“It’s actually a little brother, looks just like a puppy.” Zhuang Yanzhou propped up his chin, scrutinizing the pink baby crib and the chubby little “puppy” inside.
“Yeah, I knew it’d be another little brother.” Zhuang Yanyan had been through this once already, so he was very calm.
Zhuang Yanzhou said, “But Daddy said it would be a little sister.”
Zhuang Yanyan replied, “Before you were born, Daddy told me the same thing.”
Zhuang Yanzhou frowned. At six years old, he already understood a lot, practically like a little adult.
He stared at the pink, lacy onesie his little brother was wearing, and the more he looked at it, the weirder it seemed.
Suddenly, he realized something, his pupils contracting. “Brother!”
“What?”
“Did I wear these kinds of clothes when I was a baby!?”
Zhuang Yanyan looked at his little brother sympathetically. “Mm…”
Zhuang Yanzhou closed his eyes in despair. If those friends of his ever found out he wore girls’ clothes as a kid, his image would be completely ruined.
Zhuang Yanyan patted his brother on the shoulder, comforting him, “Don’t worry, you won’t say, I won’t say, no one will know.”
Zhuang Yanzhou’s handsome little face grew even more serious. Zhuang Yanyan didn’t know how else to comfort him, so he simply shared his own “dark past.”
“It’s nothing, Ah Zhou. I wore them too when I was little, and I’ve lived in this Princess Room too. We’ve all been through the same thing.”
Only then did Zhuang Yanzhou cheer up, cocking his chin with a rebellious air. “It’s definitely Daddy, trying to please Mommy—he’ll do anything.”
Zhuang Yanyan hushed him and pulled his brother’s hand, “Don’t let Daddy hear that, or he’ll make you polish the cues again. Daddy’s been in a bad mood lately, so don’t provoke him.”
Then he added, “Mommy’s been in a bad mood too, so don’t mess with her either.”
.
The Zhuang Residence hadn’t been peaceful lately. Everyone in the house knew the master and mistress were fighting, and it was serious.
No one knew exactly what about. Once, as Zhuang Yanyan passed by Zhuang Qiting’s study, he listened at the corner.
It seemed Mommy had wanted to go study in America, but didn’t want another child. Daddy had used improper means to make Mommy have another baby.
In short, the house was a mess. Zhuang Yanyan could only protect his little brother and warn him not to cause trouble, or they’d both be the ones to suffer.
.
Li Yaru hadn’t given Zhuang Qiting a pleasant face in months, and Zhuang Qiting knew he had gone too far this time, so he was holding back his temper.
After their second son was born, he had promised Li Yaru there would be no more children.
In nine years of marriage, this was the first time he’d broken a promise to her.
Once the baby was conceived, it couldn’t be undone; they had to grit their teeth and go through with it.
Zhuang Qiting had hoped it would be a girl, that maybe it would mend their relationship, but fate always seemed to go against him.
Heaven just had to mess with him on this matter.
He’d unwrapped the baby’s swaddling three times now, and each time it was a repeat of history—three little pointy-headed boys in a row had worn down his temper completely.
[Ah Rou, what are you doing? I have a dinner tonight and can’t be with you, but I’ll try to come home early.]
He sent the message, but there was no reply, as always.
He knew what his wife was doing, who she was meeting, but she barely acknowledged him.
Zhuang Qiting couldn’t bring himself to feel any better, and throughout the dinner, he kept up a stiff, cold face, his air as the one in charge making the guests nervous.
Yi Kunshan picked this moment to provoke him.
“Ting-ge, my daughter’s first birthday is this Wednesday. You and your wife must come. I’ll have Wenwen send the invitation to your wife.”
Zhuang Qiting lifted his eyelids, eyeing his friend’s radiant, self-satisfied face. To be honest, it made him a little uncomfortable.
“No need to remind me, we’ll be there on time,” he said coolly.
Yi Kunshan laughed, tapping his wine glass against Zhuang Qiting’s with a crisp clink that matched his mood.
“Your Ming already passed his full month, why not throw a banquet? As a father, aren’t you slacking off?”
Zhuang Qiting replied blandly, “Not everyone likes to show off like you. We did a banquet at the full month, and at a hundred days, do I have to do one for every birthday too? Isn’t it troublesome enough?”
Yi Kunshan said, “Of course it has to be a big deal! My daughter will have two parties every year for her birthday! The first birthday is a huge occasion—has to be grand!”
To celebrate his daughter’s first birthday, Yi Kunshan even bought out all the city’s newspaper headlines, had famous magazines shoot family portraits for a monthly cover—
The husband, tall and handsome, the wife, beautiful and elegant, and the little princess—who’d inherited all their best features—wearing a custom-made dress worth a hundred thousand dollars, a diamond tiara on her head, sitting smiling in her daddy’s arms.
Zhuang Qiting glanced at his friend with icy indifference.
