The two alphas, worth three hundred silver dollars, sat on the sofa, watching the clock tick monotonously toward ten. Just as they thought they’d have to wait another hour, the sound of a starship engine drew nearer—this time, not passing by or turning into another villa’s basement. It was heading straight for them.
The door lock turned. Xiao Zhou was about to rush forward when he came face to face with a man as tall as him. Gu Lingzhou carried a thermal container in one hand and a large bouquet of magnolias in the other, his gaze sharp as he met Xiao Zhou’s eyes.
Xiao Zhou: “Old… Man Number Two.”
Shi Yuxing, following behind Gu Lingzhou, let out a laugh. Gu Lingzhou didn’t bother bickering with his younger self—he saw the pure reflection of his own past in this eighteen-year-old.
“What’s on the menu today?” Shi Yuxing peered over. Da Ling brought out the insulated dishes with a faint smile. “Braised eggplant, tomato and egg drop soup, sweet and sour spare ribs, and peeled shrimp for you.” Shi Yuxing handed his coat to Xiao Zhou. “So thoughtful—even peeled shrimp.”
Da Ling pulled out a chair with gentlemanly grace. Xiao Zhou chimed in from behind: “We peeled them together—eat up.”
Gu Lingzhou set down the bouquet and wasted no time sliding into the seat next to Shi Yuxing. Xiao Zhou was frustrated but helpless, settling for picking at the shrimp.
A bite of shrimp was fed to Shi Yuxing—tender and fresh, just the way he liked it. Seeing his enjoyment, the three began silently piling shrimp into his bowl. If not for the intensity of their chopstick-clashing, the meal would have been peaceful. Every time Shi Yuxing’s bowl emptied, three pairs of chopsticks would clash above it, filling it with several more mouthfuls.
After too many rounds of this, even the hungriest person couldn’t take such force-feeding.
His bowl clinked faintly as he set it down. Three hands immediately reached for the last dish—the braised eggplant. Shi Yuxing was quicker, grabbing his bowl just in time, leaving three bites of eggplant to fall onto the table. He chuckled. “I’m not eating off the table. You three can have it—I’m full.”
Having worked nearly all day, he finally had time to rest. He declared: “I’m sleeping alone tonight,” then anticipated their moves in advance. “Xiao Zhou, no whining. Da Ling, no picking locks. And you, General Gu—don’t sit on the sofa pretending to be gloomy.”
The three figures who had stood up together froze: “…………”
Shi Yuxing placed his bowl in the sink and set his sights on his goal: he needed to catch up on sleep. Mere mortals and worldly affairs should not disturb his peace. But things didn’t go as planned—the three followed him like the tail of a greedy snake. He stopped mid-step on the stairs, turned back, and said: “You—wash the dishes, you—clean. I’m going to sleep. No interruptions.” With that, he ignored whether they followed or not, headed straight to his room, grabbed clean pajamas, and prepared to shower.
As he passed the broken master bedroom door and opened the closet, a voice came from behind: “Wife, you don’t know how outrageous Old Man Number Two is—he threw out all our clothes. Now the closet’s full of his stuff.”
Shi Yuxing turned. The General had left, leaving only the older and younger versions standing at the door, just like when he’d left earlier.
“He threw out your clothes?” Shi Yuxing was surprised—those were designer brands, money!
Xiao Zhou, aggrieved, continued his complaint: “They’re in the laundry basket—Da Ling washed them, but they’re not dry yet. We’ve got nothing to wear.”
Into the washing machine, then. That was fine—they weren’t silk or cashmere; a wash wouldn’t shrink them. Shi Yuxing opened the closet. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. But when he pulled out a few items, he noticed the arrangement: his clothes and Gu Lingzhou’s were lined up in a one-to-one ratio—
His, Gu Lingzhou’s, his, Gu Lingzhou’s—like a sandwich.
“Yuxing, it’s fine. We don’t go out much anyway.”
“Yeah, bare-chested would work too.” The thought slipped out before he could stop it. Before the two alphas could react, he tossed them a couple of Gu Lingzhou’s new shirts. “Here—you said you have no clothes. Wear these. If you don’t want to, going bare’s fine too.” His gaze dropped, lingering for a few seconds on the lines of their shirts straining over their muscles.
Da Ling adjusted his glasses, a low laugh escaping his nose. He set the clothes on the closet bench. “I’ll stay bare, then.”
The slow-to-catch-on college student finally got it and quickly followed suit: “Then—I won’t take them either.”
“Alright. I’m off to shower and rest. You two get some sleep too.” Shi Yuxing smiled at the two shirts, and as he passed their solid bodies, he gave one of them a pat on the rear before humming his way to the bathroom. Xiao Zhou grabbed his own butt, taking a sharp breath—whatever his wife did was fine by him.
·
The good mood lasted until the next day.
“Yuxing, let’s go—why aren’t you heading to eat?” Lin Anran peered in curiously. Shi Yuxing was alone, no patients left—why wasn’t he leaving?
Shi Yuxing picked up a form from his desk, stood, and walked past him. “Food’s being delivered today. Go ahead without me.”
