Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Taicang is a small border town. 

Despite being located in the southernmost prefecture of Chengdu, it borders the northern, rebel prefecture of Wuyong, leaving Taicang isolated from the warm summers its fellow towns experience in the hotter months and instead having cool breezes and summer showers that cause leaky roofs and a shortage of buckets to collect rainwater.

Yet, winter is prettiest in Taicang. Snow drifts gently, caressing the branches of persimmon and cherry trees, piling on the ground, plush and soft. It crunches under the boots of the paupers and workers as they lug their ox carts to work every day and lands on eyelashes and cracked skin as it mingles with the hustle and bustle of the common folk.

Indeed, Taicang is a small border town. But to those who occupy its’ walls and fill its’ streets with laughter and life, Taicang is more than just a dot on a map.

No, Taicang is home.

🐖

The chatter of townsfolk coupled with the rowdiness of children wrangling for a turn at the toy horse, mixed with the gentle chiming of the windchimes, created an eager and joyous environment. 

A sizable crowd of villagers had formed in Yushi-niángzǐ's courtyard—after all, they were one of the richer houses in Taicang, with Yushi-niángzǐ being a well-known and trusted farmer as well as the owner of the local garment shop alongside her wife, Xuan-niángzǐ, a decorated constable at the yamen’s office. 

Indeed, they were well-off, but Yushi-niángzǐ was an incredibly sensible and hardworking woman, generous in her prices for crops and for sowing seeds of friendship and camaraderie throughout the town. It was no wonder that at the prospect of the first New Year’s pig being slaughtered at their home, the neighbours and folk of Taicang had found themselves gathered in her courtyard.

It was also how Mu Qing found himself here.

By society’s expectations, no decent, young omega like him should ever concern himself with heavy work, especially not something so gruesome and lowly as pig butchering. Mu Qing himself did not yearn or crave to wake up and slaughter pigs or want to feel the animal’s blood staining his hands and the taunts and whispers accompanying this profession.

Yet, necessity brought him to this path. 

Being the sole caretaker of his household and having a much younger, asthmatic, frail brother, the 23-year-old had no choice but to pick up his Die’s trade.

At least he had his butcher knives, the sturdy family heirlooms that rested at his hip at all times. The general access to slaughter weaponry that was left behind by his parents seemed to be the only comfort of his profession; Mu Qing had a profound love for blades and even practiced some martial arts (when he was not preoccupied with A-Yao, that is) with long staffs. 

Xuan-niángzǐ was friends with his father, and Yushi-niángzǐ had met his Die and Niang when farming and selling her grain. The two alpha women had a good bond with his parents, and it naturally reflected in their relationship with Mu Qing, so much so that he had been hired by them to slaughter the New Year’s pig, despite the circumstances surrounding his situation.

Before he could dwell on the last thought for long enough, the faint sounds of a squealing animal caught his attention.

The pig had been brought out. 

The chatter and clamour of alphas and betas grew louder as they all squabbled and tripped over themselves at the chance to capture the pig. 

Mu Qing sighed; the commotion was getting to his head. He preferred the quiet (or as much as one could get with a 7-year-old sibling), but the omega supposed he had to put up with it if he were to earn some wen.

Rolling up his sleeves, he spread out and organized his workstation; the bench was draped with a cloth where the pig would be laid and, underneath, an empty basin to collect the pig's blood. Then, he grabbed his leather sack of carving, dissecting, and cutting tools, unrolling the leather as the blades caught the gleam of the sunlight.

He felt his lips curve into a faint smile as he examined the blades, tracing the contours of the iron and wood beneath his fingers.

Tossing his long braid behind his shoulder, he sauntered to the curtains, pulling them back to examine the courtyard. The grown alphas and betas could not get the pig to stay, as the animal stumbled and squealed around. The children and omegas giggled amongst themselves, mocking the absurdity of the fact that the supposed ‘protectors’ of the hierarchy could not catch a simple, rowdy pig.

Pathetic. Mu Qing thought, rolling his eyes before his gaze fixed on the pig. He sighed.

“Let me do it.” His mellow voice carried over the crowd. 

The tired and struggling alphas stared puzzlingly at him, their eyes darting back and forth between his face and the obvious scent patch on his glands. He rolled his eyes again. Of course, these alphas had a massive superiority complex and thought of omegas as weaklings. Eugh.

Still, under the cold gaze Mu Qing levelled at them, they scurried away, making way for him to walk towards the unsuspecting pig. Grabbing a leaf of lettuce, Mu Qing squatted down, cooing at the pig.

“Here, here, here…” He waved the leaf slightly, hoping to entice the greedy pig. It worked. The animal trotted and eagerly gobbled the leaf, its defences long forgotten at the prospect of lettuce. 

With a satisfied smirk, the omega stood up, trailing behind the pig as it chewed at the lettuce, trotting slowly. 

To capture a pig, one must wait for the perfect moment where the pig is slow, weak, and lazy enough to subdue. He had watched his Die do it hundreds of times and had practiced with his Die a few times as well. 

Indeed, the pig’s gait slowed down as it finished the remnants of the lettuce, lazily chewing around the leaf. 

Now. 

Swiftly, Mu Qing grabbed the pig by its fat belly, slinging one arm underneath while the other arm grabbed its hind legs, hauling the pig over his shoulders. His muscles strained pleasantly, the familiar feeling of strength coursing through his veins. The pig squealed and shook in his grasp, but Mu Qing manoeuvred it easily, walking back inside towards his workstation.

He paid no mind to the gasps and whispers of the onlookers, concentrating on placing the still-convulsing pig down on the mat. 

Rolling up his sleeves, Mu Qing placed one hand on the nape of the pig’s neck, squeezing in order to pacify it. With the other, he delivered a sharp, resounding slap.

Thwack!

Instantly, the pig stopped shaking, succumbing to its fate at the hands of Mu Qing.

Keeping one hand still on the nape of the pig’s neck, Mu Qing used his free hand to grab the slender knife and hoisted himself onto the bench, his knees straddling the sides of the bench. 

