Chapter 32

Chapter 32

With the joint efforts of the adults and the kids, everyone got to eat a warm meal right on time.

Zhou Xu, while keeping an eye on Xiao Qi’s eating, joked, “I feel like we came here just to work.”

Wen Cishu nodded slightly, clearly sharing the sentiment.

Chu Han chimed in, “Teacher Zhou, did you miss cooking? You’re itching to cook again?”

“Exactly~” Zhou Xu teased. “I even whipped up a new dish at home to surprise you all, but with such limited ingredients yesterday, I couldn’t really go all out.”

Bao Yiming looked up. “Mr. Zhou, you’re amazing—practicing songs *and* preparing new dishes!”

“Hey now!” Zhou Xu coughed loudly. “Just focus on eating.”

“Ming Zai: Did you forget you’re an idol? Don’t worry, I’ll remember for you!”

“Zhou Xu would wake up in the middle of the night just to grumble: Seriously, that punk Ming Zai!”

Wen Cishu felt a slight coolness on the back of his neck.

The cream he had applied earlier seemed to be slowly soaking into his skin, helping relieve the itchiness a bit.

His mind wandered off for a moment—

He wondered if Bao Tingyuan had managed to sleep through the night last night.

“Papa?”

Bao Yiming asked with concern, “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Huh?” Wen Cishu snapped back to reality. “No, I’m fine.”

Only then did he notice everyone was watching him. He gave a sheepish smile and fidgeted with his chopsticks.

“Sorry, I zoned out for a second. What were you saying?”

Chu Han nudged over a glass of warm water. “We were talking about hot pot. Yi Ming said he’s never had it at home.”

Wen Cishu took a sip and glanced at his son. “Yeah, we rarely do.”

Bao Yiming eagerly asked, “Papa, can we have hot pot at home?”

Wen Cishu naturally didn’t object and nodded in agreement.

Rong Rong rested her chin on her hands, speaking in her tiny voice: “Brother Yi Ming~ We should go to a restaurant for hot pot. It’s super fun!”

“Really?” Bao Yiming’s eyes lit up as he looked at the adorable little girl who had spoken up, already full of excitement.

Zhu Wei chuckled. “How about we all meet up after filming ends and have a big, fun hot pot dinner together? Yi Ming, have you ever seen a dual-flavor hot pot before?”

“What kind of pot?”

Bao Yiming’s amber eyes sparkled with curiosity as he turned to her. “Is it delicious?”

Xing Xing gasped in surprise and quickly explained what a dual-flavor hot pot was.

Bao Yiming gushed, “Xing Xing, you even know about this? You’re so cool! And Rong Rong too—you’ve had hot pot even at your age!”

His tone was so serious that Star and Rongrong exchanged a puzzled glance.

Four eyes, four giant question marks.

The adults all chuckled.

Wen Cishu also held his warm water cup, barely suppressing a smile.

"Haha, is eating hot pot really that impressive?! Then us folks from Sichuan and Chongqing must be incredibly amazing!"

"How come this kid hasn’t had hot pot? Isn’t he a mixed-race kid who grew up in China? That’s odd."

"Different eating habits, I guess. Judging by Ming Zai and his dad’s situation, their home meals must be very refined and particular."

"Poor Baby Mingming, come to your sister’s house—we have a dual-flavor hot pot! (But don’t forget to bring a gift!)"

"Ming Zai, the little dad’s sole fan: Nice try—I see your game!"

After the meal, just like in the previous episode, everyone wrapped up the teahouse segment.

Before officially ending, Wen Cishu wanted to leave more memories for the kids and took the initiative to ask Rongrong, "Rongrong, does your little camera still have film? Uncle wants to take a few more pictures of you all."

Whenever Uncle got close, Rongrong always wanted to touch his smooth, thick long hair. Her little hands shoved into her pockets, she nodded eagerly after hearing his words, "Yes~ I’ll go get it~"

For the first time, she ran off in a flash, returning with the camera and an entire box of film.

She had spent the previous night gushing over the photos Uncle took of her before bed.

Xiaoqi ran over, hugging his little uncle’s long leg, hopping excitedly, "Xiaoqi wants to be in the photo too~"

Wen Cishu remembered yesterday’s little penguin Xiaoqi and ruffled his hair, "Alright, Uncle will figure out the best angle."

Xiaoqi imitated Rongrong, grabbing onto his little uncle’s clothes and following along.

Wen Cishu suddenly had two adorable little tails.

"Let’s do it on the stairs."

He carried Xiaoqi and Rongrong up the steps and waved for the other two kids to join.

The four children sat on different steps, perfectly lined up for the photo.

After Wen Cishu took one photo, the four kids crowded around to check it out.

"We should take one today too," Chuhan said, pulling Zhuwei along. "Teacher Zhou, come quick!"

Zhuwei then asked the show’s producer to help take a group photo.

A staff member in a baseball cap appeared, waiting for everyone to settle on the wooden steps before snapping the shot, freezing their happy grins forever.

"I love photos of the little ones together—so heartwarming. Mommy *loves* kids~"

"Want to see the photos Mommy took~ The show’s socials better post these!"

