Chapter 60

Chapter 60

"Which hairpin would you prefer, sir?"

The stylist held a tray displaying various gold and jade hairpins.

In the makeup mirror, Wen Cishu wore an elegant, understated Chinese-style peach-white robe with dual-layered fabric, its inner lining a refined dark green. He selected a dark green carved jade hairpin.

In the afternoon, a professional styling team and photographer arrived at the house.

Wen Cishu learned that they had been specially arranged to document his birthday today.

With his parents and elders present, Wen Cishu thought it would be nice to take a few generational family portraits, so he put careful thought into his outfit and styling.

When Yi Ming bounded in, he almost didn’t recognize Little Dad.

Wen Cishu’s hair was long and thick, usually left loose or tied into a loose bun at the nape of his neck.

Today it was curled for the occasion, secured at the back of his head with a dark jade hairpin. The cascading curls framing his forehead and temples accentuated his ethereal beauty.

In the makeup mirror, Wen Cishu blinked and noticed the little monkey approaching with an oddly exaggerated, wobbly walk. "Yi Ming, don’t you like Daddy’s new look?"

"Of course not!" Yi Ming launched himself at Little Dad, and as he was caught in an embrace, he couldn’t resist murmuring softly, "Mommy~~"

The stylist raised an eyebrow but kept a neutral expression.

Wen Cishu chuckled and mussed his hair. "Alright, let’s go see what surprise Big Dad has prepared for me."

"Oh!" Yi Ming suddenly looked up. "Little Dad, could you cover your eyes? I’ll lead you there."

"Sure."

Wen Cishu closed his eyes. "Like this?"

"No." Yi Ming straightened up and looked around for something suitable.

The stylist produced a dark green silk ribbon that matched the outfit. "Will this work?"

"Great!" Yi Ming took it, felt the fabric to ensure it was smooth and soft, then stood on his tiptoes to tie it over his little dad’s eyes.

Wen Cishu could feel it was the same material as his robe.

As the ribbon slipped, he pressed a hand to the corner of his eye. "That’s too loose."

"Oh." Yi Ming was afraid to pull it tighter, worried about making his little dad uncomfortable or ruining the beautiful hairstyle. "How about now?"

Wen Cishu’s lips curved as he took hold of the ribbon. "Let me do it."

He lowered his head slightly, looped the ribbon around his bun, and quickly tied it into a bow, giving his head a shake to make sure it wouldn’t fall. "Done."

He waved a hand in front of his face. "Yi Ming, Daddy really can’t see anything now. You’ll have to guide me carefully, or I might trip."

Tripping on his birthday, in his own home—now that would be embarrassing.

Wen Cishu heard no response from the little monkey. "Yi Ming?"

The room suddenly seemed empty, as if he were the only one left. He could no longer sense anyone’s presence.

"Hmm?"

After all, it was his own home, so Wen Cishu naturally didn’t feel afraid. He simply assumed the little rascal was messing with him and deliberately reached forward to grab, "Little dummy?"

His fingers suddenly landed in a broad, warm palm—one he knew all too well.

Wen Cishu froze for a moment before raising his other hand to pull at the blindfold, only for it to be swiftly caught as well.

He breathed out, "Bao Tingyuan?"

With his vision gone, his hearing and sense of smell became hypersensitive.

Every breath Wen Cishu took carried the distinctive musk of Bao Tingyuan in the air.

He sensed the other man drawing closer step by step and slowly lifted his face.

His dark hair slipped aside, revealing the snowy pale profile in full—like the moon emerging from behind clouds, heart-stoppingly beautiful.

He knew everyone in the room must have been cleared out by Bao Tingyuan.

Including the little monkey.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, a finger brushed against his earlobe, skating along his jawline inch by inch.

When the finger paused at the very tip of his chin, his breath caught, lips parting slightly.

The finger slid upward, the back of it pressing against his dewy, full lips.

