Chapter 4

Remembering all the tragic endings described in the original novel, Wen Cishu actually felt an urge to ruffle his hair.

But after putting on his shoes, he still turned as if fleeing. "I'll go find Yiming."

"Wait."

The words seemed to carry a hint of command, making Wen Cishu stop despite himself.

He felt the man behind him stand and approach.

Then his bun shifted, and his black hair cascaded down like a waterfall.

Bo Tingyuan held the book pick, still warm from Wen Cishu's body. "Your hair was messy."

They were too close. His voice was already deep and sexy, and Wen Cishu kept feeling as though he were speaking right against his ear.

This time, he really was a little nervous as he headed out, blurting, "Mm, I'll go find Yiming."

Behind him came the man's reminder.

"Don't walk too fast."

Wen Cishu's heart was indeed pounding. He even wondered whether his heart condition was about to flare up.

Once inside the elevator, he looked at the ornate grille and couldn't help asking himself in bewilderment, "Haven't we been married for ten years? Why am I afraid of him?"

Chapter 4

The production team for "Little Ones Are Supermen."

Despite half a month of effort, the small team responsible for selecting an ordinary parent-and-child pair had failed to find guests who satisfied the producer.

Filming was imminent, and everyone was worried.

Who would have thought one ordinary parent-and-child pair would be harder to handle than the other celebrity guests?

At a team meeting, someone suggested going directly to major social media platforms and contacting parent-and-child accounts with relatively few followers and no on-camera experience.

The producer firmly rejected this, insisting on finding a parent-and-child pair who would make people's eyes light up.

A staff member couldn't resist complaining to his face, "These days, anyone who can 'make people's eyes light up' is already shining all over every platform. How could they still be waiting around now?"

Just then, the assistant sitting at the end of the table raised a hand. "Check the group chat. There's a new application."

Two parent-and-child photos popped up in the team's group chat.

A little boy with mixed-race features and a long-haired beauty with a distinctly classical Eastern charm.

There was some resemblance between their faces, but the beauty had even finer features, with elegant brows and phoenix eyes, as exquisite as a meticulously rendered traditional painting.

It was such a simple, front-facing photo, yet it conveyed an unhurried composure.

A scoff rang out in the meeting room.

"Heh, that's some pretty good AI image generation."

"Right? How many classical beauties and mixed-race kids did it feed on?"

The assistant said, "According to the information, they're father and son. The one with long hair is the child's father."

"Huh?" Someone examined the information further in confusion and discovered that this was indeed the case.

Then a heated discussion erupted over the father and son's heaven-defying looks.

"Hasn't this been Photoshopped?"

"No way. Even ID photos get Photoshopped these days. I don't believe it, anyway."

"They look more like an older sister and younger brother, don't they? Whose dad looks like that?"

As everyone argued back and forth, the assistant noticed that the producer was staring at the photos without a word.

"Boss?"

The producer was a little excited. "Hurry and verify their situation. If there aren't any problems, we'll go with them. Quick!"

"Okay!" The assistant hurried to contact the applicant.

Someone said, "I want to go have a look when they film the teaser. Do you have to drink dew and spring water every day to look that ethereal?"

"They haven't even opened any social media accounts, and they aren't celebrities. If they really come on the show, won't we have struck gold?"

That morning, in the garden of the Bo family mansion.

Dressed in white practice clothes, Wen Cishu was practicing tai chi under an instructor's guidance.

Auntie Zhong and Bo Yiming followed along beside him.

Although Wen Cishu was practicing the most basic twenty-four forms and his movements weren't quite right, the instructor kept nodding.

-Just standing there, Mr. Wen actually had something of an immortal's bearing.

Bo Yiming was especially well-behaved and considerate that day, getting up early to have breakfast and exercise with his little dad.

When Albert appeared, Wen Cishu was bending over with a warm towel in his hand, wiping sweat from Bo Yiming's temples with an exceptionally gentle expression.

He waited off to one side.

Only after the tai chi instructor left did he say, "Mr. Wen, the production team has confirmed that they'd like to invite you and the young master onto the show. They now need to schedule the promotional teaser shoot. They're pressed for time and hope to finalize it immediately."

"Really? That's great!" Bo Yiming happily wrapped his arms around his little dad.

Wen Cishu ruffled his hair, looking pleased as well.

Unable to stay still for a moment, Bo Yiming released his little dad and started bouncing around again. "Then let's film it today."

Albert smiled. The young master was completely different from both his fathers, unusually lively.

"It can't happen quite that quickly. You can start thinking about what everyday scenes you'd like to film, young master."

Wen Cishu said, "Then pick out your clothes too."

"Great!" Bo Yiming had a whole pile of handsome outfits he wanted to wear on camera. He dashed out of the garden.