Before the first cut, his Die would always recite a prayer:

You’ve been a good pig in this life; be a good person in the next.

With that said and done, the omega adjusted the knife in his hands, and with a flourish of his wrist, he stabbed the pig.

A disgusting squelching noise (that he was far too used to for his own good) echoed around the room as the blood splattered, well, everywhere. Some of it landed on the windows, and Mu Qing only rolled his eyes again as he heard the gasps of the townsfolk. A splatter found its way on his cheek, but Mu Qing ignored it for the sake of finishing up the work. 

The gush of blood slowed down to mere drips, quickly filling the basin. This was the worst part of butchering; the metallic stench of blood and the sickly, squelching sound. But it was imperative.

Washing his hands in the basin of clean water provided by Yushi-niángzǐ, he dried them with a spare rag before pushing open the curtains. The crowd’s curious eyes fell on him again, some in trepidation and others in judgment.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. 

“It’s done. There was a lot of blood spilled; I need a second basin.” He addressed no one in particular before turning to head back inside. 

🐖

It takes around an hour and a half to skin the pig and gouge its eyes out, a necessary step to ensure the cleanliness of the pork. The skinning must be precise; being harsh and simply ripping off the hide could tear the fatty skin underneath and ruin the quality of the pork. 

Mu Qing cleaned his counters as he worked and truly wondered how someone as obsessed with neatness as him did not flinch in the face of such a disgusting sight; then, the crude reminder of his status would hit him like a sack of bricks, and he would relegate himself back to focusing on maintaining the hygiene of his workstation. 

Repulsion was reserved for the rich and noble, anyway.

Seeing the disastrous shade the water in the wooden basin had turned, the omega sighed and stepped out into the sunny courtyard again, waiting for Yushi-niángzi to hand him another basin of clean water. The afternoon sun was bright and unforgiving, but the cool, winter winds brought a chilly respite from the glaring rays.

His eyes flicked over the townsfolk and landed on the quiet circle of omegas, betas, and alphas alike that had formed near one of the low tables near the side entrance of the house, closest to where he stood.

They squabbled and talked over each other in what they thought were hushed tones but were loud enough that Mu Qing could probably hear them inside the room where the de-skinned pig lay.

“Did you hear about Yu-laoshi’s son…?”
“That man? Didn’t he get so drunk he threw himself at some of the police runners near the yamen’s office? How shameless of him, and the fact that he is an unmated omega too…!”

Mu Qing scoffed. Of course, the Taicang Gossip Mill never stopped running.

Just then, Yushi-niángzǐ appeared in front of him, handing him the basin. 

“We’ll be ready to feast in a moment.” She addressed the growing crowd, the latter of whom nodded excitedly, telling Yushi-niángzǐ not to worry and to take as much time as needed.

Mu Qing bowed his head slightly as thanks, grabbing the water basin. He wasn’t even fully inside when the rumour mill shifted its attention onto him. 

“Didn’t the Mu family just have a funeral almost a month and a half ago?” One of the betas asks. “Why did Yushi-niángzǐ hire Mu Qing to slaughter the New Year’s pig?”

He stilled as he placed the basin of clean water on the workstation. 

Of course.

He should’ve seen it coming. 

Indeed, exactly 40 days ago, Mu Qing had donned the suffocating white garb and knelt in front of his parents’ memorial tablets, watching incense float in the air as villagers came by to pay their respects to his deceased parents.

His grip on the handle of the knife tightened as the familiar burn at the back of his eyes threatened to spill over.

Mu Qing had barely registered anyone’s presence that day, uncaring of how he looked or acted at the funeral. He had been numb, save for the silent tears of agony that had rolled down his cold cheeks and dripped onto the knuckles of his hands that were clenched into his white robes.

Robes he wished he’d never have to wear. At least, not so soon.

His hand had reached to automatically, emotionlessly pat his baby brother, Fu Yao’s, hair as the 7-year-old had cried and screamed hysterically for his Die and Niang at the funeral altar. Fu Yao’s grip on his robes was deathly as he sobbed into his chest, dampening the scratchy material. 

“W-why did they have to leave?” Fu Yao had cried and then had gone into a wheezing fit due to his asthma. Mu Qing had only stared wordlessly at him, involuntarily going through the movements of making Fu Yao inhale his asthmatic medicine, patting his back. 

But he didn’t register anything. Only a singular thought had found itself in his head.

His Die and Niang were dead.

His Die and Niang were dead.

His Die and Niang were dead.

His Die and Niang were gone.

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Mu Qing brought himself back to the present and focused on making even cuts on the pig’s belly, but his attention was clearly diverted.

“...Out of pity, of course.” An omega, Madam Wei, had answered that beta’s question. “The Mu couple were killed by bandits, and they left behind no property—only two young boys.”

Mu Qing tensed. That was true as well. 

Bandits. He dreamed about crushing their skulls with his own fingers every night and avenging his parents' cruel, unjust deaths.

His cold, cold memory only supplied him with worse things: the sight of his Die’s body, his throat slit and abdomen stabbed. His Niang, his sweet, kind Niang, bleeding out but refusing to die, just to bid her young sons goodbye. 

Just to reassure them one last time—

Mu Qing exhaled shakily. What was he doing? 

Right. Meat. Hang up the cuts. 

He cut holes in the meat and grabbed straw ropes to thread through the holes to add extra support. 

Outside, Madam Wei continued. “Luckily, Mu Qing is capable. He’s following his father’s trade, butchering pigs to support the household. He’s held the family together, all on his own!”

The praise made his shoulders relax a bit. Of course he had held the family together; he had a young, sickly brother to take care of and mouths to feed. 

If he did not get his act together, who would?

It was this same belief that made him take the offer to butcher the pig from Yushi-niángzǐ in the first place, despite the fact that the mourning period was still ongoing. Mu Qing needed money and needed it fast; they could no longer stretch dried vegetables and small scoops of rice to the end of the month.

“Poor thing.” One of the other omegas piped up. “The Mu couple were such good people. Why did they meet such a fate?”