When he returned to the Zhuang Residence, his car had just circled the fountain when he saw Li Yaru’s car pulling in.
He sat in his car and waited; when she got out, he finally opened his door, so they met face to face.
Today, Li Yaru was strikingly beautiful and lively, her long legs sheathed in black stockings, her strapless dress flaring out prettily to accentuate her waist.
She hadn’t expected to run into Zhuang Qiting and walked past him casually, not saying a word, heading straight indoors.
Being ignored, Zhuang Qiting just stood there in the night, his gaze lingering on those eye-catching legs, his face visibly darkening.
“Ah Rou, walk slowly,” Zhuang Qiting strode after her, quickly matching her pace.
Li Yaru said nothing, her shoulder—
“You’re still in confinement, going out isn’t good for your health. Wearing so little, aren’t you afraid of catching cold? The person with you should have reminded you to wear more.”
“I’m already—” she replied calmly.
Zhuang Qiting put an arm around her shoulders. “The doctor said women need to rest for a full hundred days after giving birth for the sake of their health.”
“So after the hundred days, you’ll keep me locked in the Zhuang Residence every day, never going out, never seeing anyone? If that’s what you want, why not just keep her here so no one ever needs to see anyone?”
Her sarcasm was merciless, still stubborn about not letting him send her to study in America.
“Ah Rou.” Zhuang Qiting’s voice turned dark, his grip on her shoulder tightening.
They entered the elevator, and since there were no servants around, Li Yaru shoved him away. “Don’t touch me!”
The elevator stopped on the third floor; Li Yaru hurried out, skipped the master bedroom, and went straight to the pink Princess Room where her youngest son slept.
She’d been staying with her youngest for the past two months, personally taking care of feeding, bathing, and massaging him during the day.
Neither of her older sons had ever received this treatment. Zhuang Qiting had thought Li Yaru would hate this youngest child most, but in fact, the opposite was true.
She cared for him most of all. He couldn’t figure out why—maybe because the youngest took her surname, Li.
She hated him, and by extension, his surname.
Just as Li Yaru was about to enter the nursery, Zhuang Qiting grabbed her wrist and pinned her to the wall, his dark eyes fixed on her.
“You’re not coming back to the master bedroom again tonight?”
“I’m sleeping with my son.”
“And what about me?”
“You can find whatever woman you want to sleep with you.”
“Li Yaru! There’s a limit to this nonsense. Some things shouldn’t be said at all.”
He was already intimidating, his voice magnetic but cold.
When he spoke through gritted teeth, he was like a beast, looming over her with his imposing frame, leaving her no room to escape.
Li Yaru suddenly stopped fighting with him. After almost a year of quarreling, she just felt aggrieved, her eyes brimming with tears.
In a daze, she muttered, “Mm, it’s my fault, I said something wrong.”
“Ah Rou…” Zhuang Qiting’s heart clenched. “I don’t want you to apologize. You don’t have to apologize to me.”
He lowered his head to kiss the corner of her reddened eye.
“If you really don’t like Ming, I’ll have someone take him to the house in Qianshui Bay to be raised there, okay?”
Li Yaru stared at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“Making you have him was my mistake.”
“So you’re going to punish him? Zhuang Qiting, you’ve been high and mighty for too long. How can you say something like that? He’s only two months old. Remember this—I don’t dislike him. From now on, I’ll take care of him myself.”
“You’re just mad at me.”
Taking care of Ming herself meant she’d be sleeping with him every night, putting her whole heart on the child. Why? He was her husband.
“I’m not mad at you,” Li Yaru turned her head.
“You’re not letting me go study in America, my company has a professional manager now and doesn’t need me temporarily, so from now on I’ll just stay home and raise our child, as you wish.”
With that, she shoved Zhuang Qiting aside and entered the Princess Room she’d decorated herself.
Ten years had passed, but the room was still so beautiful, so exquisite and lovely.
The little baby lay asleep in the Princess Cradle, the room filled with the sweet scent of milk.
The butler was nearby, and when she saw the mistress, she quietly reported how the baby had eaten and used the bathroom that night.
“Go rest, you’ve worked hard enough. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
Once the butler left, it was just Li Yaru and her youngest son. She sat beside the cradle, quietly watching her sleeping baby.
The youngest looked a lot like her, with big, moist almond eyes, deep double eyelids, a little rosy pout, and skin so fair it almost glowed.
Thinking of what Zhuang Qiting said, she wished she could bite that man. He actually wanted to send Ming to Qianshui Bay. This was her own child—how could she not love him?
She bathed, changed into pajamas, then picked up her baby and laid him on a little inclined bed in the middle of the big bed. Ming woke up once, and she made formula for him.
After feeding, he gurgled and chewed on her fingers before falling back asleep.
She smiled, lying on her side, and soon drifted off herself.
The night grew deep, the moon hidden behind clouds, silence shrouded the Zhuang Residence, broken only by the distant sound of waves.
