhou to hold out his hand.
“…I’ll work on my cooking.”
“Hm?” Shi Yuxing focused on changing the bandages. The brown scabs on his knuckles were healing well. “I don’t think you need the bandage anymore. What did you say?”
“I want to cook for you—so you won’t keep craving someone else’s cooking.”
Shi Yuxing coughed at that. Who told Gu Lingzhou to talk like that? He hurriedly stood up and tossed the used cotton swab into the trash, clearing his throat. “I just remembered—I need to check on the patient’s post-op condition.”
Gu Lingzhou blinked. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”
…
Tu An’s room was crowded. An Bao was going through the standard questioning process. Across from him sat a familiar face. Shi Yuxing squinted—wasn’t that the master who’d come to fix the door? Master Wang had clearly spotted them too. He opened his mouth, but An Bao pulled him back to the interview.
“I let him off early yesterday. In our line of work, we’re on call—no nine-to-five clocking in.”
An Bao: “Has he mentioned anyone following him lately, or any grudges or enemies?”
“No, no. Tu An’s an orphan. He’s only been with me a few years—just turned eighteen. No enemies. I had one when I was younger, but he quit this trade seven or eight years ago. Can’t imagine he’d come after my apprentice.” Master Wang explained.
An Bao nodded and signaled his officer to wrap up the statement. Shi Yuxing only then realized that the patient he’d operated on was the big apprentice who’d come to their house not long ago—the one about Gu Lingzhou’s height. He hadn’t recognized him during surgery, but gland surgery faced the back of the head, so it made sense.
Master Wang greeted them: “General, ma’am.”
Gu Lingzhou spoke: “Our bedroom door is broken. Do you have time in the next few days to fix it?”
Master Wang nodded eagerly: “Yes, yes. Once Tu An wakes up and is cleared, I’ll head right over.”
“No need to rush.” Shi Yuxing thought of the scene last time—the two Gu Lingzhous had nearly gotten caught. He’d have to warn them ahead of time not to scare anyone again.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
Shi Yuxing assumed it was a staff member and opened it—only to find the half-human-tall white robot standing there, steadily holding a nutrient IV bag. The electronic screen displayed: “Hello, I need to place something in the room. May I come through?”
Shi Yuxing stepped aside. Xiao Yi said: “Thank you, Dr. Shi.”
The little robot walked as steadily as an old dog, carefully set down the tray, and slowly made its way out despite everyone’s stares, closing the door behind it.
“Oh, you’ve got this kind of tech at the hospital?” An Bao chimed in.
Seeing no one else respond, Master Wang, wanting to save face for An Bao and also curry favor with Gu Lingzhou, added: “I saw a robot that looked exactly like the General at his place—very lifelike.”
Shi Yuxing’s heart skipped a beat. This was bad.
“You have a robot that looks like you at home?” An Bao perked up. “You never mentioned it. I’ve never seen it.”
Gu Lingzhou frowned. “Robot?”
“Yeah—when I came to fix the door. It could even drink water. High-tech stuff.”
Shi Yuxing silently begged him to stop. An Bao’s gaze shifted from Gu Lingzhou to the sister-in-law, sharp and probing. Shi Yuxing’s expression was strained; he busied himself with the IV bag Xiao Yi had left. Don’t see me, don’t see me…
Gu Lingzhou, seeing his reaction and connecting the dots, immediately understood—the two had been spotted together. Shi Yuxing’s toes curled with anxiety, his heart racing. He should’ve made an excuse and left. Could someone please call him right now?
Just as he earnestly prayed for a divine intervention, the deity appeared—
“There were two robots built to my scale. They broke, so I took them to the scrap yard and got five hundred for them.”
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