Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The living room on the first floor of the mansion.

Bao Yiming was helping Aunt Zhong organize the suitcase filled with gifts.

Wen Cishu lounged on the sofa, hugging a pillow.

He had been practicing tai chi too diligently these past few days, and with more physical activity than usual, his waist started to ache slightly by the afternoon. He idly rubbed it.

"Yi Ming, did we miss any gifts for the kids?"

It would be super awkward if they discovered a missing gift when unpacking tomorrow.

"Nah!"

Bao Yiming counted them one by one. "Aunt Zhong, I can handle this—I’m strong!"

He zipped it up himself and set the suitcase aside.

Originally, Uncle Xu had offered to help, but Wen Cishu declined.

The kid had way too much energy, so it was good for him to burn some off. Otherwise, he’d be too excited about the show to sleep at night.

Bao Yiming wheeled the suitcase away, ready to just grab it on the way out tomorrow.

Aunt Zhong walked over to Wen Cishu and asked softly, "Feeling better?"

"Mm."

Wen Cishu lazily yawned and glanced toward the outside of the living room.

Aunt Zhong teased, "Did the young master get lost? Is that why you’re waiting here?"

Wen Cishu chuckled, firmly denying it. "Not at all. I’m not waiting for him."

Aunt Zhong snorted, clearly not buying it.

"Little Dad, I want to check on the baby potatoes. Are you coming?"

Bao Yiming bounded over, batting his eyelashes and giving not-so-subtle hints.

"Sure." Wen Cishu set the pillow aside and stood up.

Aunt Zhong threw a light blanket over his shoulders.

The long fringe swished together with his black hair as Wen Cishu moved.

In the garden.

Bao Yiming crouched down to inspect the potatoes in the pot. Glancing back to make sure Aunt Zhong hadn’t followed, he sneakily brushed aside the covering soil.

"Little Dad, look! This one has a clear little sprout!"

The potato they brought back from the show had been cut into four pieces. After five days, one had grown a noticeable tender shoot.

Seeing his sneaky move, Wen Cishu laughed and told him to cover it back. "Don’t let the baby potatoes get cold. The rest should sprout in a few more days," he added.

When they planted them, Aunt Zhong had mentioned that with this weather, it would likely take seven days for all of them to push through the soil.

"Mhm!" Bo Yi Ming patted the soil back into place and clapped his hands. "Papa, did you know? Xingxing's potato sprouted faster than ours because he put it in water when he got home."

"Oh?" Wen Ci Shu opened the blanket and drew him into a hug, asking warmly, "How come you and Xingxing have so much to talk about?"

Bo Yi Ming snuggled under the blanket, leaning against Papa—it felt so warm and snug~

"I just talked to him, and I asked if we should end the call. He said let's chat a bit more, and we just kept talking and lost track of time."

"Is that so?" Wen Ci Shu mused. So it was a little two-way friendship. He ruffled his son's hair, happy for him.

Living Room.

Not long after father and son had left, Auntie Zhong was still tidying the throw pillows on the sofa when Bo Ting Yuan came home.

Mr. Xu also happened to be coming out of the kitchen and walked over to take the eldest master's coat.

"The master and young master went to the garden."

Bo Ting Yuan nodded.

Auntie Zhong added at the right moment, "The Second Master waited here just for you. He’s been waiting since dinner."

Bo Ting Yuan turned to look at her and nodded again, indicating he had heard.

Auntie Zhong continued, "The Second Master’s back seems to be bothering him a bit, but it's not serious."

"Got it." Bo Ting Yuan made his way to the garden.

Once the eldest master was out of earshot, Mr. Xu turned to glance at Auntie Zhong, who was still tidying the sofa.

For the first time in his career as a high-class butler, he felt such a strong sense of crisis.

-

Garden.

Wen Ci Shu walked back, sharing a blanket with his son, laughing warmly, when he finally saw the latecomer.

"Daddy!"

Bo Yi Ming peeked out from Papa's arms with a bright smile.

"Papa was waiting for you to get home, but you didn’t come back, so I took him to check on the potatoes!"

"Mhm."

