CH 48.2

For once, Mu Mu’er wakes up before Bai Yao the next morning.

Perhaps he slept way too early last night. Mu Mu’er is awake before eight, and so is waiting for Bai Yao to wake up. Bored, he starts playing with Bai Yao’s fingers, and touching Bai Yao’s eyelids, wondering why he’s still sleeping.

Bai Yao’s hair has grown a little, and he normally ties it into a bun. Now they’re scattered about the pillow. Mu Mu’er takes a handful to play with, and tries to tie them up.

It’d be weirder if Bai Yao doesn’t wake up from this.

“I’m gonna go bald if you keep going, my boy.”

His voice is lower in tone than usual, and feels ‘stickier.’

Bai Yao almost always wakes up before Mu Mu’er, which means he doesn’t usually hear his voice like this. Mu Mu’er appears quite surprised, lets the hair go, then starts looking at Bai Yao with both worry and fright.

A sentence in and he’s already spooked?

Bai Yao can only give his hair back to Mu Mu’er, mumbling, “here you go, one bald snow leopard in the making.”

They finish their morning routines quickly, and are ready to explore.

Mu Mu’er is visibly excited, and seems to find Bai Yao too slow to change clothes, hopping into his embrace from the bathroom door as soon as it opens.

“Woah, be patient, alright?”

“Why ‘patient’?” Mu Mu’er looks up with curiosity in his eyes.

Bai Yao can’t come up with a reason, and shuts up.

When they’re about to leave the door, though, Bai Yao suddenly recalls something gravely important, and stops.

Mu Mu’er, following closely behind, crashes spectacularly. He stumbles two steps back, holding his nose, looking up quizzacally.

“Mu’er, you must remember this first, alright?” Bai Yao only continues after Mu Mu’er nods, “never, never ever ever, turn back into a sea otter here. Not even if there isn’t anyone around. People cannot know that Mu’er is a sea otter, ok?”

Mu Mu’er replies, “mm~”

Bai Yao makes sure Mu Mu’er understood before they finally move out.

Xishi is the closest big city to the small town of Qiaohai. There are skyscrapers all around. Twenty minutes’ walk from the city centre is a wide river that is actually upstream from Qiaohai. The river goes from cities much further inland down all the way to Qiaohai.

There are small piers built up all along the shore, with many white sailboats about. The river is just clear enough for fish to be visible at places.

Bai Yao takes Mu Mu’er strolling by the riverbank for a while.

Mu Mu’er doesn’t seem to like the river, though, and would walk on the side closer to the road than the shore. Bai Yao asks for a reason, but Mu Mu’er doesn’t have one. He just doesn’t like it.

Bai Yao suspects it’s because the river is wide enough to look like the ocean, and Mu Mu’er doesn’t like the ocean. Given that, Bai Yao takes Mu Mu’er back to the city centre, where they grab breakfast at a confectionery.

They eat while walking, until they arrive at a busy plaza.

Mu Mu’er makes a muffled ‘wow,’ as the sight overwhelms him. Even if someone is just throwing away tissues in the bin, Mu Mu’er has to go check out if it’s something good or edible that he can make use of.

Bai Yao can only make sure he holds the boy’s hand tightly, in case he runs off when he isn’t looking. He’s actually not much of a fan of places like this. It’s too noisy, with the noise coming from everywhere, like a suffocating blanket wrapped from the heart to the fingertip.

He doesn’t have a sense of belonging or love for any city in the entire world. Used to drifting around in the past, he believes he is most comfortable living by the coast, on the beaches.

It’s been over a year since Bai Yao last came to Xishi, and the changes are evident. There are more streets, and some of the deserted, empty plots of land have become shopping centres.

There are more people around – more sentient beastkins, too.

Mu Mu’er cannot distinguish between human and beastkin scents, and doesn’t notice them at all amongst all the vibrant, colourful shops and advertisments.

He also looks whenever cars honk, and then looks around him once more. Two eyes are definitely not enough for him, the inquisitive soul trying to take in all the sights around him.

Bai Yao looks around. There’s a sentient hedgehog among the staff in that luxury brand store. That girl there handing out flyers is a flamingo. The middle-aged man that just walked past them is… either a mouse or a rat. He can’t tell; he came and went very quickly.

Along the way, Bai Yao also tries to quietly explain to Mu Mu’er how to discern sentient beastkins from humans by scent. Mu Mu’er isn’t listening, however, just ‘mm’ing along to everything Bai Yao says.

Bai Yao gives up. Maybe another time.

That’s when a rather fashionable-looking lady with a branded handbag comes into sight, gives Bai Yao a few cursory glances, before giving him a suggestive smile.

A sentient weasel.

When she’s some ways behind them, Bai Yao goes ‘tch,’ and asks Mu Mu’er, “did you smell that?”

Mu Mu’er didn’t pay much attention. He thinks about it for a while, before hesitantly replying, “durian egg tarts…”

“…” Oh dear.

Each species of beastkin carries their own scent. It’s not exactly a smell, but it can remind those who sense it of something close to that scent.

Snow leopards generally have a scent that remind people of cold rain droplets in a wintry forest, for example. Sea otters’ scent reminds one of moss growing on oak trees after a shower. It’s a warm, arboreal aroma.

Weasels would rank top three in Bai Yao’s list of ‘foul scents,’ with skunks taking the top place, of course.

Bai Yao almost bursts into laughter. He squeezes Mu Mu’er’s hand a little, and tells him, “yes. Whenever you smell the ‘durian egg tarts,’ stay far, far away. Those people are very troublesome.”

Sentient weasels are quite notorious for their scheming nature even after they anthropomorphise. It’s far too easy to fall for one of their schemes, so it’s better to keep a safe distance.

Mu Mu’er looks conflicted, and after some thought, says, “but durian egg tarts are tasty.”

Bai Yao sighs. How could he explain to the little silly sea otter that he’s not actually talking about durian egg tarts right now?

They walk past two teenage boys sitting in front of a café. They’re probably brothers, and are both wearing the same blue and white school uniform. They are also sentient snow leopards, and after they sense Bai Yao’s presence, turn and nod politely to him.

Bai Yao is surprised to see this amount of sentient beastkin on his walk through the city. They’ve come across at least ten. He remembers that most sentient beastkins prefer to live out in the quieter countryside when he was younger. The trend of increasing urbanisation appears to also hold true for sentient beastkins.

If Bai Yao could pick, he wouldn’t pick life in the city. At least, not in a noisy city like Xishi.

Then they happen to walk close by a man standing by a rather showy Mercedes-Maybach. The man feels familiar in scent; Bai Yao has spent so much time with another species of the same scent that he can even recognise him in his sleep.

So he can’t help but look and observe.

The man is in formal attire, with his black suit unbuttoned at the collar. He looks like one of those cold and distant, disinterested types. He’s pretty tall, and he can see the girls passing by generally giving him an extra look or two.

He’s also a sentient sea otter.

Bai Yao raises his brow. Maybe he should introduce him to Mu Mu’er if he has the chance. They’re probably going to have many common topics.

The man seems to have also noticed Mu Mu’er, and turns to look their way – Bai Yao, however, has already turned to the next street with Mu Mu’er. The man only sees their silhouettes disappear off the corner.