Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

Because of Wen Cishu’s health, Bao Yiming was the one mainly appearing on the show. However, the audience didn’t express any dissatisfaction—in fact, they were deeply concerned about his condition and hoped the show's crew could pass along their get-well wishes.

The other three guests also sent messages of concern through the WeChat group chat.

During the live broadcast, Zhu Wei had her assistant bring over some heating pads for digestion—similar in purpose to the herbal sachets Dr. Lin had given him.

By evening, Wen Cishu received a check-in call from the show’s producer and learned that fans were hoping he would create a social media account. Even if he didn’t post anything himself, it would give his and Ming Zai’s fans a place to leave supportive messages.

Wen Cishu checked with the three celebrity guests in the group before deciding to open an account on Little Sweet Potato under the username "Ming Zai and Papa."

Not sure what to write, he simply posted a smiley face.

After the three guests interacted by @mentioning him, the variety show team also announced the news on Weibo.

Within minutes, Wen Cishu’s account started blowing up with comments and likes flooding in nonstop.

"Babe~~~xoxo"

"Gorgeous, how are you feeling? Any better? I'm so worried!"

"Mama don't be scared, we won't post anything weird."

Seeing countless caring messages, with the top comments already racking up tens of thousands of likes, Wen Cishu replied: "Feeling much better now, thank you for your concern."

"AHHHHHHH BABE REPLIED TO ME!!"

"Awwww babe is so sweet, hugs~"

As more and more fans discovered the account, the comment section went wild with goofy memes and jokes from recent episodes.

Fans could instantly see which posts “Ming Zai’s Papa” liked, which made them go even crazier posting pictures.

momo: "Mama, these are Ming Zai’s daddy, right? Right right right? [Photos x3]"

The photos included a side view from rumors about a China-France event, a faraway photo of Ming Zai boating on a lake, and a fuzzy distant shot of a tourist during the second episode’s filming.

When Wen Cishu scrolled past the comment, he opened each photo one by one.

Though he’d never seen them before, he immediately recognized Bao Tingyuan in all of them.

He liked the comment as a quiet acknowledgment.

"OMGGGG IS THIS OFFICIAL CONFIRMATION?!"

"I wanted to send you two to the civil affairs bureau, but then I remembered you're already a married husband duo."

"I'm dying to see the couple appear together on the show!"

"Next episode, give us a close-up of those lovebirds, okay?"

-

In the second-floor living room of the mansion sat "gifts" delivered from France.

Bao Tingyuan's mother, Elena, came from an aristocratic family that had produced several renowned fashion designers and managed a vast family business.

She herself once attended one of the world’s most prestigious fashion design schools and even struggled as a "broke student" for a few years. Through a twist of fate, she also shared a hush-hush romance with Li Yun, who worked at the French consulate, before eventually returning home to inherit the family business.

To be precise, Wen Cishu had only met Madame Elena at their wedding in France—she was regal yet refined.

From what he knew, the lady had never set foot in the Bao household.

Wen Cishu looked at the many gift boxes expressly addressed to him. Naturally, no one had opened them ahead of time—not even Bao Yiming.

He lounged on the sofa, a blanket tucked over his legs, asking Aunt Zhong to help open them and see what they were.

Aunt Zhong didn’t get much excitement in life, but opening gift blind boxes for Second Master ranked high.

Just then, Uncle Xu came in with a stomach-soothing tonic.

Wen Cishu took it and drank it down, then popped a honeyed plum into his mouth.

Originally, Bao Tingyuan had planned to stay with him, but Wen Cishu sent him off to work in the study instead.

He didn’t want his own minor issues running Bao Tingyuan ragged too.

Wen Cishu asked, "Uncle Xu, why did Yiming’s grandma suddenly send all these things? Do you know why?"

Uncle Xu and Aunt Zhong shared a look.

"Hmm?" Wen Cishu turned to Aunt Zhong.

Why did it feel like everyone in the house knew something except him?

