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The sudden closeness made Wen Cishu hold his breath, leaving him barely able to make out even those words.

His lips seemed to feel every ridge of the slightly rough fingerprints on Bo Tingyuan's fingertip as it gently wiped them, or perhaps... stroked them.

As their eyes met, Wen Cishu suddenly felt an urgent desire to let him know what dessert he was baking.

He set down his glass, reached for his hand, and carefully wrote in his broad, warm palm, saying, "This is what I'm baking."

Bo Tingyuan opened his hand, letting his slender fingertip brush across it.

Yet beneath his thick brows, his eyes remained fixed on the man with his gaze lowered.

Wen Cishu had no idea that his upward-sweeping brows and phoenix eyes were at their most alluring, most captivating angle.

When he finished writing, he withdrew his finger, raised his eyes, and blinked as he asked with a smile, "Do you need me to write it again?"

No sooner had he spoken than the man before him moved closer still, catching his raised hand in the process.

The smile on Wen Cishu's face slowly froze.

His palm was pushed open, Bo Tingyuan's fingers pressing firmly between his own as his long legs moved snugly against him.

They stood face-to-face, almost completely flush against each other below the waist.

The backs of Wen Cishu's thighs pressed against the hard edge of the island. The sudden approach made his gaze wander for a moment before he had no choice but to focus and meet his eyes.

Bo Tingyuan watched him quietly. Rather than answer his question, he asked in French, [You remember all of it?]

Meeting those dark green eyes, which looked sharp and intense with their excessive focus, Wen Cishu said slowly, "We ate them together at our wedding. Of course I remember."

As he finished speaking, Wen Cishu saw him lower his head and draw closer, until the tips of their noses seemed about to touch and their breaths mingled in an instant.

Bo Tingyuan's thick, untamed brows and eyes as intensely green as leafy shade all gave Wen Cishu a sudden sense of encroachment.

At that moment, his mouth parched, Wen Cishu wanted to pick up his glass and gulp down three full glasses of water.

Bo Tingyuan cupped the side of his face, his thumb resting just so on his soft, full earlobe, fitting as perfectly as though the Creator had made them expressly for each other.

[What else do you remember?]

With their breaths mingling intimately, surrounded by his distinctly personal scent, Wen Cishu recalled a great many ill-timed images.

-not from their wedding day, but from the hotel on their honeymoon.

Reason told him he should not be thinking about those things at a time like this.

He could only squeeze his eyes shut in restraint, his trembling lashes betraying a little of his fluster.

A ding sounded.

Wen Cishu abruptly snapped out of it and pushed him hard.

"They're done."

He sidestepped the man's imposing body and muttered, "It's my first time baking them. I don't know how they turned out."

He picked up the oven mitts beside him and went to take out the baking tray.

At the same time, a large "gecko" clinging to the outside of the floor-to-ceiling window appeared in the corner of Bo Tingyuan's vision.

At the window directly opposite the island, Bo Yiming was frantically waving both his arms and legs.

When he saw Big Dad turn toward him, he jumped up in delight, shouting, "Big Dad! Hurry and open the door for me!"

Every door and window in the house was well soundproofed.

Bo Yiming's calls did not reach inside; at least, Wen Cishu, who was busy with the tray, heard nothing at all.

Bo Tingyuan swiftly moved the rack on the island to the counter opposite. "Put it here."

Wen Cishu set the baking tray on it accordingly.

That left both of them with their backs to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Bo Yiming, who could now see only his two dads' backs: ?

That wasn't right, was it?

Hadn't Big Dad seen him?

On the baking tray.

Plump, fluffy golden madeleines gave off the rich aroma of butter, mingled with a hint of lemon's fresh tartness and sweetness.

Wen Cishu carefully turned over a madeleine with a small fork.

The pattern on its underside was especially distinct, its edges lightly browned, just like an adorable little seashell.

As the person who had made them himself, he expressed his disbelief. "They turned out this well?"

Bo Tingyuan reached over and took the madeleine from the fork-the first one.

Wen Cishu hurriedly caught his wrist and said childishly, "I made these myself. Of course I get to eat the first one."

Bo Tingyuan brought the little madeleine to his lips.

Still uncertain, Wen Cishu sniffed it first, then bit off the tiniest edge. Once it melted on his tongue and he was sure nothing tasted strange, he took another small bite.

As he savored it, he saw Bo Tingyuan put the remaining half into his mouth.

Wen Cishu looked at him, and a scene buried deep in his memory, like a black-and-white picture, gradually came to life.

That day, at their wedding.

Wen Cishu had pointed at the madeleines in several different flavors and quietly asked Bo Tingyuan which tasted best.

Bo Tingyuan had picked one up and held it to his mouth.

Just like today, he had bitten off a small half, and Bo Tingyuan had eaten the rest.

