Night fell like spilled ink, and the snow descended without a sound.
Since winter settled over the capital, the wind and snow had never ceased. The temperature had plummeted. Frost gathered quietly along the windowpanes, tracing delicate veins of ice. The study lights in the residence were still on, military documents stacked high across the desk. Milton sat with his brows tightly drawn, fatigue and a hint of hidden loneliness lingering in his violet eyes.
He had just rubbed his brow when the house steward system chimed:
“Master, you have a visitor. Lord Gu Qing has brought dinner.”
Milton froze for a moment, then rose and walked toward the entrance.
The door opened. A rush of cold wind swept in, snowflakes drifting through the doorway. That familiar face came into view—black hair neatly tied back, bearing calm and composed, an insulated container cradled in his arms.
Gu Qing let out a quiet laugh and nodded. “Dinner delivery.”
Milton paused, lowering his voice. “…You made it?”
“Yes.” His tone was as gentle as ever. “You’ve been busy ever since returning from the wasteland planet. I doubt you’ve been eating properly. The little one kept insisting on having my cooking, and since it was on the way… we came together.”
Milton spoke softly. “Come in.”
The door closed. A streak of silver light shot out from Gu Qing’s sleeve, rolled twice across the floor, and bumped into the tip of Milton’s shoe.
He looked down. The glowing orb radiated a soft aura, its surface shimmering like translucent silver jelly, round and adorable.
The next second, the silver light ball hurled itself toward the insulated container in Gu Qing’s hands and stuck to it, squealing impatiently, “Gu Qing’s cooking is the best! Mimi, hurry up and eat! I can’t wait anymore!”
Milton cleared his throat, unable to stop the curve at the corner of his lips. “…Is it always this noisy?”
Gu Qing replied calmly, “It’s worse when it’s hungry.”
The little orb clung to the container, muttering as it rubbed against it. “I’m not noisy! The smell is just too evil… wahhh~ Gu Qing cooks, Mimi shares, and I wait on the side to eat~♪”
Milton leaned slightly closer to inspect the glowing orb, his smile deepening. “…Can it actually eat?”
Gu Qing glanced at him, amusement in his voice. “Not sure. But stealing food? That’s real.”
The lid of the container lifted, and a familiar fragrance instantly filled the living room.
Milton looked down at the beautifully arranged dishes—color, aroma, and taste all perfected, portions just right. The tension in his eyes eased.
Gu Qing’s voice was low and warm. “It’s late. I was worried you hadn’t eaten properly.”
Milton looked up at him, and Gu Qing added, “You said you liked this back on the wasteland planet. I remember.”
Their gazes met. The atmosphere was quiet and warm.
The little orb bounced around the container, muttering in a small voice, “It smells amazing! Mimi, if you don’t start eating, I’m digging in first! If it gets cold, the soul of the food will disappear, sob sob!”
Milton’s lips lifted slightly as he said gently to the silver glow, “With you this excited, how could I not eat?”
After taking a bite, he murmured, “…It tastes very similar to the lunch boxes from Qingyuan.”
Gu Qing tilted his head slightly. “Qingyuan was founded by me. I just don’t put my name on it. Someone else manages it now.”
Far away in another residence, Ais suddenly sneezed violently and muttered with a frown, “It’s freezing. Who’s cursing me?”
“You can eat more from Qingyuan,” Gu Qing continued warmly. “It helps ease contamination in the mental sea.”
His gaze settled gently in the depths of Milton’s violet eyes. “If you’re too busy to buy it, I’ll have someone deliver it regularly… or I’ll bring it myself.”
Milton’s cheeks flushed instantly, the tips of his ears burning as well. His fingers trembled faintly as he pressed his lips together, trying to hide his emotions.
Warmth filled the room, mingling with the scent of food and quiet care.
After dinner, the little orb slipped back into Gu Qing’s mental sea. The study light glowed softly yellow.
Milton leaned back in his chair, eyelids growing heavy. When Gu Qing returned after cleaning up, his gaze rested gently on Milton’s face.
“How have you been lately?”
