Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Not long after the show ended, Zhou Xu shared a snap on Weibo of the four kids pulling up radishes.

Under the clear blue sky, each child's adorable face radiated pure joy.

Zhou Xu captioned it: "Our Xiao Qi now has his own iconic photo. @Singer Zhu Wei

@Actor-Chu Han, Yi Ming (hey hotshot, didn’t you say you were gonna go viral? How about opening a Weibo account first [beckoning emoji][beckoning emoji])"

"Is this the one taken with the kids’ smartwatch during the show? Papa Ming Zai’s got skills!"

"A true master can even make a kids' smartwatch work? Respect++."

"When I saw my wife adjusting angles to take the shot, I knew it was something special. And it really is!"

"No armchair critiques! (Shouting at Ming Zai: Open a Weibo account! Post selfies with your little dad! Preferably with your other dad too...)"

"Ming Zai, we can only vote for you if you have a Weibo account. Hurry up and open one!"

Soon after, Zhu Wei and Chu Han also shared the same photo on their Weibos.

Especially Chu Han, who was usually quiet and reserved, made the rare effort to post many smiling emojis, clearly delighted that Xingxing could fit in with the kids.

Soon after, a picture appeared in Zhou Xu's comment section, personally tagging him.

The image was so hilarious that fans and show viewers spammed it in every guest's comments.

It was a meme edit of the famous French painting *Liberty Leading the People* by Eugène Delacroix, created to commemorate the July Revolution.

The central figure holding the flag and raising her arm in a rallying cry was perfectly photoshopped into Ming Yiming standing on a stool during the show.

Among the revolutionary followers behind her, Zhou Xu’s face was cleverly pasted in.

The sheer ridiculousness of the image sparked instant reactions from show viewers, guest fans, and random internet users, sending it straight to the top of trending topics.

*"The moment I remembered Ming Zai is half-Chinese, half-French, I just couldn’t stop laughing."*

*"HAHAHAHAHA omg what kind of cursed shitpost is this?"*

*"Delacroix: Hello there, dear netizen. Just wait till I pry open my coffin to come find you."*

*"Zhou Xu! Do you feel the call and guidance? Ming Zai is summoning you—OK?"*

Zhou Xu also reposted the photo: *"Ming Zai, your iconic photo—Uncle’s keeping this for you."*

He even sent it to the parents’ group chat, tagging Yi Ming’s dad.

However, Wen Cishu was taking a quick nap and didn’t see the picture right away.

His body wasn’t as healthy as he had imagined.

Although the past two days seemed like small-scale activities on the farm, the constant talking and socializing left him completely drained.

As soon as he hit the bed, Wen Cishu passed out cold.

Two doctors checked his vitals, taking turns listening and feeling his pulse, but none of it woke him.

Fortunately, his heart showed no abnormalities. Dr. Lin, the traditional Chinese medicine physician, prescribed an herbal sedative tea for Aunt Zhong to brew and give him before bedtime.

The bed at home was much larger than the one on the show, making Wen Cishu look even thinner.

Half of his pale face was buried in the blanket, his breathing faint—it was heartbreaking to see.

Aunt Zhong brought in a warm towel, but Bao Tingyuan reached out and took it. “I’ll do it.”

She had originally intended to wipe the Second Master’s face herself, but hearing that, she quietly stepped outside.

Though the mansion was located in a bustling urban area, it was surrounded by lush greenery and surprisingly peaceful.

In the afternoon light, the heavy velvet curtains were drawn, and the room was as quiet as midnight.

Wen Cishu’s skin was as pale and thin as parchment, his features delicate like ink brushed onto paper.

Whenever he slept soundlessly, Bao Tingyuan felt as though time had frozen.

Just like that day on the noisy streets of Paris when they first met.

A moment frozen in time.

After a sleepless night, Bao Tingyuan realized how unbearable it had been—just one night apart was more than he could take.

The towel grew cool against Wen Cishu's skin as Bao Tingyuan's fingertips lingered at his temple, then slowly leaned down.

