Chapter Text
The soft sound of breathing filled the room, Mu Qing curled up on a nearby mattress with a blanket draped over him. His usually tense expression was softened by sleep and hair slightly tousled with one hand resting near his face. His body was still hot and fatigued from his heat not being over. Xie Lian couldn’t help but glance over at him fondly as he placed another fabric swatch onto the table.
“Keep your voice down, San Lang,” Xie Lian said in a soft whisper, though there was a playful lilt to his tone. “We don’t want to wake him.”
Hua Cheng chuckled under his breath. “Gege, he sleeps like the dead. He won’t wake up unless Nan Yang trips over something.”
“Hey!” Feng Xin grumbled, his voice a little too loud. All three of them paused, holding their breath as Mu Qing stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
“See? That’s on you.”
Xie Lian shook his head with a quiet laugh, returning to the collar designs. “Let’s focus, please. Should the collar be gold or silver?”
“Silver,” Hua Cheng answered immediately, his gaze flicking briefly to Mu Qing. “Something rich, suits my jewelry.”
Feng Xin sighed, crossing his arms. “You two and your fancy ideas. Just make sure it’s sturdy. Mu Qing’s going to find a way to tug it off if it annoys him.”
Xie Lian hummed thoughtfully. “He does have a habit of fidgeting when he’s nervous. Maybe something adjustable?”
Xie Lian’s expression was gentle but focused as he spread out fabric samples and designs. Hua Cheng, as always, sat closest to him, his sharp gaze scanning the options with intent. Feng Xin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, observing the discussion with a mix of skepticism and reluctant interest.
“I think red would be perfect, now that I think about it,” Hua Cheng suggested, his voice steady but filled with conviction. “It’s bold.”
Xie Lian smiled softly. “Red is striking, San Lang, but A-Qing might find it too overwhelming. He’s not one to want attention drawn to him.”
Hua Cheng smirked, leaning slightly toward Xie Lian. “Mm, Gege, you’re probably right. Maybe I should just get you jewelry in red instead. It suits you better anyway.”
“San Lang!” Xie Lian laughed, warmth in his voice as he reached out to intertwine their fingers. “You’re too good to me.”
Feng Xin shivered. “Get a room.”
Hua Cheng grabbed a scrap of fabric and tossed it at him without even looking. “Jealous? Maybe if you had half my charm, you wouldn’t still be single. Not even Mu Qing is giving you time to spend with him."
Feng Xin’s head shot up, his face red. “Excuse me?!”
“You heard me,” Hua Cheng replied smoothly, a devilish grin tugging at his lips. “Eight hundred years and still nothing. Impressive.”
“Listen here, you smug little—” Feng Xin started.
“Nothing about me is little, Nan Yang.” Hua Cheng shrugged and gestured down to his. . . packages.
Xie Lian quickly intervened, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He had to bite a smile and avoided looking down at Hua Cheng’s rather large packages.
“Now, now, let’s focus on the collar,” Xie Lian said, his voice carrying a soothing calm. “We’re doing this for A-Qing, remember? Not for... alpha posturing.”
Feng Xin grumbled, reluctantly dropping the argument, though his glare at Hua Cheng promised future retaliation. Hua Cheng, of course, looked utterly unbothered.
Feng Xin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “If we give him something flashy, he’ll just glare at us and refuse to wear it. Why not something practical? Mu Qing doesn’t need anything fancy.”
Xie Lian tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. “How about we compromise? A silver collar instead of gold. Red as an accent, perhaps? And something softer, like brown, could balance it out.”
Hua Cheng’s expression softened. “That would work. As long as it’s clear he belongs to us.”
Xie Lian cleared his throat, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks. “If we’re doing this, let’s make it personal. Something engraved. His name, maybe?”
“And ours,” Hua Cheng added quietly, his usual boldness tempered with sincerity. “Just small, subtle.”
“Not your name, for sure,” Feng Xin muttered, rolling his eyes.
Hua Cheng’s gaze flickered toward Feng Xin, his expression shifting into one of disdain. “And why not? Afraid my name would outshine yours?”
