Chapter Text
Shen Jiu ran throughout the corridor of the hospital. His school uniform was drenched from the rain and stuck obnoxiously to his horribly pale skin. He was shivering from the cold but his condition however bad it was would be the last thing on his mind right now.
As soon as the homeroom teacher called him to inform about the incident, it felt like a knife was pushed to his heart. They ate breakfast together this morning, all five of them, smiling peacefully while asking each other's plans tonight so they could have a movie night. His mother was feeding baby A-Yuan while eating herself, his father was braiding A-Qiao's long, silky hair so it wouldn't be on the way during his training later, and Shen Jiu himself was helping his parents preparing their documents for a check-up on his mother's last trimester. Without words said, everyone had been very excited to welcome a new addition to the family.
Who knew in just a few hours, that moment turned to be only wishful thinking in a nightmarish reality. What would have become of Shen Jiu's family?
“A truck went past the red light and hit your parents’ car. They have been brought to the hospital, but I think you should prepare for the worst…” informed his teacher. They said his father died right on the spot, but the help came in time to bring his still breathing heavily-pregnant mother to the hospital they were on the way to, but for a different reason now.
Arriving in the operating room, Shen Jiu saw the clock ticking, informing the surgery that had started a mere half an hour ago and fell ungracefully to the seat. He wasn't the only person inside the waiting room, but not one person had a smile on their face. He received some looks of pity, probably from his haggard appearance, but he couldn't care less. His head felt numb, his heart heavy, and his mouth as dry as desert.
After waiting for what felt like a day, a familiar sound of steps came closer to his direction. Shen Jiu felt someone sitting next to him before he could see who it was.
“Da-ge… Have you seen Dad?” said A-Qiao, on his arms sat baby A-Yuan who was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the torment surrounding his elder brothers. Shen Jiu shook his head. He would see him after making sure his mother was alright. He honestly couldn't bring himself to say goodbye to his father so soon, let him pretend a little longer that his father was just being checked over by a doctor.
“Don't worry, Da-ge, Mom is going to be okay. The baby, too. They are strong, I believe it,” A-Qiao said. Oh, sweet, reliable Shen Qiao who only has positivity and kindness in his heart, even the words felt like empty promises on Shen Jiu's ears, already blaming the whole world for the injustice given to them.
A doctor came out of the surgery room, his face void of emotions when he walked to where Shen Jiu and Shen Qiao were huddling close together.
“Family of Shen Jingxue?” he addressed them, Shen Jiu still couldn't get a read on his face, fearing that no happy message would be heard coming from him. Shen Qiao replied quietly when his elder brother couldn't.
“Shen Jingxue was subjected to a blunt impact on her head and was suffering an internal bleeding on her frontal lobe. She had been slowly losing her consciousness all the way to the hospital, and was diagnosed brain dead when she arrived. Thankfully, the ambulance came on time, otherwise a minute later we wouldn't have been able to save the baby in her womb. The baby survived, but we are sorry we couldn't save the mother… you may see them later after they are moved to another room.”
A sob broke through, Shen Jiu crumpled down to the seat. A-Qiao didn't fare better, he cried silently while hugging little A-Yuan close to his chest. A-Yuan was awakened by their sobbing, letting out confused whines and petting A-Qiao's head in sympathy, like a good boy he was.
What was going to happen to them now? They couldn't take care of a newborn baby without their parents. And what about the money? Although all necessities were fulfilled, they weren't exactly loaded. Shen Jiu as the oldest was barely fifteen, who was going to employ him for a job that covered a family of four?
“Da-ge, I think we would need help. We should call Auntie Yue and inform her,” A-Qiao said, the first one to pull himself out of misery.
Shen Jiu pulled up his phone, absentmindedly calling Auntie Yue's son, Qi-ge, instead of her. The call didn't produce a ringing until a robotic sound said that the number was no longer active. Their elder cousin was currently studying abroad in Japan. Perhaps something happened to his phone that he had to change his number. A small part in Shen Jiu's mind was angry that the elder boy didn't care to inform him first, the closest friends Qi-ge has.
Thus he called another number, this time went through to a woman with a shrill, tense voice.
“Auntie Yue, this is Shen Jiu…”
“Yes, yes, speak. I was about to leave the house to meet up with someone. What is it about?” Her clipped sound put some doubts in Shen Jiu's fragile heart. Auntie Yue was the only relative the Shen family had, she was the eldest sister of his mother and although they were family, she had been disapproving of Shen Jiu's choices all her life. He could count in one hand how many times he had met Auntie Yue and every time she had a deep frown on her never-smiling face. The contrast between Qi-ge's and her personalities should have been researched by now.