Mu Qing wondered likewise. His parents were kind, altruistic, and genuine people. Why had fate drawn such cruel lots for them?

The chatter increased tenfold; Mu Qing quirked a brow. 

“Granny Kang! You’re here! Come, come, sit!”

Mu Qing stiffened. Great. He rolled his eyes. If one could be paid for spinning the rumour mill out of control, then Granny Kang would be drowning in taels. She had gossip about everyone and could bluff and exaggerate the smallest of details.

“I’ll tell you why.” Granny Kang was even louder, almost like she wanted Mu Qing to hear himself being trashed. “It was all because of that boy; he cursed them!”

Ugh. Not this again.

Just a few days after the death of his parents, a new rumour had started to circulate: that he was born with misfortune. Apparently, as Mu Qing had heard from his Da-Niang, he was born under some once-in-a-millenium cursed star that gave him an ominous fate and left him with the title of sào bǎ xīng —an unlucky jinx—which caused many of the villagers to eye him warily or step back in apprehension when he walked past.

Of course, Mu Qing lamented his parents’ unjust fate, but he was furthest from believing in this superstitious nonsense of curses and jinxes. 

Still, it stung. Did anyone want to be told that the reason for their kin’s death was their mere existence?

He listened carefully as he hung up some lean pieces on the metal hooks.

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Madam Wei scolded Granny Kang, who simply scoffed.

“Didn’t I tell you before? Look at how beautiful Mu Yúzé’s wife was. Who knows, she might have come from a brothel. Otherwise, how would she ever marry a butcher like Mu Yúzé?” Granny Kang said conspiratorally.

Mu Qing stilled. 

How dare she? 

He could take any insult meant for himself. But the moment it came to his family—his Die, Niang, or Didi—Mu Qing would not stand still. And yet…

…He could not go teach her a lesson. Yet. Once he finished hanging up the meat, he could do something. But he could not jeopardize the hard-earned money he desperately needed.

Instead, the omega gritted his teeth and hung up more pieces, albeit with a bit more force than required. It was then he realized he was out of straw ropes, a perfect excuse for him to go outside and survey this gaggle of Granny Kang worshippers.

Pushing open the curtains, he passed the group, not deigning them with acknowledgement. Seeing him, the mill instantly shut up, watching him with wide eyes.

Could they make it any more obvious as to what they were conspiring about mere moments ago?

Entering the tool room, he rummaged about for straw ropes while the conversation outside resumed almost instantaneously.

“Good heavens,” Madam Wei scoffed at Granny Kang, “Have respect for the dead. Let us not talk about it anymore.”

Mu Qing had an inkling this conversation would not end here.

He was right.

Granny Kang countered Madam Wei. “Am I wrong? He may take after his mother with all that delicate, doll-like beauty, but have you seen his muscles? Look at all that strength!” There was a hint of disgust in the tone, though Mu Qing did not mind.

He was proud of the lean muscle hidden conspicuously beneath his robes. Though he appeared to many as the picturesque omega—delicate, pretty, and slender—he was stronger than he let on, owing it to his parents for teaching him and letting him develop his core and strength.

“Let alone a beta—even two alphas couldn’t match him!”

He smirked, finally having located the straw ropes as he rolled his shoulders. Once again, he sauntered past them, uncaring of the stares that bore into his back.

“He is really strong.” One of the alphas agreed in a hushed tone.

Still, Granny Kang continued on her tangent as Mu Qing finished hanging up the meat, focusing on collecting all the dirty basins.

“That boy just has a bad fate. And before you come at me, I didn’t say that.” Granny Kang rushed to defend herself. “Wasn’t he engaged to Zhu An? The Zhu family went to have their birth charts matched, and when they saw the results…oh my.” She sneered. “He was born under a cursed star!”

“I had never heard of that…” Another omega mumbled.

It was in that moment, especially the mention of that ingrate Zhu An, that Mu Qing decided he was done. The meat had been hung up; technically, his job was finished. 

He had been emptying out the contents of the basin, and the last one remaining was the foul-smelling pig blood. Perfect.

Head held high, he strutted over to where Granny Kang and the rest were sitting, oblivious to the approaching Mu Qing.

“The Zhu family panicked and hurriedly called off the engagement.” Granny Kang concluded, a devilish smile playing on her face. 

“Is that so?” The same alpha from before asked. Before Granny Kang could answer, however, Mu Qing lifted the basin and dumped the pig’s blood all over the back of Granny Kang’s robes.

The old coot gasped, and the rest of the mill stood up with her as they fought between fretting over the granny or confronting Mu Qing. 

“Granny Kang.” Mu Qing greeted, utilizing the same ‘delicate’ features in his favour, making sure his mellow voice appeared decorous and sweet. “Here’s some pig blood for you. You know, to help wash away your bad luck…” He decisively curled his lips into a small pout, looking as if his intent was a simple desire to help.

“You…you…!” Granny Kang sputtered, but Mu Qing paid her no mind, scoffing and rolling his eyes as he turned to walk towards the front of the courtyard, to address all the townsfolk gathered.

“Look at him!”

“It’s outrageous!”

“Look at what he did to me!”

Another roll of his eyes. Mu Qing sighed, his indifferent gaze settling upon the townsfolk. “Yushi-niángzǐ said that half of today’s pig is to be shared with the neighbours. Everyone, please patiently choose your cuts.” He advised, before placing the empty basin down. 

Immediately, everyone from the gossip mill to the rest of the townsfolk rushed to swarm him and the cuts, leaving behind the sputtering Granny Kang.

“Hey…you!” She sneered, stomping as she approached him. “What did I say wrong, huh?”

Mu Qing did not look at her, instead collecting his midnight black cloak, the white fur tickling his knuckles, and the makeshift backpack he carried on his back, the bell attached to the front tinkling. 

“You…you are a jinx! You cursed your parents to death! You drove your fiance away!” She grew louder, her hands flailing as they pointed at Mu Qing repeatedly. The latter simply continued walking.

“Kang-popo, come on, stop talking!” Madam Wei urged as she tried to hold back the granny from flinging herself at Mu Qing. Nevertheless, she continued.