Feng Xin scoffed, crossing his arms. “Hardly. I’m just saying, if we’re going for something meaningful, we don’t need to plaster every name on it.”
“Sounds like someone’s feeling left out,” Hua Cheng quipped, his smirk sharpening. “Don’t worry, General, you’ll get your participation trophy.”
Feng Xin bristled, leaning forward. “It’s not about that! I just don’t think everything has to revolve around you .”
Xie Lian’s gaze grew tender as he reached for Hua Cheng’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Okay, calm down,” He breathed. “Let’s go slow. We’ll decide on any engravings later, okay?”
Feng Xin grumbled, but there was no real resistance in his tone. “Fine. But no over-the-top designs. We want him to wear it, not hide it away.”
Xie Lian laughed softly, his melodic tone filling the room with warmth. “Agreed. Now, let’s decide on the finishing touches before A-Qing catches wind of our plans.”
They watched him with quiet fondness. Years ago, Mu Qing would have never allowed himself to relax in their presence, let alone drift off to sleep. Yet here he was, utterly at ease.
The poor omega now found solace only in the warmth of his alphas. It was endearing, if not a little unexpected—even Feng Xin wasn’t spared. Mu Qing would be sprawled across him, one arm draped over his chest as if claiming him, his face tucked close for comfort. Feng Xin, for all his grumbling, didn’t move a muscle, his usual stiffness melting into an almost protective stillness.
======
When Mu Qing awoke, he immediately began cooking. He physically could not sit around and do nothing. Back in the heavens, he used to do his own reports, not his deputies. Being lazy was never a thing for him, and he didn’t want it to be.
Mu Qing decided to make vegetable soup with tofu. He was still nauseous and, according to his alphas, needed something light to eat. Mu Qing did not have energy to make the hearty meals he would usually make, so he opted for soup.
He stood by the stove, one hand stirring a pot while the other clung stubbornly to Feng Xin’s sleeve. The omega still hadn’t let go since he started cooking, and Feng Xin had resigned himself to being dragged around the kitchen like an oversized shadow.
“You really don’t have to cook, you know,” Feng Xin muttered, though his expression was soft as he watched Mu Qing work. “Shouldn’t you be resting after that episode with Crimson Rain?”
“Shut up,” Mu Qing replied, his voice a touch sharp but lacking real bite. “Besides, it’s just soup. Better than having Dianxia’s cooking for dinner.”
“Yeah, soup you’re clinging to me to make,” Feng Xin teased, tugging his sleeve lightly for emphasis. “What, scared the vegetables are gonna attack you?”
Mu Qing scowled and smacked Feng Xin’s arm with the spoon. “Do you want to eat or not?”
Feng Xin grinned, leaning slightly closer. “Depends. Does this meal come with a side of sweet words? Something like, ‘You’re my favorite alpha, Feng Xin’? I mean, I’d settle for, ‘You’re slightly less annoying than usual today.’”
“What’s with you and those pick up lines? Did you spend time with Pei Ming?”
Feng Xin rolled his eyes. “Take it or leave it.”
Mu Qing’s ears went red as he scoffed. “Don’t hold your breath, those lines won’t work on me.”
“Okay, okay, new one.” Feng Xin cleared his throat dramatically, clearly bracing himself for the unveiling of something truly profound. He puffed out his chest and declared, “‘A thousand blossoms cannot compare to your beauty, and yet here you are, cooking soup instead of gracing the heavens.’”
Mu Qing froze, spoon mid-air, and slowly turned to stare at him. “What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Good nonsense,” Feng Xin replied shamelessly. “Did it work? Do you feel flattered?”
“I feel like you’ve been reading bad poetry again, worse than the ones written about you, Ju Yang, ” Mu Qing deadpanned. He turned back to the stove, muttering, “You’re lucky I haven’t chased you out yet.”
“Ah, but you haven’t let go of my sleeve,” Feng Xin countered triumphantly. “Clearly, my charms are working.”
Mu Qing smacked him lightly with the spoon, though the faint smile on his face betrayed his true feelings. He didn’t let go of Feng Xin’s sleeve.