-

Wen Cishu had an unusually tender dream.

In it, Bao Tingyuan cradled his face, kissed his forehead, and whispered to him in French: "From now on, I will take over for your parents and elder brother to care for you. I will never fail you, abandon you, or let you suffer even the slightest hardship."

When he suddenly opened his eyes, only a faint glow of twilight remained in the room, and the deep, husky tone of Bao Tingyuan’s French still seemed to linger in his ears.

Back then, Bao Tingyuan was not yet the composed authority he wielded now, but breathtakingly handsome—so much so that Wen Cishu's heart raced.

By the bedside, Aunt Zhong called softly, "Second Master?"

"Hmm." Wen Cishu pushed himself up, and Aunt Zhong helped support him.

He took a sip of warm water, recalling the dream—only to realize it wasn’t a dream at all, but a forgotten memory from his wedding day.

Years ago, he and Bao Tingyuan were married in a lakeside castle in France.

In a hall decorated with red roses, Bao Tingyuan had spoken those very same vows from the dream.

A decade had passed, and Wen Cishu thought to himself that Bao Tingyuan had kept those promises even better than he had pledged.

Aunt Zhong pulled the blanket up and asked, "What’s on your mind?"

"Aunt Zhong, where is my wedding ring?"

Wen Cishu frowned. "The one I wore every day right after the wedding."

Aunt Zhong tried to remember.

It wasn’t surprising she couldn’t recall—after all, when the two young masters married, the ceremonies had been lavish, spanning from the engagement banquet to the wedding over a long period. The Bao family had sent heaps of jewelry to the Wen family, and naturally, there were several sets of engagement and wedding rings.

Then she remembered. "When Yi Ming was born, one morning you said the ring felt too tight and uncomfortable, so you took it off."

"Where did I put it?"

"Let me look for it," Aunt Zhong said, rising to search.

The jewelry Wen Cishu brought after marriage, along with the unique gifts Bao Tingyuan gave him, were stored in a dedicated room.

There was an exquisite Chinese-style jewelry cabinet in the room, custom-made by a master craftsman commissioned by the Bao family patriarch. The whole room gleamed with luxury from floor to ceiling.

Aunt Zhong looked through the ring compartment but found nothing. She opened several other cloisonné cabinets, yet there was no sign of it.

She returned empty-handed.

"I’ll ask Old Xu later. He should know."

Seeing Wen Cishu’s slight frown, she reassured him, "Don’t worry. Old Xu is observant and detail-oriented—if a needle fell in this house, he’d know where it landed. It definitely isn’t lost."

Wen Cishu rested his hand on the white jade bracelet at his wrist, rubbing it firmly.

The jade, warmed by his body heat, was smooth and comforting—as if silently reminding him of something.

Truthfully, Old Xu rarely entered this room. The ones who came and went most often were Aunt Zhong and Bao Tingyuan.

Wen Cishu had his suspicions.

His gaze slowly shifted toward the sliding silk-screen door between the two bedrooms.

Perhaps it was the rigid formality of the Chinese-style decor, or perhaps the dim lighting in the room at the moment.

This room gave Wen Cishu an inexplicable sense of authority, as if it were a chilly, off-limits zone.

Just like Bao Tingyuan himself stepping out from behind that door.

Wen Cishu schooled his expression and looked at the delicate bracelet. "Auntie Zhong, don’t ask now. Let me think about it first."

He stretched lazily. "Sleep made me hungry. Let’s go have dinner."

Auntie Zhong helped him get up and downstairs.

-

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, Wen Cishu saw the little monkey with still-damp hair.

"What have you been up to? Why didn’t you dry your hair?"

He took the towel from Uncle Xu and dried the child's hair.

Uncle Xu said with a smile as he told Wen Cishu what the young master had been doing earlier—playing tennis, feeding horses at the stable, swimming after coming home, and just finishing a shower.

The boy's endless energy left Wen Cishu amazed.