Bo Ting Yuan stepped forward, ruffling his son's hair, then pulled the blanket draped over his shoulders back to wrap around Wen Ci Shu.

Bo Yi Ming, now feeling the chill: ???

Just as Wen Ci Shu was about to speak, he saw him naturally bend down and lift-hug him—face-to-face, just like yesterday in the kitchen. It made Wen Ci Shu’s ears turn red, but he couldn’t push him away. Instead, he tugged the blanket to cover Bo Ting Yuan’s broad shoulders too and asked softly, "Have you eaten dinner?"

"Mhm."

Enveloped in warmth, Bo Ting Yuan held him tight.

Then he turned toward the house, telling his son, "Yi Ming, come inside."

Bo Yi Ming had thought Daddy was stealing his blanket—but he just wanted to hug Papa.

He scampered after them.

The three stepped into the brighter light indoors together.

Wen Cishu nestled in Bo Tingyuan's embrace, the blanket trapping warmth and creating a snug little world just for the two of them.

His face rested against Bo Tingyuan's shoulder, listening to the little one babbling to his "Daddy." His eyes curved unconsciously—*if only it could always be this peaceful and happy.*

Then, Wen Cishu noticed Xu Shu and Auntie Zhong still in the living room. He quickly turned his face, burying it against Bo Tingyuan's neck, muttering just loud enough for him to hear: "Say I'm asleep."

Xu Shu and Auntie Zhong, hearing footsteps, turned their heads almost simultaneously to see the older boy carrying his husband inside.

The two older adults—one looked down, the other shifting her gaze to the bouncy little boy.

Auntie Zhong asked, "Yiming, were you messing with Potato again?"

Bo Yiming stuck out his tongue: "Auntie Zhong~ I only took one! I didn’t touch any others!"

Auntie Zhong ushered him off to wash up.

Wen Cishu exhaled in relief—thankfully, she hadn’t asked anything else.

And what was Bo Tingyuan’s problem? Wasn’t the usual way fine? Why change things up now?

Inside the elevator, Wen Cishu finally lifted his face and leaned back slightly. "Let me down—I can walk."

Inside this old-fashioned elevator hung a modern crystal lamp.

The intricate carvings on the shade cast delicate shadows that now dappled Wen Cishu’s thick black hair.

Bo Tingyuan had never noticed it before.

Now, he stepped back.

The floral shadows from the crystal lamp fell perfectly across Wen Cishu’s porcelain-delicate face, framing his beautiful brows and eyes like an exquisite painting.

Wen Cishu, held under the gaze of Bo Tingyuan’s jade-green eyes, felt baffled and gave him a light push. "Did you hear me?"

The second he spoke, an arm locked around his waist, pulling him flush against Bo Tingyuan’s chest.

As the elevator stopped, Wen Cishu collided against him, cheek brushing his temple.

His palm gently kneaded Wen Cishu’s lower back. "Auntie Zhong said your back was bothering you."

Wen Cishu thought: *That came out of nowhere.*

But his hand was warm, the warmth bleeding through his clothes and soothing his skin, so he didn’t resist.

Entering the bedroom, Bo Tingyuan sat on the sofa, still not letting go.

Wen Cishu found himself kneeling on his lap. He had meant to pull away, but any shift made the grip on his waist tighten.

"What’s suddenly hurting you?"

Bo Tingyuan brushed his long hair behind his ear while his other hand probed his waist. "Here?" His fingers moved. "Here?"

"Ah—"

Wen Cishu was pressed until he felt a dull ache, slightly tilting his chin up as his neck arched into a sensual curve. His black hair swayed slightly as it cascaded down his back.

Bao Tingyuan lowered his gaze, gazing at the tiny mole on Wen Cishu’s snow-white neck. It was usually well-hidden, peeking faintly through his hair.

Wen Cishu focused entirely on Bao Tingyuan’s palm, feeling the pressure of his fingertips as they kneaded, guiding him: "Left a little—ah—"

He suddenly realized how tightly they were pressed together, their breaths mingling, their lips barely inches apart. His body tensed, and he lowered his head to brace against the armrest of the sofa.

"It's fine, really not that bad."