Mu Qing stirred the pot more vigorously, pretending the bubbling broth was the source of his frustration and not the alpha standing smugly beside him.
“You have too much time on your hands,” he muttered.
“And yet, I choose to spend it with you. You should be thankful.” Feng Xin replied, his grin growing wider.
Mu Qing shot him a withering glare. “You’re worse than Hua Cheng.”
Feng Xin frowned and pushed him. “Don’t compare me to that lizard.”
“Hm.” Mu Qing’s lips twitched, but he refused to let the smirk escape. “If the shoe fits…”
“Careful, or I might just leave you to fend for yourself.” Feng Xin tugged his sleeve gently, testing the omega’s reaction.
Without missing a beat, Mu Qing tightened his grip on the fabric and muttered, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Feng Xin blinked, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in Mu Qing’s voice. The teasing smirk softened into something gentler as he replied, “I wouldn’t actually leave, you know.”
“Good,” Mu Qing murmured, stirring the soup. “Because I need someone to taste this.”
Feng Xin leaned in closer, sniffing the air. “It smells fine to me, but are you sure you didn’t add poison?”
This earned him another swat with the spoon, but the edges of Mu Qing’s expression were undeniably softer now.
“Keep talking, and I’ll add you to the recipe,” Mu Qing retorted, though the heat in his voice was almost playful.
Feng Xin raised an eyebrow, his grin turning sharp. “What, you think you’re Qi Rong now? Making human stews?”
“Ugh,” Mu Qing shuddered. “Do not mention that name around me.”
“You know–”
“Eat your soup and shut up,” Mu Qing said, finally letting go of Feng Xin’s sleeve to grab a bowl. For a moment, Feng Xin missed the tug on his arm.
“You didn’t deny it,” Feng Xin quipped, accepting the bowl with a grin.
After taking a sip, he gave a small nod. The broth was savory, with a hint of spice that added a refreshing kick. It reminded him of the meals Mu Qing used to make when Xie Lian was still a prince. After training, Feng Xin would always help himself to the food, and it was far better than anything made by the palace chefs. “Tastes good—just like the food back in Xianle.”
Mu Qing huffed, but this time, he didn’t bother hiding his small smile.
Mu Qing carried their bowls to the table, each step poised and balanced, and settled beside Feng Xin. As they began eating, his hand instinctively found its way back to Feng Xin’s sleeve, holding on lightly. Feng Xin smirked but said nothing, savoring the warmth of the soup—and the moment.
He watched as Mu Qing ate. The omega never leaned forward to the bowl, rather, he brought the bowl up to his face. His movements were effortless, and annoyingly, it made Mu Qing look almost regal.
“So,” Feng Xin began casually, swirling his spoon in the broth, “doesn’t your neck feel cold?”
Mu Qing frowned, glancing at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Your neck,” Feng Xin repeated, gesturing vaguely. “So bare. So empty. You must be freezing.”
Mu Qing narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious. “What nonsense are you spouting now?”
Feng Xin leaned back in his chair, giving an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just saying, maybe you should, I don’t know, wear something. Like, oh, a collar. Something warm, something... personal.”
The omega stared at him, unimpressed. “Do you ever stop talking?”
“Not when I’m making good points,” Feng Xin shot back, grinning. “Come on, think about it. A collar could be nice. You’d look—”
“If you say anything about me looking ‘cute,’ I will dump this soup on your head,” Mu Qing interrupted, his tone flat but his ears burning red. “And I won’t wear a collar.”
Feng Xin frowned “Why not? It’s meaningful.”
Mu Qing scoffed, glaring at his soup as though it had personally offended him. “Meaningful? It’s a glorified leash. I am not wearing one.”
“It’s not a leash!” Feng Xin protested, sitting up straighter. “Well, some omegas like leashes. . . But, a collar is symbolic. Like... a sign of our bond.”
“It is a leash,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, and let go of Feng Xin’s sleeve. “It is humiliating to walk around with it on, like I’m a toy to be paraded.”
