Chapter 8: Which Part Offended You?

Not only had he failed to win over the big villain with a pregnancy meal, he'd ended up being won over by the villain instead.

Lin Yan felt even guiltier, like he'd secretly stolen every electric bike in the neighborhood, but he couldn't refuse: "...Okay. Sorry for the trouble."

Kaspa took off his bathrobe right in front of him.

As the fabric slid down, Lin Yan's gaze was instantly drawn to Kaspa's fully exposed upper body—

Shoulders straight and broad, the spinal groove deep and perfectly vertical, tapering down to a sharply cinched, lean waist—a textbook inverted triangle.

Even the hands that bent to pick up the T-shirt had faintly bulging veins, tempting as hell.

This was really treating him like no outsider at all.

Holding to the principle that he shouldn't take advantage of people, Lin Yan turned his face away. "Should I wait outside for you?"

Suddenly.

Lin Yan's wrist was seized by a rough, broad palm, stopping him from leaving.

He turned his head.

Kaspa, still completely bare, held his wrist with a confused yet utterly serious expression: "Why does Lord Husband treat me like such an outsider?"

"..."

It wasn't that he was being distant—it was that the villain was way too undistant!

"My body belongs to Lord Husband. Lord Husband has no need to avoid it." Kaspa's handsome looks were both deceptive and aggressive.

He lowered his eyelids. "Or is it that my body no longer holds any appeal for Lord Husband?"

"..." Lin Yan gave in. "Fine, I won't leave, okay?"

In the kitchen.

Kaspa had already meticulously changed into casual clothes and tied an apron on himself, the snow-white sleeves casually rolled to his elbows, his elegant hands like carefully sculpted works of art.

Then this work of art gripped a spatula and swiftly finished four dishes and a soup—perfect in color, aroma, and taste—in thirty minutes.

What husband material.

Lin Yan sighed with feeling, then buried his head and took a bite of sweet-and-sour spare ribs. The villain's spare ribs were perfectly balanced between sweet and tart, the meat tender and falling right off the bone, and the sauce over rice was delicious too.

He suddenly felt the villain was such a good person.

Had he been set up by the sweet-and-sour spare ribs, pineapple fried rice, winter melon meatball soup, tomato beef, and braised prawns?

Just as he was thinking this, the villain's slender fingertips flew, peeling another braised prawn for him.

He said, exceptionally domestically: "Lord Husband, open up."

"Nom."

Lin Yan's mouth was full of food, but faced with Kaspa's feeding, he forced his mouth wide open and, cramming the braised prawn in, involuntarily made some rather undignified sounds.

Kaspa furrowed his brows, his rough palm clamping Lin Yan's jaw.

Lin Yan: "?"

Lin Yan watched helplessly.

Kaspa, quick as a flash, used his chopsticks to pull the braised prawn back out of his mouth.

Only then did he release the large hand gripping Lin Yan's jaw, silently pulling back to a distance, but his expression remained grave.

For the first time, Lin Yan saw something like irritation on that blandly expressionless face of his, as if something had exceeded his expectations.

Lin Yan's mouth was stuffed full of delicious food; his chewing paused mid-bite, and he mumbled:

"...Wha's wrong?"

Was it because he'd made those undignified sounds and made Kaspa angry?

He knew it was impolite to make noise while eating, but hadn't they just been buddy-buddy looking at Kaspa's body a moment ago?

Was the bond between human and Zerg so fragile?

Didn't even need wind to blow—it just scattered on the spot.

Kaspa's tone was icy, his brows pressed low, the oppressive force hitting like the air in the dining room had been instantly sucked dry, forcing Lin Yan to not dare breathe.

In that instant, Lin Yan almost thought Kaspa had been possessed by the Kaspa from his past life who'd already gone dark:

"Who told you to eat whatever anyone gives you? Are you this unguarded around other Zerg?"

Oh. He wasn't angry.

So the big villain just liked playing teacher and was lecturing him like a kid.

Lin Yan chewed the food in his mouth and tilted his head. "Of course I know you can't eat things strangers give you. I'm not an idiot."

"But you're not some other Zerg. You're Admiral Kaspa."

In the original novel, Kaspa only turned antisocial after being pushed to the brink by Zerg scum.

He'd originally been an Admiral who protected his home and country.

Countless first-class merits to his name.

And very righteous too—even while being hunted by the entire Zerg race, he'd anonymously donated to help many out-of-school little Zerglings.

When he'd read the original novel, he'd been so indignant on Kaspa's behalf—

The one at fault was the original host.

But the one destroyed was Kaspa.

Kaspa had been brimming with momentum, but hearing Lin Yan's words, he deflated like a punctured balloon: "I understand."

In an instant, the atmosphere—taut as a string about to snap—crumbled to dust.

"Don't eat anymore, Lord Husband," Kaspa said. "That prawn's burnt."

Kaspa was lying.

The prawn wasn't burnt—it was poisoned.

This was the thought that had come to him when Lin Yan told him to eat the egg noodles—

A male Zerg's love was still too ethereal.

Every time a male Zerg did something, even if he really did want to make him egg noodles, he was like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bow, thinking it was poison.

It reminded him of his past life, wandering the whole interstellar space while wanted—any Zerg could turn him in, and even a Zerg he'd saved one second could very well report him the next for the bounty.

His fugitive life was full of uncertainty, terrified of being caught the next second and sentenced to death.

He was exhausted from dealing with any sudden kindness or malice.

Rather than receiving a male Zerg's love, he'd rather poison and control the male Zerg, make him obediently supply male Zerg pheromones for the egg.

He liked things that were certain.

But the male Zerg seemed very naive. In his past life, he'd never known that this male Zerg—who could even kill an egg with blood ties to him—could be naive to this degree—

"Of course I know you can't eat things strangers give you. I'm not an idiot."

That's what the male Zerg said.

He was confused for a moment.

Then, tilting his head, he said as if it were the most natural thing:

"But you're not some other Zerg. You're Admiral Kaspa."

Kaspa's fingertips paused.

He was certain.

The male Zerg was definitely an idiot.

How could the male Zerg be so sure he wouldn't harbor resentment over being punished, over nearly having his child beaten out of him?

But.

He couldn't stop his tingling fingertips from curling slightly, as if touched by an electric current.

His lowered lashes concealed the surging, crashing waves of emotion in his eyes. Kaspa said: "I understand."

Kaspa didn't know what he understood either.

He just suddenly felt a little.

Like.

He couldn't pass private judgment in his heart on a Lord Husband who hadn't yet committed the crime of abusing and killing the egg.

He was an Admiral.

He was.

Of the Zerg race.

An Admiral.

Kaspa tossed the prawn held in his chopsticks into the trash, then raised his eyes again. "Don't eat anymore, Lord Husband. That prawn—it's burnt."