Dawn broke early, and Su Ling dragged himself out of that rock-hard bed. He'd tied his too-long bangs up into a tiny little knot on top of his head, baring a smooth forehead and a pair of round, almond-shaped eyes. Gone was the original's bitter, gloomy aura—this version was a whole new person, a pale, clean-cut teen with a softness about him that made you feel at ease just looking.
He rubbed his stiff back, then grinned and waved at the droid by the door. "Mornin', Square. Is the admiral up yet?"
"Good morning, Admiral's spouse. Master is awake."
Su Ling's eyes lit up, bright and eager. "I'm gonna go see him."
"Master instructed that the Admiral's spouse is not to disturb him unless necessary." Square didn't do subtle—never had, never would.
Su Ling stared at the metal arm blocking his path, stunned for a heartbeat, then his brain kicked into gear. "It's necessary! Super necessary—life-or-death necessary!"
Square didn't have the programming to question human words, true or false. Master hadn't said anything about barring the spouse if it was an emergency. The metal arm retracted with a soft whir. "Admiral's spouse, shall I escort you?"
Su Ling shook his head, clutching the crumpled contract he'd drafted, and rapped his knuckles on the admiral's bedroom door.
No answer. Su Ling channeled every job interview he'd ever watched on old Earth vids, his tone flat and businesslike. "Admiral. I have official business to discuss with you."
Still silence. Su Ling pushed the door open.
The admiral's eyes were closed, but Su Ling knew he was awake—droids didn't lie. Knew he could speak, too, if he bothered to open his mouth.
Su Ling stood ramrod straight, unfurling the contract with careful fingers, his posture earnest, his voice steady. "Good morning, Admiral. I'm Su Ling. I know you don't want this marriage any more than I do, so let's make a deal. I'll take care of you, you pay me a salary, and in seven months, we get a divorce. Does that work for you?"
When he finished speaking, the admiral finally moved. His eyes fluttered open, a cold glance flicked at Su Ling, then right back to the ceiling.
That icy stare made Su Ling's confidence waver. What did that mean? Yes? No? Was he doomed no matter what he did, destined to be hated and then killed?
He swallowed hard, and his gaze snagged on the admiral's lips—chapped, cracked, tiny flecks of dried blood clinging to the edges. It looked painful, the kind of raw ache that gnaws at you when you forget to drink water for days.
The admiral's body was drowning in excess energy, the very power that had made him a hero now trapping him in a paralyzed shell. For a man who'd spent his whole life in control, who'd commanded fleets and fought Zerg, to lose every bit of that—how suffocating must that be?
That energy raged inside him, tearing his body apart piece by piece, only to heal it all over again. The book had said it was like being flayed alive, over and over and over. And yet this man never flinched, never let a single wince cross his face, no trace of the agony he was in visible to anyone.
He was strong. Braver than anyone Su Ling had ever known. He'd never given up on himself, not even when the universe had given him every reason to.
Su Ling steeled his resolve, cleared his throat, and read the entire contract aloud, slow and clear, explaining each line as he went. "See? I'm just a caregiver, plain and simple—like you hired a nurse. Room and board included, and you can pay me whatever you think is fair. That's it."
This time, not even a glance. The admiral's eyes were fixed on the ceiling, unblinking.
"If you don't say anything, I'm gonna take that as a yes, okay?" Su Ling inched forward, step by careful step, his heart hammering in his chest. "I promise I won't do anything to hurt you. Not a single thing."
He reached out, his finger brushing the admiral's hand, and froze, his eyes locked on the older man's face, ready to yank his hand back at the first sign of resistance.
But there was nothing. No flinch, no glare, no twitch—like the admiral didn't care at all what he did. Su Ling took a deep breath, grabbed the admiral's hand, and pressed his thumb firmly onto the contract's signature line, leaving a faint smudge of ink and skin.
It felt like he'd just been handed a get-out-of-jail-free card. The tight coil of tension in his chest unraveled, and he realized he'd been holding his breath this whole time.
After a minute to catch his breath, Su Ling slipped into caregiver mode, his voice soft and attentive. "Your lips are really chapped. Can I get you something to drink? Water, tea, coffee, honey water, fruit juice—whichever you want."
He waited, his eyes wide and hopeful, but the admiral just gave him a lazy, indifferent look, still not a single word.
No answer meant no trust. Su Ling sighed to himself, but he already knew the answer anyway—he'd read it in the book, after all. The admiral loved honey water, the sweetest kind, thick with golden nectar, and he had a secret weakness for rich, buttery cake that melted in your mouth.
He gave the admiral a small, gentle smile. "I'll make you honey water, then. Be right back."
He was halfway to the door when a flat, mechanical voice cut through the silence behind him. "Admiral's spouse, unit Yl7429620421 at your service. Master's hygiene hour has commenced. Please step aside."
Su Ling jumped and scrambled out of the way, twisting to look at the new droid. It was taller than Square, its metal frame sculpted to look more human—like a bronze statue dipped in black paint, all sharp lines and cold precision. A medical droid, obviously.
It stood two meters tall, its arms thicker than Su Ling's thighs, and next to it, Su Ling felt like a kid standing next to a starship.
The medical droid's blue optic eye flickered, and it reached out a massive metal hand, unbuttoning the admiral's nightgown with delicate, precise movements, baring a broad, tanned chest, muscles defined even in paralysis, a wild, raw kind of sexiness to it that made Su Ling's cheeks heat up.
He scratched the bridge of his nose, his words coming out in a stutter. "I-I'll just… head out then."
He practically fled the room, his footsteps hurrying down the hall, cheeks burning. He'd only wanted to watch the medical droid work, to learn how to take care of the admiral properly—honest. Dont get him wrong, the view was nice and all, but that wasn't the point.