Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Zhou Xu suggested having dinner in the courtyard of the teahouse.

The adults moved tables while the children worked together to carry chairs and stools.

Beneath the hanging moon, the eight of them gathered around a square table like family, enjoying a warm and joyful dinner.

Amid lively conversation and laughter, the little one occasionally piped up with childlike comments, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

*"This feels even better than the farm~ It's so nice to bond like friends and family."*

*"Just got my takeout, eating alone while pretending to be there—mentally raiding Ming Zai’s bowl."*

In the evening, Wen Cishu finished washing up early and lay in bed, watching as the little monkey wriggled close to him.

*"What's up?"*

Bao Yiming rolled over on the bed, resting his head on his little dad’s lap. *"Little Dad, can I go play with Xingxing-di for a bit before coming back to sleep?"*

Wen Cishu stroked his smooth forehead and brushed his bangs aside, leaning down to gaze at his fine-boned face. *"Of course."*

*"Yes!"*

Bao Yiming wrapped his arms around his little dad’s waist, nuzzling into his embrace and inhaling deeply his dad's scent, then looked up with a bright smile. *"Little Dad, you smell so nice today."*

Wen Cishu gave him a light push—this grown boy had some heft to him.

*"I used too much shower gel earlier. Go on, Xingxing-di is waiting for you."*

Bao Yiming pulled the watch he’d taken off during his bath from his pocket and set it aside, winking at his little dad. *"Be right back~"*

Wen Cishu thought to himself—was this little monkey angling for him to call big dad?

-

At the residence of Chu Han and her son.

The moment the knock sounded, Xingxing, who had been rummaging through his suitcase, sprinted to answer it.

Bao Yiming jumped in as soon as it opened. *"Gege’s here!"*

Though not the expressive type, Xingxing still curved his eyes slightly and invited his brother in.

Chu Han, ever perceptive, said, *"Yi Ming, why don’t you and Xingxing-di nestle under the quilt and chat? I’ll just read my script."*

*"‘Kay!"* Bao Yiming didn’t hesitate but was a little curious about the *script*. Belly-down on the bed, he whispered to Xingxing, *"Do you often visit your mom’s shooting locations?"*

*"No, only a few times."* Xingxing rolled onto his side, resting his head on the pillow as he looked at Yi Ming.

Under the lamplight, Bao Yiming’s eye color looked slightly different from daytime, paired with his long, curled lashes—each flutter was spellbinding.

Propping his face in his hands, Bao Yiming asked, *"Then next time, you come with me to your mom’s set, and I’ll get you on skis—my big dad can teach you! He’s amazing at skiing."*

Xingxing was always curious about the *"big dad"* his brother mentioned. Tapping toward his brother’s eyes, he asked, *"Does your big dad have eyes like yours?"*

*"Nope, my big dad’s eyes are green—well, think... hunter green?"*

Bao Yiming turned to lie down as well, tugging the quilt over and snuggling up to Xingxing. *"What about Xingxing's dad?"*

*"Wait... green? Like actually green?"*

"Is 'Momo-kun' really the one who posted about that big shot from the Bao family?"

"I wish I could run to Ming Zai with a picture of that handsome guy wearing a mouthguard and see his reaction!"

On the bed, Xingxing simply rolled over, half-burying his face in the blanket, mumbling something about how his dad was always busy and didn't have much time to spend with him.

"My dad is a doctor."

"Wow, isn't that awesome?" Bao Yiming immediately thought of the two doctor friends who often visited their house.

The TCM uncle who checked pulses seemed like a kung fu master in his eyes.

"Yeah," Xingxing clearly felt proud of his dad.

Bao Yiming recalled how those doctors at home were always available whenever needed.

"So does Xingxing's dad also have to stay at the hospital every day?"

Xingxing nodded but still defended his dad: "But... before coming home, Dad always asks Mom whether I'm asleep yet. If not, he brings food back for us to eat together."

"Wow, then your dad is pretty great, huh?"

When it came to food, Bao Yiming got excited. "My big dad even steals food from me."

Suddenly thinking of his little dad, he continued, "Before, my little dad had to stay in bed, and my big dad was afraid I'd disturb him, so he wouldn’t let me go into the room to see little dad. So I had to entertain myself."

He happily flipped over. "But recently my little dad has been getting better. Get this—after we went home from the last episode, I even slept with my little dad and told him fairy tales."

In his mind, he pictured himself like a little duckling, following his little dad into the bathroom.

While his little dad brushed his teeth and washed his face, he kept complaining about his big dad, and his little dad humored him, even asking for details.

Just thinking about it made Bao Yiming feel warm and happy.

"Really?"

Quietly, Xingxing looked at his brother with wide eyes, as if imagining what "having to entertain myself" might look like from those words.

Resting his chin on his arm, he mumbled into his sleeve, "Why do adults always have their ups and downs? Can't they just stay consistent?"

"That's just how things are. Sometimes good, sometimes not."

