“Can you still make anything now?” Zhuang Qiting lowered his voice.
The moment Li Yaru heard him, she reflexively covered her chest, her face burning scarlet, “Don’t you get any ideas…”
Zhuang Qiting glanced at her, chuckling, “What’s there to be shy about? I’ve drunk it plenty of times.”
Li Yaru glared at him, wishing she could bite off that sanctimonious mask of his.
All the best milk, instead of feeding their son, ended up in his stomach—claiming it was to help her, as if she needed his shameless ‘assistance’!
“You old thing… haven’t you been weaned yet!” Li Yaru ground her teeth.
“You’re the one who cried about being swollen, I was only helping you, baby.” Zhuang Qiting kissed her cheek, soothing his feisty wife.
That period had indeed left a lingering taste. Though his wife scolded him plenty, and not very gently, he got what he wanted, so he let her temper slide.
.
He was like a parched traveler in the desert, tasting rain for the first time—greedy for every drop.
All he could smell was her skin. Ever since her pregnancy, she’d worn less perfume; the natural fragrance, somewhere between girlish and womanly, mixed with the scent of milk, was surprisingly sensual.
Sometimes he sucked too hard, and she’d let out little whimpers, patting his shoulders.
He’d stolen from his son, but felt no shame in it. The experience was sublime—not just a certain kind of play, but more of a comfort to his soul.
He possessed every part of his wife; it left him more than satisfied, making his body and soul long to surrender at her feet.
Zhuang Qiting’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to contain the desire churning in his chest.
Seeing Zhuang Qiting’s dark and brooding expression, Li Yaru cursed him inwardly for being insatiable and quickly made her escape, “I’m going to change—I have a dinner with classmates tonight. Remember to read Xiao Yan a story! Don’t you dare push it off on the Butler!”
If she stayed, he’d strip her bare and have his way with her.
Li Yaru slipped away faster than a rabbit. Before Zhuang Qiting could remind her to come home early, she was already gone. He rubbed his brow, exasperated.
At dinner, little Xiao Yanyan appeared in the dining room in a clean, comfy cotton shirt, quietly leaning against the Butler.
Only when he saw his daddy did he start babbling, reaching out for Zhuang Qiting to pick him up.
Even though Zhuang Qiting teased him all the time—flicking his feet, pinching his chubby cheeks and bottom, and muttering about his “money-losing” ways—the little one still liked his daddy a lot.
Because Daddy’s embrace was solid and safe. When Daddy rarely showed fatherly affection, he was very gentle—he’d read him stories, give him “plane rides,” or let him sneak a lick of ice cream.
Daddy was tall. Perched on Daddy’s arm, the whole world looked different.
The maids brought out Xiao Shaoye’s dinner—pan-seared salmon, foie gras with soft noodles, yam, purple sweet potato, pumpkin cakes, and all sorts of mashed fruits.
“Time to eat, be good.” Zhuang Qiting patted his son’s bottom, ready to hand him back to the Butler, but Xiao Yanyan clung to his tie, his dewy eyes staring up, not wanting to part.
“Papa——pa——”
“Eat your dinner.”
“Mama——ma”
“Still thinking about your mama.” Zhuang Qiting scooped up a spoonful of fruit puree and fed it to his silly son. The child ate with relish, and after finishing, still called out for “mama.”
“Your mommy’s probably off having fun somewhere. You know, soft little things like you aren’t what Ah Rou likes best.” Zhuang Qiting muttered under his breath.
Little Xiao Yanyan didn’t understand his father’s scorn, only blinking up with his big eyes: “Mama——”
Zhuang Qiting: “Looking for your mommy?”
“Ma——”
“Good boy.” Zhuang Qiting patted his head affectionately, “When you finish eating, Daddy will take you to find Mommy. Eat more, little guy.”
With that, he scooped up another big spoonful of foie gras noodles and stuffed it into his son’s mouth.
The little guy ate half and let the other half spill out, making a mess.
The Butler was horrified. This wasn’t feeding, it was force-feeding. She dared not criticize the master for being so rough and just stood quietly by.
Though Zhuang Qiting wasn’t gentle, at least he was patient. Spoonful by spoonful, he fed his son until the bowl was empty.
Then he handed the greasy child to the Butler with instructions to change his clothes, while he himself wiped his hands with a hot towel and changed into a fresh, casual outfit.
Both father and son now neat and proper, Zhuang Qiting took his son out.
In the car, Xiao Yanyan lay against the window, gazing all around. His curiosity was just like his mother’s. Zhuang Qiting always found himself a little softer at times like this.
