MSFLC Ch5

After being bundled into someone’s arms and kissed all over, Lu Zhishi’s face was kissed so much it turned red.

Listening to them talk, Lu Zhishi held his bottle with both tiny hands, snuggled in Lu Zhiyu’s arms, leaned against his chest, and yawned with his eyes half-closed.

The voices around him grew softer. Before he fell asleep, Lu Zhishi heard Lu Ting’an ask Lu Zhiyu in a gentle voice whether he wanted to sleep with their dads tonight.

Lu Zhiyu answered something, but Lu Zhishi didn’t catch it.

When he woke up the next morning, only he and Lu Ting’an were on the bed. He turned his head with difficulty, scanning the large bed.

Lu Zhiyu’s little pillow was there, so he must’ve slept with them too.

Lu Zhishi looked back at Lu Ting’an.

Lu Ting’an still hadn’t woken up. Maybe he’d been exhausted from work lately; there was weariness between his brows. He was sleeping deeply. His lashes hung down, dark, straight, and long.

Lower down was the bridge of his high nose, then his thin lips—reddish and a bit dry. He should drink some water.

Lu Zhishi pressed his fidgety chubby hand to his chest, but soon he couldn’t resist and stuffed it into his mouth to gnaw. Even so, his eyes never left Lu Ting’an’s face.

So handsome… sharp brows and bright eyes, red lips and white teeth, an outstanding presence.

Would he be as good-looking as Lu Ting’an when he grew up?

The plump little cub stared at him with clear, bright eyes, gnawing on his hand and drooling. From time to time, he let out a tiny, secret giggle.

When Lu Ting’an woke up, that was the first thing he saw—Lu Zhishi smiling with crescent eyes, lying quietly beside him. Not fussing, not crying. So obedient and sweet.

Lu Ting’an’s heart melted instantly.

He wrapped an arm around the little treasure and rubbed his forehead against the baby’s head. Just-awake, his voice was slightly hoarse and magnetic, yet unbelievably gentle.

“Little one… good baby.”

The chubby little can slowly split into a grin, then suddenly lifted a hand to cover his cheek and rub his face. His fat little legs kicked and kicked as he burrowed into Lu Ting’an’s arms, wriggling like he was shy.

Lu Ting’an froze, then rubbed the round little head, laughter in his voice.

“A baby this small… and you can still get shy?”

Lu Zhishi’s answer was to grab the pajama fabric at Lu Ting’an’s chest, rub his forehead there, then cling and refuse to move.

Seeing the attachment, Lu Ting’an didn’t rush to get up. He gently turned over, letting the baby lie on top of him. His large hand covered the baby’s back, patting slowly and tenderly.

Lu Zhishi had planned to cling for a moment and be satisfied, but under those gentle pats, his eyes began to droop. He opened his mouth and yawned again, turning into a soft little white dumpling on the verge of sleep.

Lu Ting’an lifted him slightly and gave him a gentle bounce, looking into those confused, newly-opened eyes.

“Drink milk first.”

Resting on Lu Ting’an’s shoulder, Lu Zhishi yawned again, still looking half-asleep.

It wasn’t until he was laid in his little crib, holding the bottle and drinking about half of it, that he finally woke up properly—lazy and limp, letting Lu Ting’an do whatever he needed.

After changing the diaper, Lu Ting’an checked the time, washed up quickly, and carried the baby downstairs for breakfast.

Lu Zhishi finished a whole bottle, released the bottle, and lay back with a satisfied little burp.

Hearing that tiny milky sound, Lu Ting’an’s lips curved. He set down the script in his hand, picked the baby up, and let the baby’s chin rest on his shoulder as he patted his back to help him burp.

The baby’s puffed cheeks pressed against Lu Ting’an’s neck. The soft little flesh on his face wobbled with each pat. Lu Zhishi lay there lazily, occasionally blowing a drool bubble, yet stubbornly refused to burp again.

Lu Ting’an was getting worried. He frowned, looking down at the innocent human cub.

Something felt off.

He kept patting.

Song Qinian had said that every time the baby finished milk and got patted, he’d let out lots of air—tiny milk burps one after another.

Lu Ting’an lowered his eyes, staring at Lu Zhishi for a long while, then gently pressed the baby’s round tummy.

“If you don’t burp, I’m taking you to see the grandpa doctor.”

Song Qinian could always get him to burp. When Lu Ting’an tried, nothing came. Either his technique was wrong… or the baby was uncomfortable.

This little one had been born a month early, so tiny. Even his cries were thin and weak. He’d stayed in an incubator for over a month, and was only brought home when he was two months old.

Song Qinian and Lu Ting’an were always worried, raising him with extra care.

And the baby was very good, soft, small, easily bundled into swaddling. When awake, he would stare around with big dark eyes… just a bit clingy, always wanting to be near his dads. If he didn’t see them for too long, he’d quietly, pitifully cry.

The moment Lu Ting’an mentioned “doctor,” Lu Zhishi immediately remembered that weird uncle who smiled and praised him while stabbing needles into his leg.

Terrified, he quickly “worked up” two tiny milk burps to hand in as proof.

“Burp. Ah-ah-da—!”

Lu Ting’an burst into laughter at that expression. He kissed the baby’s cheek and called Song Qinian.

Song Qinian laughed too. “Pat harder. This kid can take it.”

Lu Ting’an didn’t quite believe him, but after ending the sticky-sweet call, he tried patting again—

Lu Zhishi spit up milk.

Daddy… can you be a little gentler? I’m not that tough…

Ten minutes later, Lu Ting’an went out fully bundled up—both himself and the baby wrapped tightly—taking the constantly spitting-up little one to see an old traditional Chinese doctor.