"Is it ending already? So fast! I haven’t had enough of Mommy yet~"

Before the staff member slipped away, they softly reminded, "Teachers, don’t forget to hint at the next episode."

Zhuwei steered Baoyiming by the shoulders and nudged him toward the camera, "Yiming, announce what we’re filming in Season 3."

Bao Yiming stepped closer to the camera, standing straight as if stepping onto a stage, and announced in a very formal tone, “Next episode, we’ll be filming separately—in our own homes~ You all have to come watch us, okay?”

After saying this, he repeated it once in English and then in French, ending with a solemn bow.

The adults were tickled by the older kid’s endlessly quirky way of thinking.

But the three little ones were practically starstruck.

“Ming Zai was born to host on an international stage—he’s got that professional vibe!”

“Wait, seriously?? They’re going to the guests’ houses? Ming Zai’s place?!”

“Are we actually gonna see mommy’s living space up close? OMG I’m freaking out!”

“I bet the guests will just rent fake places last-minute. Other shows never show the real deal.”

“Whatever! But why next episode?? Making us wait a whole week? I swear I’ll riot if this crappy production team doesn’t hurry up!”

Amid the audience’s shock and anticipation, the second episode officially came to an end.

As Wen Cishu wheeled his suitcase off, he couldn’t help but lift a hand to rub the back of his neck through his clothes—the ointment didn’t seem to be working as well anymore.

Bao Yiming was busy hugging his younger siblings goodbye and didn’t notice this.

-

A black SUV pulled up, and Albert stepped out after opening the door, helping load the bags with Uncle Xu and the bodyguards.

Wen Cishu and Bao Yiming got into the car.

Besides the crew, a bunch of onlookers had gathered around.

After the car drove off, people started murmuring.

“Is that Ming Zai’s big dad? Not the hot guy in the mask? Netizens got it wrong.”

A staff member overheard and whispered, “Nah, that’s just Ming Zai’s dad’s assistant—don’t get it twisted.”

“Huh? Have you seen Ming Zai’s dad? What does he look like? Is it the one circulating online? Is Ming Zai’s surname Bao?”

The staffer clammed up and backed off.

“Hey! Where you going?!”

-

Inside the SUV,

The second Wen Cishu stepped inside, his eyes locked onto the man sitting perfectly still in the back, face unreadable.

The instant their eyes met, the noise outside the car and the kids’ chatter just… vanished.

Through his glasses, Bao Tingyuan’s deep green eyes carved out a weirdly intimate little world just for Wen Cishu.

Even with just a few steps between them, under Bao Tingyuan’s focused gaze, Wen Cishu could literally feel his heart skip a beat.

He froze, white-knuckling the seat. Behind him, Bao Yiming went, “Huh??”

Bao Tingyuan didn’t hesitate—he yanked Wen Cishu right against him.

The sensation of his hand being enveloped—more vivid than any time before—snapped Wen Cishu back to reality.

Like before, his hand ended up draped over Bao Tingyuan’s thigh.

Wen Cishu saw two rings almost touching, just a hair's breadth apart.

Once everyone was seated, Bao Tingyuan said to his son, "Yi Ming, your Papa and I have something to discuss. We'll be switching cars up ahead."

"What?" Bao Yi Ming turned his head in surprise.

Though his Daddy had already given a reason, he still asked cluelessly, "Why?"

Bao Tingyuan handed over a contract that had been placed on the other seat. "This is the farm deed transfer."

"Farm?"

Bao Yi Ming nearly jumped up, quickly taking it and reading the words on the first page.

"It's actually a farm!"

Old Xu couldn't help but smile affectionately at the young master’s adorable reaction.

While Bao Tingyuan was speaking to his son, Wen Cishu surreptitiously inched his fingers, feigning accidental contact with the other wedding ring.

However, Bao Tingyuan captured his left hand and used his other hand to rotate the ring on Wen Cishu’s finger.

The motion was incredibly smooth and natural, as if he were adjusting his own ring.

Wen Cishu quietly studied his profile.

As Bao Tingyuan rotated the ring, he instructed Albert to explain the fine print of the contract to Bao Yi Ming.

Bao Yi Ming finally understood and clarified, "Daddy, you mean I get to decide whether to invest? And if the farm operates at a loss in the future, that's my responsibility? The farm is mine alone?"

His voice rose with excitement, his heart racing with joy.

Bao Tingyuan looked at his clever and handsome son, adding sternly, "If you think you’re not capable of handling it yourself at the moment, then—"

Before he could finish, Bao Yi Ming blurted out defensively, "Of course I can! I'm already nine years old."

Albert sighed regretfully, glancing out the window.

It wasn’t the young master’s fault—after all, he was only nine. How could he recognize Mr. Bao’s reverse psychology?

At that moment, the car stopped in the quiet underground parking area of the hotel.

Bao Tingyuan said curtly, "Good. Your Papa and I will switch cars. You stay and have a proper talk with Uncle Albert."

He stood up, swept Wen Cishu into his arms, and quickly stepped out of the company van, entering the matte silver-gray Rolls-Royce that had been idling there.