From that moment on, the flavor that "tasted best" had taken deep root in Wen Cishu's heart.

-Lemon madeleines.

So he remembered, and Bo Tingyuan remembered too.

His hand still resting on Bo Tingyuan's wrist, Wen Cishu turned his face and gazed into those perpetually cool, intense green eyes. In a rare use of French, he asked, [Do you still like this flavor now?]

He rarely spoke French under ordinary circumstances.

Just as Bo Tingyuan's Chinese had a subtle stiffness to it, his French was not perfect either.

Especially in front of this half-Chinese, half-French man, he felt as though he would be laid entirely bare, giving rise to an inexplicable sense of awkwardness and embarrassment.

As he waited for an answer, Wen Cishu's heart pounded with uncertainty, yet he refused to look away.

He saw so clearly the subtle ripples stirring in Bo Tingyuan's eyes, but the man did not answer him immediately.

Just as he was about to find the almost suffocating intimacy unbearable, the man before him suddenly drew close, wrapped both arms tightly around him, and scooped him up beneath his legs.

"Uh..."

Wen Cishu let out an involuntary sound of surprise. Lifted off the floor, he instinctively looped his arms around those broad shoulders, his legs bracketing Bo Tingyuan's narrow waist.

Although he was already quite used to Bo Tingyuan's sudden embraces, they had always been bridal carries. This was the first time he had been held upright, face-to-face.

Under his burning gaze, Wen Cishu swung his lower legs a little in embarrassment.

"Y-you still haven't answered me."

Bo Tingyuan looked into his gentle eyes. [I've never changed.]

Wen Cishu's gaze stilled, and he was somewhat moved.

He pressed his lips together, remembered the matter of his health, and said gently, "Then, if anything upsetting or... or bad happens to you, could you tell me?"

"Mm." Bo Tingyuan freed one hand to press him into his embrace and stroked his back.

When nothing more followed, Wen Cishu inwardly seethed:

We've gotten this sentimental, and all you give me is an "mm"?!

But when he realized that Bo Tingyuan was carrying him toward the front door like this, he startled.

"Little Dad?!"

The little monkey's urgent call came from outside the door.

The next second, Bo Tingyuan was already reaching for the door handle.

Wen Cishu simply tipped his head onto his shoulder and pretended to faint.

Bo Tingyuan opened the door and, looking at his furious younger son, unhurriedly told Uncle Xu, "Uncle Xu, find a suitable box, pack up the treats my husband made, and send them to my room."

Wen Cishu: ?

Bo Yiming jumped three feet into the air and was just about to protest at the top of his lungs.

"Shh," Bo Tingyuan cautioned him.

Thinking Little Dad really had suddenly fallen asleep, Bo Yiming did not dare make a fuss. He could only lower his voice and say aggrievedly, "I haven't even had one yet! I saw them-they're super-cute little seashells!"

Bo Tingyuan freed a hand and rubbed his son's head. "Have the pastry chef make them tomorrow. They can make as many as you want." He lifted his eyes toward Uncle Xu. "Do as I said."

Uncle Xu: "..."

Bo Yiming darted inside, grabbed one, and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering childishly, "I don't care! I'm having one!"

Afraid Bo Tingyuan would stop him, Wen Cishu lightly pressed the hand resting on the back of his neck. His lips almost touched his ear as he whispered, "Let Yiming have them. I'll just make another batch tomorrow especially for you to take to the office for afternoon tea."

He had never expected father and son to fight over a bite to eat.

Bo Tingyuan tilted his neck slightly, the side of his face almost brushing Wen Cishu's lips.

"Mm."

Realizing this was rather too intimate, Wen Cishu shifted awkwardly, only for Bo Tingyuan to tighten his hold immediately.

Just then, Bo Yiming's anguished cry rang out behind them.

In the kitchen, while eating his second madeleine, Bo Yiming suddenly realized something and stamped his feet in distress.

Uncle Xu asked, "Young master, what is it now? Haven't you gotten to eat them?"

Bo Yiming pointed a trembling little hand at the empty little baking mold.

Uncle Xu knew that its contents had already been eaten by the time they came in, leaving it empty.

He hurried to reassure him. "Although you didn't get to eat the very first madeleine your father made, young master, you can help yourself to the rest."

Bo Yiming broke down. "It's not just the first one! It was one Big Dad and Little Dad ate together!"

Uncle Xu: "..."

His handsome little mixed-race face steeped in misery, Bo Yiming held up a little seashell-shaped treat.

"While I, their adorable younger son, am eating sweet madeleines all alone."

Just then, his watch flashed.

Bo Yiming's eyes suddenly lit up as brightly as the watch screen. "Little Brother Xingxing!"

Uncle Xu: ...He was saved!

Bo Yiming poured out to Little Brother Xingxing the great tragedy of being "excluded by both dads" that evening.