Wen Cishu finished drying his hair and mussed it up. "Then hurry up and eat dinner. Where’s your big dad?"

Uncle Xu: "The oldest young master went to the company."

Wen Cishu and Bao Yiming went to the dining room and sat down to eat.

Bao Yiming lit up when he saw the aromatic roast goose.

"Oh, by the way, little dad~" Uncle Xu said, "Grandpa Xu said big dad watched our live stream all night yesterday and didn’t sleep at all."

"Really?" Wen Cishu looked at Uncle Xu, surprised.

"Yes," Uncle Xu replied, serving two small bowls of rice. "The eldest young master was worried."

Wen Cishu thought, yet he hadn’t shown even a hint of fatigue that afternoon.

What kind of iron constitution was that?

He glanced at the energetic kid happily serving himself—how fortunate that he inherited Bao Tingyuan’s strong genes.

As Bao Yiming picked up a piece of roast goose, he suddenly felt his little dad’s gaze and thought he might want that piece too, so he quickly put it on his dad’s plate.

"Little dad, you have this piece."

"Good boy." Wen Cishu didn’t refuse, dipping it in the sauce before popping it into his mouth.

Chef Chen’s skills were top-notch—just this small piece of roast goose had crispy skin and tender meat. Dipped in plum sauce, the perfect burst of savory juices exploded on the tongue—not greasy at all but instead filling the mouth with fragrance.

However, for Wen Cishu, roast goose was something he could only eat one piece of at most.

Even if it was made by Chef Chen, two pieces were his max—any more would feel too oily.

Beside Bao Yiming’s hand was a small bag—a fist-sized round bundle.

Wen Cishu guessed its purpose. "Yi Ming, are you planning to carry your little potato around like this all the time?"

Bao Yiming swallowed a bite of the delicious roast goose.

"Little Dad, I don’t want my little potato to go bad. Do you have any good ideas?"

Wen Cishu took a sip of light broth and propped his chin on his hand, seriously thinking for his son.

"How about we pick a spot at home and plant it? That way, it won’t go bad. You can water it every day and watch it grow."

"Great!"

Bao Yiming picked up the little potato, imagining it taking root and sprouting in their home, eventually producing loads of potatoes like at the farm. He thought that sounded fun.

"Shall we plant it after dinner?"

"Hmm..."

Though Wen Cishu had suggested the idea, he actually didn’t know how. "Dad will look up how to plant it online."

Aunt Zhong topped off his soup and chided playfully, "I’m right here—why not ask me?"

Wen Cishu and Bao Yiming both laughed.

Bao Yiming cheered, "That’s perfect! Aunt Zhong, please teach Little Dad and me!"

-

After dinner.

Aunt Zhong grabbed a good container and explained to the father and son how to proceed.

Wen Cishu held a small knife, cutting the potato at the sprout points.

Bao Yiming wore disposable gloves, dropping each piece into the pot before covering them with a thin layer of soil and watering them.

Aunt Zhong said, "In a few days, see if they’ve sprouted. Once they sprout, you can plant them in the ground."

Bao Yiming happily asked Uncle Xu, "Grandpa Xu, can you help me find a good spot?"

Hearing this, Wen Cishu tried not to laugh.

Someone unfamiliar might think they were preparing a "grand burial" for the potato.

After planting the potatoes, the father and son went to wash their hands.

Bao Yiming stayed close to his little dad, watching warm water rinse away the soapy lather between his fingers before looking up at him.

Wen Cishu gave him a look. "What is it?"

Bao Yiming nuzzled against his little dad.

He absolutely loved having his little dad accompany him in doing these things.

Wen Cishu dried his hands and pulled him close to mess up his hair. If the kid grew any older, he wouldn’t cling like this anymore—he had to cherish these tender moments.

"Want Dad to help you with your homework?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the kid backed away step by step.

"I’m nine now! I can finish my homework on my own!"

As he spoke, Bao Yiming bolted off, his voice trailing off.

