Chapter 30

[Then where does Big Daddy sleep? [Let me see.jpg]]

[Mingzai: under the bed [Filial.jpg]]

Bo Yiming grinned and ruffled his little brother's hair. "Xingxing, let me tell you a story. But it's in French... hmm, let me think about how to tell it in Chinese."

He put an arm around Xingxing. "It's a really fun story about a unicorn exploring a forest."

Xingxing nodded. "Big brother, I want to hear it in French."

"Sure!" Bo Yiming was happy to speak French, since he wouldn't have to translate it into Chinese in his head first. He began telling the story in earnest.

Hearing a French fairy tale for the first time, Xingxing looked utterly adoring.

[As a French major, that pronunciation dealt me a critical hit.]

[Mingzai, you're still over here entertaining your little brother? Your base is being stolen!]

In Wen Cishu's room.

Not long after Bo Yiming left, a tiny little visitor knocked on the door.

Dressed in little penguin pajamas, Xiao Qi stretched out his short little black arms as soon as he saw Wen Cishu.

"Little Uncle~ Hug~"

Wen Cishu bent down and picked up the sweet little toddler, then glanced outside.

Across the hall, Zhou Xu waved. "Sorry for the trouble, Yiming's dad!"

He gave an exaggerated bow and slipped into his room.

Wen Cishu smiled and looked down at the adorable little penguin.

Xiao Qi blinked his big eyes, deliberately craning his neck and puffing out one chubby little cheek. "Little Uncle~"

Wen Cishu quickly lowered his head to nuzzle him, saying gently, "Xiao Qi's cheeks are so soft. Let me nuzzle you again~"

Xiao Qi giggled at his teasing, tucking his little hands and feet into his little uncle's arms, doing his best to play the soft, adorable little ball.

[Aww~ Xiao Qi is so soft~ Kisses from Auntie.]

[Mingzai!!! Your mommy belongs to Xiao Qi now!]

Wen Cishu carried Xiao Qi over and set him on the bed, slipping the watch he had just picked up back under the pillow on the other side.

He reached out quite naturally to put an arm around the sweet, docile little toddler, only to fall into a sudden daze.

Years ago, he had held a two- or three-year-old little monkey just like this.

But later, as his health steadily deteriorated, he stopped getting close to children, sinking helplessly into illness and pain.

Holding the little darling, he could imagine that, if he hadn't unexpectedly awakened, he would have kept suffering until he died of a heart attack.

Xiao Qi leaned against his uncle, whispering in his babyish voice and even saying he wanted to invite his uncle over to his house.

Wen Cishu rubbed Xiao Qi's soft little hand as it rested in his palm, its little fingers curled up just like a kitten's paw.

As they were talking, the door was pushed open.

Bo Yiming strode inside. "Xiao Qi!!!!!"

"Wah~ Waaah~" Xiao Qi excitedly burrowed under his little uncle's blanket, forming a round little mound.

Wen Cishu held Xiao Qi. "Yiming, don't frighten your little brother."

A muffled little voice came from beneath the blanket. "Xiao Qi isn't frightened~"

Bo Yiming flung himself onto the bed and hugged the little bundle. "Little Dad, Xiao Qi is really brave!"

Wen Cishu said, "Xiao Qi was just talking about you catching ducks with Uncle Zhou at the farm last time."

Sitting in his big brother's arms, Xiao Qi blinked his sparkling eyes. "Xiao Qi likes the farm. Do you like it, big brother?"

"I really like it too." Bo Yiming hoisted the little toddler high with all his strength, then suddenly thought of something. "How about we make the farm ours? Then we can still go there to play."

"Yes, yes~"

Xiao Qi clapped his little hands. "But how do we make it ours?"

Bo Yiming turned to look at his little dad. "Little Dad, how much does a farm cost?"

"Well..." Wen Cishu was stumped.

He really had no idea. "Once we finish tomorrow, I'll go ask the show's staff."

"Okay!"

[? Wait, you're seriously discussing buying a farm?]

[This morning, Mingzai's little dad didn't object to a cup of tea costing 150, either. Thank goodness Zhu Wei was there.]

[Could Mingzai really be from that Bo family the netizens dug up? Do you need a big sister, Mingzai? (I speak French~)]

In the hotel suite, Auntie Zhong knocked and entered.

A tall figure was pacing back and forth.

Not far from him stood the glass windows, their curtains still open.

Each black window was like a cage, imprisoning the man pacing to and fro.

Even the black shirt he always wore was almost an extension of the night outside, tightly shackling and binding his body and soul.

The moment Auntie Zhong entered, she sensed a peculiar agitation hanging in the air.

Thinking something urgent had happened, she couldn't help asking, "Eldest Young Master?"

Bo Tingyuan stopped when she came in, quickly glancing at the box in her hands. "Auntie Zhong, what is it?"

Only after hearing his usual tone did Auntie Zhong approach and place the little box on the coffee table.

"Second Young Master asked me yesterday to bring this over tonight. He said you should get some rest early and not stay up late."