“Come here, little guy. Sit on Daddy’s lap.” Zhuang Qiting took his son out of the child seat.
Xiao Yanyan didn’t want to be distracted from the view, blowing a bubble from his small mouth.
“What will you say when you see Mommy?” Zhuang Qiting asked with a serious, deep tone, educating his son. “It was you who insisted on coming to find Mommy, not Daddy, you understand?”
“Papa——aa——”
“When you see Mommy, you have to behave.”
“Yiyiyiyi——”
“From now on, you need to be a good kid who contributes to the family, understand?”
“Aaa——”
Li Yaru was at a high school class reunion at Haixian Dabanlu Jiulou, newly opened in Cheong Kwan O.
After years apart, the classmates were in high spirits, toasting each other, eating, drinking, and laughing.
But the conversation always circled back to Li Yaru—they saw her as a legend, and all the toasts were for her. She almost got drunk.
By the time Li Yaru got the message that Zhuang Qiting was coming to pick her up, her head was spinning.
Someone let slip that Ah Rou’s husband was here, and everyone wanted to tag along, eager to see for themselves the style of the Gangdao First Hao Men Jicheng Ren.
Supported by two girlfriends, Li Yaru came out groggily and from a distance saw the familiar Yinci parked by the curb, its black body glimmering under the neon lights of the restaurant.
Instead of waiting in the car, the man stood by it, wrapped in a camel-colored long coat that emphasized his fine physique.
He was tall and straight, left arm holding a plump little boy. His expression was calm and aloof as he looked straight at the restaurant.
Zhuang Qiting didn’t care how many people were staring at him out of curiosity. His gaze roamed over Li Yaru’s flushed, tipsy face, frowning briefly before relaxing again. He strode over.
At the sight of his mother, Xiao Yanyan excitedly reached out for a hug, crying “Mama” again and again.
Wobbling in her high heels, Li Yaru reached out for her child. Thankfully, Zhuang Qiting was quick to free up his right hand and catch her before she stumbled.
“Thank you all for looking after Ah Rou. Next time, dinner’s on me.” Zhuang Qiting addressed her classmates politely and with gentlemanly courtesy.
The man was excessively noble, even a little intimidating, out of place among the crowd.
Everyone bid Li Yaru goodbye, telling her to go home and rest well.
Zhuang Qiting didn’t linger, wrapping his left arm around their son and his right around his wife, leading both into the car.
“Yanyan, you came to find Mommy? Little rascal…” Li Yaru exhaled wine breath and kissed her son’s face.
Zhuang Qiting snorted coldly.
Li Yaru then giggled and leaned into Zhuang Qiting. “Why did you come too…”
“Do you remember who I am?” Zhuang Qiting’s face was icy. He’d allowed her to attend the reunion, but not to get drunk!
“Husband… my head’s spinning.” Li Yaru leaned into him, mumbling.
At the sound of “husband,” all his other emotions vanished.
He spoke in a gentle tone, “Sneaking white liquor behind my back—you’re lucky you’re only dizzy. When we get home, you’ll have some hangover remedy. I’ll let you off tonight.”
Li Yaru didn’t catch all his words, curling up in his arms, playing with her son. Father and son tugged at the buttons on his coat, delighted with their little game.
“Mama——” Xiao Yanyan still clung to his mommy. With her in sight, he paid no mind to Zhuang Qiting.
Li Yaru leaned over to kiss her son.
“Did you hear what I said, baby?”
“Ah Rou.”
Only then did Li Yaru look up at him, dazedly. For once, she didn’t snap at him.
Maybe she’d drunk too much, because she was obedient, her misty eyes soft like two gems shrouded in mist. “I heard you…”
Zhuang Qiting thought she was too sweet, his heart filled with tenderness. He kept his reason and handed their son to Li Guanjia in the front seat, then raised the partition.
The little “money-losing” one’s mission was complete; he could now snuggle up in the Butler’s arms and fall asleep.
Xiao Yanyan watched as the black partition slowly rose, his mommy’s face fading from view. He was utterly lost.
Zhuang Qiting wasted no time grabbing Li Yaru’s chin, tasting the flavors of her mouth—juice, alcohol, and maybe a hint of ice cream.
“Good girl, baby. Be more obedient, don’t make me worry. Even our son listens better than you.”
“Tch…”
Zhuang Qiting smacked her bottom lightly, “No more ‘tch’—you have to say you’ll listen to your husband, and that it won’t happen again.”
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