Sang Ying leaned down and scooped her father up from the backseat of the taxi. Her Omega father, though 1.75 meters tall, felt light as a feather in her arms. She hurried toward the hospital. Feeling a bit embarrassed, her father pulled his scarf down until it covered his eyes.
After borrowing a wheelchair from the nurse’s station and helping Sang Cheng into it, he finally felt comfortable enough to look people in the eye. Being carried by his daughter at his age was a bit mortifying.
The doctor’s expression turned solemn as he reviewed Sang Cheng’s medical report. Sang Ying immediately pivoted the wheelchair, but Sang Cheng gripped the wheels tightly.
“I have the right to know,” Sang Cheng said, looking at her with a faint smile on his lips. “Only if I know can I cooperate better with the doctor.”
Sang Ying compromised, turned the wheelchair back around, and sat down across from the doctor.
“The muscle atrophy in your left leg is quite severe. If you do not strengthen your training, you will not be able to wear a prosthetic limb in the future,” the doctor said. “The long-term lack of exercise, combined with the side effects of medication, has left your liver in a less-than-optimistic state. We need to perform an abdominal ultrasound to determine your specific condition.”
“I see,” Sang Ying’s throat tightened. “What else needs to be done?”
“That depends on the results of the ultrasound,” the doctor said, scribbling on a form. “Do not be too anxious. As long as you focus on your exercises, there should not be a major problem.”
Sang Ying took the form and pushed Sang Cheng to the fifth floor for the ultrasound, swiping her card and waiting in line.
The hospital was always crowded. Everyone carried their own hidden pain. She stood behind her father, masking her expression.
“Do not stand there,” her father said, grabbing her hand. “There is a seat here.”
Sang Ying sat on the corridor bench, and Sang Cheng chuckled as he patted her hair. “Stop frowning at such a young age. I know my own body. I dare say that other than being disabled, everything else is just fine.”
Sang Ying tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Mm.”
She could not bring herself to say anything more. Until the results came back, the stone weighing on her chest remained suspended.
Her father pinched her hand. “I have just been too lazy, that is all. I have not been exercising enough. I will change that from now on. I will go out for a stroll every chance I get. I will definitely train properly. I guarantee there will be no problems.”
Whether her father was lazy, Sang Ying knew better than anyone. It was that he did not want to wear a prosthetic; he felt they were too expensive. A new prosthetic requires a period of adjustment to the residual limb, and that process is painful. Over time, he simply gave up on wearing it.
There were prosthetics that did not require such difficult adjustment, but the cost was something the Sang family could not afford.
The ultrasound results would be ready in twenty-four hours. The doctor prescribed a new prosthetic for Sang Cheng, but it needed to be custom-made. The earliest they could receive it would be after the Lantern Festival.
On the way back, Sang Cheng felt devastated. “Spending so much money on a prosthetic. Just thinking about it makes me feel terrible. I think I am doing just fine with my wheelchair and crutches. Is your money blown in by the north wind?”
“Who was just promising me at the hospital that they would exercise more?” Sang Ying held her father’s hand. Because he had been pushing his own wheelchair for so many years, his palms were covered in thick calluses. “Dr. Li said the best place to train is at the hospital, but I know you will not stay. Even if I knocked you out to keep you there, you would just come home once you woke up. So, the only other way is to wear the prosthetic, walk more, and strengthen the muscles in your leg. Dad, I have found a job now. I can make several tens of thousands a month. Do not worry about the money.”
“Several tens of thousands a month?” Sang Cheng turned his head. “Are you sure you were not scammed into such a high salary?”
“It is a reputable big company, and I signed a contract,” Sang Ying smiled. “Dad, do not worry about the money.”
When they arrived home, it was already evening. A middle-aged, slightly chubby Alpha was standing at their door, carrying a shopping bag. Sang Ying greeted him, “Uncle Xue.”
