Chapter 5: Chapter 5 The Sick Little Gas Can.

Chapter 5: The Sick Little Chubster.

Bundled in his arms and showered with kisses, Lu Zhishi's face flushed crimson.

Listening to their conversation, Lu Zhishi stretched out his tiny hands to hold the milk bottle, snuggling into Lu Zhiyu's embrace, resting his head against his chest, and yawning with closed eyes.

The voices around them softened. Before drifting off to sleep, Lu Zhishi heard Lu Tingan softly ask Lu Zhiyu if he wanted to sleep with his dads that night.

He didn't quite catch Lu Zhiyu's reply. When he woke up in the morning, only he and Lu Tingan remained in the bed. With some effort, he twisted his head to survey the large bed.

Lu Zhiyu's small pillow was still there, suggesting they had indeed slept together.

He drew back his gaze and looked at Lu Tingan beside him.

Lu Tingan was still asleep, perhaps exhausted from recent work, weariness etched between his brows. He slept deeply, his eyelashes long, dark, and straight, fanning downwards.

Below, his nose bridge was high and straight, his lips thin, reddish, and a little dry—he needed water.

Lu Zhishi held his restless chubby hands in his arms, then couldn't resist gnawing on them, but his eyes never left Lu Tingan's face.

So handsome—with striking, well-defined eyebrows and bright eyes, red lips, white teeth, and an extraordinary aura. Would he grow up to be as good-looking as Lu Tingan?

The chubby little one stared with wide, clear eyes, biting his chubby hand and drooling, occasionally letting out soft, delighted giggles.

When Lu Tingan woke up, he saw the baby's smiling, crescent-shaped eyes. He lay quietly beside him, neither fussing nor making noise, perfectly well-behaved. Lu Tingan's heart instantly melted.

Cuddling the little one and rubbing his own forehead against the baby's head, Lu Tingan’s voice, hoarse and magnetic from just waking, was exceptionally gentle: "Little one, good baby."

The chubby little chubster slowly grinned, then suddenly raised his hands to cover his cheeks and rubbed his face. His chubby legs kicked, and he buried his head into Lu Tingan’s chest, nuzzling shyly.

Lu Tingan was taken aback, rubbing the round little head in front of him, his voice laced with laughter: "Such a tiny chubby baby, and already knows how to be shy."

Lu Zhishi’s response was to clutch the front of Lu Tingan’s pajamas, rub his forehead against his chest, then lean into his embrace and stay still.

Sensing his attachment, Lu Tingan didn’t rush to get up. Gently holding the little one, he turned over, letting him lie on his chest, and covered his back with a large hand, patting him softly.

Lu Zhishi had initially intended to snuggle against Lu Tingan for just a little while, but under his gentle patting, he began to squint his eyes, unconsciously opening his mouth to yawn. The soft, white little bundle grew drowsy.

Lu Tingan lifted the little one and gently rocked him, watching his confused, wide eyes: "Let's have some milk first."

Resting on Lu Tingan’s shoulder, Lu Zhishi yawned again, still looking half-asleep.

It wasn’t until he was lying in his crib, holding his little milk bottle and having drunk half of it, that Lu Zhishi fully woke up, lazily letting Lu Tingan attend to him.

After changing his diaper, Lu Tingan checked the time, quickly washed up, and carried the child downstairs for breakfast.

Lu Zhishi finished a bottle of milk, released the nipple, lay in his crib, and let out a small burp.

Hearing the soft, milky sound, Lu Tingan smiled slightly, put down the script he was holding, picked up the child, let his chin rest on his shoulder, and gently patted his back.

His chubby little cheek pressed against Lu Tingan’s neck, the soft flesh on his face jiggling with each pat. Lu Zhishi lay there lazily, occasionally opening his mouth to blow bubbles, but not burping.

This worried Lu Tingan, who frowned and looked down at the innocent little baby.

Something wasn’t right. Lu Tingan held him and patted a while longer.

Song Qinian had clearly told him that the little one always burped a lot after milk, with one little milk burp after another.

Lu Tingan lowered his eyes and stared at Lu Zhishi for a long time, then felt the little one’s round, bulging belly.

"If you don’t burp soon, I’ll take you to see the old doctor." Previously, Song Qinian’s patting always made him burp, but now his patting didn’t. Lu Tingan suspected it was either his technique or that the little one was uncomfortable somewhere.

The chubby baby was born a month early, tiny and small, with a weak cry. He stayed in the incubator for over a month and was only brought home at two months old. Song Qinian and Lu Tingan were always very worried about this child and raised him with great care.

The little one was also very well-behaved, soft and tiny, bundled in swaddling clothes. When awake, he would open his big, dark eyes and look around, though he was a bit clingy, liking to stay close to his two dads. If he didn’t see them for a while, he would quietly and pitifully shed tears.

Mentioning the doctor made Lu Zhishi think of the strange uncle who smiled and praised him while giving him shots in the leg. Scared, he immediately worked up two milk burps to settle the matter: "Burp, ah-ah da—"

Lu Tingan was amused by his expression, kissed his cheek, and called Song Qinian to ask.

Song Qinian laughed when he heard: "Pat a bit harder, that kid can take it."

Lu Tingan was half-convinced. After hanging up the call, he tried patting again, and Lu Zhishi spit up some milk.

Dad, could you pat a little lighter? I’m not that tough…

Ten minutes later, Lu Tingan bundled himself and the child up tightly and went out, taking the little one who kept spitting up to see the traditional Chinese medicine doctor.