“Your didi was born sickly, and that’s also because of you!”

The taunts and bullying were like arrows, and Mu Qing felt like a practiced archer’s target. The arrows always hit the mark, but the target board was battered and bruised enough to not feel the pain anymore.

He was truly numb to these remarks. All he wanted was his pay and some respite.

“Alright, alright…” Madam Wei attempted to coax the old coot, but she still flailed wildly.

“Well, look at him! So rude!”

“Kang-popo, the pork!”

🐖

Waiting outside for what felt like an eternity but was probably only 15 minutes, Mu Qing could only mindlessly kick up clouds of snow with his feet or play with the ends of his braid. Most of the pork had been bought, if the commotion following his announcement was any indication. 

He straightened his posture as Yushi-niángzǐ rounded the corner, stepping outside the threshold of her house. Mu Qing noticed that the alpha had a bucket hanging off her arm.

She placed the bucket down. “Mu Qing, here is the money for butchering the pig today.” Yushi-niángzǐ placed a few banknotes in his palm. 

“Thank you, Yushi-niángzǐ.” He inclined his head courteously. His mother had not only educated him but also taught him proper manners, posture, and elegance. 

“A-qing, maintaining kindness and respect is the most important thing.” Her words echoed in his head as the omega straightened to look at the alpha in front of him.

Yushi-niángzǐ smiled gently at him. “The feast is about to start. Stay and eat with us.” 

Mu Qing instantly shook his head. “No, thank you.” He exhaled quietly. 

“My family just had a funeral, and you did not mind. Hiring me anyway was already more than kind.” His tone was tinged with remorse. Although he had wanted to teach Granny Kang a lesson, he knew that his actions would have an effect on Yushi-niángzǐ’s reputation, if only a bit.

The latter only shook her head. “There is no need to be so formal with me. I will not force you, though.” She bent down to pick up the wooden bucket.

“Take the pork offal.” She thrust the bucket into his hands, and the silk of her green robes brushed against his palms. 

Again, Mu Qing hesitated. “Oh, Yushi-niángzǐ, I couldn’t—”

She cut him off. “Mu-Xiōngdì, just take it. Your father used to make the best master stock. Giving it to you would not be a waste. Take it home for Fu Yao.” 

Mu Qing pursed his lips at the mention of his father, then quietly accepted the bucket, settling it into the nook between his arm and elbow. 

“Then, thank you Yushi-niángzǐ. I’ll head home now. A-yao is waiting for me.” 

With a polite nod, he turned around, walking towards the clearing where the bridge to cross over to the west side of Taicang would be. 

“Mu-Xiōngdì!” Yushi-niángzǐ’s voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned around, tilting his head curiously.

“Ji’er told me there is a war in Wuyong,” Yushi-niángzǐ said, referring to her wife, “so it’s not peaceful here anymore. Be careful on your way home.” 

Mu Qing only nodded politely. “I have always been careful, Yushi-niángzǐ.”

Yushi Huang watched as the omega walked away, his slender frame disappearing as he stepped into the clearing.

“What a good lad. It’s a shame he has a hard life.”

🐖

“Five, ten, twelve, eighteen…twenty-two, thirty…forty-two, forty-five…” 

Mu Qing’s nimble fingers flicked through the banknotes as he walked down the familiar path. He knew it like the back of his hand, since he and his Niang would often come for walks here while his Die was butchering. 

Yushi-niángzǐ was an honest person, so it was less about double counting the notes. Instead, Mu Qing was mentally budgeting the forty-five wen. 

Ten wen for A-yao’s medicine and another fifteen for vegetables, tofu, spices, and oil.

From the remaining twenty wen, five would secretly go towards Da-shu's and Da-niang's money chest. The remaining fifteen wen would be kept in his and A-yao’s savings. 

It was not easy to budget, but being able to keep any money to the side for the future was a blessing. His Niang's and Die’s lessons of “always being grateful for what you have” were hammered into his head from a young age, so Mu Qing, although a bit of a complainer and not one to desire being pitied, did see any opportunity for money as a blessing from his parents and the heavens above.

Mu Qing also prided himself on being incredibly observant and having a perfect memory. However, lost in his calculations, he failed to notice the weirdly shaped lump in the snow.

Until he tripped right over it, of course.

Mu Qing sputtered as he fell face-first into the snow, the bucket of offal rolling a little distance away from him. Spitting out some of it and brushing it away from his soft lips, he found a few flakes melting against his pale cheeks and caught onto his black hair and long lashes.

“Ugh! Stupid!” He hissed, dusting himself off and rotating his now aching wrist as he turned around to examine what made him trip in such an undignified manner…

…And came face-to-face with a large boot.

Mu Qing stared, feeling his heart jump in his chest as his eyes trailed upwards, following the hidden shape of...legs. Legs?! That kept the boot in place.

“I-is that a…” He whispered to himself, eyes widening as he, still on his hands and knees, crawled upwards to examine the lump more closely.

“A body?!” The omega gasped, standing up to approach what appeared to be the face of this unknown…whatever it was. Mu Qing knelt down.

A heavy blanket of snow was covering the body, obstructing Mu Qing’s view. With trembling hands, he gently brushed away parts of the snow till only a little bit was remaining—enough to confirm his suspicions.

The stench of blood hit his nose first—scars and gashes of dried-up blood marred what he assumed was a man’s face. Underneath it, wheat-coloured skin that was rapidly paling due to hypothermia was contorted in pain.

Mu Qing’s hands only shook more as he hissed in sympathy. This man must have met a bad end.

Sucking in a breath, Mu Qing quietly covered up the man’s face with snow again. “Sorry, sorry…” He knew it was inappropriate to disturb the peace of the dead, so he uttered the only prayer he could think of to repent for his actions.

“Y-you’ve been a good pig in this life; be a good person in the next…” He clasped his cold hands together, closing his eyes. “I really didn’t mean to…”

His mumblings were cut off by a loud, pained groan.

Mu Qing froze, stumbling backwards as he balanced himself on his hands. What the…

He gulped. Dead people couldn’t make sounds….