“Little Ying, you are on break?” Xue Yang adjusted his glasses. “Did you two go out shopping?”
“No,” Sang Cheng’s smile faded. “Just a routine checkup at the hospital.”
“Oh, is everything alright?”
“Everything is quite good.”
“That is good!” Xue Yang lifted the bag in his hand. “Tomorrow is the New Year. I figured you two would not have time to buy supplies, so I picked up a few things for you.”
Sang Ying opened the door and looked back to see Xue Yang already helping Sang Cheng into the house, familiarly guiding him into the wheelchair by the sofa. “Look at you, you have gotten so thin you are almost gone.”
Once in the wheelchair, Sang Cheng moved away from Xue Yang’s warmth without answering. Sang Ying could tell that her father did not want to be close to him. She opened the refrigerator and said, “Uncle Xue, stay and have dinner with us.”
Xue Yang, who had been hoping for that, nodded. “Alright.”
Sang Ying took out the vegetables. “Uncle Xue, could you teach me how to make your specialty dish?”
“Why not!” Xue Yang took off his down jacket, hung it on the rack by the door, and walked straight into the kitchen. “Uncle Xue can teach you anything.”
Sang Cheng sighed in relief and rolled his wheelchair to the balcony to water his small plants, which were thriving in the northern indoor heating.
In the kitchen, Xue Yang was chopping vegetables. Sang Ying slipped into her room for half a minute before returning to the kitchen, handing a red envelope to Xue Yang. “Uncle Xue, thank you for all the help you have given my dad this year.”
Xue Yang paused and glanced at it. “Why are you always like this, child? We are neighbors; helping each other is only natural.”
“Just consider this as gas money,” Sang Ying said, tucking the envelope into Xue Yang’s pocket. “Thank you, really.”
Xue Yang did not push back further. He understood Sang Ying well enough to know that if he did not accept the money, she would find a way to make him take it anyway. He smiled, “As long as your father is well, I am satisfied.”
Sang Ying lowered her head to peel a potato, staying silent.
That night, Sang Ying changed the sheets on Sang Cheng’s bed. She tucked her hands under his armpits and lifted him onto the bed.
Sang Cheng joked, “Sigh, you handle me like a little chick. It is a good thing you are an Alpha. If you were an Omega…”
“If I were an Omega,” Sang Ying said, sitting on the edge of the bed and rolling up his pant leg, “I would still be able to lift you, given how thin you have become.”
Sang Cheng’s left leg had been amputated mid-thigh. Now, due to muscle atrophy, it was nearly a full circle thinner than his right leg, a visible change.
She pressed her fingers against his leg. Having learned from doctors since she was young, she knew exactly where to press and how much force to apply.
“What is wrong?” Sang Cheng looked down at her expression. “I have told you so many times, stop frowning. You are still so young, yet you are always knitting your brows. It will not look good when you get old.”
Sang Ying looked up. “I am not that young. When you were my age, I was already in your belly.”
“That is true,” Sang Cheng reminisced. “Time passes so quickly. In the blink of an eye, you are almost twenty-two. It is wonderful. You are beautiful and smart, much better than I was at your age.”
“Yeah,” Sang Ying said. “And yet, you still treat me like a child.”
“I do not dare treat you like a child; you have been clever and sensible since you were small,” Sang Cheng laughed. “Even before you were taller than the stove, you already knew how to cook and do chores. By middle school, you were working while studying, supporting me while keeping up with your grades.”
As he spoke, Sang Cheng’s eyes grew red. Ever since he gave birth to Sang Ying, he had felt indebted to her. He had once sworn that he could raise her well on his own, but a car accident changed everything.
Sang Ying’s fingers suddenly pressed harder. “What is the matter? Feeling indebted to me? If you really feel that way, then exercise, take care of your body, and stay by my side. That is the greatest compensation you could give me.”
“Okay!” He patted Sang Ying’s hand. “I will definitely stay by your side.”
