Chapter 37

Chapter 37

On Weibo.

Under the photo of Wen Cishu and He Jing, comments poured in from all directions.

"Wow, who is this stunning guy?"

"OMG screaming—is this a new recruit from Xiao Jing’s company?"

"Nope, not an actor. He's the non-celebrity dad from *Zai Zai the Superman*—and super hot!"

"You two actually know each other? What happened? Is the beauty going into acting now?"

"He Jing actually posted a photo with this gorgeous man without even Photoshopping his own face! That takes guts!"

"Judging by He Jing’s outfit, this must be on the set of *Blazing Fire*. Last week they announced Chu Han joined as the new female lead. So maybe Mommy went to visit Teacher Chu on set?"

As netizens speculated, Chu Han posted photos of Bao Yiming and Wen Cishu on her Weibo.

Bao Yiming was dressed in costume, standing outside the bank set grinning brightly at the camera.

"I thought the beauty was acting! Turns out it's Ming Zai. Who knew a kid could pull off a pompadour so well?"

"Ming Zai has always been a biracial cutie! Though next to Dad, he might get slightly overshadowed."

One photo showed Wen Cishu lounging in a director’s chair on set, legs casually crossed, eyes lifting slightly while tipping a white hat in greeting.

Dressed in soft beige and light brown tones, paired with brown leather loafers, his relaxed posture and subtle smile gave off effortless cool—an air of serene, unworldly elegance.

"So that's the full look! He Jing didn’t even catch the hat in his photo."

"Mommy’s range is unbelievable! In ancient costumes, he’s pure nobleman; in modern wear, total old Hollywood glamour."

"Can’t even imagine how luxurious Wifey would look in heavy furs and flashy jewelry (calling out a certain fashion magazine editor—can you book him already or not?)."

One fan quickly edited the original photo into black-and-white, added a glossy English magazine logo, instantly turning it into a high-end cover shot. It got tens of thousands of likes within minutes.

In the image, the distant gaze and calm expression made him look heavenly—like a celestial being.

"If he were my Mommy, I’d work hard just to buy him clothes and jewelry so he could change for me every day."

"Ming Zai: No need, my Dad’s got it covered (*￣︶￣)(smug face)"

"For the ten thousandth time—so jealous of Ming Zai’s Dad!"

-

Bao Yiming had only come to play around on set, but when leaving, he received a small red envelope for his guest appearance—similar to the lucky money packets given during Chinese New Year.

He was thrilled and handed it over to Wen Cishu with both hands.

Wen Cishu asked, "Why give it to me? This is your first paycheck from acting, you know."

Bao Yiming replied like it was obvious, "Exactly why!"

Wen Cishu smiled and took it for safekeeping, planning to keep it at home as a sweet keepsake.

Chu Han booked a table at a restaurant and invited the dad and son for dinner.

But as they reached the car, Xingxing hesitantly asked Chu Han, "Mom... can I ride with big brother instead?"

Hearing this, Bao Yiming glanced up at the aunt. "Sure."

Since the seats were separate, Wen Cishu volunteered, "Then I’ll ride with Sister Han? Do you guys need to talk privately?"

Xingxing lowered his head, looking embarrassed for the first time.

Chu Han said, "Xingxing, you still need to sit in a child safety seat. It won’t work for you to ride with Brother and Uncle."

"Huh?" Bao Yiming looked at his little brother in surprise.

Xingxing pouted—he just hated having to sit in a child’s safety seat in front of his brother!

In the end, he was still buckled into the car by his mother and sat pouting in silence.

Wen Cishu couldn’t suppress a smile when he saw Xingxing’s adorable expression for the first time.

Chu Han stroked her son's head. "Be good, Xingxing. When you're taller than 4'9", Mommy will remove the safety seat, okay? Look, Brother Yiming and Uncle aren't laughing at you."

Bao Yiming quickly grabbed his hand. "Xingxing, it's safer this way. I used one till I was seven too."

Xingxing glanced at his brother. "Really?"

"Mm!"

Bao Yiming nodded earnestly, like a proper big brother. "You'll grow tall soon. We just need to eat more."

That's what he'd always been told, and he believed it wholeheartedly.

Xingxing nodded vigorously, resolved to eat extra later.

Chu Han settled next to Wen Cishu and whispered, "Yi Ming is really mature."

