"I broke my leg once, back in my old world," Su Ling started, his voice casual, like he was telling a silly joke, not baring his soul. "I was wheeled into the hospital screaming, convinced I'd be a cripple for the rest of my life, crying my eyes out like a baby. Turned out it was just a simple fracture— a cast, three months of rest, and I was good as new."
He glanced at the admiral, and to his surprise, the older man's eyes were half-lidded, his gaze fixed on Su Ling—he was listening. Su Ling grinned, sheepish and playful. "Pretty stupid, right? But I got a more embarrassing story for you. Promise you won't tell anyone, okay?"
Even though there was no one else around, Su Ling glanced left and right, like he was afraid someone was listening, his ears turning pink with shame. "That night, my class monitor came to visit me—a cute little girl with two braids, big eyes, super sweet. And I… I really had to pee. Like, really had to pee."
His voice got quieter, softer, and he leaned in closer to the admiral, his head down, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. "I used every ounce of willpower I had to hold it in. But you can't fight nature, right? And in the middle of talking to her—boom. The floodgates opened."
He whispered the next part right in the admiral's ear, his face burning with shame. "I peed the bed."
The hardest part was out, and Su Ling pulled back, scratching his nose with a silly little smile, trying to laugh it off. "Luckily, I was smart— I'd been lying on my side, and the blanket was thick, so it didn't show. She never found out."
He took a big gulp of water to calm his embarrassment, then kept going, his voice a little louder, a little more relaxed. "Later, my mom found out, of course. She hired a nurse to take care of me—feeding me, bathing me, helping me with everything. And the nurse was a woman. I refused to move, refused to let her help, acted like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. My mom chewed me out good for it."
Su Ling stood up, one hand on his hip, the other pointing forward, mimicking his mom's sharp, no-nonsense tone perfectly, his voice rising in mock sternness. "You little brat! Do you wanna turn into a pile of shit, let a dung beetle roll you away to its nest?"
He laughed at his own impression, loud and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners, not daring to look at the admiral—afraid if he did, he'd lose his nerve, stop talking. "And I thought… she was right. What's pride compared to getting better? The nurse was just doing her job, my mom was paying her for it. Why was I being so stupid, so stubborn?"
He sat back down, his laughter fading, his voice soft and sincere, his eyes finally meeting the admiral's. "Admiral, we signed a contract. Taking care of you is my job now, and I'm gonna do it right. I'm gonna take care of all of you— the big stuff, the small stuff, the embarrassing stuff. You don't have to be strong for me."
He took a bite of cake, swallowing it quickly, then leaned in, his gaze steady and firm, his voice full of unshakable belief. "If you just let go, if you trust yourself, and trust me—you'll get better. I know it."
The admiral's eyes dropped, his gaze fixed on Su Ling's hand, and for a split second, Su Ling swore he saw the tension in his shoulders ease, the pain in his eyes fade a little. Did the pain feel lighter, too? If the little fool knew the galaxy's top doctors had all given up, had all diagnosed him with permanent, irreversible paralysis—would he still be so confident?
The sun climbed higher in the sky, warm and bright, and still, the admiral said nothing. Su Ling sighed, not angry, just a little disappointed. Did this man have a heart at all?
Unfinished books were the worst! Su Ling's mind wandered, wild and silly. What if there was a plot twist? What if the admiral was actually a droid, not a human? Or a cyborg with a missing brain chip, no emotions? Or maybe Su Ling's transmigration had broken the plot, and the admiral was actually a mute now?
His thoughts raced, silly and absurd, but he wasn't mad. He pushed the wheelchair back toward the bedroom, his voice soft, resigned. "Metal's cold, robot's cold—being around nothing but metal all the time'll make your blood run cold too. From now on, I'll carry you. No more Brute, no more metal arms."
He turned around, standing in front of the bed, and slipped one arm around the admiral's neck, the other under his knees, intending to lift him—just like Brute did. His small, thin frame pressed against the admiral's broad, muscular chest, and Su Ling suddenly realized his mistake. He'd bitten off more than he could chew. This man was heavy—so heavy, like carrying a mountain.
He gritted his teeth, straining, his legs shaking, his voice a breathless grunt of determination. "I said I'd carry you, and I will. I keep my promises."
The words were barely out of his mouth when his legs buckled, and he crashed forward, the admiral pinning him to the bed, his full weight pressing down on Su Ling's back.
The weight was overwhelming, suffocating—but it was warm. So warm. Su Ling felt the admiral's body heat seep through his thin loungewear, into his skin, into his bones— a stark contrast to the cold metal of the house, the cold of the admiral's gaze. It was the first time he'd felt the admiral's warmth, the first time he'd been this close, and it made his heart race, his skin tingle.
A strange, sweet scent wrapped around him, too—like sea breeze blowing through a pine forest, salty and sharp and a little bitter, but so addictive, so intoxicating, Su Ling found himself leaning into it, breathing it in deep.