Milton opened his eyes drowsily and found Gu Qing leaning over him, so close that the warmth of his breath startled him awake.
“…Pretty good.”
Gu Qing chuckled softly, teasing. “During that time on the wasteland planet, I purified your mental sea every day—and cooked for you too.”
The tips of Milton’s ears turned red. He looked away. “That was a temporary situation.”
“I know.” Gu Qing’s tone carried a smile, though his eyes held deeper tenderness. “But you slept especially well then. One night, you even fell asleep directly in my arms.”
Milton stiffened, even his ears flushing crimson. “…You’re overthinking.”
“No.” Gu Qing’s voice was low, careful, as if afraid of startling something fragile. “I remember those small things.”
A brief silence stretched between them. Milton tried to look away, but those deep black eyes held him firmly in place.
Suddenly, Gu Qing bent down and lifted him steadily into his arms.
“You—what are you doing—?!”
“You’re too exhausted. If you keep pushing yourself, it won’t be good for your mental sea.” His voice was gentle but left no room for refusal.
Milton struggled briefly, but in the end, he was placed carefully on the bed.
Gu Qing sat at the bedside, lowering his gaze to him, his voice husky. “Don’t you really miss those days?”
Milton bit his lip, conflict flickering across his face.
Gu Qing stood, taking slow steps as if to leave. Milton’s heart dropped abruptly. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed the corner of Gu Qing’s clothing.
His hand was pale and trembling under the nightlight. His violet eyes carried exhaustion, the corners quivering slightly—clinging yet stubborn.
Gu Qing laughed softly, a hint of teasing in his tone. “What? Can’t bear to let me go?”
Milton lowered his eyes, fingers tightening hard. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak—he was afraid that once he did, everything he had suppressed would collapse.
He wanted to see Gu Qing—when he woke each day, at meals, even in the middle of the night when he startled awake. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He simply… wanted too much.
Gu Qing sighed lightly and bent down, voice warm with a faint smile. “I thought you’d say one more thing. Even just ask me to stay a little longer.”
Milton’s voice came out hoarse. “It’s not that I don’t want to… I was just afraid you had things to do.”
Gu Qing’s lips curved warmly. “I do. There’s something important I must do tonight.”
Milton frowned faintly. “…What is it?”
Gu Qing leaned close, his voice brushing against Milton’s ear. “Lull our general to sleep.”
Milton’s face burned instantly. Before he could protest, a warm hand gently cupped his cheek. The touch sent a tremor through his heart.
The next moment, Gu Qing lowered his head and kissed him.
The air seemed to freeze.
Their breaths intertwined, warmth mingling. The kiss was light, yet like a breeze rippling across a still lake, stirring overwhelming waves beneath.
Milton’s violet eyes widened, his body going rigid.
His thick lashes trembled as they lowered. His hands clutched at Gu Qing’s clothing, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs.
After a moment, Gu Qing pulled back, a quiet smile at his lips. He murmured by Milton’s ear, “We’ll take that as you asking me to stay.”
Milton’s face was flushed as he gave a small nod, his fingers still pressed against Gu Qing’s palm.
Gu Qing said nothing more. He simply drew him into his arms and held him.
Resting against his chest, Milton felt the steady rhythm of Gu Qing’s heartbeat—calm and familiar. His fingers curled slowly, gripping the fabric at Gu Qing’s chest. Finally, in a voice so soft it nearly dissolved into the night, he whispered:
“…I missed you.”
Gu Qing lowered his head and gently stroked his hair without speaking.
Milton looked into those deep black eyes, lips parting—only to be interrupted by an exceedingly soft kiss to his forehead.
There was no desire in it. Only comfort.
Tears gathered instantly at the corners of Milton’s eyes.
Sensing his trembling, Gu Qing tightened his embrace and whispered by his ear:
“In front of me, you don’t have to pretend to be strong.”
Those words were like a warm key, small yet precise, unlocking the firmest defense in his heart.