Wen Cishu looked at the boy's profile, thinking that over the years, he'd done little to help with raising the child.

Most of the boy’s maturity probably came from his other dad.

-

At the Cantonese restaurant in the small Western-style house.

While eating, Wen Cishu received a dinner photo from Bao Tingyuan.

It was a takeout meal in a flimsy plastic box, clearly a last-minute order from some hotel.

Wen Cishu immediately put down his chopsticks and typed, "Eating at the office? Why so simple?"

Bao Tingyuan: "Not much time. Just grabbing a quick bite."

Wen Cishu: "Should we have meals from home sent over in the future?"

Bao Tingyuan: "Mm."

"When will you be home?"

Wen Cishu couldn’t bear to send a photo of his own fancy spread in comparison.

"We’re talking while we eat, so it’s taking longer. Probably an hour and a half before we get home."

Bao Tingyuan: "Is the food to your liking?"

Wen Cishu typed, "It’s pretty good. The vibe’s nice too. Let’s come together next time?"

Bao Tingyuan: "Okay."

"Should I come get you and Yi Ming?"

Wen Cishu: "Don’t worry about it, just focus on work."

Bao Tingyuan: "Okay, see you at home."

Over the sound of the kids and Chu Han chatting excitedly, Wen Cishu reopened the photo and scrutinized it carefully.

He thought to himself: Has Bao Tingyuan really been eating like this at work all this time?

He’d have to mention it to Uncle Xu later.

-

Back at home,

Wen Cishu handed his hat to the maid and took a warm, damp towel to wipe his hands. Seeing Uncle Xu approaching, he brought up Bao Tingyuan’s dinner situation.

Uncle Xu was equally surprised: "The young master eats takeout? That’s..."

Wen Cishu said, "He’s probably trying not to be a bother."

But it’s not right for the household to handle everything except his meals.

He continued, "When he gets home, I’ll talk to him. We’ll start having meals prepared and sent to him."

"I agree. I’ll also mention it to Albert later." Uncle Xu frowned. "Albert’s been with the young master for years now. How’d he miss arranging decent dinners?"

At the company,

Albert sneezed as he walked out of the elevator into the office.

His assistant, Xiao He, handed him a tissue. "Is it cold out?"

Albert shrugged. "Not really."

He noticed Mr. Bao’s office door was open—someone was in there.

Xiao He whispered, "Hey, quick question. Any idea why Mr. Bao told me to order a basic takeout meal today?"

Albert had been out handling business that evening and usually wasn’t responsible for meal arrangements, so he was clueless.

But as a pro, he’d never gossip about the boss—even to his team.

He just gave a vague reply, "If Mr. Bao said to do it, just do it."

Xiao He frowned but just muttered, "Oh."

Honestly, Albert thought it was weird too.

But lately, Mr. Bao had been acting off a lot.

Like yesterday—he called for overtime, then suddenly left early.

-

Back at the Bao house,

Bao Yiming was coming downstairs when he saw a tall silhouette.

"Dad! You’re back?"

He bounded down the stairs in three quick steps, eagerly grabbing the dark blue suit from his dad’s arm and handing it to the housekeeper. "Dad must be tired from work."

Old Xu, witnessing this, rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

Was the young master actually being sensible today? Had he been replaced?

"That's my boy," Bao Tingyuan said, ruffling his hair. "I haven't forgotten about tomorrow's plans."

"Hehe~" Bao Yiming grinned, immediately caught by his father. "Oh, Dad, I earned some money on set today!" Excitedly, he launched into a vivid retelling of his day filming.

Bao Tingyuan glanced toward the bedroom upstairs but didn’t interrupt. Instead, he led him to the couch, listening patiently as his son animatedly described everything, chiming in when needed.

Noticing this, Old Xu quickly brought over a cup of warm water.

Bao Tingyuan took a sip, waiting for his son to finish before casually asking, "Did a lot of people ask your little dad for photos on set?"

"Mm…" Bao Yiming thought for a moment. "Yeah, so many!"

Holding the cup in his large hand, his long fingers slowly turning it, Bao Tingyuan gently asked, "Did you have dinner with Xingxing?"

"Yep!"

Bao Yiming continued, "Me, Little Dad, Xingxing, and his mom. His mom let each of us pick three dishes so everyone could eat what they liked. It was such a great idea—I already memorized it!"

