It was the first time the General had spoken to him. Su Ling froze, his hands stilling, staring at Pei You in shock. "Huh?"
Pei You had thought long and hard about this. If Su Ling had no ties to the other military families, if he was just a random kid caught in the crossfire—then for all his care these past few weeks, he'd let him go. No need to dig into his secrets, no need to question his motives. Su Ling was like a green sprout that had fallen by chance onto a wasteland, no one knowing what kind of plant he was, no one knowing why he was there. But one thing was clear: Su Ling, with his bright, unquenchable life, didn't belong here. This wasteland had no soil for him to grow in. So he'd let him go, let him bloom somewhere he could thrive.
Pei You pushed down the messy, unnameable feeling in his chest, his voice flat. "We'll get a divorce. How much alimony do you want?"
Su Ling's eyes lit up, wide and bright, his face breaking into a huge, alive smile, excitement bubbling out of him. "Really? You mean it?" He hadn't done anything to deserve it, and he had no idea how much to ask for anyway. He didn't want to get tangled up in the protagonist's messy story, his messy feelings. The chance to leave—his first thought was pure, unbridled joy.
Pei You hated seeing that excitement, closing his eyes and grunting a single "Mm."
Su Ling looked at Pei You's face, at the loneliness etched into every line. He was alone, with only robots for company. That kind of loneliness—was it any different from his own, a soul adrift in a foreign world? And the General had it worse. Paralyzed, in constant pain, forcing himself to starve, to refuse water. If he left, the General would have no one—no human warmth at all.
A wave of pity, soft and sharp, washed over Su Ling. He leaned in, his voice quiet. "Do you hate me? Do you want me to go?"
Pei You's eyes flew open, shock plain on his face—he'd forgotten to hide it. He couldn't stand looking into those clear, honest eyes, his lids drooping as he spoke, cold and detached. "I'm not getting better. Sunlight, massages, food—it's all useless. You don't have to waste your time."
Su Ling's chest ached, a dull, sour pain. The doctors had given their verdict. Everyone who knew about his condition thought he was a lost cause, left to rot away alone. But there was a fire in Pei You's chest, one that forced him to be rational, to hold on, to take everything life threw at him in stride. He didn't know he'd get better one day. So much fear, anxiety, despair, worry, hopelessness—they must all be there, buried under that cold exterior. He wasn't being cold to him. He was being cold to himself.
And even then, he was letting him go. He was a good man. A hero who'd fought to protect his home, a man with principles, with dreams, with ambition—of course he was a good man. A great one.
Su Ling grabbed his hand, his fingers wrapping tight around Pei You's, like he could pour his strength into him through their touch. "General, it's not the doctors who decide if you get better. It's you." He squeezed his hand, his voice fierce with conviction. "You know what? Some people with terminal illnesses travel the world, and their hearts heal, and their bodies follow. Medical miracles happen all the time. Why can't you be one of them?" He set his jaw, stubborn. "I'm not giving up on you. Not ever."
There was nothing but pure, unshakable honesty in his eyes. Pei You had never imagined anyone would have more faith in him than he did in himself. Since he'd been hurt, he'd clung to his willpower like a lifeline, forcing himself to stay calm, to not let the pain break him, to not let his hatred consume him. There were moments of doubt, moments of fog, moments where he thought the only reason he was alive was to get revenge.
And now, when everyone else had given up, someone was standing in front of him, saying those two words—not ever—like they were a promise carved in stone. He'd never known words could make a person feel so warm.
But it was only for seven months. Pei You pulled a bitter, mocking smile, his voice rough and hoarse, like it was scraped raw by fire. "Your 'not ever' has an expiration date. I don't want it."
Su Ling had no answer for that. He couldn't exactly tell the General that his true love was going to show up in seven months, and he needed to step aside for the main plot, could he? He frowned, his face creased with worry, and Pei You's heart softened a little. The little guy had his own life to live. He didn't have feelings for him—he just felt sorry for him. And Pei You didn't want his pity.