“Auntie, it's mom and dad…” Shen Jiu's voice quivered, he took a deep breath to steady it. “They had an accident–”
“What?! Did they die?” how could such cruel words come so easily for her?
“They were on the way to the hospital for a check-up but a truck struck their car. D-dad and mom didn't survive…”
“Both of them?! What about the baby? Jingxue is pregnant, isn't she?”
“The baby lives, the doctors saved it… Auntie, we didn't know what to do after this…”
The line was silent for a while, only hard breathing on Shen Jiu's part. “Fine, you stay there. I'll get my husband and we'll go there with you. The least we can do for your parents should be a proper burial ceremony.” Then the call ended.
Not one who was good with words, Shen Qiao moved closer to hug his elder brother with Shen Yuan in the middle.
===
Shen Jiu stood silently, clad in white mourning robes, their edges still damp from earlier rain and streaked faintly with soil. Beside him stood Shen Qiao, equally pale and expressionless. Their little sibling, A-Yuan, too young to grasp the weight of grief, nestled restlessly in Shen Jiu’s arms, rooting sleepily against his chest in search of a mother who would never answer again.
The funeral had ended not long ago. The air still smelled of burnt incense and damp earth, the last wisps of smoke curling lazily from the offering brazier. The burial ground was quiet now, save for the low rustle of wind through pine trees and the occasional murmuring of guests taking their leave. Their parents had been laid to rest side by side, simple headstones marking the end of what had once been a life of warmth. The ceremony had been small, rushed—just a handful of close acquaintances, coworkers, and neighbours—but Shen Jiu felt a flicker of gratitude all the same.
His tears had long since dried, leaving behind the dull weight of numbness that sat in his chest like stone. Everything had happened too quickly. The last clear memory he had was of standing outside the surgery room, hands clenched and heart hammering in his throat. Now, his parents were gone. Just like that.
But Shen Jiu was the eldest. He didn’t have the luxury of falling apart.
He glanced down at A-Yuan, still clinging to him with tiny fists, soft breath warm against the fabric of his robe. Then at Shen Qiao, who looked dazed but obediently held onto his hand. And then, now there was Shen Zechuan—their newborn baby brother. The loveliest, most serene little boy who hadn’t even had the chance to meet the parents who gave him life. He was still sleeping in the hospital crib, unaware that his future now rested in the hands of his elder siblings.
Shen Zechuan looked the most like Shen Jiu—a familiar curve to the cheek, the same slope to the nose, slanted eyes like a fox, thick lashes, and sharp thin eyebrows—but he had their father's gentle brown eyes, the same as Shen Qiao. He was a quiet, placid infant, calm even in unfamiliar surroundings. Shen Jiu was grateful for that small mercy. While the rest of them braced against the storm of loss, Shen Zechuan remained peaceful. Innocent.
Shen Jiu tightened his grip on A-Qiao’s hand. No. He couldn’t afford to hesitate. He had three brothers now. He had to keep them safe. He had to figure out how to keep them alive.
He needed help.
Still holding A-Yuan, he led Shen Qiao toward where Auntie and Uncle Yue were gathering their things. The adults were in the midst of closing up the pavilion, folding away chairs and picking up some trashes. Shen Jiu paused for a moment before speaking, forcing down the lump in his throat.
"Uncle," he said, voice steady but quiet, "we still need to talk. I was hoping you could help us figure out what to do next. Auntie... will you help us raise A-Yuan and Chuan’er? We’ll need advice, at least."
Uncle Yue didn’t even look up. "We’re going home first," he said mildly, almost too casually, as if they were parting after a weekend visit. "Call me if you need anything."
Shen Jiu’s breath hitched. That tone, so light, so distant, sent a chill down his spine.
He turned to Auntie Yue, searching her face. "Please… we don’t know what to do yet. We're still underage. I don’t even know how to register the guardianship for Chuan’er. Can you—"
Auntie Yue looked at him with a soft kind of pity. She stepped forward and lightly tapped his cheek, not unkindly, though her smile was hollow. Her eyes avoided his. “You’re a smart boy, Shen Jiu. Shen Qiao, too. You both are almost seventeen. I’m sure you’ll manage. Your parents… they never needed much help from the family, right? They probably left you a good inheritance. This… this funeral is all we could do.”
And with that, they turned and walked away, their white sleeves fluttering as they disappeared down the path, leaving the four brothers alone in a world suddenly far too wide and cold.
Shen Jiu stood there, unmoving. Then he looked down at A-Yuan, the two years old baby had fallen asleep against his shoulder, lips parted in a peaceful dream. Shen Qiao squeezed his hand gently, eyes red but dry. He looked resigned but determined.