Bao Yiming reached out and pinched his brother's cheeks, stretching them sideways, then suddenly cheerfully said, "But it's okay because I’m sometimes good and sometimes not too. Hehe!"

Xingxing didn't pull away from the cheek pinch. Instead, he gazed thoughtfully at his brother.

He had never distinguished his parents this way before, nor had he ever turned his observational lens inward, so it took him a moment to process.

"No way, Xingxing actually believed it? Seriously, the nine-year-old dares to say it, and the seven-year-old dares to believe it."

"But what Ming Zai said makes sense, right? There’s no such thing as perfect parents or perfect kids. Everyone has good days and bad days. Unless it's something serious like domestic violence or cheating, you just learn to live with each other."

"I think Ming Zai is amazing—the kind of kid who knows how to keep himself occupied and never feels lonely."

"But he must have felt lonely sometimes too when he was young. Hug for the adorable little Ming Zai back then."

"No wonder in the second episode Ming Zai stuck to his little dad even more than in the first, even calling him 'mommy.' Turns out, they slept together after going home."

"So where does the big dad sleep? [peeking emoji]"

"Ming Zai: Under the bed [filial piety meme.jpg]"

Bao Yiming grinned and ruffled his little brother's hair. "Little Star, let me tell you a story. But it's in French... Hmm, let me figure out how to say it in Chinese."

He wrapped an arm around Little Star. "It's a fun story about a unicorn exploring the forest."

Little Star nodded. "Brother, I want to hear it in French."

"Great!" Bao Yiming was thrilled to speak French, so he didn't have to translate in his head first. He launched into the story eagerly.

Listening to his first French fairy tale, Little Star looked utterly awestruck.

"French majors are getting owned by this pronunciation."

"Ming Zai, you're still babysitting your little bro? Your base is getting stolen!"

Wen Cishu's room.

Not long after Bao Yiming left, a tiny figure knocked on the door.

Xiao Qi, wearing penguin pajamas, held out his little arms as soon as Wen Cishu opened the door.

"Uncle~ Hug~"

Wen Cishu bent down and scooped up the soft, sweet-smelling toddler, then peeked outside.

Zhou Xu from across the hallway waved. "Sorry to bother you, Yi Ming’s dad!"

He gave an exaggerated bow and slipped back into his room.

Wen Cishu smiled and looked down at the adorable little penguin.

Xiao Qi blinked his big eyes and puffing out one chubby cheek, leaning his head toward his uncle.

Wen Cishu quickly leaned down to give it a gentle rub, murmuring, "Xiao Qi’s cheeks are so soft. Let Uncle smooch it again~"

Xiao Qi giggled, burying himself deeper into his uncle’s arms, trying his best to be a snuggly little ball.

"Aww~ Xiao Qi is so squishy~ I wanna kiss!"

"Ming Zai!!! Xiao Qi stole your mommy!"

Wen Cishu placed Xiao Qi on the bed and slid the watch he had just picked up back under the pillow on the other side.

He naturally wrapped his arms around the adorable little munchkin but suddenly zoned out.

Years ago, he had held a two- or three-year-old monkey like this.

But later, as his health declined, he stopped being close to the child, lost in illness and unable to snap out of it.

Holding this little cutie now, he could imagine that if he hadn’t awakened somehow, he would have kept suffering until his heart failed.

Xiao Qi nestled in his uncle’s arms, whispering in a tiny voice and saying he wanted to invite his uncle to play at his house.

Wen Cishu gently kneaded Xiao Qi’s soft little hand in his palm—the tiny fingers curled up like little cat paws.

Just as they were talking, the door burst open.

Bao Yiming charged in. "Xiao Qi!!!!!"

"Whee~ yay~" Xiao Qi squealed with excitement, burrowing into his little uncle's blanket and forming a cute little bulge.

Wen Cishu wrapped his arms around Xiao Qi: "Yi Ming, don't scare your little brother."

A tiny, muffled voice came from under the blanket: "Xiao Qi isn't scared~"

Bao Yi Ming leaped onto the bed and hugged the little bundle: "Papa, Xiao Qi is so brave!"

Wen Cishu said, "Xiao Qi was just talking about how you caught ducks with Uncle Zhou at the farm last time."

Snuggled in his brother's arms, Xiao Qi blinked with eyes sparkling: "Xiao Qi likes the farm, does Brother like it too?"

"Brother likes it too." Bao Yi Ming lifted the little one high, then suddenly had an idea. "What if we bought the farm? Then we could always go play there."

"Yes! Yes~"

Xiao Qi clapped his little hands. "But how do we make it ours?"

Bao Yi Ming turned to look at his Papa: "Little Daddy, how much does a farm cost?"

"This..." Wen Cishu hesitated.

He genuinely had no clue. "After we're done tomorrow, Daddy will ask the production crew about it."

"Okay!"

"Huh? You're seriously talking about buying a farm?"