The omega approached the body carefully again, dusting off the snow once more and curling his hand and bringing his index and middle finger underneath the man’s nose to feel for a breath.

A small puff. And after a second, nothing.

“He’s…not breathing?” Mu Qing mumbled to himself, then shook his head. No, the man had made a sound. That could only mean…

“N-no. He’s h-half dead…” Mu Qing swallowed, instantly backing away from the man. Standing up, he stumbled to regain his balance and quickly grabbed his backpack and the bucket of offal and made sure his banknotes were secure. 

“Mu Qing,” he talked to himself, his pace increasing as he willed himself to look away from the man. "J-just go home. Go home.”

Still, his stupid, stupid, stupid heart begged and pleaded for him to turn around and save the man. 

Forty days ago, Mu Qing would not have hesitated. His Die and Niang would have helped him and reassured his kindness, and Mu Qing would’ve felt warm and proud because he had followed his parents’ teachings.

But he had locked his heart a while ago, and the key was buried somewhere only he could reach.

Being benevolent and generous had only brought him heartbreak. His kind parents, who would help anyone in need, were mercilessly, cruelly slain.

So, why be kind?

“No.” He clenched his teeth, willing his feet to walk, walk, and go home. “My family is poor. I don’t have the money, nor the want, to save you.” He sneered, cursing his soft heart.

“I still have a didi at home. I will absolutely not let some random, bloodied man near him.” Mu Qing thought about his kind, innocent brother who couldn’t even bring himself to stomp on a bug. The last thing he’d ever do would be to jeopardize his safety.

And yet…

Mu Qing stomped angrily as he stopped in his tracks. Seriously??? Why couldn’t he will himself, harden his heart, and rationalize the growing list of consequences that would follow him if he saved this man??

Why couldn’t he be bad? 

“How could my A-qing ever be bad, hmm?” His Niang’s voice, sweet and light, cooed as he felt the phantom touch of her hand stroke his hair. When he turned, he saw a memory, shared at this exact bridge.

"A-qing." His mother was sitting next to a younger, eight-year-old, Mu Qing. “No matter how much the world hits us, tries to make us fall down, or tries to make us lose our courage and our kindness, we must never let it.” She had hugged him, brushing away his tears.

He vividly remembered the cause of them. Some of the older boys and girls, especially those that were backed by their siblings that had presented as alphas or betas, went around bullying the younger kids. Mu Qing had stood up for them and was shoved, getting hurt in the process. Through sobs and snot, he had whined to his mother that he would never, ever help someone again if it meant he was going to be beaten up!

“But, Niang,” he had sniffled, a pout forming as his cheeks, still filled with copious amounts of baby fat, had puffed up. “T-they didn’t even thank me. I-I got hit, and they ran away, but I got beaten up! W-why should I help people if I get beaten up?” He had crossed his arms, snuggling into his Niang’s embrace.

His Niang had smiled, squeezing him. “Xiăo băo, if someone does bad things to us, does it mean we should go do bad things to them all the time? That way, we’ll keep hurting each other until the end of time! Being kind is hard, but it is infinitely more rewarding than being cruel.”

“Your Niang is right, A-qing!” Another voice had called out, and Mu Qing blinked, feeling tears cloud his eyes as his Die joined the vision.

His Die squatted next to the both of them, opening his palm and offering Mu Qing his favourite cherry candies. Some other day, his Niang would have reprimanded his Die for encouraging their son’s egregious sweet tooth (he truly could not resist sweets in any capacity.) That day, she had simply smiled, cleaning the corners of Mu Qing’s mouth with her handkerchief as he had gobbled up the candy.

His Die patted his little ponytail affectionately. “A-qing, the path of cruelty always seems easier, but it will keep haunting you. Though the path of kindness may have thorns...”

“...It will always be more rewarding.” Mu Qing finished as the vision disappeared from in front of his blurred vision, cringing at the sound of his choked voice. 

He missed his parents.

Turning around, the omega stared at the lump. 

“Die, Niang, I hope your teachings don’t bite me in the back…” Mu Qing mumbled as he unceremoniously dropped the basket of offal and his backpack, then sprinted back to the man’s side.

“I’m coming to save you!” 

Dropping to his knees beside the man again, he pointed a finger at the body. “Don’t die. If you die, I’ll bury you in a pit so deep you’ll never be able to crawl out!” He sneered.

Dusting the snow off his body, Mu Qing felt adrenaline burst through his veins. “Hang in there. Don’t die. Don’t…” He trailed off as he stared at the man’s hand.

It was large and bloodied, but that was not what caught his eye. The man’s thick fingers had wrapped around… Mu Qing’s hairpin.

Not even Mu Qing’s…his Niang’s. The last memento she left behind was the hairpin she had placed in his hands before her eyes had fluttered shut forever.

Mu Qing reached with trembling hands, gently taking the hairpin out of the man’s tight grip. 

It must’ve loosened out of the updo at the top of his braid when he fell and slipped out when he had scrambled away from the man.

“Niang.” He whispered, eyes darting to look up at the heavens. “If I hadn’t turned around for him today, I would have lost this piece of you forever… is this a sign from you? D-do you want me to save him?” He asked quietly, slipping the pin back into the updo.

His musings were interrupted by another low groan from the man. Mu Qing tensed. 

It didn’t just sound like a moan of pain; it sounded like…words?

Carefully, he lowered his head next to the man’s cracked lips. 

“...Hnngh…” The man’s voice was baritone and hoarse.

Mu Qing waited.

“N…Niang.” The man groaned out, his breath strained. 

Mu Qing stilled.

So you miss your mother, too.

With a final glance at the sky, Mu Qing finished dusting the snow off the man before placing the man in a sitting position, bending down, and wrapping the man’s arms around his shoulders and his legs around his waist and upper thighs. 

The man was a little bit taller than him, though not by much. It was the difference in breadth—the man’s shoulders were quite broad, and he had defined, larger muscles compared to Mu Qing’s leaner ones. Still, Mu Qing applied the techniques he had learned from carrying wheat sacks and heavy pigs and remembered to keep his core steady to avoid the both of them from toppling over.