Sang Ying smiled too. Sang Cheng was only in his forties. When he was young, he was a delicate and handsome Omega, but years of pain and the pressure of life had taken their toll; he looked much older than his actual age.
“Is your face still allergic lately?” Sang Ying leaned in closer to him. “How is the skincare I sent you?”
“I am using it,” Sang Cheng tilted his head to show her. “It works quite well. In previous winters, my face would be painfully dry, but not this year. Feel it; it is quite soft.”
“Heh,” Sang Ying let out a soft laugh. She could not tell if it was soft, but the allergies were certainly gone. “Yes, it is soft. You do not look like my father at all; you look more like my younger brother.”
“That is impossible,” Sang Cheng chuckled, his eyes squinting, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening.
Sang Ying reached out and touched those traces of her father’s aging.
“Hey,” Sang Cheng looked at her sideways. “Have you met any Omegas you like at school?”
“Hmm?” Sang Ying paused.
“You must have, right?” Sang Cheng became interested. “Last year when I asked you, you said no immediately.”
One could tell they were truly related; Sang Cheng caught her reaction instantly. Sang Ying went back to massaging his leg.
“What kind of Omega is it?” Sang Cheng asked. “Whatever kind you like, Dad will support you. The person you like surely will not be a bad one.”
“It is not like that,” Sang Ying would never lie to her father. She said softly, “It is one-sided; it is a crush.”
“Then go pursue them! Do not wait until someone else takes them and then regret it.”
Pursue them?
They had already slept together, yet that person was unwilling to have any entanglement with her.
“It is not suitable,” Sang Ying said. “There is a vast disparity between us. We are simply not people from the same world.”
“How would you know if you have not tried?” Sang Cheng comforted her. “Sometimes you just have to work hard and give it a try. Regardless of the outcome, you will not have any regrets.”
Sang Ying shook her head. The chasm between the clouds and the mud was the perfect way to describe them. She was a patch of mud in a puddle, someone others would detour around if they passed by. Xia Tingwang was a colorful cloud in the sky—everyone loved her, but no one dared to possess her.
“What about you, then,” Sang Ying said. “Everyone can see how Uncle Xue feels about you. Why do you always dodge him?”
Sang Ying had her own internal conflict: she hoped her father would have someone who genuinely loved him, but she also did not want him to be unhappy.
Over the last decade, she had observed Xue Yang. He was a decent man, suited for a quiet life, but unfortunately, her father was not interested.
“Me,” Sang Cheng leaned back against the bed, looking out the window. “I will not be looking for any Alpha in this life. It is fine just like this.”
The subtle sadness in Sang Cheng’s tone made Sang Ying’s heart tighten. Her Alpha father, whom she had never met, was a pain that would never heal for her father.
In the middle of the night, Sang Ying lay alone in her bed, holding her phone and looking at Xia Tingwang’s social media circle. Xia Tingwang’s posts were simple and clear: just photos without any captions.
The latest post was from earlier that day, a four or five-year-old boy making a funny face at the camera.
She liked the post but had no further interaction. She missed Xia Tingwang, but lacked the courage to chat with her. What would we even talk about? Things had been so unpleasant between them before.
So, longing is this agonizing.
Sang Ying turned over, and her phone pinged, a Weibo direct message from Yinyin77.
[Yinyin77: Are you asleep?]
[Qingdeng Skincare: No, do you have any requests?]
[Yinyin77: No requests, I just cannot sleep and wanted to find someone to chat with.]
[Qingdeng Skincare: Okay.]
Sang Ying waited for the other person to start the conversation. After waiting for ten minutes without a reply, she was about to ask if they had fallen asleep when the other person replied.
[Yinyin77: Do you have someone you like?]
Is chatting this direct nowadays? Sang Ying pondered for a moment. She had never discussed her privacy with a stranger, but Yinyin77 was her only client. On this night spent longing for Xia Tingwang, she felt a strong desire to confide in someone.