“It’s so others know you’re–”
“If you say ‘mine,’ I’m walking out of this kitchen,” Mu Qing cut in, his voice dangerously calm.
Feng Xin smacked his shoulders. “You are mine. Regardless of what you say.”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, though the tips of his ears betrayed a faint blush. “Ridiculous.”
“Think about it, though,” Feng Xin continued, leaning on the table. “We could get something simple. Maybe black—goes with everything. Or silver, to match your—”
“Are you designing jewelry now?” Mu Qing interrupted, glaring at him. “I thought you were dealt with fights and war, not fashion.”
Feng Xin leaned forward with a crooked grin. “Shows what you know. A real alpha’s got to have range. You wouldn’t understand.”
Mu Qing scoffed, stirring his soup more aggressively than necessary. “You’re all range and no depth. Would you like having someone mark you like a dog? Ugh, why am I even asking, you’d probably like it anyway.”
“At least I have strength to cover up for myself,” Feng Xin shot back, ignoring the backhanded insult. “You wouldn’t last a second in a fight without your sharp tongue.”
“Unlike you, my brain makes up for whatever I lack. Something you don’t have,” Mu Qing snapped, finally lifting his gaze to glare at the alpha. “You’re not putting anything around my neck.”
“Not even if it was from Dianxia?” Feng Xin teased, his grin widening.
Mu Qing faltered for a split second before scowling. “That’s dirty playing. And my answer is still no. Now shut up and eat, enough with your nasty thoughts.”
Feng Xin’s gaze never wavered as he watched Mu Qing stew in frustration, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, something dangerous.
Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s bite marks were fading, meaning Mu Qing’s neck would be bare. That wouldn’t do. Until Mu Qing had a collar, he needed to be marked by them.
He leaned in closer, his gaze dropping to Mu Qing's neck, lingering for a moment before he pounced.
Before Mu Qing could react, Feng Xin was on him. He was fast, too fast, and Mu Qing felt a sudden pressure on his neck as Feng Xin sank his teeth into his scent gland. It wasn’t gentle; the bite was firm and deliberate, pulling a sharp gasp from Mu Qing.
The pain was immediate, biting and intense, sending a shockwave straight to his core. Mu Qing’s arms immediately found Feng Xin’s chest and tried pushing him. The omega’s body betrayed him, weakly trembling as the sharpness of the bite made him weak, unable to move the larger man.
“F-Feng Xin! Are you crazy!? Get off of me!” Mu Qing yelled. His voice was rough, unlike his usual condescending tone.
Feng Xin held him in place, biting down harder, forcing Mu Qing’s head to tilt, his body going slack in the grip of the alpha’s dominance. It wasn’t enough to cause harm, but it was enough to leave him feeling… small, taken.
"Is that any way to talk to your alpha?" Feng Xin’s voice was low, growling, and the words wrapped around Mu Qing like a chain. It was a simple question, but the underlying meaning was unmistakable. Mu Qing could feel it deep in his chest—he wasn’t allowed to escape.
Mu Qing squirmed beneath Feng Xin, trying to free himself, but Feng Xin was unyielding. The alpha’s grip was too firm, pinning him down, and Mu Qing’s attempts to push him away only led to more tension building between them. The feeling of the bite overwhelmed him. Despite his resistance, the more he fought, the more the weight of his submission pressed down on him, dragging him deeper into the headspace Feng Xin had guided him into.
“Feng Xin.” he hissed, but it came out breathless, a whimper instead of a command.
Feng Xin didn’t let up. His hand slid under Mu Qing’s chin, lifting his face as he let the bite linger for a moment longer. The power he held over Mu Qing was palpable, and in the silence of the kitchen, there was only the soft, ragged breathing of the omega under his control.
"That’s better," Feng Xin muttered, finally pulling back slightly, but his grip on Mu Qing’s neck remained possessive, not letting go just yet. “See? You’d look perfect in a collar. Something to remind everyone who you belong to.”
====
Later, Feng Xin begrudgingly washed the dishes while Mu Qing sulked in the corner. The omega refused to do anything, instead wallowing by himself on the mattress near the kitchen, glaring at Feng Xin.
