MSFLC Ch21

Lu Ting’an rubbed the little round head and said helplessly, “Bought them, bought them—a small bouquet.”

Sure enough, when the clerk brought the flowers over, Lu Zhishi saw one large bouquet and two small ones.

“Baba, you’re the best~”

Hugging his own tiny lisianthus bouquet, Lu Zhishi lifted his head to look at Lu Ting’an with shining black eyes, deeply moved.

He plunged straight into Lu Ting’an’s arms, rubbing and nuzzling happily, completely losing himself in joy.

Hearing the baby’s crisp laughter, Lu Ting’an’s lips curved slightly. He rubbed the little curls and didn’t say anything for the moment.

After politely saying goodbye to the fans who walked them out, Lu Ting’an carried the child away.

Once they were in the car, Lu Ting’an leaned closer and tapped his cheek.

Lu Zhishi blinked his bright eyes and immediately understood. Pouting, he kissed Lu Ting’an on the cheek.
“Baba’s the best~”

Lu Ting’an closed his eyes in satisfaction.

After grocery shopping, they went home. Lu Zhishi hugged his little bouquet and ran around looking for a vase.

Lu Ting’an changed shoes at the entryway, carried the groceries into the kitchen, then came back to pick up the child and went upstairs to get vases.

There were many vases in the collection room—most were auction pieces Song Qinian had bought for Lu Ting’an, and a few were small finds they’d picked up together during walks on dates.

They chose two that matched the color of the lisianthus and helped the child arrange the flowers.

Lu Zhishi held his own vase, touching the petals and then glancing at the flowers in the smaller vase beside it.

Gege has flowers.

Xiao Chen-gege doesn’t.

***

It was only around two-thirty in the afternoon—far too early to start dinner—so Lu Ting’an took the child upstairs for a nap.

With rhythmic pats on his back and the familiar scent of baba around him, Lu Zhishi grew drowsy. He shuffled forward, curled into a small ball, pressed close, and slowly fell asleep.

His dream was chaotic and strange.

A terrifying doctor in a white coat smiled at him while endlessly stabbing needles into his arms and thighs—jab, jab, inject, inject.

The scene felt far too real.

Startled, Lu Zhishi jolted awake.

He stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, lying under the covers for a long while before slowly flipping over and pushing himself up.

“Mm…”
He never wanted to see doctors in white coats again.

Wiping cold sweat from his forehead and rubbing his eyes, the chubby little one, hair a mess of small curls, looked around the room.

He was alone. Baba was nowhere to be seen.

Two rolled blankets surrounded him, keeping the baby from falling off the bed.

With a soft plop, Lu Zhishi collapsed back onto the bed, eyes closed—sleepy but unable to fall asleep again.

When Lu Ting’an entered, he saw the chubby little one lying face-down with his bottom sticking up. He walked over quietly. The baby’s eyes were still closed.

A poke—wiggle.

Another poke—wiggle.

No poke—no movement.

An adorable little sleepybug.

Lu Ting’an’s lips curved into a gentle smile. Helpless, he bent down and picked him up, lightly pinching his nose.

“Still not getting up?”

Lu Zhishi opened his eyes, wrapped his arms around Lu Ting’an’s neck, and rested limply on his shoulder.
“Baba… sleepy~”

“You’ve slept a long time.”

Lu Ting’an brushed his face against the soft curls and pressed down the sticking-up cowlick.
“In a bit, papa will be getting off work and coming home.”

He carried him to the bathroom, washed his face with a warm towel, helped him into a little jacket, then brought him downstairs, set him on the sofa, turned on the TV, and placed a white peach into his hands.

“Baba’s cooking. Be good and watch TV—don’t run around.”

“Okay~”

Lu Zhishi took a big bite of peach and chewed, cheeks puffed.

He’d already finished Pineapple House and was now watching Cat and Mouse War.

Having not seen it in a long time, he’d forgotten much of the plot and watched with swinging chubby feet, completely absorbed.

Lu Ting’an came out to check once, saw him curled up on the sofa giggling with peach in hand, softened his expression, and returned to the kitchen.

Compared to the highly skilled Chef Song, Lu Ting’an didn’t cook many dishes. He’d spent most of his years filming on location, and Chubby Zhiyu had grown up on meals made by Song Qinian.

Still, he made a simple home-style dinner—three meat dishes, one vegetable, plus soup.

The bone broth had been simmering for a long time. Lifting the lid, the milky-white soup looked rich and fragrant. A sprinkle of scallions made it even more appetizing.

He turned off the heat, tasted a bowl, placed the rest in the warming cabinet, and carried a bowl to the living room.

“Come try it.”

Lu Zhishi’s nose followed the bowl, eyes lighting up.
“Smells good~”

Lu Ting’an fed him a spoonful. Lu Zhishi opened wide and gulped it down in one go, eyes shining even brighter.
“Good! Baba amazing!”

The emotional feedback was maxed out. Lu Ting’an smiled faintly and scooped another spoonful.