With a careful balance, he also grabbed (more so dragged) his backpack and offal bucket with him, too.

Underneath the stench of blood, Mu Qing could smell a faint scent of rotten wood. It was dwarfed by the stench of blood and sweat but still strong enough to poke through. 

Generally, unmated or unmarried omegas were expected to wear collars or scent patches to obstruct one’s scent, just like Mu Qing. Betas had neutral, faint scents—some had none. Granted, this man could be an omega; they came in all shapes and sizes. 

But for a married or mated omega to be out, alone, passed out, wounded, and not having been kidnapped or taken advantage of is highly suspicious. As disgusting as it sounds, it was true. 

That, coupled with how strong the currently agonizing and distressed scent was, Mu Qing suspected that with his exceptional luck, he had rescued an alpha.

“Great. Just dandy.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stared at the trees while walking slowly, routinely adjusting the most-likely-alpha man on his back. 

Die, Niang, bless me with some luck, please.

🐖

By the time he had reached Yīngtáo Lane, his corner of Taicang, the sky had already darkened, illuminated by the waxing crescent. Most of the street vendors and shops had blown out their lanterns, so his only guiding lights were the illuminations from the lamps of other houses.

Gosh, his back was going to hurt so bad tomorrow…

Mu Qing’s eyes had been carefully scanning the lane, making sure no one saw him carrying a half-dead man back home. As if the label of a jinx wasn’t enough, he did not want to be tacked down with further questions about why a half-dead alpha was hanging off an unmated and unmarried omega’s back.

The sole things his Die and Niang had left behind were property: the butcher shop, the pigsty, and the house. Their next-door neighbours, the Shu's (or as he called them, Da-niang and Da-shu), had known them ever since they arrived in Taicang twenty years ago; an older couple who had lost their daughter to war. Mu Qing had often been babysat by them as a child; aside from his parents and A-yao, they were the only two who had seen his genuine smiles and knew his nature inside out.

Mrs. Shu, or Da-niang, was a perfumer and part-time matchmaker (she had dubbed it herself.) An omega, her husband Mr. Shu, or Da-shu, was a veterinarian for the farm animals of Taicang and also knew quite a bit of blacksmithing; he was a beta. 

Together, the Shu’s and Mu Qing’s parents had conjoined their houses while Mu Qing was fairly young so that travelling and interacting were made easier. Then, with the unexpected arrival of Fu Yao, Da-shu and Da-niang were truly lifesavers. Mu Qing already babysat, but they offered an extra helping hand. Indeed, they were almost akin to a second home for the Mu siblings, and they had proven so by taking the orphaned boys in when they were at their lowest.

The conjoined house was large and was situated at the end of Yīngtáo Lane, and as Mu Qing approached the door, he heard Fu Yao’s quiet giggles coming from inside.

Good. He was awake.

“A-yao!” The omega whisper-shouted. “A-yao, open the door!”

“Qing-ge?” Fu Yao’s excited voice called from inside. “Qing-ge! Did you know I went to watch a shadow play today?” His voice grew louder as he drew closer. “It was so much fun! There were swords and horses and…”

Fu Yao’s voice trailed off as he opened the door, staring at his Qing-ge and the body of a random man hanging off his Qing-ge’s back. 

“Huh?” he squeaked, confused. “Qing-ge…?”

Mu Qing shook his head; no time to explain to a 7-year-old what had transpired. Instead, he simply instructed Fu Yao. “A-yao, get my things from outside. Quickly!”

Fu Yao nodded as Mu Qing walked into the courtyard of their house. The young boy grabbed the bucket of offal and his backpack, dragging the both of them across the snow, making sure to lock the door behind them.

“A-qing!” Da-niang’s voice greeted him as she stepped from behind the curtains. “Who…who are you carrying?” Her voice lowered as she ran over to examine Mu Qing.

“I found him on the road.” Mu Qing answered, adjusting the man on his back again. “He had barely a breath left in him. Da-niang, please help me get him inside!”

“Aiya! You…” Da-niang stopped him in his tracks with her arm. “You don’t even know if he’s good or bad, yet you dare to bring him home?”

Fu Yao also scurried over, curious eyes staring at the man on Mu Qing’s back.

“Besides,” Da-niang continued, sniffing the air that now reeked of blood, sweat, and an alpha’s agonizing scent. Her eyes narrowed. “He is an alpha. You’re an unmated omega. People’s gossip will drown you! No one saw you on your way in, did they?”

Mu Qing stifled the urge to roll his eyes, but to no avail. “Da-niang, you know I could care less about…all that.” He sighed. “His wounds look similar to the ones inflicted on my parents. He must’ve run into mountain bandits, too.”

Mu Qing shook his head. “Anyway, I cannot worry about all that right now.” He continued walking towards his side of the house, but Da-niang stopped him once more.

She sighed. “Aiya, carry him to my house.”

The omega shook his head. “I…I can’t bring bad luck or whatever into your house. W-what if he dies?” He mumbled quietly. Da-niang huffed a sigh before grabbing his arm.

“Either he dies out here, or he dies in my house. Let’s go!” She scolded, ushering him and Fu Yao inside.

The climb up the stairs towards their attic was difficult, but Mu Qing managed. Fu Yao and Da-niang pulled back the covers on the bed tucked by the window in the corner of the small attic room, allowing Mu Qing to gently place the injured, unconcious man down on the mattress. Fu Yao helped him as he covered the cold body with blankets, hoping to bring back some warmth to rewarm him. 

“My fū jūn is out at the post station to treat some animals.” Da-niang explained as she watched the two brothers. “I’ll have to go drag him back. You keep an eye on him for now.”

With a sigh, she beckoned to Fu Yao, who was standing by the side of the bed. “A-yao. Come! You must stay here too. It is improper for an unmated omega to be alone with an alpha.”

Fu Yao appeared beside his Qing-ge, arms crossed as he stood with a defensive stance. “Okay!”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes at the customary nonsense. Even if the alpha woke up and tried to attack him or A-yao, Mu Qing would make sure he truly died this time around. 

