The Beta Wife Claimed by Competing Alphas - Chapter 24

Mu Yan propped himself up with his arms and slowly crawled to his feet.

But his relationship with his brother hadn’t always been perfect.

Even biological siblings often question if their parents are being partial, let alone a family like theirs.

Many of Mu Yan’s original clothes had been washed so thin they were practically translucent; even with patches over the holes, they offered little warmth. In the countryside, families like theirs usually only bought new clothes for the children during the Lunar New Year. Mu Juanhua couldn’t bear to see the boy shivering in such thin fabric, so she took some of Lin Yi’s old clothes and altered them to fit Mu Yan.

In rural areas, it was perfectly normal for younger siblings to wear hand-me-downs. Both Lin Yi and Mu Juanhua were meticulous people, so Lin Yi’s old clothes were far more decent than Mu Yan’s thin, tattered rags.

However, through the eyes of a young Mu Yan, it didn’t feel that way.

When Mu Juanhua eventually found him, Mu Yan was sitting at the village entrance, secretly wiping away tears.

She quickly guessed why he felt aggrieved. But she had her own difficulties; the family’s resources were limited. Even if she wanted to treat both children exactly the same, the older child couldn’t possibly fit into the smaller one’s clothes. If life weren’t so tight, she would have loved to give both children identical toys.

Unfortunately, for the poor, every step forward is a struggle.

Seeing his mother come looking for him, Mu Yan cried even harder.

“Be good, Yan Yan. Don’t cry anymore, okay? Look, your eyes are going to get all swollen.”

Mu Juanhua’s heart ached. She picked him up and coaxed him, saying she would boil an egg for him tomorrow and not tell his brother.

Mu Yan continued to cry, nearly gasping for breath. “Mom… bad Mom… partial…”

Mu Juanhua froze.

That was the first time Mu Yan had called her “Mom.”

Suddenly, she had a hunch about what Mu Yan was thinking—though for a seven-year-old, she might have been overthinking it. Because he had never had a mother, Mu Yan truly viewed her as his own. It was precisely because he loved her that being treated “unequally” felt like such a profound betrayal.

“Be good, Yan Yan,” Mu Juanhua said, her heart heavy. “Mom will earn more money in the future. I won’t let you suffer anymore.”

“In the future” was a difficult concept for a young Mu Yan to grasp. It could be a promise, or it could be a brush-off. Lin Guojun had promised him “in the future” countless times: Mom will come back in the future; I’ll stop gambling in the future; we’ll move to a house that doesn’t leak in the future.

Mu Yan still cried out of a sense of grievance, but children forget quickly. He put on the old but warm and clean clothes and, as usual, happily walked to and from school with his brother.

Mu Juanhua, however, remembered.

That New Year, only Mu Yan got new clothes; Lin Yi did not. Lin Yi wasn’t the type to throw tantrums. When his mother explained it to him, he simply nodded sensibly.

Mu Yan looked at his new clothes and burst into tears again.

“Why do you love crying so much?” Lin Yi looked at him with disdain, his face like a messy little cat. “I’m the one without new clothes and I’m not crying. What are you crying for?”

“Then I don’t want them either…” Mu Yan sobbed, trying to pull the new clothes off. The first month of the lunar year was freezing; Mu Juanhua couldn’t let him make such a scene and quickly stopped him.

“Keep them on, what are you doing?” Mu Juanhua felt a headache coming on. She hurriedly grabbed a tissue to wipe his wet face. “You’ve got tears all over the fabric; they won’t let us return them now.”

“Next year, when the electronics factory in the village opens, I’ll go work there. I’ll be able to buy new clothes for both of you for the New Year…” Mu Juanhua didn’t know if she was talking to the children or to herself.

That year, Lin Guojun and Mu Juanhua had just married. She was gentle and considerate, taking excellent care of the family. Lin Guojun had begun to step out of the shadow of his first wife leaving. When other villagers talked about going to the city for work, he actually worked steadily at a construction site for several years. His gambling addiction wasn’t severe then; he just liked playing poker with coworkers in his spare time.

Those were the most peaceful days of Mu Yan’s life. Coming home from school to hot meals, clean clothes drying in the yard. Occasionally, if he washed the dishes or did the laundry, Mu Juanhua would praise him for three or four days straight until he was practically dizzy with joy. She would even fry a fragrant egg just for him—crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.

When his brother angrily asked why he didn’t get an egg, their mother pointed to the dishes in the sink. “Wash those, and I’ll fry one for you tomorrow too.”

His brother claimed he didn’t care at all, but after dinner, he obediently went to wash the dishes.

Of course, their mother kept her promise and fried an egg for him.

Those days were peaceful and warm, like a dream for Mu Yan. Lin Guojun sent money back regularly, Mu Juanhua did handicraft work to supplement their income, and Mu Yan’s classmates became more mature. Because of his good grades, no one bullied him anymore.