Unable to restrain himself, Wen Cishu exhaled warm breath against the finger, even instinctively pursing his lips as if drawing it in.

In the mirror, his pliant posture resembled a blooming white magnolia—trembling in the wind, delicate yet devastatingly beautiful.

"Papa?"

A youthful voice rang out, like the toll of a temple bell, rupturing the thick tension between the two.

Wen Cishu was the first to pull away, quickly ducking his head.

As his hair swayed, the two dark green ribbons tied at the back of his head fluttered gently, graceful and tantalizing.

Just as he was about to speak, he felt a pair of arms lifting him up.

He shifted his legs slightly. "Bao Tingyuan, if you don’t say anything, I’ll—"

He couldn’t think of a proper threat at the moment, only grumbling petulantly, "I just won’t talk to you anymore."

The words barely left his lips when warmth brushed against them.

It was just a fleeting touch, followed by Bao Tingyuan’s gravelly murmur by his ear.

"Hold me tight."

Wen Cishu thought to himself, *You tell me to hold you, and I just obey?*

Oh alright, just this once.

He slung his arms around Bao Tingyuan’s shoulders and leaned against him.

They stepped out together.

Bao Yiming, seeing his little daddy getting carried, thought it was sweet. "Okay, Papa, off we go."

Wen Cishu reached toward the source of the voice. "Sweetheart, take my hand."

Bo Yiming happily placed his hand in Wen Cishu's, grinning as his dad held it tightly.

The family of three walked down the corridor toward the quieter annex.

The entire photography team and stylists had never seen such a well-matched pair before—the harmony among the three of them looked like something out of a movie.

They finally arrived.

Hearing his parents' voices, Wen Cishu asked Bo Tingyuan to let him down. "Can I take this off now?"

"Let me," Bo Tingyuan said, lifting his hand to gently remove the ribbon.

Wen Cishu slowly opened his eyes, greeted by a satin screen shimmering with golden light under the sun.

Velvet-textured red roses formed a crescent shape, swaying with fragrance in the warm afternoon breeze.

He glanced at Bo Tingyuan in pleasant surprise before walking forward, going around the screen to reveal a courtyard that was a veritable sea of red roses.

The roses seemed to grow naturally from the land, their vibrant vitality climbing the walls and railings—from afar, it looked as if the entire space was draped in what looked like rose silk.

Understated yet elegant lanterns dotted the scene like scattered stars.

At the center of the courtyard stood a meticulously arranged dining table and chairs, adorned with petals and fluttering ribbons—everything stately yet delicate.

At night, with the lanterns lit, the family celebrating a birthday together would make for a picture-perfect scene.

Bo Tingyuan chimed in perfectly, "Yi Ming designed this for you."

"Not at all," Bo Yiming showed no hint of taking credit. "The roses were Big Dad’s idea."

"Really?" Wen Cishu vaguely recalled that during holidays—perhaps Valentine’s Day—a bouquet of red roses would always appear in their room.

Looking closely today, they seemed to be the same kind.

Plump, luxuriant blooms, an intoxicating fragrance, and bursting with life.

Wen Cishu took Bo Tingyuan’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze, and whispered, "I love it. Thank you."

Then he turned to the little monkey, ruffling his hair. "Dad is really moved. Thank you, Yi Ming."

"Come on, let’s take a group photo!"

Li Yun beamed. "Since everyone’s here today, let’s take a few more. I’d love to put them in frames as mementos."

"Yes, yes," Wen Minghui nodded in agreement.

The couple watched the family of three with quiet joy, smiling as they joined for the photos.

The photographer had taken many family portraits, but this might have been the most effortless shoot yet.

It seemed even the heavens favored this special day, gifting it with flawless weather that bathed everything in gold.

After the family photos, Wen Cishu reached for Bo Tingyuan’s hand. "Let’s take a couple of photos alone, okay?"

He didn’t know what the future held—he just wanted to preserve this perfect, harmonious moment.

Bo Tingyuan lowered his gaze, feeling Wen Cishu lace their fingers together, squeezing tight.

