Morning light streamed through the hovercar window, spilling across the seats in soft gold. Gu Qing and Milton sat side by side in the quiet cabin, the atmosphere calm and warm. Gu Qing gently took Milton’s hand. The instant their fingers touched, a tender ripple passed through both their hearts—wordless understanding, steady reassurance.
The hovercar came to a gradual stop at the military headquarters.
As soon as the door opened, Gu Qing did not hesitate. He laced his fingers firmly with Milton’s and stepped forward, leading him straight through the main entrance.
Milton’s face flushed at once. His heartbeat quickened. His gaze flickered along both sides of the corridor, trying to conceal the flustered look brought on by shyness and nerves.
Uniformed female officers lining the hall immediately halted in their tracks. Heads turned. Eyes widened. Expressions ranged from astonishment to envy.
“Oh my—look! The general and Lord Gu Qing are holding hands!”
“I have never seen a male insect dare to hold a female’s hand in public—let alone someone like Gu Qing. This is a romance textbook in real life!”
“I always knew Lord Gu Qing was charming, but to dote on the general like this… If I could be his attendant, I would be smiling in my sleep.”
“I heard several officers cried in private. The military group chat is exploding. Someone said the sweetness level is off the charts.”
Whispers spread down the corridor. Some covered their faces in dramatic despair. Others wiped away imaginary tears. A few joked:
“I refuse to witness this public display of affection. I am retreating!”
“My heart is melting. This is too sweet!”
Not far away stood Veli. His expression remained composed, his gaze cool as it swept over their interlocked hands.
Outwardly calm and steady.
But in the little theater inside his mind, a miniature version of himself clutched a handkerchief and sobbed dramatically.
“My lifesaving benefactor is with the general? I am finished. I never stood a chance!”
“…But they look so happy. Fine. I will bless them.”
The tiny figure sniffled again.
“He spoils the general so much. I am jealous! But seeing the general smile like that… it feels warm too.”
In reality, Veli merely let out a quiet sigh, forcing a faint, gentlemanly smile.
“Best wishes. I am a gracious friend.”
No one could see the storm raging in his private mental stage.
Milton felt the weight of countless burning gazes. His cheeks deepened in color, his heart pounding like a drum. Yet he did not loosen his grip. If anything, he held tighter, as though anchoring himself to the only certainty he trusted. A steady warmth rose within him—this hand felt capable of holding up all his weakness and unease.
He remembered the years behind him—relentless expectations to be strong, rational, composed. Never vulnerable. Never fragile. He had once believed that was simply what a female insect must be.
Now Gu Qing stood beside him, openly holding his hand before everyone. That quiet, unwavering protection softened the rigid defenses around his heart.
He squeezed back gently, feeling the strength flow through him.
Gu Qing tilted his head toward him and said softly, “Ignore the looks. We walk together.”
Milton drew in a breath and nodded.
Hand in hand, fingers intertwined, they walked down the long corridor with calm, measured steps. Amid the noise and scrutiny, they seemed to carry their own private harbor of peace.
After that day, a striking sight became commonplace within the headquarters.
At the meeting point of morning and evening shifts, Gu Qing and Milton would walk side by side through the halls, fingers interlocked, strides perfectly matched. Gu Qing never hid it, never avoided attention. Milton still blushed at times—but he never pulled his hand away.
At noon, near windows and corridor corners, another familiar scene appeared. Gu Qing would arrive at the general’s office with a specially prepared lunchbox from Qingyuan.
Every time the lid lifted, the contents were abundant and artfully arranged—far too refined for an ordinary military cafeteria meal.
“As expected of Qingyuan…”
“That tamagoyaki looks incredible!”
“It is definitely a love lunchbox.”
Female officers peeked discreetly, whispering about the aroma and portions, emotions tangled between admiration and envy.
Even more astonishing was the general’s transformation.
Once, Milton had been known as the most unapproachable commander—precise, restrained, seemingly emotionless. Now, when Gu Qing appeared, a faint smile would lift his lips. Occasionally, someone even caught him leaving his office with visible warmth in his expression.
“The general has truly been well cared for.”
“Look at that glow. It is practically overflowing.”
“He used to feel like a machine. Now he looks like a female insect in love.”
When the two stood together, the harmony between them was undeniable. Gu Qing, though a male insect, carried no arrogance. He took initiative in caring for Milton’s emotional state and daily needs. Milton, though a general, gradually learned how to accept that care. When their eyes met, it was dazzling enough to blind bystanders.
The first time Eir witnessed it, he nearly dropped his data tablet.
“W-What?! The general held Gu Qing’s hand? And he did not pull away? Wait—the lunchboxes—this is impossible!”
Beside him, Feili fell silent for several seconds before saying quietly, “…It is good this way.”
Days passed. The two adjutants shifted from shock to reluctant acceptance to quiet support. When they saw how much lighter Milton seemed—how often he smiled—even Eir wiped at his eyes.
“He is truly… happy.”
One afternoon, Milton received a private call from the Marshal.
The holographic screen lit up, revealing the steady face of Akram Hubert. There was faint amusement in his eyes.
“Public hand-holding at headquarters. Quite bold.”
Milton coughed, uncharacteristically awkward. “…I did not think too much about it.”
Akram’s tone was not stern—rather, lightly amused and faintly resigned. “I have always regarded you as one of my own. I watched you grow from the academy to this position. You have carried too much for the military over the years. It is time someone walked beside you in your own life.”
Milton lowered his gaze. His voice was quiet but firm. “…I will cherish him.”
Akram nodded slowly. “What Gu Qing does is not because anyone demands it. He does it because he wants to. A male insect like that is rare. He cooks for you. He shields you from the wind. He holds your hand before everyone without hesitation.”
“If he truly wishes to walk this path with you, I hope you will become his rightful consort.”
His voice deepened, warm and steady. “You deserve to be treated well. You deserve happiness.”
In that moment, Milton lifted his head slightly. Light flickered in his eyes.
This Gu Qing. This companionship. This version of himself.
It was a future he had never imagined he could possess.
This was not merely romance. It was a new definition of love.
In the old insect society, love had been an extension of power—obedience, transaction, equal exchange under rigid hierarchy. Sweetness had never been part of it.
Love had been a serial number on a marriage list.
Female insects were taught how to please, how to comply. No one had taught them how to be loved.
Now, in every corner of the military headquarters, another version of love was on display:
Holding hands was not command, but protection.
Packing a lunch was not obligation, but devotion.
Companionship was not dominance, but choice.
Of course, such public affection brought minor “troubles.”
Applications to Gu Qing’s mental coordination chamber had grown into a queue so long it felt like a bureaucratic black hole. Rumor had it that securing a slot even two years out was cause for celebration.
The reviewing officers complained openly, rubbing their temples.
“I have reviewed so many applications my hands are numb. At this rate, I will turn into a machine.”
In private discussions, female officers whispered:
“I do not mind if the general is the primary consort. There are still attendant positions…”
“As long as I could meet Lord Gu Qing once, I would do anything.”
“It is the first time I have seen a male insect love a female like this. Not transaction. Not control. Just… gentle. Cherishing.”
One chief strategist joked, “If Gu Qing ever took multiple consorts, the entire headquarters would collapse.”
The whole military seemed stirred into lively chaos by this grand queue of admirers. Everyone laughed and sighed at once. Being one of Gu Qing’s admirers was no easy role.
In short, because of Gu Qing and Milton, the insect race witnessed something unprecedented—
Love, it turned out, could be this gentle.