Wen Cishu: Tsk, look at me being all fatherly.

He ambled back to his bedroom on the second floor, picked up his phone from the nightstand, and finally saw the *Liberty Leading the People* meme in the WeChat group, which made him snort with laughter.

"@Teacher Zhou, I'm really sorry—I was asleep all afternoon and just woke up. I'll show it to them soon."

Zhou Xu: "All good."

Zhu Wei: "Yi Ming's dad, are you feeling unwell? You looked wiped out today."

Wen Cishu was touched: "Just not used to being out—it wore me out a bit. A good nap did the trick. Thanks for your concern, Wei-jie."

Chu Han: "Yi Ming's dad calls me 'Teacher Chu' but calls Teacher Zhu 'Sister Wei.'"

Wen Cishu leaned against the headboard, holding his phone with a light laugh: "No, no, Teacher Chu is Sister Han."

Chu Han sent a vintage meme of "You and I raise our glasses, toasting to prosperity."

Wen Cishu thought to himself—Teacher Chu was so calm and sweet during the show; he never expected her to have such a cute and humorous side in private.

Zhou Xu: "What about me?"

Wen Cishu: "Teacher Zhou, you seem younger than me—are you sure you want me to change how I address you?"

Zhou Xu: "Then just call me Teacher Zhou. I'll take that, haha."

"Let me show you what Xiao Qi had me and his mom make when he got home today."

A photo appeared in the chat of an adorable 3D cloud-shaped frame, with a picture of four little kids pulling up radishes placed right in the center.

Chu Han: "So cute!"

Zhu Wei: "Same here!"

She also shared a printed photo pinned to Rong Rong’s picture wall.

The photo was placed right in the center—clearly Rong Rong’s favorite.

Wen Cishu, caught up in the cuteness, couldn’t help but share the story of planting potatoes with Bao Yiming, getting a laugh from everyone.

Suddenly, Wen Cishu remembered someone. He tapped open their WeChat and typed:

"Xu-shu said you didn’t sleep at all last night. Don't push yourself too hard—head home early."

After a moment’s thought, it felt a bit awkward.

He recalled the message and rephrased it: "Finished work yet? Head home early."

No reply came after a few minutes.

Wen Cishu figured he must be swamped.

Then, there stood the person—none other than Bao Tingyuan, his expression indifferent. His green eyes lifted behind cold glasses, staring straight at him, with a chill in them.

Wen Cishu dropped his phone.

—Great, more wasted concern.

Bao Tingyuan noticed his color looked rosier than when he had left, and his phoenix eyes were bright with energy.

He shut the door behind him and stepped inside.

Wen Cishu had a keen nose—his senses caught a faint trace of alcohol as Bao Tingyuan approached, possibly something strong like whiskey.

Somewhat surprised, he asked, “Have you been drinking?”

Drinking after pulling an all-nighter can’t be healthy, right?

Although Bao Tingyuan showed no visible signs of tiredness, Wen Cishu still felt a quiet concern.

Even the strongest body couldn’t endure endless exhaustion, not to mention the undisclosed condition he carried.

Hearing this and seeing Wen’s slightly furrowed brow, Bao paused at the foot of the bed, halting his advance.

“I’ll go take a shower. Take a look at this first.”

He placed the file at the corner of the bed and turned toward the sliding screen door.

“Oh.”

Wen had been too focused on his face to notice what was in his hand—was that actually for him?

Curious, he scrambled over, letting out a cheerful sing-song murmur: “Let me see what it is~”

Bao, who had just opened the screen door, glanced back toward the bed.

Under the soft white light, Wen’s willowy figure was curled up in the plush bedding, long hair loosely tied into a messy updo with strands falling along his elegant neck.

The silk pajamas skimmed the gentle contours of his back, their golden-threaded hem heavier at the waist, slipping forward slightly to expose a glimpse of pale skin.

As his eyes briefly grazed the curve of Wen’s rear, Bao sharply averted his gaze, shoved the screen door open, and strode inside.