Uncle Xu chuckled. "You’d best ask the eldest young master."

*If he told me,* Wen Cishu thought, *would I be asking you?*

He tugged the blanket tighter and sighed softly. "Ah, Uncle Xu treats me like an outsider."

Uncle Xu wiped the smile off his face. "How could that be? It’s just—"

He threw Aunt Zhong a pointed glance.

Aunt Zhong opened a deep blue velvet box. "Whoa, what’ve we here?"

She held it out to Second Master. "What are these little gemstones shaped like pebbles—both round and angular? Were they not polished properly?"

Inside the box lay a necklace flatly displayed: a gold cross pendant the size of a palm.

The four ends of the cross each bore a purple-blue gemstone set in gold, while the intersection held a large green gemstone—clearly asymmetrical in shape.

Wen Cishu levered himself up a bit and took it with interest. "This must be Byzantine-era jewelry. It’s designed to look this raw. Back then there were no machines—everything was handcrafted. This level of detail is already exquisite."

Uncle Xu, knowing Aunt Zhong had helped shift the topic, passed over the magnifying glass beside him to sir.

Wen Cishu caught it, his gaze shifting between the two of them with a half-smile. "You're just humoring me, right?"

But he didn’t press further, instead holding the small magnifying glass to admire this ornate piece with its heavy hand-chiseled marks.

Uncle Xu was just picking up the tray with the medicine bowl, preparing to leave, when Wen Cishu, still studying the gemstone, leisurely spoke up, "Uncle Xu, has Grandmother Yilena really never visited China?"

Wen Cishu wanted to confirm, afraid his memory might be hazy from all these years.

"That’s right," Uncle Xu replied. "Back when you and the eldest young master got married, Old Master Bao invited her, but Grandmother Yilena declined."

Wen Cishu lifted his eyes and handed the jewelry box back to Aunt Zhong, his slender fingers toying with the magnifying glass embedded with small rubies.

"But I remember, the wedding in Paris was mainly handled by Grandmother Yilena. Right?"

Uncle Xu, recalling these past events, felt a twinge of nostalgia—after all, Old Master Bao had passed away, and there was no one left to share these stories with.

He nodded and recounted slowly, "Originally, Old Master Bao planned to hold the wedding in China, but the eldest young master insisted on having one in France as well. The old master at the time..." He paused meaningfully and smiled. "Old Master Bao valued the eldest young master greatly, so he never refused any of his requests. The old master thought he’d personally oversee the arrangements in France, but Madame Yilena declined."

Wen Cishu, rarely hearing such details, grew intrigued.

Even Aunt Zhong listened attentively—after all, the Wen family wouldn’t have known these inside stories.

Seeing their interest, Uncle Xu carefully collected his thoughts.

"If I recall correctly, Madame Yilena called Old Master Bao. That call was... quite blunt. It left the old master fuming for half the day. She essentially said that matters in Paris were none of his concern. If he was willing to attend, she’d send a private plane to bring him to France; if his health didn’t permit it, she wouldn’t force him but would still warmly host any guests from China."

Hearing this, Wen Cishu understood that Madame Yilena had never held the Bao family in any regard.

Unable to recall the specifics, he asked, "So in the end, did the old master take her private plane?"

Uncle Xu chuckled. "Of course not. The old master had too much pride—he took the Bao family jet. He complained several times that Madame Yilena had no respect for elders. I was worried they’d clash when they met in France, but thankfully things went smoothly."

Aunt Zhong interjected, "It was a wedding, after all. If the Bao family started quarreling among themselves, what kind of marriage would that be? Might as well finish the meal and end it there."

Uncle Xu nodded. "They had to consider the bigger picture. Both were family patriarchs, after all."

"Ohhh—"

Suddenly, Wen Cishu raised the magnifying glass in his hand, mimicking an auctioneer's gavel bang in the air.

"My birthday’s coming up. This is a gift from Grandmother Yilena."

