Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

In the evening, Wen Cishu and Bao Yiming were fiddling with an incense burner in the living room.

During dinner, Aunt Zhong had casually mentioned a pair of small hibiscus stone incense burners that had been delivered earlier, which got Bao Yiming curious. He kept pestering with questions.

Seeing his interest, Wen Cishu just had Aunt Zhong prepare the tools for making incense patterns.

Bao Yiming had never done this before, having only heard of “bathing and burning incense.” So while Aunt Zhong was getting things ready, he insisted on going back to his room to take a bath first.

Wen Cishu, seeing how serious he was, had to follow suit.

After his bath, on impulse, he changed into a traditional Chinese-style long robe with hidden lotus patterns. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, he fingered the two delicate pink hibiscus stone tripod incense burners.

The palm-sized objects were glossy and pink, their carvings intricate and refined.

Wen Cishu had always been into all kinds of hobbies at home. As long as he didn’t go out or run around, his parents supported him.

Besides reading and calligraphy, he had also tried his hand at incense patterns and even learned some carving.

In addition to the piano his parents had taught him since childhood, he had also taught himself guitar and picked up a few foreign languages.

But his patience was limited—he’d learn just enough. Once it was mastered, it was like beating a video game: no more interest, so he’d drop it.

Spinning the pink burner in his hand, Wen Cishu guessed it probably cost a fortune when it was bought.

When Aunt Zhong came with the incense supplies, Wen Cishu held up the burner in his palm and asked, “Aunt Zhong, was this bought by Yi Ming’s dad or sent over by his great-grandfather?”

Aunt Zhong replied, “By the eldest young master. How long has it been since Old Master Bao passed away?”

Wen Cishu had nothing to say to that.

But the more he looked at it, the more pink and delicate it seemed—like the soft pads of a kitten’s paws—totally unlike Bao Tingyuan’s usual demeanor.

Not just around Bao Tingyuan, but anywhere in the house, such a fresh, peach-blossom-like color was rare—except for the vibrant spring flowers in the garden.

Aunt Zhong put the incense down. “Old Xu said this was left behind by Old Master Bao.”

The small nine-grid wooden box was made of fine wood.

Even through the thin wooden slats, the rich aroma of the incense was unmistakable.

Wen Cishu sampled the fragrances and chose a blend primarily made of agarwood, spikenard, and sandalwood.

“Let Yi Ming pick one for himself when he comes.”

When Bao Yiming came bounding back excitedly, he was dazzled by how gorgeous his little dad looked, like a figure from a painting.

Holding onto Wen Cishu’s shoulder-length black hair, he pleaded, “Little Dad! Can you dress like this every day?”

Wen Cishu guided him by the shoulders to sit properly. “Sweetheart, this is sleepwear.”

Aunt Zhong had other tasks to attend to, so she left them to play, saying she’d clean up later.

Bao Yiming tested each incense blend and finally settled on a plum blossom scent.

Following his little dad’s steps, he carefully used a copper ash press to smooth out the white ash powder, then selected a brass seal mold with a peach pattern to spread the plum blossom incense onto it.

Worried he’d mess up the design when lifting it, he asked his little dad to help remove it.

Once everything was set, Wen Cishu lit the lotus-patterned incense powder and placed the pink rose quartz lid over it. White smoke curled upward in delicate tendrils through the intricate openwork carvings on the lid.

The air was instantly filled with a crisp yet lingering woody fragrance, soothing and calming.

Wen Cishu was just savoring the subtle aroma when he noticed the little monkey hunched over the table, nose almost touching the incense burner, inhaling deeply.

"What's going on?"

Bao Yiming sidled up to his little dad, sniffing curiously at the incense. "Little Dad, don’t you think this scent is kind of like Big Dad’s?"

Wen Cishu played it cool, leaning back slightly and asking lightly, "That nose of yours is sharp, huh?"

Bao Yiming proudly lifted his head. "Every time Big Dad picks me up, I smell it really clearly."

Wen Cishu smiled without saying a word.

Seemed like the memory of being manhandled by Big Dad was deeply ingrained.

Maybe he should find time to talk to Bao Tingyuan about not always grabbing the kid like that.

Bao Yiming hurriedly took a picture. "This is my first time preparing incense!"

He snapped several photos of his adorable peach-blossom incense powder.

Wen Cishu recalled the message he had sent Bao Tingyuan in the afternoon—still no response.

As he was thinking about it, there was a knock at the door.

Both father and son turned their heads as the door opened and Bao Tingyuan stepped in.

Wen Cishu’s brow arched slightly. Wasn’t he supposed to be busy tonight, coming back late? It couldn’t be past seven yet.

Bao Tingyuan noticed him lounging lazily against the three-legged rest, black hair spilling across the pale moon-white sleep robe like spilled moonlight, his languid posture radiating effortless charm.

His fingers twitched slightly before he walked over, looking at his son. "Yi Ming, what are you doing?"

"I’m learning how to burn incense with Little Dad!"

Bao Yiming nestled close to his little dad, babbling excitedly. "It’s this cool ancient tradition—and of course, Little Dad is totally part of it."