In the past, he had never allowed himself even the slightest weakness. Any crack could become a target for enemies. As a general, he had to embody strength, a steel shell capable of withstanding thousands. He was used to sleepless nights, to facing reports of war, death, and sacrifice alone.
But now, Gu Qing’s words gently lifted that heavy curtain within him, telling him he did not have to hide or pretend. That he… too, could grow tired.
His breathing quickened. His chest felt crushed by an invisible weight. His trembling fingers clutched at Gu Qing, as if afraid the warmth would slip away.
“How can you… say it so easily… when I…” His voice broke, eyes wet.
He wanted to say he was afraid. He did not know how to love someone. Afraid that once seen through, everything would collapse. Those shapeless fears gripped his heart like icy claws, leaving him unable to free himself.
He held Gu Qing helplessly, as though letting go would mean losing this warmth forever.
“Are you afraid I won’t stay by your side?” Gu Qing’s voice was low.
Milton nodded, then shook his head. Softly he said, “I’m afraid… afraid I’m not good enough. Afraid you’ll leave. And afraid you’ll stay… and one day realize I’m not worth staying for.”
Gu Qing did not answer immediately. He lowered his head and placed a light kiss on Milton’s forehead.
“It’s not that you’re unworthy. You just haven’t learned how to love yet.”
His voice was gentle, guiding him step by step to loosen the lock around his heart.
He bent closer, speaking so softly it nearly blended with their heartbeats. “It’s all right. Take your time. I’m here.”
With that, he lowered his head and kissed Milton again.
This time, the kiss was not merely soothing—it carried steady resolve and tender promise.
Milton froze for a breath, then wrapped his arms around him in return, fingers trembling faintly. In that embrace, he finally seemed to glimpse a path leading toward light.
Even if the road ahead was still shrouded in mist, he was willing to walk it—so long as the destination was Gu Qing.
Outside, wind and snow wove together.
Inside, the lights glowed warm and golden.
Gu Qing lifted a hand, fingertips brushing lightly along Milton’s cheek.
The movement was delicate, as though afraid to disturb something fragile—yet also confirming that this was real.
His fingers slid to the edge of Milton’s collarbone and paused briefly.
Warm and steady, his touch carried a quiet reassurance that softened the heart.
“Don’t be afraid,” Gu Qing murmured, voice as light as falling snow. “I won’t let you be alone.”
Milton stared at him, violet eyes shimmering. He wanted to speak, but his throat tightened.
That warmth, those words, that gaze—he was enveloped in a sense of safety.
“…Didn’t you just say you were going to lull me to sleep?” he asked quietly, a stubborn edge beneath the softness.
Gu Qing laughed low, the sound gentle. “I did. But our general looks quite alert right now.”
Milton pressed his lips together and bit them faintly. “If you say another word, I’ll close my eyes immediately and ignore you.”
Gu Qing chuckled softly. “All right. Then I’ll close mine too and keep you company.”
He leaned close, wrapping him lightly in his arms. Their closeness sent Milton’s heartbeat off rhythm—yet strangely soothed him.
After a long moment, Milton finally closed his eyes.
That night, he slept more peacefully than ever before—as if the entire world had quieted, leaving only this warmth he could lean on without defense.
That place was Gu Qing.
At the very moment peace settled in reality, deep within Gu Qing’s mental sea, the long-suppressed tiny voice finally burst out.
The Heavenly Dao little orb bounced wildly, its voice several times louder than usual.
“Waaah! You’re finally together! I’m so excited I could fly! After everything you’ve been through, you finally reached your happy ending!”
Gu Qing rubbed his forehead helplessly. “All right, all right. Quiet down. It’s time to rest.”
The little orb spun rapidly around him, silver light flashing as it protested and clung playfully. “No way! I want to keep celebrating! I’ve decided—I’m going to edit your entire love story into a commemorative video so everyone can see this heart-melting sweetness!”
Gu Qing smiled faintly, warmth in his eyes. “Rest first. You’ll have energy to cause trouble tomorrow.”
The little orb dimmed slightly, shrinking into a sulky ball, though it still muttered under its breath, “Fine, fine… but I’m still super happy!”