"Go. Back to the Su family, to another planet, wherever you want. I'll give you enough alimony to live on for the rest of your life. You won't have to worry about money." Pei You's throat was dry, a thought niggling at him—no more honey water to moisten his lips. "And you can take Fangfang with you."
"Fangfang? You're giving me Fangfang?" Su Ling was quick to change the subject, not wanting to talk about the seven months anymore. "You're worried about my safety, right? That's why you're giving me Fangfang. And you call him Fangfang too! I told you the name was good, didn't I?"
Pei You had no idea how the conversation had veered to Fangfang, but he didn't pull it back on track.
"I don't care what you say—I'm a man of my word. A deal's a deal." Su Ling let out a small laugh, his hands going back to massaging Pei You's muscles, working them hard. "Can we talk about my salary, though? How do you think I've been doing? Any room for improvement?"
"Short on cash?" Pei You's eyes darkened, a quiet admission in his chest—he wanted Su Ling to stay. No matter what his motives were, as long as he had nothing to do with that battle, as long as he wasn't sent by the Xie family, he could live with it. Because he craved that small bit of warmth, that small bit of life Su Ling brought with him. And he'd given him the chance to leave. If Su Ling chose to stay, he'd never let him go again.
"You haven't paid me yet!" Su Ling gave him a sweet, pleading smile, his fingers kneading Pei You's shoulder. "The Su family didn't give me any money. I only have 267 credits in my brain pad." It was the first time he'd ever asked anyone for money, his head dropping in embarrassment. "Can you advance me some of my salary? Please?"
Pei You stared at him, his eyes unblinking. Fangfang had access to money for Su Ling—he'd made sure of it. But every time Su Ling wanted to buy something, he'd come ask Pei You first, even when he couldn't speak. Was he trying to draw a line between them? To keep things strictly professional?
"How much do you need? What for?"
"A mattress. 2388 credits." Su Ling answered without hesitation. He'd had his eye on it for weeks, dreaming about it every night.
Pei You nodded his agreement. Su Ling tentatively asked about his salary again, but Pei You's mood soured, and he stayed silent. Su Ling retaliated, pinching Pei You's muscles hard—twice. A shiver ran up Pei You's spine, from his shoulder to his heart, his eyelashes fluttering, sweat beading on his forehead, the tips of his ears turning pink. His mind went blank, the sweet scent of orange and coconut milk wrapping around him, making his throat dry.
Su Ling's nose was plugged, so he didn't smell a thing—but a wave of exhaustion washed over him, his eyes growing heavy. He massaged Pei You's muscles, his movements slowing, until his head dropped forward, and he fell asleep, his body pressed against Pei You's.
Pei You looked down at him, his heart skipping a beat as Su Ling nuzzled his chest, soft and warm. He's faking it. Pheromone inhibitors couldn't block a perfect match—not like this. Their scents were mixing, wrapping around each other, a feeling of peace and relaxation that seeped into every bone. It was basic omega-alpha knowledge. Su Ling had been pretending to be a beta for years, fooling everyone—he couldn't possibly not know this. Was he doing it on purpose? Exposing his omega side for Pei You to see?
Could it be—he was in love with him? That all this care, all this closeness, was just him trying to seduce Pei You? Then why the contract? Oh, right. The contract was completely unenforceable. Worthless. He'd given him the chance to leave, but he'd stayed. He took care of him, held him, kissed him, touched him—if that wasn't love, what was it?
If he liked him, why all the games? Why be so obvious about it, so stupid that Pei You could see right through him? He didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. Pei You's gaze was complicated, his body relaxed, like he was lying on a cloud of cotton candy, the sweet scent of orange and coconut filling his nose. For the first time in months, he slept through the night, no pain jolting him awake, no nightmares haunting him.
Su Ling slept well too, dreaming of the beach, of lying on a lounge chair covered in sea salt foam, the sun on his skin, a tall pine tree standing beside him, like a shield, warm and safe.
When he woke up the next morning, he found himself wrapped around Pei You like an octopus—his face flushing bright red in an instant.