Until a few years later, when his mother was diagnosed with cirrhosis. The family desperately needed money, and Lin Guojun heard from a “trusted friend” about a way to turn ten dollars into a hundred, and a hundred into a thousand.

The dream shattered instantly.

Outside the window, the sky was likely starting to pale. Mu Yan had stayed awake all night.

He checked his phone: 5:40 AM.

It was an awkward time—too late to try and sleep, but too early to contact anyone else. He stared at the screen for a while, only closing his eyes when they began to feel uncomfortable.

His wallpaper was still a photo of him and Lu Chong. Realizing this, he silently changed it back to the default setting. The default water droplet wallpaper looked icy and cold. Mu Yan scrolled through his album for a landscape photo he had taken, only to remember it was from a trip to the botanical garden with Lu Chong.

Mu Yan deleted the photo and chose a generic image from the phone’s built-in gallery that felt a bit warmer.

“Yan Yan, why are you here so early?” His mother sent a message. Mu Yan looked over; she was awake, smiling at him from the hospital bed.

The auntie in the next bed was still asleep, so his mother didn’t want to speak aloud. She didn’t know he had spent the night there. Mu Yan deflected: “Do you want steamed buns from that shop, Mom? Soy milk or tofu pudding?”

“Sweet tofu pudding. Don’t buy it yet. Wait for Auntie Chen to wake up and ask what she wants. Last time her daughter came, she bought me some too.”

Mu Yan didn’t type; he just nodded. His mother beckoned him to sit by the bed.

“Why do you look so pale?”

“Work is a bit busy,” Mu Yan typed. He paused, then added: “It’ll be better in a while.”

“Then why aren’t you going to work today? Did you take leave? Are you busy because you took time off to see me?”

“It’s not leave,” Mu Yan explained. “The company has many Alphas and Omegas; they have rut and heat cycles, so they get special physiological leave. For fairness, Betas get it too.”

In the past, Mu Yan’s “physiological leave” was usually spent during Lu Chong’s rut.

“Then why didn’t you save it for your annual leave? You could have gone on a trip with your friends.” His mother’s text looked a bit reproachful.

“I don’t like traveling. I just like staying at home, being with you.”

His mother reached out and gently stroked his hair. Since falling ill, she had become very thin. Her touch felt like an autumn leaf landing on his head, ready to be swept away by the wind at any moment.

She had once been a very strong woman. Though she was an Omega, she carried water and chopped wood just like anyone else, second to none. Mu Yan’s nose prickled; tears nearly fell.

The steamed bun shop his mother liked was far from the hospital and didn’t offer delivery. Once the neighbor auntie woke up and Mu Yan took her order, he headed out.

The buns were eight yuan a basket. Mu Yan quickly ate some buns and soy milk himself, then took his mother’s order and the neighbor’s pan-fried buns and scanned a shared bicycle. If he walked back, the buns would get cold and lose their flavor.

The morning streets were usually empty, so when the electric scooter appeared at the corner, Mu Yan had no time to react.

Accompanied by the screech of brakes, Mu Yan’s bicycle was violently knocked over. He tumbled to the ground. His knee slammed onto the rough concrete, and a burning pain flared up instantly.

“Are you okay?” The delivery rider hopped off his bike, trying to help Mu Yan up.

The Beta youth lay on the ground, his palms scraped with thin lines of blood. Blood from his knee was also seeping through his thick trousers.

It was likely just a superficial wound, but it looked frightening. His clothes didn’t look expensive, and since he was heading toward the hospital, he looked like someone who was likely short on money. If he decided to extort the rider, there would be no escape.

Cold sweat broke out on the rider’s forehead; his heart hammered.

Mu Yan was dazed for a second, then looked down at the breakfast on the ground. He had tied the bag tightly before riding; some soy milk had spilled, but the buns were intact.

Mu Yan propped himself up with his arms and slowly crawled to his feet. His left knee hurt badly, but it only looked scary, the bone felt fine.

“Sir, do you want to go to the hospital for a check-up? But I really don’t have much money. The company didn’t buy me insurance, and I only make two hundred yuan a day delivering food. I have elderly parents and children at home.”

The rider watched the young man nervously. He didn’t stay on the ground to milk the situation, so he didn’t look like an extortionist, but his silence and pale face were truly alarming. The rider didn’t remember any surveillance cameras on this stretch of road. If he fled now, the youth probably wouldn’t have time to photograph his license plate.

Should I run?

As he hesitated, Mu Yan shook his head slightly.

“Could you please help me ride this bike to the return station? It’s just up ahead.”

The rider froze. Realizing the other party had not only stood up but had no intention of extorting him, he breathed a massive sigh of relief and pushed the bike to the station.

Mu Yan limped through the hospital gates.

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