Bao Yi Ming, too absorbed in examining the agreement, naturally had no objections.

Besides, it made sense for his two dads to switch cars if they had grown-up business to attend to.

By any measure, Bao Yi Ming quickly accepted the situation.

He turned to Albert and said, "Uncle, let's get started—I'll need your help with everything."

The two sat together.

Albert helped fasten his seatbelt and began briefly explaining the farm’s details.

Their car pulled away first.

Then, the silver-gray Rolls-Royce slowly caught up.

In the backseat.

Wen Cishu, hearing what he had said to their son, figured there was something important to discuss.

“These past two days while we were away, did something urgent happen?” And it couldn’t be shared with our son?

Bao Tingyuan looked at him, his brow twitching slightly.

Earlier, after being carried into the car, he had let go too quickly.

He raised his hand to brush aside Wen Cishu’s flowing black hair that fell over the back of his neck. “Where’s the allergy? Did the ointment work?”

“Oh.” Wen Cishu turned toward him at the touch of his fingertips. “Just here, on the back of my neck.”

His porcelain-white skin was slightly flushed.

As he moved, his slender back stretched slightly, his spine faintly visible beneath the collar of his shirt.

Wen Cishu was about to explain how the ointment worked when he heard Bao Tingyuan speak to the driver.

“Driver Liu, slow down a bit.”

Driver Liu answered without looking back. “Got it.”

Then, the partition between the front and back seats slowly rose until it was fully closed.

Wen Cishu was wondering why when arms wrapped tightly around his waist, lifting him onto Bao Tingyuan’s lap so he was sitting sideways. He immediately felt the warmth of his chest.

The faint sandalwood scent lingered subtly, and Wen Cishu automatically breathed in deeply.

Up close, his phoenix eyes met Bao Tingyuan’s green gaze, blinking slightly. “Hmm?”

Bao Tingyuan got the ointment. “Dr. Lin said it needs to be reapplied every two hours.”

“No wonder it’s starting to itch again.”

Wen Cishu went to take it.

“Let me.” Bao Tingyuan held the ointment out to him, voice calm. “Open it.”

They were so close that the words nearly whispered into Wen Cishu’s ear.

The deep, mesmerizing tone made Wen Cishu instinctively reach up to unscrew the cap.

Bao Tingyuan held the ointment, guiding it around Wen Cishu’s slender neck, gently pressing the rollerball against his sensitive, reddened skin.

In an instant, he felt the person in his arms shiver.

He pulled the ointment away, murmuring, “Does that hurt?”

Wen Cishu, nestled against his chest, his gaze fell to the upper edge of his black shirt—where his noticeable Adam’s apple moved with each word.

He shook his head slightly and whispered, “Maybe the rollerball is too cold.”

Earlier, he hadn’t used the rollerball himself, choosing instead to squeeze out the ointment and apply it with his fingers.

“Mm,” Bao Tingyuan slowed his movements.

Wen Cishu realized he had been staring at strange things for too long, so he looked away, turning his gaze to the sunset outside the car window.

As the area covered by the ointment gradually expanded, he automatically tilted his head down to expose more skin.

Only when the rollerball moved back and forth along a certain vertebra did Wen Cishu finally ask, "Is this spot bad?"

Instantly, the sensation of the rollerball disappeared from his skin.

Bao Tingyuan withdrew his hand. "All done."

"Oh." Wen Cishu straightened slightly and playfully held out his hand, smiling. "The cap!"

His eyes curved, his expression radiating warmth as he smiled.

Bao Tingyuan drew him in closer, his tall nose bridge nearly pressing against Wen Cishu’s cheek, the tip lightly brushing his soft earlobe.

From the ambiguous gesture, Wen Cishu sensed a hint of unusual clinginess. Remembering that Bao Tingyuan might not have slept well the night before, he took the ointment from his hand and slowly twisted the cap shut.

Then, he watched as Bao Tingyuan’s hand slid the ointment into his jacket pocket, like it was something valuable.

Wen Cishu gently stroked his arm and asked softly, "You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?"

Though Bao Tingyuan looked wide awake, Wen Cishu still felt concerned.

Bao Tingyuan’s lips near his ear moved slightly, the explanation on the tip of his tongue turning into a low, quiet hum.

That single sound seemed to carry exhaustion and a rare moment of unguarded honesty, melting Wen Cishu’s heart as he instinctively wrapped his arms around him.

Napping now was out of the question.

When his earlobe was brushed again by Bao Tingyuan’s nose, Wen Cishu whispered softly, "Then let’s sleep early tonight."

The moment the words left his mouth, he remembered what happened two nights ago and unconsciously bit his lower lip.

His body, loose just moments ago, stiffened slightly, especially where it made contact with Bao Tingyuan.

Amidst the warm breath accompanying the words, Wen Cishu heard him speak in his usual composed tone.

A sentence that sounded simple enough, yet it made Wen Cishu’s fingertips curl slightly, his fingers tightening reflexively on Bao Tingyuan’s jacket.

"Tonight, I want to hear you tell a story."