Adjusting his glasses, Bao Tingyuan listened to the childish rambling, his emerald eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "And Little Dad? Already asleep?"

"Oh!" Bao Yiming, who had been sitting cross-legged beside his dad, jumped up right away.

Bao Tingyuan raised a hand, giving his son’s shoulder a gentle squeeze to steady him.

"Easy there."

Bao Yiming ducked down to find his slippers, muttering, "Little Dad’s taking a bath and suddenly wanted some fruit."

He turned to the old man. "Grandpa Xu, slice up some fruit for Little Dad!"

He gestured with his hands. "A little plate’s fine."

After a pause, he added, "Grandpa Xu, I want one too, hehe~"

Bao Tingyuan gave his son’s shoulder a squeeze and stood. "I’ll take it to him."

"Huh?" Bao Yiming looked up.

His dad was way too tall.

He still remembered when he was little, once tilting his head back trying to see his father’s eyes, only to lose his balance and land on his butt.

Bao Tingyuan said, "Yiming, we’re going horseback riding tomorrow. Rest up for tomorrow."

"But…" Bao Yiming was about to argue—sleeping next to Little Dad always made him sleep so well. Instead, his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Dad, do you have something to talk to Little Dad about again today?"

Bao Tingyuan looked at his clever face—it looked a bit like Wen Cishu’s. "Mmm."

"Alright, alright." Bao Yiming giggled and bounced up the stairs. "I’ll go get my riding outfit ready then."

Holding the railing, he turned back to his dad. "It’s a new outfit—you haven’t seen this one yet, Dad!"

Bao Tingyuan gave a nod. "Alright, I’ll check it out tomorrow."

After Bao Yiming returned to his room, Steward Xu emerged carrying two plates of freshly cut fruit. “Where is Little Master?” He paused. “Then I’ll take it over.”

Bao Tingyuan accepted the delicate white round tray with one hand and picked up a plate, handing it to Steward Xu. “Uncle Xu, take this to Yi Ming’s room.”

“Alright.” Holding the plate of fruit, Steward Xu watched as the eldest young master walked with casual ease toward the elevator.

He couldn’t help but notice that lately, apart from when he was with Mr. Wen, the eldest young master had been using the elevator alone far more frequently.

-

Bathroom.

Wen Cishu rested the back of his neck on a soft towel, reclining in the milky-white oval massage bathtub, the jets massaging his back and legs.

Gazing at the nightscape beyond the floor-to-ceiling window, he drifted in a haze of comfort.

*Knock knock.*

“Come in.” Thinking it was his playful attendant (nicknamed “little monkey”), Wen Cishu didn’t turn his head, simply extending his hand out of the tub in a childish tone. “My dear little unicorn pal, finally back with delicious fruit~”

Bao Tingyuan stepped inside, met by a wave of humid, perfumed warmth.

His gaze settled on the man in the bathtub.

The swirling blue-purple bathwater shimmered like galaxies, rippling beneath him, as if hiding an ethereal, alabaster-skinned mermaid.

The graceful curve of his shoulders and neck seemed sculpted by medieval masters of divine Madonnas—delicate and refined.

As Wen Cishu lifted his hand, indigo droplets trailed from his flushed fingertips, tracing faint, winding paths along his porcelain skin.

When Wen Cishu failed to hear the usual liveliness of his “monkey,” he whipped his head around—and locked eyes with the man standing nearby.

His pupils shrank instinctively. His hand gripped the edge of the tub, pressing down as he submerged himself further into the water.

“Where’s Yi Ming?”

“Back in his room.” Bao Tingyuan closed the distance deliberately, setting the tray on the white marble counter before tilting his chin slightly and undoing the first button of his black shirt.

Wen Cishu stole a glance at his retreating figure, then quickly looked away as the man turned back with the fruit plate.

His upturned phoenix eyes (a mark of beauty in Chinese aesthetics) fixed on the undulating blue-purple surface, grateful for the scented bath sphere chosen by his attendant—though its fragrance was overwhelmingly floral.

“Uh…” Wen Cishu lifted his gaze as Bao Tingyuan sat on the stool beside the tub, thinking, *Why did the little monkey push that stool over earlier?!*

“By the way, I told Uncle Xu that from now on, your dinners should be served in your room.”

Though he hadn’t soaked long, Wen Cishu’s face was flushed—his earlobes, knuckles, knees, and other tender spots tinged pink, while the rest of his skin remained smooth and pale, like set cream.