The inconspicuous traditional Chinese medicine clinic was located on a small street in the city center, filled with a faint scent of herbs. The people who came here for treatment were either wealthy or influential.

The old doctor stroked his goatee, held the little one’s chubby arm to check his pulse, adjusted his reading glasses, felt the round belly for a while, and said slowly: "There’s wind in the belly, abdominal chill and eating too fast. Fortunately, you came early, or he would be vomiting and feverish by afternoon…"

The old man spoke slowly. After listening, Lu Tingan unconsciously pursed his lips, frowned, and instinctively adjusted the little one’s hat.

"Recently, it’s the change of seasons, and your child is naturally weak. You should be more careful…"

The old doctor rambled on for a long time. Since the child was too young, he only prescribed a mild dose of medicine, enough for one time.

He also gave a bottle of homemade medicated oil for Lu Tingan to take home and massage the child’s belly: "Wring out a hot towel for a warm compress on the belly, and massage around the navel."

Thanking the old doctor, Lu Tingan drove home with the items, his frown never easing, looking preoccupied.

Lu Zhishi overheard and, sitting in his car seat, secretly patted his own belly.

He felt fine, not particularly uncomfortable, just a bit queasy.

Tilting his head to look out the car window, his chubby face wrinkled, and he sighed. It seemed the plan to go to his grandparents’ for dinner in the afternoon was ruined.

He was worried, but Lu Tingan was even more so.

Again and again, Lu Tingan wrung out the hot towel to apply to the child’s belly, his brow furrowed.

Lu Zhishi, however, squinted his eyes, gurgling softly, his chubby hands occasionally grabbing his belly, showing no sign of discomfort.

Looking up and seeing Lu Tingan’s eyes, Lu Zhishi reached out and grabbed his wrist, gently shaking it: "Ah-ya… It’s okay, it’s okay, everything’s fine."

Lu Tingan smiled, kissed his forehead: "Sickness, go away."

Rubbing the medicated oil to warm it, Lu Tingan massaged Lu Zhishi’s belly and did gas-relief exercises, handling it very carefully.

But Lu Zhishi was very shy, his moist eyes wide open as he looked at Lu Tingan, gurgling softly with his little milky voice, his soft bottom intermittently releasing gas.

The little one’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, startling Lu Tingan into thinking he had a fever. He quickly took his temperature, relieved to find no fever.

But he relaxed too soon.

Lu Zhishi frowned and finished the medicine, then, soothed by Lu Tingan’s gentle coaxing, leaned against his chest, listening to the steady, strong heartbeat, and fell into a drowsy sleep.

Before noon, he developed a low-grade fever, throwing up and had diarrhea. The medicine he was given was vomited up completely. In his sleep, he cried with his eyes closed, tears pattering, soaking the clothes on Lu Tingan's chest.

The surroundings were a bit chaotic, and Lu Zhishi couldn't clearly remember what happened. When he woke up, he found himself lying in Lu Tingan's arms, with an IV in his right hand.

His father held him, patting his chest gently over and over, while using his other hand to hold his hand with the IV as he held him.

Seeing him awake, the people around gathered, looking at him with concern.

Lu Zhishi looked up and saw several elderly people surrounding him—his paternal and maternal grandparents, along with Song Qinian and Lu Zhiyu.

He raised and moved the hand without the needle, saying, "Hiya..."

His flushed little face was full of smiles. With an IV in his hand and a fever patch on his forehead, he lay obediently in his father's arms, smiling at them. The elderly were heart aching for him.

They stayed by his side for a long time, their eyes filled with the same heartache.

Mother Lu recalled Lu Zhiyu from a few years ago and said to Mother Song, "Xiao Yu (meaning 'Little Yu') was like this back then too."

Mother Song sighed, ruffled Lu Zhiyu's hair, and touched Lu Zhishi's face: "They're all little ones who keep us on our toes." After this illness, it was truly heartbreaking—his little face was so pale.

Lu Tingan held him the whole time, repeatedly touching the child's face to check for fever.

Lu Zhishi was lethargic and drifted back to sleep. At some point, the IV seemed to be removed, and he drank a little milk. When he woke up, it was already dark.

Mother Lu and the others had left. Lu Zhishi opened his eyes—he was in his room.

He heard Lu Zhiyu speaking, his voice muffled: "Father, little brother is so fragile. He's sick."

Song Qinian comforted him: "Little brother will get better soon, don't worry."

Falling ill once caused so many people to worry, leaving Lu Zhishi a bit at a loss but also touched.

This was a scene he had never experienced before.

For several days in a row, all four grandparents came to see him every day, bringing many toys to lift his spirits.

Uncle Chi and Uncle Bai also came to visit, and Brother Xiao Chen gave him another big rabbit, ruffling his hair and telling him to get well soon.

Leaning against Lu Zhiyu's chest, Lu Zhishi frowned as he took small sips of medicine, his big beautiful eyes locked intently on Lu Tingan in front of him. He opened his mouth and called out, "Ah! Ah-da!"

Lu Tingan promptly gave him two mouthfuls, looking somewhat puzzled as he murmured, "What kid actually likes medicine..."

Lu Zhishi: "..."

Anxiously, he grabbed the small bowl and tried to pull it toward his mouth. He was so frustrated he nearly spoke actual words—this medicine is really bitter, please let me chug it, I beg you!

Unfortunately, Lu Tingan couldn't decipher his baby talk.

After finishing the medicine, Lu Zhishi completely wilted, leaning against Lu Zhiyu's chest and sticking his tongue out repeatedly.