His clever, phoenix-shaped eyes darted playfully between the two middle-aged faces. "Right? Haha!"

Uncle Xu hadn’t expected the conversation to accidentally remind Wen Cishu. Holding the medicine tray, he smiled. "I'd better get back to work. If you’d like to hear more about Old Master Bao’s stories, feel free to ask me another time."

Before Uncle Xu could leave, Wen Cishu asked one final question: "Did this delivery include anything for Yi Ming’s father?"

This time, Madame Yilena had sent many items by private plane—she surely wouldn’t forget her own son.

Uncle Xu replied, "There was, but it was jewelry the eldest young master had previously sent to France. After maintenance, they were returned together this time."

Bao Tingyuan’s jewelry?

Wen Cishu couldn’t quite place what that might be.

He rarely saw Bao Tingyuan wear accessories—if anything, the occasional cufflinks or shirt stays, functional pieces.

He raised his left hand and looked at the wedding ring.

Bao Tingyuan wore it every day, so it wouldn’t need maintenance.

Wen Cishu spaced out for a moment, a thought flashing through his mind:

The day before yesterday, Bao Tingyuan said he would move into his room after the show finished recording—was that tonight?

He lifted his gaze and noticed Uncle Xu still seemed to be waiting.

Feeling guilty, he quickly said, “It’s nothing. You’re free to go, Uncle Xu.”

Uncle Xu left first.

Wen Cishu was absentmindedly staring at the distant screen when it slowly parted in the middle.

He felt an unexpected surge of joy, about to smile—until the little monkey suddenly popped out, leaving him frozen mid-smile.

Bao Yiming bounded over, laughing loudly, “Little Dad! Were you expecting Big Dad to come?”

Wen Cishu: *Madame Yilena’s plane probably hasn’t left yet. There’s still time to bundle this little monkey up and send him off to a boarding school in Paris.*

“Mhm.”

Wen Cishu didn’t deny it, beckoning him over.

Bao Yiming saw Aunt Zhong tidying up the jewelry box and leaned against his Little Dad’s side, reaching out to rub his tummy. “Little Dad, are you feeling unwell now?”

“Doing much better.”

Wen Cishu ate small, frequent meals throughout the day.

Bao Tingyuan had arranged for the housekeepers to deliver five meals at set times, all consisting of easy-to-digest foods.

He drew his son closer and asked, “Did you come from Big Dad’s study? Is he still busy?”

“Yeah.” Bao Yiming nodded, then lowered his voice to whisper when he saw Aunt Zhong taking the box to another room. “There’s a big box in Big Dad’s study too. I wanted to see what was inside, but Big Dad stopped me.”

Wen Cishu guessed it was probably the jewelry Uncle Xu mentioned that had been sent for maintenance.

Something big?

Bao Yiming added mischievously, “Big Dad told me to come keep you company, you know.”

Wen Cishu tweaked his chin. “Did he ask you to tell me stories again?”

“Nope.” Bao Yiming grinned. “Does Little Dad want to hear one?”

Faced with his son’s eager face, Wen Cishu hesitated.

“Ohhh!!!”

Bao Yiming remembered the excited expression on his little dad’s face earlier—only to see disappointment flicker across it when he realized it was just him.

With a pout, he accused, “Little Dad doesn’t want to hear my stories or have me around, does he? You only want Big Dad to come—”

Wen Cishu raised a hand to muffle him playfully. “Are you a chatterbox? Such a chatterbox.”

“Hehe~” Bao Yiming kicked his legs happily. “I’m not a parrot—I’m a magic unicorn who can read minds. I can see what Little Dad’s thinking!”

Aunt Zhong stepped out and, seeing the father and son chatting and laughing, said gently, "You should get some rest early."

Wen Cishu silently grumbled to himself: *Bao Tingyuan, you’ve got three minutes. If you don’t show up by then, I’ll...*

He glanced at the little monkey—*then it’s unicorn story time.*

Wen Cishu took his son’s wrist and playfully shook it, letting their palms clap together. "Come on, let’s count to three minutes, and when we’re done, it’s bedtime."

