Su Ling had always been a straight-A student, a good kid who'd never so much as raised his voice in anger—this kind of brute force, this raw malice, was foreign to him. He stumbled back a step, his hands curling into fists at his sides, fear fluttering in his chest but his chin staying high, his voice sharp and unyielding. "You're being unreasonable! You're crazy!"
Click. Whir. Buzz.
The sound of whirring metal cut through the air, loud and sharp. Square's arm shifted, morphing in the blink of an eye into a particle blaster, the blocky droid stepping in front of Su Ling like a shield, the barrel aimed straight at Su Qingyu's chest. "Admiral's spouse, please select attack intensity. Please issue attack command."
The fruit shop owner scrambled under his counter, his hands shaking so hard he could barely hold on to the table leg. This country bumpkin was a damn tycoon! Please, don't fight in his shop—his little business couldn't take the damage!
Su Ling froze, his brain short-circuiting. This wasn't in the book. Why was Square protecting him? It only took orders from the admiral, right?
"What did you do, you little slut?!" Su Qingyu's face turned purple with rage, his screams loud enough to make the windows rattle. "How dare the admiral's droid protect you? Did you seduce him? Threaten him? That's it, you must've threatened him, you cheap, worthless whore who'll spread her legs for anyone!" He raged, spitting venom, too proud to admit he was scared of the blaster but furious at the slight, at the fact that a nobody like Su Ling had the upper hand.
With Square at his back, Su Ling's courage returned, his mind racing with ideas. He had no interest in fighting with a raving lunatic—he leaned in, his voice low and cold, a quiet threat. "Eldest Young Master Su. Do you want the entire Nalan Star to know about the substitute bride? Think about the firestorm of hatred the Su family will face. Think about what the family head will do to you when he finds out."
Su Qingyu stared at him, his eyes blazing with unbridled anger, his jaw clenched so tight Su Ling could hear his teeth grind, like he wanted to tear Su Ling apart with his bare hands.
Su Ling grabbed Square's blaster arm, lowering it. "Square, let's go." He needed answers—answers from the admiral, about why Square had been ordered to protect him.
As soon as Su Ling was gone, Su Qingyu lashed out, kicking a violet fruit so hard it burst open, its sweet juice splattering the floor. It wasn't enough. He smashed half the shop to pieces before Su Qingxiang finally pulled him away, the younger brother watching the chaos with a lazy, uninterested smirk, not lifting a finger to stop him the whole time.
Su Qingyu was a thug, a brute with none of the grace or dignity a noble family's son should have. Su Qingxiang was a snake, cold and poisonous, even worse than his brother. Su Ling thought glumly as he rode the hovercar back, the whole Su family was a mental asylum, not a single sane person in sight.
Please, god of transmigration, he prayed silently, never let me run into the Su family again.
When the hovercar touched down at the admiral's house, Su Ling stared up at the cold, imposing metal building—and for the first time, it felt like a safe haven.
If it hadn't been for Square, he'd have been beaten black and blue today. Su Ling's heart fluttered, a tiny, warm spark lighting up in his chest. The admiral must have given the order, right? He'd been protecting Su Ling, quietly, in secret.
The thought made him giddy, a silly little smile tugging at his lips. He hummed a random tune he'd made up on the spot and headed straight for the kitchen, determined to make chicken soup—real, warm, hearty chicken soup.
Okay, fine, the "chicken" was only half chicken, some weird space fowl with three legs and iridescent feathers whose name he'd already forgotten. But it was chicken enough for him.
He steamed a silky egg custard, made a creamy fish porridge with tender white fish flakes, and baked a rich, buttery mousse cake for dessert—all nutritious, all easy to digest, all made with fresh ingredients, not the synthetic slop the droids served.
What was the point of the admiral living on nothing but nutrient shots? Sure, they kept his body going, sure they were convenient—but they did nothing for his recovery. No wonder the book said he'd wasted away to a skeleton later on, his once-muscular body nothing but skin and bone. It was a crime, wasting a body that perfect.
He needed real food, fresh food, to build his strength back up—to stand tall again and blind all the villains with how amazing he was.
Su Ling inspected his spread, puffing out his chest with pride. It was perfect, fragrant and colorful, enough to make anyone's mouth water. He split each dish into two portions, loaded them onto a silver tray, and carried it to the admiral's room, his steps light with excitement.
"I'll eat with you," he said, setting the tray down on the floor beside the bed, not even noticing he'd dropped the formal honorifics, not even feeling the nervous flutter in his chest that had plagued him just days before. "Eating alone isn't fun anyway."
He propped a small folding table up on the admiral's bed, arranging the dishes neatly, and when he looked up, he froze. The admiral's eyes were half-lidded, his gaze sharp and cold, a silent threat in every line of his face—don't you dare force me to eat this, or you'll regret it.
Usually, that look would have made Su Ling shrink back, scared. Today, it made him grin, his heart leaping with joy. For the first time ever, he'd read the admiral's eyes perfectly.