“Thank you.”

Bao Tingyuan pierced a wedge of blueberry with a silver fork and brought it to his rosy lips.

Wen Cishu, suddenly too shy to lift his arms, kept them folded before him, obediently parting his lips to accept the fruit bursting with tangy sweetness.

Chewing slowly, he fumbled for small talk. “We’re past saying thanks, aren’t we?”

He glanced up quickly, only to meet those shadowed green eyes directly, tripping over his reply. “…Right?”

“Mm.” Calmly, Bao Tingyuan continued feeding him blueberries, asking in measured tones, “How long have you been soaking?”

Patients with heart conditions must avoid both excessively hot baths and prolonged immersion.

Wen Cishu nibbled on half a blueberry, the cool juice filling his mouth as he mumbled, "Not long."

He shrugged slightly. "Maybe you should get back to work?"

His collarbone shifted, creating a deep dip between it and his straight shoulders.

"Finished."

Wen Cishu: "..."

Somehow, he felt like his gaze could see right through the blue-purple water, leaving nothing hidden.

From his chest down to his waist, then to his legs and knees, everything tensed awkwardly, stiffening to the point where even the extra-sweet blueberry offered to him no longer tasted as good.

Bao Tingyuan: "Yi Ming told me about what happened on set."

Wen Cishu blinked at the glittering water, distracted. "Oh? What did he say?"

Bao Tingyuan followed his line of sight, glancing at the blush spreading across his chest. "You're too deep in the water. Sit up a little?"

Wen Cishu lowered his eyes, his damp lashes sticking together as he murmured, "I've soaked enough."

His voice was especially soft now, like a melted marshmallow, sweet enough to melt on the tongue.

"Mm." Bao Tingyuan got up to grab a bathrobe.

Wen Cishu: ???

His dry lips parted slightly as he turned his face just enough to catch sight of those long legs sheathed in black dress pants returning to the edge of the tub.

"You okay?"

Bao Tingyuan leaned down, holding the bathrobe, toward the blushing man.

Wen Cishu shook his head. "No."

Pressing against the rim of the tub, he slowly rose to his feet.

With a splash, the porcelain-skinned figure emerged from the pool of shimmering blue-violet.

When Bao Tingyuan’s hand steadied him, Wen Cishu wondered if he really had soaked too long—his whole body flushed hot, his head spinning.

Was this a bath or a hot spring?!

"Look at me."

"Huh?" Startled by the command, Wen Cishu instinctively lifted his gaze to meet his eyes.

In an instant, he felt completely ensnared.

Silence stretched between them as they held each other’s stare.

Bao Tingyuan draped the bathrobe over his rounded shoulders, his tone and expression utterly calm. "No need to be shy in front of me."

Under that gaze, Wen Cishu almost stumbled, his palm pressing against Bao Tingyuan’s waist as if deliberately pulling him close.

After closing the robe, Bao Tingyuan quickly cinched the belt around his waist, then bent to scoop up the flushed man into his arms.

Wen Cishu rested his chin against Bao Tingyuan’s shoulder, tucking himself against him, and murmured, "Still gotta put on pajamas."

Bao Tingyuan nuzzled against his soft cheek: "Let's go to the dressing room."

They entered the dressing room through the bathroom door.

Cradled securely in Bao Tingyuan's strong arms, Wen Cishu felt him free one hand to reach for the pajamas.

Afraid of falling, Wen Cishu instinctively wrapped his fair, slender legs tightly around Bao Tingyuan's waist.

Bao Tingyuan selected a silk robe, then carried the man in his arms to the sofa.

The lights had not been turned on when they entered earlier.

The dressing room was always illuminated by warm orange floor lamps.

In the soft golden glow, Wen Cishu slipped out of his bathrobe.

Bao Tingyuan draped the silk robe around him, brushing aside the damp strands of hair clinging to the back of his neck.

As Wen Cishu went to grab the belt, Bao Tingyuan swiftly tied it first, then drew him into an embrace.

His broad, strong hand gently stroked Wen Cishu's back, as if soothing him.

He felt the palm linger directly over his heart.

Wen Cishu couldn’t help but recall how, the last time he recited poetry, his heart had raced—and Bao Tingyuan had done the same thing.

So... was he actually checking whether his heart was racing?