"This morning, Ming Zai's Papa didn’t even object when a cup of tea cost 150. Good thing Zhu Wei was there, right?"

"No way Ming Zai is actually from that Bao family everyone's talking about online? Need an older sister, Ming Zai? (I speak French)~"

-

In the hotel suite, Aunt Zhong knocked and entered.

A tall figure was pacing back and forth.

Not far from him stood a glass window with curtains still open.

The dark window panes resembled cages, trapping the pacing figure within.

Even his ever-present black shirt seemed almost an extension of the night outside, tightly binding his body and soul.

As soon as Aunt Zhong stepped in, she sensed a strange restlessness in the air.

Thinking something urgent had happened, she couldn’t help but ask, "Young Master?"

Bao Tingyuan stopped pacing when she entered and cast a quick glance at the box in her hands: "Aunt Zhong, what is it?"

Hearing his tone was normal, she approached and placed the small box on the coffee table.

"Second Master asked me to deliver this tonight. He said you should rest early and not stay up late."

Bao Tingyuan looked at the person streaming live and nodded: "Mm, thank you."

Aunt Zhong said nothing more and left.

Bao Tingyuan sat down and carefully opened the box.

Two petite Madeleines nestled together adorably, emitting a faint lemony fragrance.

Inside the box was a folded card with a few handwritten words from Wen Cishu.

"I baked four Madeleines. I already ate two. These two are for you as a late-night dessert. Get some rest after eating. (Cishu)"

The handwriting was bold, with elegant flourishes—graceful yet strong.

Bao Tingyuan reread the words before taking a small piece from the box. Biting into it, he tasted the lemon cream filling.

The sweet-tart fruitiness cut through the richness of the Madeleine, as if the dessert had effortlessly eased Bao Tingyuan's nighttime restlessness.

Before Aunt Zhong entered, he had been pacing back and forth for half an hour.

Bao Tingyuan really should rest early—it was his promise to him.

But his will couldn’t fully command his body.

So, as night fell, he became like a resilient rubber band, stretched tighter with every passing second, until it felt ready to snap.

The lemon Madeleine and the card were like a timely, gentle embrace from Wen Cishu.

But it wasn’t enough.

Bao Tingyuan lowered his eyelids, his thick lashes shadowing his green eyes.

With near-reverent caution, he gazed at the soft Madeleine.

Perhaps he should save this one.

For a special moment—like medicine—to briefly soothe the dual torment of his body and mind.

At that moment, the phone on the René Char poetry book lit up.

As Bao Tingyuan picked it up, he instinctively lifted his gaze, his sharp green eyes snapping toward the live broadcast screen.

Bao Yiming had just put the little one to bed, while Wen Cishu was burrowed under the covers, pretending to sleep.

It was a message from his son’s watch.

"Are you asleep? (Cishu)"

Bao Tingyuan exhaled a long, slow breath, his agitation soothed as if by an unseen hand.

"Awake."

"Not in bed yet? Then hurry. I’ll count to three. (Cishu)"

Wen Cishu’s voice floated from the screen. "One, two, three..."

Bao Yiming asked in confusion, "Dad, are you talking in your sleep?"

He peeked over his dad’s shoulder, carefully checking under the covers.

Wen Cishu tucked the watch away, smiling as he pinched his cheek. "No, Dad was just thinking about something."

Sitting alone on the sofa, Bao Tingyuan watched the affectionate father and son, his frayed nerves easing slightly.

The moment Wen Cishu spoke, it felt as if he had pulled him into the room with them, his voice soft in his ear—warm and intimate.

Bao Tingyuan quickly retrieved the medicine bottle, took a pill with water, then headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up.

As he walked toward the bed, he bent down and casually picked up the poetry collection from the coffee table.

-

During the program,

Wen Cishu received a reply.

"You evil dragon knight who stole little Madeleine’s cake (angry-cute emoticon)": "Already in bed."

Just looking at this long nickname and the angry-cute emoticon, combined with the image of Bo Tingyuan’s extremely stern and cold face, Wen Cishu couldn’t help but laugh.

"Can you send a photo? Let me check. (Cishu)"

He wasn’t entirely sure whether Bo Tingyuan would be willing to send him a photo.

The idea of selfies or casual snapshots of daily life seemed difficult to associate with the rigid and serious Bo Tingyuan.

Half a minute later,

a photo appeared on the small watch screen.

The camera focused on a book, with Bo Tingyuan’s fingers visible below, and a soft blanket behind the book.

Wen Cishu zoomed in on the details of the photo, clearly making out the French poetry lines on the page, and froze momentarily.

It was like his first taste of the lemon cream filling inside a Madeleine—the luscious sweet-tart flavor spreading across his lips and tongue, layer upon layer of captivating pleasure.

After ending the conversation, Wen Cishu poked his head out and leaned against the pillow.

In this unfamiliar room, he closed his eyes, smiling slightly as he murmured to himself:

You evil dragon knight who stole little Madeleine’s cake, see you tomorrow~