Su Ling's ears were still pink with embarrassment, his mind stuck on the admiral's broad, muscular chest. Why couldn't he have a build like that? All stick-thin arms and legs, it was just plain unfair!
He stumbled after Square in a daze, the droid leading him to the dining room. On the stark white table sat a bowl of congee, five tiny pastries, two cold side dishes, a glass of honey water, and a small bowl of fresh fruit—all laid out neat as a pin.
Su Ling slid into a chair, and Square's dim light screen flickered to life, a holographic news feed popping up in the air between them, headlines scrolling by in bright blue text.
He knew this spread by heart; it was the admiral's usual breakfast, down to the last pastry. Droids didn't have free will, no creative bone in their metal bodies—this was the admiral's order, plain and simple.
But the original Su Ling had never gotten this treatment. Not a single crumb.
Su Ling chewed on the thought, a pastry halfway to his mouth. The original had stormed into the admiral's room the very first night, screaming and yelling, calling him a curse, a burden, a waste of space who should've died on the battlefield instead of dragging someone else down with his broken body. Su Ling, though? He'd been calm, compliant, no rage, no resistance. And now he had a warm breakfast waiting for him.
Maybe the silence wasn't anger. Maybe the admiral wasn't out to get him, not this substitute bride he'd never asked for. For the first time since he'd woken up in this body, Su Ling let himself believe he might actually make it out of this alive.
He took a big sip of honey water, grinning to himself—then immediately crinkled his nose, the sweetness so thick it made his throat itch. "Square? Can I get a glass of plain water, please? This stuff's sweeter than a star candy stand."
"One moment, Admiral's spouse." Square didn't hesitate; the master had ordered all of the spouse's basic needs be met, no questions asked.
Su Ling picked at his breakfast while he badgered Square into teaching him how to use the optical brain— a sleek, band-shaped device that wrapped around his wrist, holding every scrap of his identity, his credits, his comms, his life. It was like a phone, ID, and bank account all rolled into one, indispensable in this galaxy. Lucky for him, it was stupidly intuitive, easy enough for even a newbie from Earth to figure out.
The holographic news feed blared to life, cutting through their quiet lesson. "Welcome, everyone, to the Su family's official press conference."
Su Ling froze, yanking his optical brain off his wrist and setting it down hard, his eyes snapping up to the hologram.
Su Mingfeng, the head of the Su family, stood on stage in a sharp black suit, his hair slicked back in a severe style that made his sixty-odd years look like forty. His voice was smooth, practiced, as he spoke to the camera: "Thank you all for your concern these past few days. I'm happy to announce that a member of our family and Admiral Pei You were married yesterday, as planned."
He folded his hands in front of him, bowing his head slightly, his eyes swimming with fake sorrow, his tone thick with sincerity. "Given the admiral's current health, we chose to keep the ceremony private. We hope you'll understand."
Su Ling's jaw tightened, his fork clinking against his bowl. Private? That was one hell of a euphemism for sneaking a beta bride into the admiral's house in the dead of night, like she was something to be hidden, something shameful.
"We share your deep concern for the admiral's recovery. For years, Admiral Pei You has stood on the front lines against the Zerg, protecting our home, our people, putting his life on the line every single day with no thought for his own safety. He slayed the Zerg Queen to save Nalan Star—and paid the price for it with his body." His voice rose, passionate, fiery, and the comment section on the hologram exploded, a flood of messages scrolling by so fast Su Ling could barely read them.
Admiral Pei You, our hero! Our god of war! We love you!
Praying for your recovery, admiral! Never give up!
Take good care of him, Su young master!
Wishing the admiral and his new spouse a happy life together!
I'll pray for you every night, admiral. You'll walk again!
Su Ling had grown up in a time of peace, no wars, no Zerg, no heroes fighting for their lives on distant battlefields. He didn't fully understand this raw, unbridled adoration, this fierce loyalty—but he felt it anyway, a warmth in his chest, a fire in his veins that made his heart race.
They were right. The admiral wouldn't stay down. He'd fight, he'd heal, he'd stand again, stronger than ever. And Su Ling would be right there with him, taking care of him, making sure he had everything he needed to win that fight.
Su Mingfeng's eyes glistened with fake tears, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles whitened, his voice shaking with performative grief. "The Su family will spare no expense, no effort, to heal Admiral Pei You. Whatever it takes—whatever the cost—we will do it."
Su Ling's blood boiled. What a load of empty words, a sickening show of fake kindness! If the Su family cared so much, why hadn't they visited? Why hadn't they sent the best doctors in the galaxy? Why had they humiliated him with a substitute bride, a beta no one cared about, just to save their own skin? It was all because the admiral had no family, no clan to back him up—they thought he was weak, easy to push around. Well, they'd regret it. When the admiral recovered, when he stood tall again, the Su family's name would be mud, their reputation in tatters. Su Ling could almost taste the sweet, sweet satisfaction of it— a front-row seat to the ultimate comeuppance, way better than reading it in a book.
"And in honor of all our brave soldiers, the Su family has developed a new single-person combat vehicle—one designed to keep them safe, to help them win." A sleek, deep blue vehicle appeared on the hologram, its lines sharp and elegant, a mix of understated luxury and deadly power. A product manager stepped forward, launching into a long, detailed spiel about its features, its firepower, its state-of-the-art tech.
Su Ling loved sci-fi, loved all the crazy high-tech gadgets of this galaxy—combat vehicles included—but he flicked the channel without a second thought, his lip curled in disgust.
Not only did they disrespect the admiral, humiliate him, use him as a pawn—they were profiting off his injury, using his name, his heroism, to sell their stupid toys. How could the Su family be so cruel, so greedy? Was money all that mattered to them? Would they lie, cheat, manipulate, do anything as long as it lined their pockets? It made his skin crawl, his stomach turn.
He grumbled to himself for a minute, his breakfast forgotten, then a thought hit him, cold and heavy, settling in his chest. He turned to Square, his voice quiet, tight with worry. "Square… does the admiral watch the news? Does he see this?"
"Affirmative."
Su Ling's chest ached, a sharp, stabbing pain. He was just a stranger, an outsider, and even he couldn't stand the Su family's hypocrisy. What must the admiral be feeling? Seeing the people who'd wronged him, who'd used him, parading around on the holonet, pretending to care, making money off his suffering… dont even want to imagine it.