Wen Cishu took the warm towel the housekeeper handed him and leisurely wiped his hands.

His fingers were like pale jade scallion shoots, their joints tinged pink, perhaps because he had just exercised.

Alone with Mr. Wen, Albert felt inferior, as though he himself had become impossibly coarse.

"Mr. Wen, the production team also said there would be a fee."

"Really?" Wen Cishu smiled as he walked out. "Then this will be my first time earning money."

Albert was slightly surprised when he first heard this.

Then, looking at his slender, frail figure, he immediately understood.

-Given Mr. Wen's health, his parents probably wouldn't have let him go out; after their marriage, Mr. Bo couldn't possibly have let him work either.

Albert then outlined the arrangements and explained that he would act as Wen Cishu's assistant, handling communication with the production team.

Wen Cishu had no objections.

Although he didn't fully understand Bo Tingyuan, he knew the man was cautious and thorough in his dealings and would arrange everything properly. There was no need for undue suspicion or interference.

As Albert left, he thought that Mr. Wen was very different from before. Even his personality had shed its former sickly gloom, becoming gentle and cheerful.

That evening.

Bo Tingyuan returned home from the office. He took off his black suit jacket and handed it to Uncle Xu, then took a warm white towel to wipe his hands.

"How was my husband today?"

Uncle Xu faithfully reported on Mr. Wen's day, unable to help smiling as he said, "Mr. Wen had a good appetite at lunch and drank an extra half bowl of soup."

Ever since Mr. Wen's condition had improved, the entire household had been delighted.

Never mind half a bowl of soup-Uncle Xu practically wanted to count whether Mr. Wen had eaten two extra grains of rice.

Bo Tingyuan glanced at the vast, silent living room and asked, "Is he in his room?"

Uncle Xu said, "He showered after dinner and went to help the young master choose clothes."

"They're still choosing clothes this late?"

Bo Tingyuan turned his face, his dark green eyes behind his lenses looking toward his son's bedroom.

The hot, damp towel moistened the skin between his fingers, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He set down the towel and headed for the stairs. "I'll take a look."

Seeing him leave, Uncle Xu asked, "Eldest young master, aren't you having a late-night snack today?"

"No."

Usually, if Bo Tingyuan came home late, he would have a bowl of soup or some snacks, so the kitchen always kept something ready.

Watching that tall, straight figure ascend the stairs, Uncle Xu wondered: Was the eldest young master displeased again just now?

Bo Yiming's dressing room.

Wen Cishu lounged on the sofa with a soft cushion in his arms, watching his son change clothes and walk out like a model.

Only a meter and a half tall, yet he still wanted to play male model. If he hadn't been handsome, he really would have looked like a monkey preening and posing.

"Little Dad, what do you think about filming me riding a horse?"

"Or rock climbing?"

"How about skiing? Mm, but we can only go to an indoor ski slope right now."

A new idea every three minutes.

When the little fellow threw himself down beside him, Wen Cishu rubbed his prickly short hair.

"Take your time deciding on a place. I don't have any objections. But I can't ski with you, or go rock climbing or horseback riding with you. I can only watch from the side. You won't be upset, will you?"

Bo Yiming bent his knees and leaned into his little dad's arms, nuzzling his soft velvet pajamas as he shook his head. "Of course not."

Wen Cishu stroked the little whorl on his crown. "Once I get paid, how about I give you a present? What would you like?"

Bo Yiming already knew that his little dad had never earned money before, making this payment especially meaningful. "Then I'll have to think carefully."

Wen Cishu sighed softly. "I'll have to think carefully too. I still need to get presents for my parents and my older brother."

Bo Yiming asked, "Grandma and Grandpa don't know we're going on the show, do they?" Seeing his little dad smile and nod, he asked with an exaggerated expression, "Will they get a shock when the time comes?"

"Probably." Wen Cishu held his son, smiling with great delight. After a yawn, he continued, "I hope they won't be too surprised."

There was a playful, mischievous side to his nature too, and it seemed to have been awakened.

At certain moments, he also hoped he could become good friends with his son, slowly guiding some of his ideas so he wouldn't take wrong turns in the future.

"What are you talking about?"

At Bo Tingyuan's intensely imposing voice, the father and son on the sofa looked over at the same time.

Bo Yiming was half-kneeling on the carpet, his head tilted against his little dad's chest. He said happily, "Big Dad, Little Dad's thinking about buying presents with his payment from the show."

Wen Cishu likewise raised his eyes to look at him.

Again, a black shirt and black trousers, paired with a black tie with gray stripes.

His shirt was buttoned tightly all the way to the collar, as though he were a man cast from dark clouds, gloomy and oppressive.