Lu Zhishi tentatively held the bowl, looking at Lu Ting’an as he pulled both the bowl and Lu Ting’an’s hand closer.

“Go ahead, drink it. There’s more in the kitchen.”
Lu Ting’an was both amused and helpless.

That little mannerism was exactly like his gege when he was young—though Lu Zhiyu had been far less polite, practically snatching the bowl with fierce baby energy.

Thinking about it, Chubby Zhishi actually resembled Song Qinian more. Song had been the same as a child—looking up expectantly, softly calling him gege.

After finishing the soup, Lu Zhishi set the bowl down and noticed Lu Ting’an staring at him, lips curved faintly, as if seeing someone else through him.

No need to think—he was obviously thinking of Big Baba.

Lu Ting’an came back to himself and met those bright eyes, smoothing the cowlick again.
“I was thinking about your Big Baba. He drank soup just like you when he was little.”

Lu Zhishi nodded knowingly. He understood.

Speak of the devil.

The familiar sound of a car came from outside. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, Song Qinian’s Maybach pulled into the yard.

The moment Song Qinian got out of the car, he saw Lu Ting’an holding the child at the door, watching him.

The chubby baby waved enthusiastically.
“Baba~”

Song Qinian laughed, took several bags from the trunk, and walked over, pressing his cheek against theirs.
“Why so enthusiastic today?”

“We were just talking about you,” Lu Ting’an said.

“What a coincidence,” Song Qinian replied, following them inside. “What were you talking about?”

Lu Ting’an chuckled softly.
“About you drinking soup when you were little.”

Song Qinian blinked, smile growing wider, ears slowly turning red.
“The part where I grabbed your hand and stole the bowl?”

“Mhm. You’d tilt your head and look at me, calling gege over and over.”

Lu Ting’an adjusted the little one in his arms.
“I thought you were adorable—round head, round cheeks, little curls, like a mixed-race doll. Your voice was so soft.”

Lu Zhishi listened carefully, lips curling into a proud auntie smile.

Childhood sweethearts were the best—so sweet!!!

Song Qinian froze completely.

Lu Zhishi watched as his baba turned red in real time—from neck to cheeks to the tips of his ears, like a tomato. His peach-blossom eyes shimmered as he coughed lightly, shy beyond words.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me…”

He stepped forward and hugged Lu Ting’an’s waist, burying his face into his neck.
“I used to worry you thought I was annoying.”

Lu Ting’an awkwardly patted his back while holding the child.
“I was shy. Didn’t dare say it.”

“Gege.”
Song Qinian nuzzled his neck and kissed him, voice sticky and sweet.
“I like hearing it. I want gege to say he likes me a hundred times every day.”

Lu Ting’an tilted his head, tugged his hair lightly to pull him back, pinched the back of his neck.
“Alright. A hundred times every day.”

Forget Song Tea-Tea—this is Song Sticky-Sticky.

Between Lu Ting’an and everyone else, Song Qinian was completely different. All his clingy “green tea” energy was used only on Lu Ting’an, which was why fans called him Song Tea-Tea.

According to fans: tea-flavored, clingy, yet Lu Ting’an loved every bit of it.

The aloof Movie Emperor could only be captured by an aggressive, fiery little green tea—especially one he’d practically raised himself.

Caught between them and nearly squashed into a pancake, Lu Zhishi: “……”

Hello? Can you see your Chubby Zhishi-brand lightbulb here?

Reaching out, he precisely grabbed Song Qinian’s red ear and tugged it, successfully pulling the stinky baba away.

Seeing the puffed-up little cub, Song Qinian finally realized there was still a child present and quickly apologized, kissing the chubby cheeks.

“Sorry, baby. Baba forgot you were here.”

Lu Zhishi: “Grr!”
Darn stinky baba! Sad Chubby Zhishi!

Feeling embarrassed under the child’s stare, Lu Ting’an rubbed his ears and went to bring out the dishes.

Song Qinian walked around with the child, coaxing softly.
“Baba really didn’t mean it. You’ll understand when you’re older—sometimes baba can only see your Ting’an baba…”

Lu Zhishi pinched his cheeks and thought hard, half understanding.

Seeing his confusion, Song Qinian rubbed his hair gently.
“That’s something to think about when you grow up. Right now, your job is to eat well, sleep well, and grow tall.”

Then his expression turned serious.
“The checkup says your nutrition isn’t balanced. You’re not allowed to be picky anymore—no skipping vegetables, or baba will be angry.”

Lu Zhishi’s eyes wandered guiltily. Then he puffed his chest.
“No, I ate them!”

He didn’t not eat vegetables—he just ate less than meat.

“You did. Last time you even put your vegetables into Xiao Chen-gege’s bowl. Baba saw it.”

Lu Zhishi puffed his cheeks.
“No~”

“Yes.”

“No~”

“You did.”

“I really didn’t~”

Lu Ting’an came out just in time to see the father and son arguin, whether or not vegetables had been eaten, both standing firm in their own version of the truth.