Wen Cishu looked at the goofy little monkey.

He had only just offhandedly explained a bit while handling the incense earlier—how’d it come out so weird?

Bao Tingyuan breathed in the faint agarwood aroma as he approached the daybed, then reached out and messed up his son’s hair. "Did you just call Grandpa?"

"Huh?" Bao Yiming looked up, amber eyes wide with confusion.

How did Big Dad know he had called Grandpa after his bath?

Wen Cishu was momentarily stunned before realizing—probably only the little monkey’s grandfather would use such formal phrasing in the whole family.

He smirked knowingly, but then noticed Bao Tingyuan’s hand shift from their son’s head to his own shoulder, brushing his hair back. His faint smile faded.

Wen Cishu lowered his gaze, tilting his head slightly at the touch, his long hair whispering down his back.

When the fingers withdrew, he couldn’t help but lift his eyes again. "Weren’t you busy today?"

"Mn." Bao Tingyuan looked at him. "I’ve got some work to do in the study."

Wen Cishu understood, he had come home to work overtime.

In the faint wisps of agarwood smoke, one stood and the other leaned, their gazes meeting for a few seconds across their half-seated youngest son.

"Oh!"

At Bao Yiming’s soft "Oh!", Wen Cishu quickly looked away, turning his attention to the delicately carved incense burner on the tea table.

Bao Yiming tugged at his father's suit sleeve. "Dad, can you spare me some time? I have something important to talk to you about!"

He gave him a serious, adult-like glance.

From Bao Tingyuan’s height, his son’s expression looked more like a silly face.

Fortunately, the boy had inherited a third of Wen Cishu’s delicate features, so even his antics were cute.

Wen Cishu remembered: it must be the task he had assigned the boy that morning.

He lowered his lashes, unsure if Bao Tingyuan would agree.

"Yi Ming, go to my study first. I'll join you in ten minutes."

The calm reply took him by surprise.

Wen Cishu shot him a quick glance before looking at their son's profile.

"Okay, no problem!" Bao Yiming sprang up, turning back to remind him, "Papa, don’t touch my incense burner, okay? I’ll light it later."

"Got it. Dad won’t touch it." Wen Cishu straightened his pajamas as he sat up.

Bao Yiming bounded off, sticking his head out through the door after closing it. "Big Dad, Papa, I’m being good, right? Heehee~"

Before Wen Cishu could react, the boy had already shut the door.

He thought for a moment but couldn’t recall anything urgent that needed immediate discussion, so he stayed silent.

Bao Tingyuan walked toward the light switch and remarked, "When I came back, the moonlight was beautiful."

"Hmm?" Wen Cishu turned to look at the balcony outside the living room.

The window wasn’t fully closed, and the sheer curtains swayed gracefully in the night breeze, framing a breathtaking stretch of moonlight.

The room darkened suddenly.

Wen Cishu recalled last night’s events, his fingers brushing the cool brass ash smoother as he lowered his gaze.

Bao Tingyuan stepped forward, guiding his feet into slippers. "Didn’t you have photos to show me?"

Wen Cishu paused mid-motion. So he’d changed his plans? Just for the photos?

Resting a hand on his arm, he muttered softly, "Why’d you turn the lights off? You’ll strain your eyes."

No sooner had he spoken than Bao Tingyuan’s arm circled his waist, lifting him up.

Though there was a ten-centimeter height difference between them, Wen Cishu was standing on the footrest by the couch, narrowing the gap. The sudden motion brought his nose nearly grazing Bao Tingyuan’s lips.

The agarwood scent enveloped him, filling every breath with Bao Tingyuan—from his skin to his lungs, utterly immersed.

"Hmm?" Wen Cishu lifted his eyes, meeting his luminous green gaze in the dim light, and asked slowly, "So… we’re not looking at photos?"

Bao Tingyuan: "Nine more minutes."

Wen Cishu’s dark eyes showed a flicker of confusion.

Bao Tingyuan cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing over the soft earlobe: "Dance with me?"

The request came out of nowhere, yet his tone was so sincere and tender that Wen Cishu was momentarily dazed.

Lucky.

Wen Cishu thought, glad he’d had the sense to turn off the lights—otherwise, Bao Tingyuan would surely see his inexplicably flushed cheeks.

"Mm."

As soon as he spoke, he was swept into Bao Tingyuan’s arms and carried toward the balcony.

Woozy, Wen Cishu found his footing, his hand clasped and waist held, his thoughts racing: Bao Tingyuan speaks so little, but his actions…

Tonight, there was no music—only the faint scent of incense and the gentle moonlight.

They danced wordlessly, familiar yet new.

Like how Wen Cishu felt there was no space left between them; every movement brought their shoulders together, their bodies pressed close.

He wore a light, soft Chinese-style sleeping robe, its hem embroidered with delicate patterns, flaring with his movements like a twirling skirt. Bao Tingyuan, meanwhile, was dressed in a sharp business suit, the lines of his shoulders and back sharply defined.

Whenever Wen Cishu pressed closer to Bao Tingyuan, it was as if he were a soft, fragrant flower curling into him.

Their silent dance lasted nearly eight minutes.