Xie Lian had taken one look at them and immediately cooed at Mu Qing, enveloping him into a hug. He gently guided Mu Qing to sit on his lap, allowing Mu Qing to reach out and stroke Ruoye affectionately. Ruoye seemed to like him, and immediately wrapped itself around Mu Qing.
“Qing-er, you poor thing,” Xie Lian teased gently, his fingers brushing over the faint bite mark on Mu Qing’s neck. “Feng Xin really didn’t hold back, did he?”
Mu Qing stiffened, his face flushing as he mumbled, “It’s nothing.”
Feng Xin smirked as he dried his hands on a towel, stepping closer to the pair. “Nothing, huh? That’s funny, considering how you were whimpering and crying earlier,” he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
Mu Qing’s ears burned as he spun to glare at him. “That’s not something to be proud of.”
“Now, now, Feng Xin, don’t tease him too much,” Xie Lian said, his tone slightly protective. He rubbed soothing circles on Mu Qing’s back. “You’ve already done enough for one day.”
Feng Xin leaned casually against the counter.“Dianxia, you and Crimson Rain did worse. But hey, just saying, it’s not bad.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” Mu Qing snapped and moved to stand, fists balled in anger. “None of you do. I'm not a toy for you to laugh about biting.”
Before he even took a step forward, Ruoye tightened around him and pulled him back. With a surprised gasp, he fell back against Xie Lian, the latter immediately wrapping his arms around him.
Xie Lian chuckled softly, his grip on Mu Qing steady and comforting. “Careful now. Ruoye seems to agree you need to stay put. Maybe that’s for the best.”
Mu Qing huffed, crossing his arms while leaning against Xie Lian. “This is ridiculous. I can’t move with it dragging me down.”
“Hey!” Feng Xin protested, tossing the dishcloth aside as he approached. “Ruoye’s giving you attention. You're cruel enough to deny it that?”
“Why would I like being manhandled and humiliated?” Mu Qing shot back, his voice sharp despite the faint tremor betraying his lingering fluster.
Xie Lian’s gentle laughter filled the room as he pressed his chin lightly to the omega’s shoulder. “A-Qing, it’s okay. Ruoye likes you because it recognizes you as part of our pack.”
“Pack, mates—” Mu Qing’s voice faltered for a moment before he huffed in frustration. “That’s all well and good, but I have duties. I need to get back to the heavens to answer prayers. There are mortals depending on me.”
Feng Xin shook his head. “Not a chance. You’re not stepping foot back there until you’re properly rested.”
Mu Qing scowled. “I am rested.”
“You’re not even close,” Feng Xin shot back, his tone stubborn as ever. “And don’t think for a second you can sneak off.”
Xie Lian nodded, his soothing presence balancing Feng Xin’s rougher edge. “Feng Xin’s right. You’ve been running yourself into the ground. If you went back like this, you’d just exhaust yourself further.”
Mu Qing’s glare softened for a moment, but then his jaw set in defiance. “Then what do you expect me to do? Just sit here indefinitely?”
“Well,” Feng Xin began, his lips quirking into a grin. “Not indefinitely. Just until you’re wearing a collar.”
Mu Qing’s eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed. “A what ?”
“A collar,” Feng Xin said matter-of-factly. “It’s practical. It’ll let everyone know you’re ours, and it’ll make sure you don’t push yourself too hard. Win-win.”
“That’s absurd! I already told you no!” Mu Qing snapped, though his voice wavered slightly. He turned to Xie Lian, pleading for sanity. “Dianxia, you can’t possibly agree with this nonsense.”
Xie Lian gave him a soft, understanding smile, brushing a hand gently through Mu Qing’s hair. “It’s not nonsense, Qing-er. We want to protect you. A collar is just a symbol of our bond.”
Mu Qing groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I am not a dog. I cannot walk around with a collar in the Heavens.”
“Then you stay here.” Feng Xin snapped.
“Dianxia, say something!”