Besides, due to Fu Yao’s asthma, he was already shorter and frailer than most. Still, with another roll of his eyes, he patted Fu Yao’s hair, pulled into a small ponytail, as the boy nuzzled into his knee with a bright smile.

“I’ll be back soon.” Da-niang said as she exited the attic. Mu Qing made an affirming noise as he sat down on a stool facing the bed, careful to maintain his distance. Fu Yao found a stool beside him and sat down, placing his head on Mu Qing’s knee.

Aside from staring at the ground, there really was nothing Mu Qing could do. He only had some semblance of medicinal knowledge from sometimes accompanying Da-shu on his visits to farms, and those patients were animals. 

This was a full-grown alpha.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard feverish grunts coming from the bed. Mu Qing looked up, staring as the alpha’s bloodied face contorted with pain and anguish, his thick brows drawing low and scrunching. 

Was he hyperventilating?

Mu Qing’s eyes flickered down to where the alpha’s one hand dangled from the bedside, and they promptly widened. 

Blood. Copious amounts of blood leaked down the alpha’s hand, which prompted Mu Qing to immediately stand up and grab the man by the sleeve, pushing it upwards. 

No open wound. So where was this blood trickling down from…?

Frantically, Mu Qing peeled off the blanket from the man’s body and gasped. The man’s other hand was clutching his abdomen, where pools upon pools of blood had gathered, soaking into his hands and the tattered robes.

Quickly, Mu Qing leapt into action, putting pressure on the wound using his own two hands. Warm blood instantly stuck to his fingers.

“Why is he bleeding so much?” Mu Qing fretted. Seeing his brother leap into action, Fu Yao grabbed a rag from nearby and offered it to his Qing-ge, who took it and pressed it into the wound.

“Before Da-shu gets back, you absolutely cannot die!” He hissed at the alpha, who’s grunts and groans of pain were only growing louder and more dire by each second. 

“I’ve gone out to treat some patients with Da-shu, after all. I have to try, even if it is a long shot…” Mu Qing murmured. 

Especially if his Niang wanted him to save the man.

Mu Qing fixed his gaze on Fu Yao. “A-yao, go fetch a bowl of hot water.”

But Fu Yao stayed rooted to the spot, a stubborn pout on his lips. “Da-niang said that an unmarried omega and an alpha shouldn’t be alone together. I have to stay and watch!”

“Forget about that!” Mu Qing hissed, rolling his eyes. “He’s about to die! Go, quickly!” 

Fu Yao’s eyes widened, and he immediately sprung into action, running down the stairs to fetch the bowl of hot water. 

Mu Qing sighed; he didn’t mean to scare his brother, but he had truly inherited some of Mu Qing's and Die’s stubborn streak.

Either way, with a man rapidly losing blood underneath him, Mu Qing had far worse matters to worry about. Pushing the rag down hard enough, he quickly stood, scanning the attic till his eyes landed on the medicine shelf. His fingers quickly found the paper packet where the medicine for external wounds and bleeding was kept, just in time for Fu Yao to return with a bowl of hot water.

The two brothers knelt at a low table just diagonal from the bed. Mu Qing, with his impeccable memory, estimated the amount of medicine he had watched Da-shu pour for the last patient trip he had accompanied the older beta on. 

“This much should be enough…” Mu Qing surmised, nodding to himself. But Fu Yao tilted his head.

“Shouldn’t you add more? It looks too little for the big da-ge who looks like he’s bleeding a lot…” Fu Yao shifted closer to him. Mu Qing shook his head.

“This amount shouldn’t change too muc—A-yao!" He gasped as Fu Yao accidentally bumped into his arm, causing the remaining powder of the pack to spill into the medicine.

Fu Yao’s eyes widened with unshed tears. “Q-qing-ge, I-i’m sorry!” His lips quivered.

Mu Qing sighed. It was clear Fu Yao had been overwhelmed. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He cooed softly, brushing Fu Yao’s bangs out of his eyes. “We’ll just have to feed him lesser amounts.”

Fu Yao sniffled but nodded, trailing behind Mu Qing as the latter lowered himself by the man’s side once more, blowing on the medicine in the spoon before bringing the wooden spoon to his cracked lips, tipping the contents of the medicine into his mouth. He repeated this act a couple of times, making sure the amounts of medicine were small so as not to ruin the man’s already deteriorating condition.

“What’s going on, A-qing?!” Da-shu’s voice called out as he stumbled into the room, barely catching a breath. 

Mu Qing and Fu Yao both turned to stare at the beta, whose eyes were now darting between the medicine in Mu Qing’s hands, the alpha on the bed, and the empty packet of medicinal powder strewn on the low table.

He picked up the packet, and the beta’s eyes widened tenfold. “Aiya! What are you doing?!” He exclaimed, coming closer. 

“F-feeding him medicine…?” The omega offered weakly, trying his best to use his doe eyes to convince Da-shu. But clearly, the beta was immune.

“You…what the hell?” Da-shu exclaimed again, and Mu Qing winced at his loud tone. “You poured the whole packet of medicine in? Are you trying to save him or kill him?” 

Fu Yao shifted to hide behind Mu Qing’s back, and Mu Qing only nodded reassuringly at him. He’d take the blame.

“What are you doing, kid?” Da-shu bemoaned, taking the bowl out of Mu Qing’s hands and placing it on the edge of the low table. 

Mu Qing straightened, genuine panic tinging his tone now. "I…I thought, since last time there wasn’t this much bleeding, I’d use more this time…” 

Fu Yao hid his face in Mu Qing’s skirts, and Mu Qing absentmindedly patted his head. 

Da-shu rounded on him with an exasperated face. “Last time it was a donkey. A donkey! Does he look like a donkey to you?”

“Yes.” Mu Qing muttered, and Fu Yao stifled a quiet giggle in his skirts. 

Da-shu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “With a bowl of that forced down his throat, forget a person—even a full-grown donkey would drop dead!” He took a seat on the edge of the bed, grabbing the alpha’s wrist and examining his pulse.

