Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang slumps against the wall of his house. He’s exhausted, hands trembling, the stench of blood thick in his nose and the slippery feeling of viscera slipping through his fingers.
He inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth.
Usually, it’s not so bad. He’s the Qian Cao Head Disciple, he’s stitched enough wounds and stuck enough innards back inside bodies to not have a problem.
But this time.
The disciple was young. An Ding Peak. Maybe ten, if even. He had clung to Mu Qingfang with wide, frightened eyes as Mu Qingfang did his best to stitch up the gaping wound bisecting his torso. The blood made the needle slippery and the gaping white bones of his ribcage are visible.
“Mu-shixiong…will I be okay?”
Mu Qingfang had held his hand and told him it would be okay as he watched the life leave his wide, teary eyes.
He’s not sure why this particular patient had left such a deep mark in his heart. He’s seen young disciples die, been there as they passed.
But this one…
A sob tears from his throat and he quickly goes to a basin of water and scrubs his hands raw, even knowing the slick slide of blood against his hands was only in his mind.