"Okay~" Bao Yiming raised his hand high and gently brought it down onto his little dad’s soft palm, clapping three times quickly while whispering, "Three, two, one—bedtime!"

"..." Wen Cishu replied, "No, we start from sixty, you silly goose."

Bao Yiming turned to Aunt Zhong instead. "Grandma Zhong, did you hear that? My little dad doesn’t want to sleep. He’s dragging out the countdown on purpose."

Wen Cishu leaned back against the sofa, silently vowing: *This kid’s sharp, so why can’t he remember his vocab? He must not be studying hard enough! I’ll make sure to supervise him later—daily drills!*

-

Behind the screen.

Bao Tingyuan listened to the laughter of the father and son nearby, swiftly opened a drawer, took out a pill, and swallowed it with water.

Then, he tucked the medicine bottle further back in the drawer before heading into the lit-up room.

"Yi Ming?"

A low voice rumbled from behind the screen, accompanied by footsteps.

Wen Cishu stayed still, just squinting to watch on the sly.

Bao Yiming turned his head. "Big Dad, you’re finally here! My little dad was so disappointed, so sad, so heartb—"

This time, Wen Cishu really did cover his mouth, firmly denying, "No, I wasn’t!"

Bao Yiming dodged his little dad and leaned over the back of the sofa, addressing his approaching big dad. "Big Dad, little dad doesn’t even want to sleep—Ow!" His backside got a light whack.

He covered his bottom with both hands, turned around, and saw his little dad had smacked him with a magnifying glass. Pouting, he whined, "Hmph! Big Dad whacks me with a saucepan, and now little dad hits me with a magnifying glass."

He blinked up with puppy-dog eyes.

Just as Wen Cishu was about to speak, the man behind the sofa bent down near him. "Hmm?"

Bao Tingyuan scooped him up and said to his wide-eyed son, "Yi Ming, we’re bunking in my room tonight. Do you want to go back to your tent or sleep in your little dad’s bed?"

Hearing him deadpan something like that, Wen Cishu felt inexplicably embarrassed and could only pretend to vanish, silently turning his head toward the screen.

Bao Yiming, of course, didn’t notice. Instead, upon hearing his big dad’s words, he popped up from the sofa.

Now eye-level with his big dad, he looked down at both fathers and asked excitedly, "Really? I get to sleep alone in little dad’s big bed?"

"Mm." Bao Tingyuan motioned for him to sit back down. "Don’t trip. We’re going now."

He turned and carried Wen Cishu toward the screen.

Bao Yiming bounced excitedly on the sofa but was immediately stopped by a sharp glance from his big dad.

He put on an obedient expression and waited until his big dad closed the screen before rushing to his little dad’s bed, climbing onto the footrest, flinging his arms out like an Olympic diver, and flopping onto the mattress—wriggling under the covers, howling—Woo-hoo!

Hmm?

But without little dad there, wouldn’t it be the same as sleeping by myself?

Bo Yiming suddenly realized something and glared at the screen with a huff.

Tch!

-

On the other side of the screen.

The room, lit only by a wall lamp, was dim.

Wen Cishu sat leaning against an unfamiliar bed. The slanted light fell on Bo Tingyuan, making him seem towering and imposing.

He kept his eyes lowered, like a student called into the principal’s office, hands clasped in front of him, watching with a sidelong glance as he climbed onto the bed from the other side.

"Not used to it?"

Bo Tingyuan got onto the bed and pulled Wen Cishu into his lap, making him straddle him so they faced each other directly.

Caught off guard, Wen Cishu went limp in his hold. "N-no... why would I be? Isn’t the bedding the same?"

The light slanted down from above, casting delicate shadows from his long lashes across his fair, smooth face—the epitome of classical, cool elegance.

