"A beta getting to marry Admiral Pei You? You're the luckiest damn person in the galaxy. And if you dare breathe a word of this little arrangement to anyone, you know exactly what'll happen to you." The Su family steward's voice dripped with that sickly sweet sarcasm that makes your skin crawl.
Su Ling's head hung low, his too-long hair shielding half his face—only a sharp, gaunt jawline visible to the world. He was dressed in a crisp white suit, the fabric swimming on his small frame, making him look even more fragile, like a bird with a broken wing.
"I'm talking to you! Stay in line, got it? Do you hear me?" The steward stood tall, nose in the air, not even deigning to look Su Ling in the eye, like he was nothing more than a speck of dust on his polished boots.
"Got it." Su Ling's voice was quiet, muffled, like his words were stuck in a pillow.
The steward's face twisted in disgust, waving a hand like he was shooing a stray cat. "Get out of my sight. Useless waste of space."
Su Ling turned and walked toward the hovercar, his only wedding dowry a beat-up housekeeping droid trailing at his heels.
No ceremony. No guests. No wedding gifts, no well wishes… In the pitch-black of the night, Su Ling was married off, quiet as a shadow slithering through an alley.
Not a single member of the main Su family showed up. Only a handful of servants lingered behind, "seeing him off" with sneers in their voices.
"Admiral Pei You's the strongest alpha in the whole damn sector—young, gorgeous, the stuff of everyone's wildest fantasies."
"Who cares if he's paralyzed? Bet this little slut's already chomping at the bit to climb on top."
"Hahaha! An admiral in name only—who even knows if he's got any fight left in him down there!"
"All look, no bite. Bet his bed's colder than a space rock… and his new bride's gonna be planting greenery on his head real soon. Hehe."
"Look at him scurrying! Can't even wait to get hitched, the shameless little brat. Begging for a man, that's what he is."
The hovercar door slid shut with a hiss, cutting off the servants' jeers. Su Ling's hands curled into tight fists, his cheeks burning hot with shame and anger.
Alone in the quiet of the hovercar, he finally understood a sliver of what the original Su Ling had been through—this body's old self, the one whose life he'd stolen.
Yeah, Su Ling was one of the poor schmucks who'd been yeeted into a book after dying. He'd just graduated high school, aced his college entrance exams, had his whole future laid out in front of him like a bright new star map… then an accident snuffed it all out, and next thing he knew, he was in this messed-up omegaverse galaxy.
He was sitting there, a stranger in a strange body, and the first thing he had to do was marry a paralyzed war hero who'd end up killing the original him. Talk about drawing the short straw in the cosmic lottery.
Admiral Pei You had been injured in a recent battle against the Zerg—full-body paralysis, nothing but his eyes could move, a statue trapped in his own skin. His original fiancé, Su Qingluan, the omega who'd been his perfect genetic match, had bailed the second she heard he'd never walk again, screaming about calling off the engagement. But Pei You was the savior of Nalan Star, the man who'd pushed back the Zerg hordes and saved the entire star system. The net was flooded with prayers for his recovery, everyone singing his praises like he was a god.
The Su family didn't dare say no to the engagement—not with the whole galaxy watching. So they'd huddled up, cooked up this dirty little plan, and picked the most unwanted member of the family to be the substitute: a beta, the original Su Ling. Sneaked him off in the dead of night, married him off like a secret, like he was something to be hidden in the dark.
The original Su Ling had been a bitter, jealous thing—vain, cowardly, too scared to fight back against the pain life threw at him, so he'd seethed and cursed in silence. Forced into this marriage with Pei You, he'd taken every cruel, petty revenge he could think of on the helpless admiral. And in the end, the story's true protagonist had come to save Pei You… and the original Su Ling had died a messy, painful death, his body left to rot in some forgotten corner of the galaxy.
Su Ling's stomach twisted into a tight knot. He'd never lay a finger on the admiral, never stoop to the original's evil tricks—but he had no clue if he could change the fate written in the stars. One thing was for sure: he had to get a divorce before the admiral recovered, or he'd be a goner.
He turned to stare out the hovercar window. Towering skyscrapers scraped the dark sky, hovercars zipping past in a blur of light, not a single blade of grass or bloom of a flower in sight. Everything was cold, everything was foreign—like he'd stepped into a metal tomb that breathed.
The buildings thinned out, and the hovercar touched down in front of a massive, ironclad metal gate, its surface scarred like it had weathered a hundred wars… hell, I dunno, like someone forged it from the ashes of a battlefield and bolted it shut with starship parts.
"Admiral's spouse, unit YD3571972408 at your service." A flat, mechanical voice boomed from a blocky humanoid droid, its eyes flickering with a dull blue light. "Follow me."