Bo Tingyuan looked at the person on the livestream screen and nodded. "All right. Thank you."

Auntie Zhong said nothing more and turned to leave.

Bo Tingyuan sat down and carefully opened the box.

Two small madeleines lay adorably overlapping, giving off a faint, fresh lemon fragrance.

Inside the box was a folded card bearing a few lines handwritten by Wen Cishu.

[I baked four madeleines in total and already ate two. These two are for your late-night dessert. Get some proper rest after you eat them. (Cishu)]

The fountain-pen handwriting was particularly strong, its strokes flowing, with a measure of character beneath their elegance.

Bo Tingyuan read those few lines over and over, took a small cake from the box, and bit into it, tasting the lemon cream cheese filling.

The sweet-tart fruit fragrance balanced the madeleine's cloying sweetness, just as this dessert had arrived in time to ease Bo Tingyuan's nighttime agitation.

Before Auntie Zhong came in, he had already been pacing for half an hour.

Of course Bo Tingyuan should have gone to bed early. That was his promise to him.

But his will couldn't fully control his body.

And so, as night fell, he was like a resilient rubber band, stretched longer with every passing second until he was pulled so taut he was on the verge of snapping.

The lemon madeleines and the card were a gentle embrace Wen Cishu had sent just in time.

But this was far from enough.

Bo Tingyuan lowered his eyes, his thick, sharply defined lashes shielding his deep green eyes.

He regarded the soft madeleine with an almost extreme degree of caution.

Perhaps he should save this madeleine.

Then, at some particular moment, it could briefly ease both his physical and psychological torment, like medicine.

Just then, the phone resting on the collection of Rene Char's poetry lit up.

As Bo Tingyuan picked up his phone, he instinctively raised his eyes, his hawk-sharp green gaze turning toward the livestream screen.

Bo Yiming had just seen the adorable little toddler off, while Wen Cishu seemed to be hiding beneath the blanket, ready to sleep.

The message came from his son's watch.

[Are you asleep yet? (Cishu)]

Bo Tingyuan slowly let out a long breath, his restless emotions soothed as though a hand had gently stroked over them.

[Still awake.]

[You haven't lain down yet, have you? Then hurry and get into bed. I'm counting to three. (Cishu)]

Wen Cishu's soft voice came from the large screen. "One, two, three..."

Bo Yiming asked in confusion, "Little Dad, are you talking in your sleep?"

He leaned over his little dad's shoulder, carefully peering beneath the blanket.

Wen Cishu hid the little watch and smiled as he pinched his cheek. "No, I'm thinking about something."

Sitting alone on the sofa, Bo Tingyuan watched the affectionate father and son, his overstretched nerves easing a little.

The instant Wen Cishu spoke, it was as if he had pulled him into the room with the two of them, his voice gentle and intimate, as though he were speaking right beside his ear.

Bo Tingyuan quickly took out his medicine bottle, swallowed his medication with water, then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up.

As he headed to bed, he bent down and picked up the poetry collection from the coffee table.

On the show.

Wen Cishu received a reply.

[Evil Dragon Knight Big Daddy Who Stole the Little Shell Cakes (〃＞皿＜)]: [I'm in bed.]

Just looking at that long nickname and emoticon, then thinking of Bo Tingyuan's exceedingly serious, cold face, Wen Cishu couldn't help wanting to laugh.

[Do you have a photo? Let me verify it. (Cishu)]

He wasn't quite sure whether Bo Tingyuan would be willing to send him a photo.

Selfies or casual snapshots of everyday life seemed difficult to associate with the serious, rigid Bo Tingyuan.

Half a minute later.

A photo appeared on the tiny watch screen.

The camera was aimed at a book, with Bo Tingyuan's fingers below it and a soft blanket behind it.

Wen Cishu zoomed in on the details of the photo. When he made out the French verse on the page, he couldn't help freezing for a moment.

It was like his first taste of the lemon cream cheese filling in a madeleine, that rich sweet-tart flavor spreading through his mouth, layer upon layer of intense pleasure that intoxicated him.

After ending the conversation, Wen Cishu poked his head out and rested it on the pillow.

In this unfamiliar room, he closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting as he silently said to himself:

Evil Dragon Knight Big Daddy Who Stole the Little Shell Cakes, see you tomorrow~

Chapter 30

Late at night.

On Little Sweet Potato.

Among the trending topics related to "Little Ones Are Supermen," a tourist photo appeared in the comments under the "Mingzai and his dad" tag.

momo: [Girls, the algorithm showed me this! Am I seeing things? Isn't that guy in the distance in this tourist photo the handsome guy with the black mask and the bite guard?]

The photo had been taken by a tourist holding a selfie stick.

The netizen who posted it had blurred the tourist's face and circled the group behind him in red.

The group was walking toward the hotel entrance, and the tallest of them was the man in glasses and a mask, his face shown in profile.

Behind him, several people who looked like assistants were pushing three enormous suitcases.