“Damn,” Lin Anran muttered, watching his receding figure. “One of these days, I’ll have Wu Yang deliver food to me too. If I don’t have a lover, I still have a brother, don’t I?”
Shi Yuxing smiled, stopping at Tu An’s ward door. He knocked, then pressed the handle.
As expected, there was already someone inside—the visitor was Officer An again. On the pristine white hospital bed sat a sturdy figure with healthy wheat-colored skin, his complexion pale and ashen after the surgical trauma, but his eyes still bright. Shi Yuxing held a form in his hand and pulled a pen from his chest pocket. “Officer An, please move aside a moment—I need to check the patient’s gland.”
An Bao stood up. Tu An, dressed in hospital gown, stared at him blankly for two seconds. “Ma’am?”
Shi Yuxing nodded. “At the hospital, call me Dr. Shi. Turn around—let me see the back of your neck.”
Tu An stared at his face, his surprise replaced by nervousness. His body went ramrod straight, fingers curling into fists. An alpha’s gland was a very private thing—though Tu An knew Shi Yuxing was a doctor, being scrutinized by someone so beautiful still made him uncomfortable.
No bleeding. Shi Yuxing made a note and asked: “Any pain? Aside from the gland itself—like your head or spine?” The gland’s nerves were complex, some connected to the brain, others to the spine. A single misstep could cause full paralysis.
Tu An answered crisply: “The gland hurt after the anesthesia wore off these past couple days, but the pain stops after I take the medication.”
Shi Yuxing clicked the pen shut and tucked it back into his chest pocket. “Good. If anything comes up, call a nurse.”
Tu An slowly turned his body. Shi Yuxing walked to the IV stand and adjusted the flow rate slightly. “Don’t clench your hand—it’s dangerous if the blood backflows.” At that, Tu An blushed and immediately relaxed his hand. “Okay. Thank you, Doctor.”
“Officer An, has his face always been this red?” Shi Yuxing finally spared An Bao a glance. Leaning against the wall, An Bao let out a puzzled “Hm?” then straightened up. “Oh—his face was dark red when I came in. I didn’t really pay attention.”
Tu An, flushed dark red, lowered his head—only to be stopped by Shi Yuxing. “Don’t move. Try not to move your head too much. Sleep on your stomach—you know how to use this bed, right? Head goes in the hole, neck facing up.”
Tu An: “I know—I slept like that yesterday.”
“Good. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”
“Don’t rush off, sister-in-law. Stay and listen—my officer went to the bathroom, might be a while.” An Bao took a long stride and blocked Shi Yuxing’s way. Shi Yuxing didn’t know what he wanted, but he stopped anyway.
An Bao pressed him into a chair. “I’m not getting anywhere. You were there for the Chu Xiaoyun case—maybe you have some ideas.”
Shi Yuxing went quiet. Since he was asking for help, he might as well listen.
“Alright, then… Tu An, tell us again—what happened yesterday when you were attacked?”
Tu An looked at the two men, both towering over him, their gazes fixed on him. He grew even more nervous. “I have to say it again?”
An Bao leaned back against the wall. “You stammered so much earlier I couldn’t catch the details.”
“It’s just… the night before last, I got bitten by a bug and couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go to the 24-hour supermarket to buy some insecticide.” He struggled to get the words out, glancing up every now and then. “And then—on the way there, someone hit me from behind and injected me with something. But I was still conscious. I vaguely heard them say ‘big business.’ I forced myself to wake up and ran before they could drag me into the car.”
Shi Yuxing frowned: “What about your gland? Did they hurt it?”
“No. I did it myself. Because they kept saying ‘don’t damage his gland.’ I’d seen news about the gland black market before, so I figured they were after my gland. The injection they gave me had some kind of drug. I realized I couldn’t fight them, so I pulled out my keys and started damaging my own gland.” Tu An sighed. “Sure enough, as soon as they saw me scratching at my gland and bleeding heavily, they ran off.”
“That was reckless of you—taking those back alleys. We alphas are precious too. You need to protect yourselves out there. Set your phone so that pressing the volume button three times calls emergency services.” An Bao quipped.
The patient’s face turned even darker red. Shi Yuxing took a breath. “Officer An, shouldn’t we be focusing on the gland trafficking angle? The Chu Xiaoyun case was similar too—Tang Jue was also an alpha. I suspect it’s the same group, targeting alphas’ glands.”
An Bao’s eyes lit up: “Hey, yeah—we thought of that too. Sister-in-law, you’ve got a knack for police work.”
Shi Yuxing: …Isn’t that obvious to anyone with half a brain?
“But aside from that, there are no leads. He lives in an old neighborhood—the cameras are just for show, broken ages ago. Those people seemed to appear out of nowhere. Frustrating.”
Tu An didn’t know about the other case they were referring to, his eyes darting between the two. Shi Yuxing pursed his lips, tapping his notepad absently. Suddenly, his fingertip froze mid-air.
“Let me ask you—among the people who knocked you out, was there someone called ‘Wuchang’? Or did you see anyone in that group with a bandaged eye?”
A gust of realization swept through the room. An Bao: “Right, sister-in-law—how did I forget about that person?”
Leave a Reply