The clinic was tucked into an unremarkable alley in the city center. A faint scent of herbal medicine lingered inside. The people who came here were either rich or powerful.

The elderly doctor stroked his goatee, pinched the baby’s chubby arm and felt his pulse, adjusted his reading glasses, then pressed the baby’s round belly for a while before speaking slowly:

“There’s wind in the belly. The abdomen caught a chill, and he ate too fast. Good thing you came early, otherwise by afternoon he would be vomiting and running a fever…”

The old man spoke slowly. Lu Ting’an pressed his lips together, brows furrowing, instinctively adjusting the baby’s hat.

“It’s seasonal change lately, and your child is naturally weak. You must pay extra attention…”

The doctor rambled on for quite a while. Since the baby was too small, he prescribed only one dose of a mild, warming medicine—just enough for one time.

He also gave Lu Ting’an a bottle of homemade medicated oil to take home.

“Wring out a hot towel and apply it to the belly. Massage and rub around the navel as well.”

After thanking the old doctor, Lu Ting’an drove home, his brows never once relaxing—he looked deeply preoccupied.

From his car seat, Lu Zhishi listened to everything and secretly patted his own belly.

He felt… fine. Not very uncomfortable. Just kind of heavy and greasy in his stomach.

He looked out the window and sighed dramatically, his chubby face wrinkling.

Looks like the plan to eat at Grandpa and Grandma’s this afternoon was ruined.

Lu Zhishi was worried—Lu Ting’an was even more worried.

Again and again, Lu Ting’an wrung out the hot towel and warmed the baby’s belly, his brows still knit.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhishi squinted comfortably, making little “grr-grr” sounds, occasionally grabbing at his own tummy—looking not the least bit uncomfortable.

Catching Lu Ting’an’s gaze, Lu Zhishi reached out to grab his wrist and shook it gently.

“Ah-ya…”

It’s okay. Everything’s fine.

Lu Ting’an finally smiled a little and kissed his forehead.

“All the sickness, go away.”

He warmed the medicated oil and massaged Lu Zhishi’s belly, then did gas-relief exercises—carefully, meticulously.

Lu Zhishi, however, was unbearably shy. His moist eyes were wide as he looked at Lu Ting’an, making soft baby sounds the whole time, while his squishy little butt let out tiny bursts of gas here and there.

His cheeks turned bright red.

Lu Ting’an was so startled he thought the baby had a fever. He hurriedly took the thermometer and checked—

No fever.

He relaxed… too soon.

Lu Zhishi frowned and finished the medicine. While Lu Ting’an coaxed him softly, he leaned against Lu Ting’an’s chest, listening to the steady, powerful heartbeat, and drifted into a drowsy sleep.

Before noon, he developed a low fever.

He vomited and had diarrhea. Everything he drank or took was thrown up. In his sleep, he cried with his eyes closed, tears pattering down, soaking Lu Ting’an’s shirt at the chest.

Things became chaotic. Lu Zhishi couldn’t remember what happened.

When he woke up again, he was lying in Lu Ting’an’s arms—his right hand had an IV needle in it.

Daddy held him, patting his chest gently, while the other hand carefully covered and protected the hand with the needle.

When Lu Zhishi opened his eyes, people crowded around with worried faces.

He looked up and saw several elderly men and women—his Lu-family grandparents and his Song-family grandparents. Song Qinian and Lu Zhiyu were there too.

He lifted his free hand and wiggled it a little.

“Hi-ya…”

His small face was flushed. There was a fever patch on his forehead. One hand had a needle in it—yet he lay obediently in Daddy’s arms, smiling at them.

The elders’ hearts ached so much it hurt.

They stayed with him for a long time, all carrying the same worry in their eyes.

 mother Lu thought of Lu Zhiyu from years ago and said to Song’s mother, “Xiao Yu was like this back then too.”

mother Song sighed, rubbed Lu Zhiyu’s hair, then touched Lu Zhishi’s cheek.

“Always little ones who won’t let us rest easy.”

Getting sick even once made them heartbroken—his face looked so pale.

Lu Ting’an held him the whole time, repeatedly touching his cheek to check whether he was still hot.

Lu Zhishi’s spirits were low. He drifted off again, half-asleep. Somewhere in the middle the needle seemed to be removed. He drank a little milk. When he woke again, the sky was already dark.

Mother Lu and the others had gone home. Lu Zhishi opened his eyes and realized he was in a room.

He heard Lu Zhiyu speaking, voice muffled.

“Daddy… little brother is so fragile. He’s sick…”

Song Qinian soothed him. “He’ll get better soon. Don’t worry.”

One illness had made so many people anxious. Lu Zhishi felt at a loss… yet warmed at the same time.

This was a scene he’d never experienced in his life.

For days afterward, all four grandparents came to see him daily, bringing many toys to cheer him up.

Uncle Chi and Uncle Bai came too. Xiao Chen-gege even brought him a big rabbit plush, rubbing his head and telling him to get well soon.

Lu Zhishi leaned in Lu Zhiyu’s arms, frowning as he drank medicine in tiny sips. His big beautiful eyes stared straight at Lu Ting’an, mouth opening and crying:

“Ah! Ah-da—!”

Lu Ting’an quickly fed him another sip, looking faintly puzzled as he murmured,

“How can there be a child who likes drinking medicine…”

Lu Zhishi: “……”

He frantically pawed at the small bowl, trying to drag it to his mouth. He was so anxious he almost spoke—

This medicine is horrible, please just let me chug it in one go, I’m begging you!

Unfortunately, Lu Ting’an couldn’t understand the babbling.

After finally finishing the medicine, Lu Zhishi completely wilted, leaning against Lu Zhiyu’s chest, sticking his tongue out in misery.