The slightest flutter of his eyelids was like wind through bamboo, the shadows trembling faintly.

Wen Cishu’s nose twitched slightly as he caught the lingering sandalwood scent from his bath.

It suddenly dawned on him that Bo Tingyuan’s pajamas were rather thin, and with them pressed so close, the fabric might as well not have been there.

In the silence, Wen Cishu squirmed slightly as the temperature around them seemed to rise.

Spotting the poetry book by the pillow out of the corner of his eye, he asked slowly, "Did you plan to read me poetry tonight?"

Bo Tingyuan tracked his wandering eyes, which seemed to sweep repeatedly over his face.

He lifted Wen Cishu’s hand to touch his glasses.

The message was obvious. When Wen Cishu’s fingers brushed the metal frames, they curled slightly as he teased, "You... you want to..."

Catching himself mid-sentence, he immediately pressed his lips together.

"Hmm?"

Bo Tingyuan leisurely kissed his wrist, sliding the white jade bracelet—warmed by his skin—downward before asking with ease, "What do I want?"

Wen Cishu lowered his gaze to the bracelet—he had put it on right after his bath today.

"Nothing..."

He noticed Bo Tingyuan’s lips grazing his palm in a way that was casual yet intimate.

He shifted his leg slightly. "Maybe we should sleep? Don’t you have work early tomorrow?"

Yet even as he spoke, the man holding him continued kissing his fingers, his green eyes fixed on him with a teasing glint.

Wen Cishu felt a spark ignite within him, curling his fingers around Bo Tingyuan’s hand as he challenged playfully, "Sleep or not?"

"With my glasses on?"

Bo Tingyuan raised an eyebrow, then kissed the ring on Wen Cishu’s finger.

In that instant, Wen Cishu’s gaze locked onto his lips as if compelled, unable to look away. Even as Bo Tingyuan removed his glasses, he still couldn’t look away.

Bao Tingyuan took the glasses from his hand and placed them on the nightstand, then pushed aside Wen Cishu's left hand only to guide it back against his own cheek.

Wen Cishu was baffled, momentarily frozen, before his hand was slowly guided downward by Bao Tingyuan—until his palm slid past the jaw and settled over the side of his neck, his thumb resting on the pronounced Adam's apple.

"..."

At the same time, Bao Tingyuan tilted his chin up slightly, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes that drank in his innocent yet alluring expression.

Wen Cishu's heartbeat spiked abruptly, his mind nearly short-circuiting.

What is this man doing? Ah!

"You..." He barely suppressed a shuddering breath. "I..."

Bao Tingyuan's palm, resting on the small of his back, began sliding slowly up the tempting curve of his waist, pressing firmly enough that even through the thin fabric of his sleepwear, he could feel the rise and fall of Wen Cishu's breathing—slowing, then trembling under his touch.

Between them, a tide of desire seemed to surge.

Wen Cishu, acutely aware of the hand on his back, instinctively arched slightly before collapsing back weakly into place.

Only when that broad, warm palm pressed against the space behind his heart did he realize Bao Tingyuan was tracking his racing heartbeat. So what?

Bao Tingyuan gave him no time to think before his lips claimed Wen's.

Far from a fleeting brush of lips, this was a kiss that left Wen Cishu drowning in the certainty of his hunger.

As his lips parted, Wen Cishu's body seemed to already understand the embrace—shifting subtly, fitting perfectly into the curve of Bao Tingyuan's arms as if their bodies were forged to fit together.

Time lost meaning. When Bao Tingyuan lost himself in the deepening kiss, his palm suddenly registered the quickening rhythm of Wen Cishu's heart.

In that instant, a flash of predatory alertness passed through his deep green eyes—like a beast sensing danger amid indulgence.

Slowly, Bao Tingyuan loosened his unconsciously tight grip, rubbing soothing circles across Wen Cishu's back to steady his racing pulse, even as his own mind fought a losing battle against the flood of unchecked desire.

—Of course, the pill was doing its work too.