Bao Tingyuan still didn’t let him go, silently continuing to massage his narrow waist, barely wider than Bao Tingyuan’s palm.

The dull ache in his waist made Wen Cishu lightly catch his lower lip between his teeth.

He didn't dare meet those dark green eyes, keeping his gaze downcast. When the hand on his lower back pressed slightly harder, his hand instinctively pressed against Bao Tingyuan’s firm, powerful arm.

After Wen Cishu held back a soft gasp, the room grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Only Bao Tingyuan’s slightly heavy breathing remained, along with the faint rustle of fabric under his palm.

These sounds, though extremely subtle, felt like ants skittering in Wen Cishu’s ears, sending a shiver through him.

Bao Tingyuan looked down at him. "Does this hurt?"

"No…" Wen Cishu murmured, avoiding the question. "I need to shower and get some rest. I have to wake up early tomorrow."

Bao Tingyuan: "Mm."

Yet his hand kept moving, still kneading back and forth.

Wen Cishu didn’t remind or insist either, leaning against his arm, just letting his head drop, temple resting against Bao Tingyuan’s shoulder, allowing him to continue.

Only, the sensation on his lower back grew more pronounced, as if that hand might slide under his clothes and touch his bare skin at any moment, making him arch his back instinctively, then force himself to relax.

Just then, the familiar pitter-patter of their lively child came from outside the door.

Wen Cishu was about to speak when he was suddenly lifted up.

As his son entered, Bao Tingyuan stood and said, "Yi Ming, I’m taking your little dad to shower. Wait here—I have something to talk to you about."

"Okay~" Bao Yiming, oblivious to anything unusual, hopped onto another couch, hugging a soft pillow and rolling over.

Wen Cishu was carried into the bathroom, only regaining his bearings when his feet hit the floor.

Bao Tingyuan gently removed the blanket from his shoulders, sweeping his long black hair aside.

Before Wen Cishu could process the cool air on his skin, he unexpectedly caught Bao Tingyuan’s expression in the mirror—as if he were stripping bare under that gaze.

When Bao Tingyuan looked at him, Wen Cishu hastily averted his gaze, fingers tightening on the edge of the sink as he reached for his toiletries. "You can go. I’ll brush my teeth."

"Don’t take too long."

Bao Tingyuan warned before walking out.

Wen Cishu leaned against the sink, watching as Bao Tingyuan walked away, the thin blanket draped over his arm, his retreating figure the picture of refined elegance.

He came to, gazing at his reflection in the mirror as his hand absentmindedly brushed the small of his back before quickly pulling away.

After Wen Cishu finished washing up and changed into his pajamas, he emerged from the bathroom.

The bedroom was unusually quiet—there was no sign of the little monkey’s usual antics.

Bo Tingyuan sat on the sofa beside the bed, paging through a book.

“Where’s Yi Ming?” Wen Cishu asked with a yawn, lazily covering his mouth.

As he approached, he noticed that Bo Tingyuan was holding a French fairy tale book.

Bo Tingyuan closed the book and looked up.

Fresh from the shower, Wen Cishu looked soft and luminous like jade, exuding a lazy charm.

Bo Tingyuan set the book aside, stood, and drew back the covers for him, gently helping him lie down.

“I had him sleep in his own room tonight.”

Lying against the soft pillow, Wen Cishu blinked and teased playfully, “Then who’s going to tuck me in with a story tonight?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he worried Bo Tingyuan might misunderstand. Under that intense gaze, he instinctively pressed his lips together, tugged at the blanket, and mumbled, “I can fall asleep on my own.”

Bo Tingyuan reached out and traced the curve of his ear, his voice low. “I’ll be back after my shower,”

His tone paused briefly before adding, “to tell you a story.”

“Oh.” Wen Cishu fidgeted with his toes under the covers, watching him leave.

*Was he really going to tell him a bedtime story?*

Wen Cishu couldn’t help but lower his head, the corners of his lips curling slightly.

Not that he was particularly looking forward to it or anything~

Still, it would surely be much smoother than the little monkey’s French~

He buried himself happily deeper into the blankets, trying hard to fight back his grin, only to snap his eyes open the instant they closed.

*He couldn’t fall asleep first.*