Li Yaru woke up in the middle of the night, sleepily reaching for her son, only to find the little bed empty. She sat up with a jolt.
“He’s with me, don’t worry.” In the darkness, a low, mellow voice spoke.
Li Yaru turned to see Zhuang Qiting dressed in black, sitting quietly on the sofa with the baby in his arms.
She had no idea when he’d come in or how long he’d been there.
“What are you doing?” Li Yaru kept her voice very low, afraid to wake the baby.
“Ah Rou.” Zhuang Qiting’s eyes were bloodshot, his breath tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s go to America together in a month so you can study, all right?”
“…What did you say?”
“Give me a month to prepare. The house in America needs to be sorted out, and your school application will take some time.”
Li Yaru had never expected him to yield, and for a moment, she was dazed. “What do you mean? You know I won’t leave Ming behind to go to America… what’s the point of saying this?”
Zhuang Qiting looked down. The baby in his arms slept peacefully, his pale little face serene.
Swallowing, he said, “Let’s take him with us. Ming’s still little—it doesn’t matter where he grows up. Yan and Zhou are big enough; we don’t need to worry about them. We can bring them to America for holidays.”
“And your parents…”
“I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry.”
Li Yaru was silent, her feelings tangled and lips pressed tight.
Zhuang Qiting stood up with their son, sitting down beside her. “Ah Rou, don’t be mad anymore, okay?”
Li Yaru didn’t speak, but after a long while, let out a faint “Mm.”
“When I’m at school, I won’t be able to take care of the child. Will you take care of him? I don’t trust leaving him entirely to the butler.”
“I’ll do it.”
“…………”
.
Three years later.
Manhattan, Wall Street—the North American headquarters of Shenghui Bank stood tall on this famous financial street.
Stepping through the discreet entrance led to a wide, minimalist lobby.
Overhead was a fully glass-domed ceiling. Large indoor green islands basked in sunlight, growing lush and vibrant.
Suits and white-collar elites bustled back and forth, hurrying along.
Zhuang Qiting had just finished a monthly finance meeting and returned to his office, only to see his desk in complete chaos thanks to his little troublemaker. His blood pressure almost spiked.
“Up to no good again,” Zhuang Qiting strode over and fished his son out from under a pile of documents, smacking him twice on the butt.
He’d only been in a meeting next door for half an hour, and this little rascal had somehow found a bottle of ink—his ten fingers were pitch black.
“I’m telling Mommy… Daddy hit me…” Little Ming pouted in protest.
Zhuang Qiting sneered, holding his son up to meet his gaze. “So you know how to tattle, huh?”
“Mommy said, if Daddy hits me, I should tell her.”
“……………”
Little Ming held up his ten black fingers. “Daddy, look! My fingers turned into chocolate flavor! I want to taste them!”
Seeing those inky hands heading for the boy’s mouth, Zhuang Qiting’s pupils contracted and he stopped him immediately. “That’s not chocolate, it’s ink, you silly boy!”
Little Ming frowned, then promptly stamped his inky palm on Zhuang Qiting’s snow-white shirt. A thousand-dollar shirt ruined in an instant.
Zhuang Qiting felt a throbbing headache and quickly took the child to the bathroom, turning on the tap to wash those “chocolate-flavored” hands.
It took almost half an hour of scrubbing before the fingers were clean—now only faintly stained and red from all the washing, but much better than before.
Never did Zhuang Qiting expect his youngest would be the most mischievous! And not just mischievous, but also silly! And greedy!
If he didn’t look so much like Li Yaru, Zhuang Qiting would have lost his temper long ago and given him a real spanking.
“We’re going to pick up Mommy from school later, so behave yourself. No tattling, understand, little guy?”
Sometimes, three-year-old Ming could be clever too. Tilting his head, his big watery eyes looked at his father. “Daddy, I want to eat the donuts downstairs.”
Zhuang Qiting frowned.
“I’ll just take one bite, the rest is for Mommy.”
Zhuang Qiting couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really sly when it comes to food, silly boy.”
He told his secretary to buy some donuts, then carried his son to the car. In the car, Li Shengming couldn’t wait and ate a donut, his mouth full of ice cream and cream.
“Daddy, you eat too.”
There was no way Zhuang Qiting was eating such a sugar bomb—one bite of these Western sweets and his blood sugar would skyrocket.
But his son was insistent, so he forced himself to take a bite, swallowing it with difficulty.
“If you keep eating sweets like this, your teeth will all fall out, and you’ll turn into a little piggy.” He pinched his son’s chubby arm.
“I’m not a little piggy! Mommy says I’m a handsome boy, the most handsome man in the house—I’m even more handsome than Daddy and my brothers!” Li Shengming said proudly.
Zhuang Qiting gave his son a sidelong glance, secretly amused. Just a tiny, puffed-up little man.
So fair and tender—when he grows up, he’ll definitely be a little ladies’ man, just good at making Li Yaru happy, but not good for anything else.
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