It was past dinner time, and in the military headquarters building, only a few windows still glowed with light.
Milton sat in his office chair, brows slightly furrowed, concentrating on reviewing the last military report of the day. Philip sat beside him, silently and efficiently organizing the mountain of paperwork, while Il couldn’t stay still, leaning in with a puzzled expression and lowering his voice for gossip: “General, why have you been staying so late recently?”
Tilting his head, Il added with curiosity, “Back when you and Gu Qing were dating, didn’t you always leave on time, practically clinging to each other?”
Before Milton could answer, Il muttered again, “And Gu Qing hasn’t been coming to the office lately either—only sending lunch via the robot at noon, then handling the mental seas of the military alphas in the afternoon before heading straight home…”
Milton’s hand froze on his pen, fingers whitening from the grip. He cast a slightly uneasy glance at the wall clock, his Adam’s apple moving as if he were trying to calm some inner turmoil.
“Nothing…” Milton forced a calm tone, flat and unremarkable, “just been busy with military duties.”
He quickly closed the file as if hiding something, grabbed his military hat, and stood: “That’s enough for today. Time to go home.”
As he turned toward the door, his posture remained upright and dignified as always—but a closer look would reveal each step carried a subtle stiffness, a forced hesitation.
Il watched the door anxiously and whispered to Philip, “Don’t you think… the General seems off? Could he have had a fight with Gu Qing?”
Philip closed his folder leisurely, his tone calm, almost detached: “Didn’t you notice the new cushion on his chair?”
“…Huh? Isn’t that the one he didn’t like because it didn’t fit a soldier’s style?” Il asked, bewildered.
“And,” Philip continued, stacking the papers neatly, voice precise like analyzing a battle report, “Gu Qing hasn’t been coming to the office recently, but every time he leaves military headquarters, there’s a smile on his face, sometimes even humming some unknown ancient tune. Meanwhile, the General has been unconsciously keeping his hand near his lower back when he walks.”
Il stood frozen, brain spinning, then suddenly his face turned bright red, ears nearly smoking, as he stammered, “Y-you mean… they… did that…? Impossible! He’s the General! The strongest alpha consort in the military!”
Philip shot him a sidelong glance, calm and knowing, adding softly, “Don’t forget, Gu Qing is… Blue Dai.”
Il’s face flushed like a ripe tomato, standing dumbfounded for several moments without a single coherent word.
Meanwhile, back at the small villa, Ace finished his dinner and glanced at Gu Qing, still humming at the table and waiting expectantly for Milton to come home. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically.
—Love-struck, hopelessly.
He hurried to his room, plopped onto the bed, and immediately called Loes.
The moment the video connected, Ace fired off: “Even before marriage, he was practically a domestic god, but now? Cooking three meals a day, handling all the chores, even cleaning my room spotless! He’s nothing like the old devil Gu Qing anymore.”
Loes chuckled gently, voice warm as spring: “Hasn’t Gu Qing always been considerate? I remember back at the military, he used to make bento for the General every day.”
“That was back then, sneaking in little free moments!” Ace argued, indignant. “Now, he signs in at headquarters in the morning, does a few rounds, handles some alpha mental seas in the afternoon, and then goes home to cook, weed, and tend the garden. Yesterday, I walked in and saw him mopping while humming a tune, smiling like… like it gives me goosebumps!”
Loes smiled, corners of her eyes crinkling, soft as ever: “Perhaps that’s the life he’s always wanted. He was too busy before—now he finally has time to relax.”
“I’m not saying it’s bad…” Ace’s tone softened slightly, but then he frowned, lowering his voice: “But he’s acting suspicious lately, always hiding in his room. I thought he was studying some interstellar strategy, but one day I accidentally opened the wrong door… guess what I saw?”
He gestured wildly, face red as a tomato, “All that… you know, indecent stuff! Pictures, videos, even tutorials! And when he saw me, he smiled and asked if I wanted to learn with him, saying, ‘Even if you don’t have a partner now, learning how to take care of one in advance is basic etiquette!’”
Ace buried his face in the pillow, muffled: “I ran away immediately! Gu Qing… he’s basically a pervert now!”
Loes laughed softly, not directly agreeing, but said gently: “Gu Qing is probably just trying to make your relationship closer. He really cherishes the General.”
Ace hugged his pillow, low hum, muttering: “Maybe… but I think Milton’s been staying late at headquarters just to avoid facing that domestic pervert.”
Later, when Milton finally stepped through the door, Gu Qing had already greeted him like a fresh breeze, radiant and warm: “Alpha consort, you’re finally home! I’ve been waiting for you… dinner’s been reheated a few times already.”
Milton’s violet eyes narrowed slightly, pausing mid-step, clearly thinking: ‘What scheme are you planning today?’
Gu Qing ignored any suspicion, smiling brighter, skillfully taking Milton’s hand and half-forcing him to the table, voice eager enough to earn the label “obsessive pet-husband”:
“Sit, quickly. I specially got you a thicker, softer custom cushion. It’s autumn now, and the chair’s cold—sitting too long isn’t good for your body.”
Milton looked at the overly thick cushion, lips twitching. The cushion was a blatant reminder of how “wild” last night had been.
Gu Qing acted completely natural, opening the thermal cover, steam rising from the fragrant dinner.
“Eat more today—you’ve been working hard lately and need to replenish your strength,” he said, skillfully serving Milton, a joyful smile on his face.
Milton looked at the pile of food growing higher and finally shot Gu Qing a hard glare.
—The reason he’s been “working hard” lately… is this very person.
Lately, Gu Qing had been studying all kinds of random knowledge, justifying it each night as “taking care of the alpha’s physical and mental health,” giving massages, cleaning the mental seas, but always ending in ridiculous results—either coaxing him into bed until he couldn’t move, or leaving him limp on the sofa for a night of endless teasing and intimacy.
At crucial moments, Gu Qing would even whisper in that dangerously seductive voice into his ear:
“Does this feel better?”
“Do you like me touching here?”
“Hmm? Your silence means consent, alpha consort.”
Just thinking of those broken moans and entanglements made Milton’s ears burn.
He, the renowned strongest alpha consort in the military, had lately been flattened by an alpha in bed every night, barely able to walk properly. His waist no longer felt like his own, and even getting out of bed in the morning required leaning against the door for a while to stand straight.
If his subordinates ever discovered that he was incapacitated every night…
The General’s dignity, authority, and presence would be utterly ruined.
At this moment, Gu Qing obediently poured tea for him, eyes clear like spring water, innocently promising: “Eat slowly, don’t choke. Tonight, I promise to behave—no mischief.”
Milton snorted, lifting the cup. Yeah, right.
Gu Qing met his gaze and even winked playfully, smiling like a cat caught in the act, voice soft and doting: “Really, I’ll ‘take good care’ of you.”