Ruoye coiled tighter around Mu Qing, almost as if agreeing with Feng Xin’s words. Xie Lian stayed silent for a moment, watching Mu Qing, then sighed.
He gestured for Ruoye to return to him, which it obediently did. Xie Lian then eased Mu Qing onto the mattress and reached for the ties of his robes.
Mu Qing stiffened, his eyes widening as Xie Lian worked on untying his belt. His hands flew to Xie Lian’s, halting his movements. “Dianxia, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice unsteady.
The room felt heavier, the alphas both undoubtedly catching the nervous edge in his scent and the tremor in his tone.
“How is your health, Qing-er?” Xie Lian asked, ignoring the question entirely. He continued undressing Mu Qing, carefully pulling away the layers until only his outer robes remained. His hands paused on the collar, waiting.
“Don’t dishonor me,” Mu Qing pleaded, his voice quieter now.
Memories flashed through his mind—his days as a servant, watching other omegas duck their heads and hurry past nobles, hoping to avoid their attention. The way he, even while pretending to be a Beta, hadn’t been spared their mockery. The only thing he’d held onto was his dignity.
“There’s no dishonor in this,” Feng Xin said firmly, his gaze steady. “You’re part of our pack. You’re our mate.”
“Answer me,” Xie Lian pressed gently but firmly. “How is your health?”
“I’m fine!” Mu Qing snapped, though his voice wavered.
Xie Lian opened Mu Qing’s outer robes, and the omega instinctively tried to retreat, but Xie Lian held him steady, his hands ghosting over the omega’s trembling frame.
Once Mu Qing’s chest was fully exposed–something he'd never shown anyone before, not even Feng Xin in their 800 years together--Xie Lian ran his hands against his abdomen.
He could feel Feng Xin looking at him, staring at his nipples.
Shameless! He thought, but his inner omega was enveloped with joy.
"Let's see," Xie Lian murmured, tracing his fingers lightly over Mu Qing’s ribs, which were visible. "Your body is extremely hot, thin enough for your ribs to show even though you are a Heavenly Official who should not be affected by diet. You’re trembling, sensitive to even the faintest scents…”
“I’ve always been like that,” Mu Qing mumbled, turning his head away.
Xie Lian didn’t relent. “A-Qing, you didn’t even notice—you’re in preheat.”
The words struck like a gong, pulling Mu Qing out of his denial. “I’m not!” he protested, though the panic in his tone betrayed him.
His hands clenched at his sides as he pushed himself up, determined to leave. “I don’t need this. I need to return to my duties in the heavens. There are prayers to answer—responsibilities to fulfill. I’m not some helpless omega you need to fuss over.”
Xie Lian placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him back down. “Qing-er, you’re in no condition to take on anything right now. You’re exhausted, and you’re our responsibility.”
“I’m fine!” Mu Qing snapped, though his voice cracked with frustration. “This—this is unnecessary.”
Feng Xin crossed his arms, his tone sharp. “You’re stubborn, as always, but even you can’t argue with the facts. You’re in preheat. You won’t last long up there without proper care, and you know it.”
“Then give me my suppressants back!”
“Are you serious? Then we’re back to square one, idiot!”
“Am I speaking to a wall?!” Mu Qing snarked, fuming with anger. “Do you even hear the words that are coming out of my mouth, or are you trying to establish your stupid alpha dominance regardless?”
Xie Lian softened his voice, leaning closer. “Qing-er, no one is trying to trap you. But we need to ensure you’re safe. Here’s what we’ll do—until we can get you a collar, one of us will accompany you whenever you leave. No exceptions.”
Mu Qing’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“It’s not negotiable,” Xie Lian said gently but firmly. “You’re part of this pack now. We take care of each other, and that includes you.”
With a resigned sigh, Mu Qing slumped back into Xie Lian’s arms, his protests dwindling to a quiet murmur.
Feng Xin rolled his eyes. “You’ve put up with me for centuries. It wasn’t an issue then, so why should it be one now?”
Mu Qing stayed silent, but he bitterly thought, I chose to have you around back then—and you weren’t trying to control me.