-

After the photos were taken, lanterns lit up in the courtyard, signaling the start of the evening’s small family banquet.

The elders chatted and laughed, occasionally teasing their young grandson.

Several bottles of fine wine were opened at the table, their rich aroma filling the room.

Bao Tingyuan didn’t drink, but he handled all the expected duties of a younger family member—pouring wine and tea for the elders without missing a beat.

Wen Cishu sat nearby, occasionally catching the glances Bao Tingyuan sent his way.

He sipped freshly squeezed juice, musing lazily: Bao Tingyuan’s presence was full of contradictions.

Despite his perfectly handsome features, Bao Tingyuan was certainly not perfect.

His eyebrows were too thick, weighing heavily over his eyes, giving him a sharp and brooding look.

His deep green eyes were profound and mysterious, like a bottomless whirlpool—so intense they could make your blood run cold.

Wen Cishu’s fingers absently traced circles along the rim of his glass as his mind wandered.

At the table, Wen Minghui discussed company affairs with Bao Tingyuan, who responded with deliberate calm.

But to Wen Cishu, these voices faded into the background, becoming distant, comforting noise.

In the middle of conversation, when Bao Tingyuan’s green gaze met his, Wen Cishu felt a sudden urge—

He wanted to be embraced by him, or held tightly in those strong arms.

But the elders and the child were there, and serious topics were still being discussed.

Wen Cishu silently lowered his gaze, feeling a little ridiculous about his sudden desire.

Bao Tingyuan noticed the shy look in his downcast eyes.

He raised a hand, adjusting his shirt collar.

The brand-new garment fit perfectly, of course.

Yet because it had been personally chosen by Wen Cishu, it felt like a second skin clinging to every inch of his upper body—especially now, stirring a deep, primal restlessness within him.

-

When Uncle Xu brought out the cake, Wen Cishu exclaimed like a kid, “Wow, time to blow out the candles!”

A single elegant candle stood on the cake.

Just as he was about to blow it out, the little monkey interrupted.

Bao Yiming was insistent about birthday rituals: “Little Dad, you have to make a wish first.”

Wen Cishu playfully pressed his palms together, his gaze slowly sweeping over the family gathered around.

Suddenly, he recalled a saying from his grandmother, now gone.

She had said that life is lived in reverse—each day lived meant one less remained.

Birthdays were especially so; each birthday comes just once, and as the years pass, the number of birthdays left only dwindles.

Wen Cishu closed his eyes and whispered a wish for “peace and togetherness.”

Bao Tingyuan watched quietly, the candlelight painting shimmering patterns across Wen Cishu’s face, pulling him back to that brief encounter years before, in a Parisian square.

Wen Cishu opened his eyes and blew out the candle, smiling.

The small, elegant round cake was just enough to be cut into six slices.

He made a point of serving the three elders first with both hands, then handed one to the little rascal, one to Bao Tingyuan, and kept the last for himself.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Bao Tingyuan gave off an oddly distant vibe.

Wen Cishu leaned his shoulder against him and, under the table, reached for his right hand and gently massaged it—just as he always comforted him. He whispered with soft concern, “You feeling okay?”

In the soft glow of moonlight and lanterns, Bao Tingyuan’s left hand on the other side clenched into a tight fist, veins standing out on his knuckles.

Yet his right hand remained gentle as he turned it to clasp Wen Cishu’s, his thumb stroking softly. “I’m fine. Let’s have some cake.”

But Wen Cishu didn’t believe him.

Because he had clearly seen the unreadable shadow in Bao Tingyuan’s gaze—an intensity that was almost visceral.

—Bao Tingyuan was clearly uncomfortable, but didn’t want to spoil the mood.

Thoughtfully, Wen Cishu leaned closer to his ear and murmured soothingly, “I’ll hold you soon. Take your time.”

At those words, instead of easing, the frown on Bao Tingyuan’s brow only deepened further.