As it neared its end, Wen Cishu found himself reluctant to stop but had to remind him: "You can’t keep the kid waiting."

Bao Tingyuan tightened his embrace.

Wen Cishu’s back was firmly stroked by his broad palm, his body sinking into his chest.

Those hands swiftly slid from his slender waist down to his long legs, scooping him up easily.

In the dim night, Wen Cishu was carried to the bed in the bedroom.

Bao Tingyuan tucked him in: "I’ll talk to Yi Ming. Rest first."

After a pause, he added, "I’ll be up late tonight. I’ll have Yi Ming come keep you company later."

Sunk into the soft blankets, Wen Cishu fumed silently: After dancing with you, you just toss me aside? Think I’ll just take that, do you?

Annoyed, he went to slap Bao Tingyuan’s hand away and pull the covers up himself.

But—*smack*—the loud smack shattered the silence, leaving the room dead quiet.

"I…" Wen Cishu didn’t mean to smack him and hurried to sit up.

Bao Tingyuan gently caught his hand, massaging it gently: "Understood. I’ll be back after."

Wen Cishu: "...Oh."

He tugged the covers over himself, closed his eyes, and clamped his lips shut.

-

Study.

Bao Yiming timed it perfectly, eyes glued to the door. When Big Dad pushed it open, he exclaimed in surprise, “Big Dad, you’re so punctual! Right on the dot—ten minutes!”

Bao Tingyuan closed the door behind him and started to take off his suit jacket, but caught a hint of perfume on the fabric, so he let it hang.

He settled onto the sofa. “Yi Ming, what did you want to talk about?”

Bao Yiming had practiced his lines over and over in his head and now delivered them smoothly.

“Big Dad, the show gave us a chance to invite another parent to join us.”

Bao Tingyuan already knew about this from Albert. “And your thoughts are?”

Bao Yiming was practically vibrating with mischief, as if deliberately letting his scheming show.

“If Big Dad rides with me and wins, then I’ll invite you. Do you want to go?”

As he grew older, he’d come to realize that his father’s intimidating aura stemmed from those piercing, fathomless green eyes and his habit of speaking little and revealing even less—making him utterly inscrutable.

Mystery springs from the unknown, and mystery breeds awe, even fear.

In the pause that followed, Bao Tingyuan noticed his son’s unusual behavior.

Suddenly, Bao Yiming drew in his sprawled legs and sat up straight, scooting awkwardly to press his back against the sofa.

His arms seemed restless, searching for the armrests, but since he was seated in the middle of the three-seater, he darted to one side and finally draped an arm over it.

Bao Tingyuan frowned slightly, a suspicion forming in his mind.

To test it, he leisurely studied his adorable youngest.

Bao Yiming: ?

Ohhh! He didn’t have glasses!

Indeed, the cool glint of his glasses added to the mystique.

But the moment he spoke again, Bao Yiming slipped back into childish obliviousness, shuffling his slippered feet back and forth across the carpet. “Big Dad? What do you think?”

“And your Papa’s opinion?” Bao Tingyuan asked.

Bao Yiming answered matter-of-factly, “Of course he’d love for you to join us!”

“Then why use this to negotiate with me?”

“Huh?”

Bao Yiming blinked, caught off guard by his father’s swift, pointed question.

He jutted his lip. “Okay, I shouldn’t have done that. But…”

Bao Tingyuan pushed himself up from the armrest. “Your Papa mentioned picking a day for hotpot. We’ll go to the stables first, then eat.”

“Yes!” Bao Yiming jumped up. “But Big Dad, you can’t hold back—you have to promise!”

This was crucial to him.

Bao Tingyuan studied his son—once a tiny bundle, now a lanky nine-year-old, still a bundle of energy since day one.

“You got it.”

"Awesome~~" Bao Yiming forgot how he had just been imitating Big Dad and instantly became like a little monkey, dying to jump on the couch and bounce around.

-

In the bedroom.

Wen Cishu heard his son come in, opened his eyes, and turned his head. "Yi Ming?"

Bao Yiming had thought Little Dad was asleep. He climbed onto the bed.

"Little Dad, if Big Dad didn’t agree to go on the show, would you be disappointed?"

Wen Cishu half-hugged him. "Not particularly. Why? Did he refuse?"

"Hehe! Of course he agreed!" Bao Yiming had planned to tease Little Dad, but his face broke into a grin before he could help it.

He squirmed in Little Dad’s arms and told him about Big Dad’s promise: "Big Dad said he’d have Uncle check out the show arrangements and get everything set."

Wen Cishu poked his son’s cheek. "My, you're something! You actually convinced Big Dad! That's really impressive!"

"Huh?"

Bao Yiming lifted his confused eyes—how could Little Dad have such a wrong idea? "Oh, Big Dad said he’ll come very late to stay with you, Little Dad, and gave me a special job."

Wen Cishu frowned slightly. "What job?"

"To put you to sleep~"

Bao Yiming lightly patted the blanket. "Little Dad, be good~ Mingming will tell you a unicorn story~~"

Wen Cishu: == ... Who the heck wants to hear about unicorns?!

Who!