Shen Jiu exhaled slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line.
No one else was coming.
It was just them now.
And somehow, they would survive.
===
After a few days in the hospital, the doctors finally deemed baby Shen Zechuan healthy enough to go home. Knowing their situation, many of the nurses offered advice on how to care for a newborn as well as a young toddler. Some asked intrusive questions about whether they had any family to help, and Shen Jiu lied, saying they had an aunt and uncle nearby. He was, after all, less than two years away from adulthood, and his younger brother, Shen Qiao, was only a year behind.
Once they got home, Shen Jiu and Shen Qiao sat down to calculate their financial situation. Shen Jiu had managed to secure both of their parents’ savings, and they tried to estimate the cost of raising two babies alongside themselves—two teenagers—over the next ten years.
During this long and stressful discussion, Shen Yuan fell ill. His temperature soared and his breathing turned shallow. Born with weaker lungs, he had struggled occasionally in the past, but never this severely or for this long. When their parents had been alive, they'd always known what to do. Now, alone, Shen Jiu and Shen Qiao were lost and scared.
They took turns shopping, cooking, cleaning, and caring for both Chuan’er and A-Yuan, who had grown too weak to cry for their mother. True to his fear, all the Yue family never bothered to answer their calls and messages, let alone calling them for a check-up. Shen Jiu took it upon himself to bring A-Yuan to the doctor, who prescribed medicine and recommended buying a breathing aid. Even in the first week, they had already spent so much. Though health insurance helped, supporting four people with no income was overwhelming.
Shen Zechuan, too, was often sick. He ran fevers, and at night, when he felt unwell, he would cry in a soft, broken voice that made his brothers' hearts ache. Still, Shen Jiu and Shen Qiao stayed strong—because they had no one else. They only had each other.
It was a small mercy that summer break had just started, giving them a full month to dedicate to their younger brothers.
They began talking about their future. A kind neighbor, a lonely grandma who missed the presence of her grandchildren, offered to look after the babies on weekday mornings and afternoons for a modest fee. Still, they couldn’t rely on her entirely, especially as her health gradually declined. So, Shen Jiu and Shen Qiao both took on part-time jobs. Shen Jiu worked at a diner and the local library, while Shen Qiao found work as a cleaner at a gym. When money ran tight, Shen Jiu took illegal late-night cleaning shifts at a bar on weekends where the tips were good, though increasingly rare as they adjusted to their routine.
Neither Shen Yuan nor Shen Zechuan were as healthy as their elder brothers. They took turns falling sick, and Shen Yuan, unlike other kids his age who played tags in the park, had to stay in bed all day. But he never complained. He spent his days quietly watching his gentle, playful baby brother who laid beside him. The soft comfort of each other’s presence helped ease the loneliness as their big brothers studied and worked.
As someone who held education in the highest regard, Shen Jiu’s heart shattered when Shen Qiao announced his decision not to pursue university. He knew how expensive tuition would be, but he believed Shen Qiao deserved the opportunity more than anyone. They could apply for scholarships or work part-time as campus staff or helpers. Shen Qiao, however, insisted otherwise. Shen Jiu was the best at studying, he said, his Da-ge was always made for academia. He made Shen Jiu promise to study hard and become a professor, to live the dream Shen Jiu felt could no longer chase, and to be the one responsible for their little brothers’ education.
Instead, Shen Qiao would follow a different path. His passion had always been in sports, and he wanted to follow his dream to train as a Wushu athlete while continuing part-time jobs to keep a flexible schedule to care for the babies, especially as the grandma's health declined.
So they worked. And studied. Cleaned the house. Cooked. Fed and bathed the children. Cared for them until the little ones grew strong enough to sit up on their own, to laugh, to play quietly when their brothers needed to rest. Shen Yuan and Shen Zechuan grew into bright, well-mannered children, already learning not to disturb their hardworking siblings.
Eventually, Shen Jiu presented as an omega. With it came the added burden of suppressant medication which was unfairly expensive but necessary. He had hoped to present as a beta, unburdened by the harsh consequence of ruts and heats. Even Shen Qiao began showing signs that he might be an omega too, another reason he quietly let go of university with the eventual financial burden of his own suppressants. Shen Jiu was furious at fate, but he never blamed Shen Qiao. His brother was talented, kind, and selfless—a steady anchor for their family. If Shen Qiao gave up so much, Shen Jiu would give more. He pushed himself harder, sacrificing sleep and comfort to earn more, study more, plan better.
But it was okay.
Shen Jiu was resourceful. He was smart. He would achieve everything he set out to do.
As long as his brothers were safe, healthy, and happy, he would do anything.