“Pssh, what is it with all your yelling?” Da-niang scoffed, entering the room. 

Mu Qing’s fingers curled around the end of his braid, a nervous habit. “I guess I just didn’t want him to die…especially not in your house, so I added a bit more medicine." He mumbled quietly.

“Eating too much can burst your stomach. Then why don’t you eat until you burst?” Da-shu deadpanned.

“You can die from eating too much?” Fu Yao asked from behind Mu Qing’s skirts, his head peeking out curiously.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes in exasperation. So did Da-shu.

“Alright, alright,” Da-niang ushered the brothers out. “Come outside. Omegas and children shouldn’t stay for this sort of stuff.”

Mu Qing turned back, staring at the now closer-to-death alpha lying on the bed, and prayed to his heaven-bound parents to salvage his life.

🐖

It was a while later, when Mu Qing was half-listening to Fu Yao’s ramblings about the shadow play he watched during the day, that he heard the whispers of Da-shu and Da-niang in the foyer.

“Aiya, A-qing can barely feed himself and his didi. What is he thinking, bringing some strange alpha home? Why didn’t you stop him?” Da-shu asked incredulously, though a hint of concern for the brothers seeped into his tone.

Mu Qing sighed as Fu Yao continued rambling.

“Ay, look at that face, and you’ll know why. How could I stop him?” Da-niang retorted.

“What use is a pretty face? It doesn't put food on the table.” Da-shu countered, stepping outside.

Mu Qing tsked quietly. He had many other talents, mind you. But he couldn’t deny that Da-shu was right. He barely had money to spare. Now, he needed to buy medicine for a strange alpha and feed another mouth—that would upend his budget completely!

As Da-niang approached, Mu Qing assumed a clueless position. The older omega smiled tiredly at him. 

“Your da-shu has fixed him up and given him a cast. Since he can’t do anything to you in this state, go change his clothes and clean his face.” Da-niang instructed. “Oh, and take A-yao with you.” 

Fu Yao jumped up at the prospect of seeing the da-ge again. Mu Qing sighed but relented, allowing Fu Yao to join him as he carried a basin of warm water and a washcloth up the stairs to the attic room again.

The door was ajar, so Mu Qing used his hip to push it open fully. Fu Yao took the basin from him, placing it on the table beside the bed as Mu Qing examined the alpha.

Indeed, he looked much better now, the wheatish colour having returned to his skin. His thick brows were still furrowed, a permanent expression, though he looked more content. His jaw was less clenched than it was when he was in pain, and he was breathing normally.

Mu Qing sighed, peeling back the blankets to reveal the rest of his body. 

His tattered outer robes were soiled, so the omega made quick work of removing them and walked to the nearby hooks to hang them up, but not before rummaging through all the pockets.

Nothing. Even the sleeves held no coins or papers.

With a frown, he hung the robes up before returning to further take off his dampened inner robes. Again, nothing in his sleeves.

Was he robbed or is he truly a pauper? Mu Qing wondered as his hands found the waistband of the man’s pants. 

It was precisely then that Mu Qing realized he was undressing a stranger, an alpha. 

He felt his cheeks warm, though if anyone asked, it was simply due to the warmth of the room. 

Mu Qing straddled each side of the bed, pointedly looking at the ceiling as he pulled the pants down, then quickly covered whatever was underneath with the blanket before ushering Fu Yao to hand him some of Da-shu’s old pants. 

Heaven knows how he did it, but Mu Qing managed to avoid seeing any intimate parts as he pulled up the new pants before refocusing on the alpha’s chest. Under the warm light from the oil lamp, his broad chest appeared golden-brown, chiselled, and firm. The hard planes of his abs gave way to soft mass above them—a set of rudely protruding pecs. 

Mu Qing swallowed. Ugh, did someone have to look this attractive half-dead?

With a sigh, he quickly but carefully helped the alpha into thin inner robes and large, white outer robes (also Da-shu’s) before placing a pillow under his head. 

His long, black hair was matted, so with a wet comb, he untangled the strands and used a spare tie to tie the man’s hair in a half-up, half-down style—providing his hair with some relief after the ordeal it had suffered, being exposed to snow for such a long time.

Finally, Fu Yao handed him the washcloth as he wrangled it out, straining the excess water into the basin. It had gone lukewarm, but it was at a decent temperature for cleaning the man’s face.

As Mu Qing leaned forward to clean his face, Fu Yao’s soft voice echoed around the room. He, too, was leaning his small frame forward to watch his Qing-ge tend to the unconscious man.

“This da-ge is so handsome. Is that why you carried him back?” He smiled innocently. 

Mu Qing felt his face warm, but he scoffed and shook his head. “Nonsense. I was just trying to save him—Die and Niang would have wanted me to. It has nothing to do with his looks.”

The omega reached over and gently dabbed the washcloth on the man’s face, careful to avoid the large scars that had marred it. 

Unfortunately, Fu Yao’s words had stuck. Because although his face was covered in red scars, an especially nasty one on his nose and a couple on his cheeks, he was…

…quite handsome.

If his broad chest and shoulders, his golden skin, and flexing muscles were not enough, then the rest of his face could compensate. The bushy, dark eyebrows were permanently furrowed, giving him an angered expression even in his sleep. His cheekbones were angled and his lips full, and slight freckles dotted the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. His jaw was well-defined, and his Adam’s apple was visible as he swallowed in his sleep.

Even the supposed imperfections of his face added to his roguish attractiveness.

The only accessory he donned was a simple, golden earring that caught the light, pierced in his left ear.

He was undeniably attractive. Mu Qing’s hand stilled as he simply stared at him.

Beside him, Fu Yao let out a quiet, “Wow…”

Blinking rapidly, he shook his head and flicked Fu Yao’s forehead with his finger. The child simply giggled, embracing his Qing-ge’s arm.

Aside from his attractiveness, though, Mu Qing wondered who this man was, with no bearings to his name and seemingly no one looking for him.

He wanted answers, and he wanted them fast.

The omega could only hope the alpha would survive the night.