That title hit Su Ling like a punch to the gut. He blinked, then mumbled a quiet thank you, falling into step behind the droid.
The house was massive—close to two thousand square meters of cold, gunmetal gray metal walls and black steel furniture, the air thick with a solemnity that felt like a funeral. Not a single decoration to mark a new marriage, not a single sign of warmth anywhere.
This wasn't a home. It was a iron coffin, welded shut and dropped into the void. Su Ling thought, trailing the droid, that living here long enough would turn even the warmest heart into a hunk of metal, colder and stiffer than the droids that roamed the halls.
He'd hoped the bedroom would be better. It was worse. A gunmetal gray bed with a charcoal black sheet, the admiral lying there in a plain black nightgown—no patterns, no frills, nothing. He looked like a corpse laid out for burial, still and silent.
Even prone, the admiral was all broad shoulders and sharp angles, faint outlines of his pectoral muscles visible under the thin fabric—his body was a masterpiece, forged from years of battle, hard and strong.
Then those cold eyes locked onto him, and Su Ling jumped out of his skin.
Dark, black as the deepest part of space, they glanced at him like he was a fly buzzing around the room, then flicked away, back to staring at the plain metal ceiling, empty and unseeing.
Su Ling froze, not knowing what to do, what to say. The thought that this man could kill him with a single order made his hands shake. But god, he was beautiful. Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, a straight nose that could cut glass, even eyelashes long and dark, fanning his cheeks like ink strokes on white paper. His face was like it had been carved by the gods themselves, perfect in a way that made you feel inadequate just looking at him.
Protagonist perks, I guess. Su Ling envied him for a split second, then rubbed his nose awkwardly. "Admiral."
No answer. The admiral's eyes slid shut, his face impassive. Su Ling glanced at the droid, hoping for some kind of cue—dont get any, it just stood there, a statue of metal and wiring.
"I'm tired." Su Ling mumbled the words, his head still hung low, not even sure who he was saying them to.
"Admiral's spouse, follow me." The droid's small light screen flickered once, a cold blue blip.
Stepping out of the admiral's room, Su Ling let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Even paralyzed, the man exuded a power that pressed down on you like a ton of metal, a pressure so thick you could taste it.
"What's your name?" Su Ling asked the droid, his voice still a little shaky.
"YD3571972408." The droid's answer was stiff, robotic, no inflection at all.
Su Ling winced—there was no way he'd remember that ridiculous string of numbers. "Does the admiral call you that?"
"Master refers to me as D3."
"A nickname, then." Su Ling smiled, a small, bright thing that peeked through his fear, a little spark of life in the cold metal house. "Can I call you Square?"
He tugged at the droid's metal arm, chattering away for minutes—nonsense, really, just words spilling out of his mouth. He just needed to talk to someone, anyone. And in this house, the only company was droids, all metal and code, no warmth, no heart.
"Admiral's spouse, it is time for rest. Please retire to your quarters." Even the droid wouldn't indulge his rambling any longer.
Su Ling stared at his room—cold metal walls, a plain white sheet on the bed. It looked like a morgue, sterile and empty, the air cold enough to see your breath.
Stop it. Stop thinking stupid things. He flopped onto the bed, face first.
Thud. A dull, heavy sound, his skull colliding with something hard as a rock. Su Ling sucked in a sharp breath, his hand flying to the back of his head. The bed frame was solid metal—did they not have mattresses in the space age? Was a little comfort too much to ask for in this godforsaken galaxy?
He rubbed his throbbing skull, his chest tight with loneliness. Alone in a strange world, no family, no friends, nothing to his name. All he could do was fight to survive.
And the admiral… he hadn't had it easy, either. An orphan from the slums, clawing his way up from nothing to become an admiral, a war hero. Then the paralysis diagnosis—permanent, the doctors said—and all the applause, all the flowers, all the adoration had vanished faster than a star going supernova. No family to back him up, no clan to protect him. That's why the Su family had dared to treat him like this, to spit on his name and his honor—they knew he had no one to fight for him.
He was arrogant, cold, distant… but he wasn't a monster. He wasn't the kind of man who killed for no reason. If Su Ling took care of him, if he was good, if he got a divorce before the story's true protagonist showed up—if he gave the admiral back to the one who was meant to save him—maybe he'd live. Maybe he'd make it out of this alive.
He could treat this like a job, a temporary gig. Take care of the admiral, learn the ropes of this strange new world, and bide his time. Survive first, ask questions later. That was the only rule that mattered.
A contract. He needed a contract, something to protect him, a safety net in this chaos. Su Ling rummaged through the room, tossing aside metal boxes and empty drawers, until he found a crumpled piece of paper and a pen, scratchy and cheap. He scrawled two words at the top, his hand shaking a little, the ink smudged on the cold paper: Contract Marriage.