MSFLC Ch7

【What brand is this little gas canister? Drop the link.】

【Your kid is round-headed and round-brained, fair and chubby, loves eating and sleeping. I suspect he’s not a normal baby—send him to my house, I’ll help you check.】

【S City, xxxx—my home address. Mail him to me so I can play with him. If he cries, I’ll return him. Thanks.】

【Selling? Do you cover shipping?】

【……】

Below were a whole bunch of posts tagging him.

Lu Ting’an’s lips curled slightly. He scrolled through more comments and said to Song Qinian, “The fans are kind of cute.”

Song Qinian carried over the sulky little “gas canister,” rested his chin on Lu Ting’an’s shoulder, and looked along with him.

The leaked photo only showed the baby’s back. A tiny lump of chubby-can was cradled in his Best Actor dad’s arms, one fat little foot hooked around Lu Ting’an’s shirt.

It really was an adorable little cub.

Song Qinian studied it carefully, then nodded in agreement. “He is a bit… round.”

Lu Zhishi wasn’t the “all meat” kind of chubby. He was round—pure, simple roundness.

Round and plump. Round and rolly. Short and stubby.

He looked kind of chubby.

Lu Zhishi became even more dejected, lowering his head and whining softly as if arguing for himself under his breath, utterly aggrieved.

“Aiyo,” Song Qinian tilted his head closer to look at the baby’s expression. “Someone’s feeling wronged.”

Since the photo didn’t capture the baby’s face, Lu Ting’an messaged his manager that there was no need to delete it—just keep an eye on public opinion.

He put the phone away, took the teary-eyed baby who was about to cry from Song Qinian’s arms, and gently patted his back.

The little treasure rested his chin on Lu Ting’an’s shoulder, flapping his tiny arms by Lu Ting’an’s ear and babbling tearfully, like he was lodging a complaint.

Poor thing—can’t even talk yet, and his stinky dad is already bullying him.

Lu Ting’an carried him farther away from the “stinky dad” and soothed him gently in a low voice.
“Alright, alright. Daddy already helped you get revenge. You’re not fat at all—you’re just a little round. Very cute.”

Lu Zhishi silently looked up at Lu Ting’an, then at Song Qinian smiling nearby, blinking.

—So you’re really going to lie to an adorable three-month-old chubby gas canister, Daddy?

After calming the aggrieved little cub, Lu Ting’an held him and patted him. When Lu Zhiyu came over after his bath, carrying his little pillow, Lu Ting’an pulled him in too and sat down on the bed with both kids.

He read bedtime stories to them from a storybook, while Song Qinian packed his luggage nearby.

This shoot was going to be in a remote, underdeveloped small southern town. Song Qinian had looked it up—lots of rain, slippery roads, and unpredictable weather.

Worried, he stuffed the suitcase full of thick clothes and daily necessities.

Lu Zhiyu was used to Daddy going away to film. He didn’t make a fuss, though he was reluctant. He lay quietly with his head on Lu Ting’an’s leg, listening to the story, little hand clutching Lu Ting’an’s pajama shirt, eyes half-closed and sleepy.

Lu Zhishi’s soul inside was an adult. Even though he didn’t want Lu Ting’an to leave, he wouldn’t bawl like a real baby. Right now, he simply leaned in Lu Ting’an’s arms, spacing out while listening to his voice.

He didn’t remember when he fell asleep.

But when he woke up in the morning, Lu Ting’an and Ye Xi were already gone.

Lu Zhishi felt a brief stab of sadness and listlessly hugged his bottle, gulping milk down—glug glug glug.

After the hundred-day banquet, the guests gradually returned home, and life went back to normal.

A little over three months old, Lu Zhishi still couldn’t do much. He had just learned to lift his head; even rolling over was difficult. Lu Zhishi suspected it was because he was too round and chubby, so he couldn’t flip himself.

He was bored.

He couldn’t see faraway things clearly, couldn’t say what he wanted to say, couldn’t read the books he wanted, couldn’t go where he wanted.

Every day it was either Song Qinian carrying him around, or Lu Zhiyu holding him while they listened to TV for fun. If the weather was nice, they could visit Grandpa and Grandma. If it was bad, he could only stay home and chew his own hand.

Song Qinian had been busy lately—tons of work. Lu Zhishi often saw him working overtime late into the night.

Lu Ting’an was busy too. He squeezed in calls to the kids at night, then went back to filming night scenes. Song Qinian said he’d lost a lot of weight recently.

Lu Zhiyu had school, so the time he could spend with Lu Zhishi was mostly after school and on weekends.

For all these reasons, Lu Zhishi was always desperate to grow up faster.

By five and a half months, he could roll over. With nothing else to do, he rolled back and forth on the bed all day, from the headboard to the footboard, until Lu Zhiyu had to pick him up and put him back.

Lu Zhishi also tried sitting up. Usually, the moment Song Qinian let go after propping him up, he would wobble, topple, and face-plant into the blankets, whining helplessly while trapped.

Song Qinian said, “Drink more milk. You’ll be able to sit up soon.”

Lu Zhishi lay on his shoulder, face hot, and whined miserably twice.

Song Qinian glanced at him and nearly laughed out loud, giving his little butt a light pat.
“Don’t believe me? Ask your brother—right?”

Lu Zhiyu, lying on the bed reading, lifted his head and nodded.
“Daddy’s right. You should drink lots of milk.”

Half-believing, half-doubting, Lu Zhishi gulped two bottles down.

Afterward, he burped—

…and successfully peed his pants in the middle of the night.

It was late. The bedroom had only a dim nightlight on. Lu Zhishi’s face went bright red. He whined for a long time before finally flipping over in embarrassment and tugging Song Qinian’s pajama shirt.

“Ah…” Daddy…

Song Qinian had been working overtime late, and had only slept for less than two hours before being woken up. His brain still wasn’t fully online.

“Baby wants milk, huh? Daddy’s coming…”

Lu Zhishi babbled urgently. Song Qinian thought he was starving and hurried even faster.

“……”
Lu Zhishi unconsciously shoved his fist into his mouth and chewed.

Thankfully, after feeding, Song Qinian habitually checked the diaper too. Otherwise Lu Zhishi would’ve been unable to sleep all night.

Cleaned up and put into a fresh diaper, Lu Zhishi squinted in satisfaction, letting out a few comfy purring sounds. The moment he was back in bed, he fell fast asleep. Lu Zhiyu woke for a second, half-asleep, instinctively hugged his little brother—then drifted back off.

Because he hadn’t slept well, Lu Zhishi couldn’t wake up properly in the morning, eyes closed, sleeping heavy and groggy.

Seeing how sleepy he was, Song Qinian didn’t bring him to the office. Instead, he drove him to the Lu family’s old house, then took Lu Zhiyu and Chi Chen to kindergarten.

When Lu Zhishi woke up, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t remember where he was at first. After thinking for a while, he remembered—this was the Lu house.

Blinking, he slowly rolled over, kicked the blanket away with one chubby foot, and rolled around on the bed. His little curls looked slightly wilted.

He chewed his fist, then sprawled flat on the big bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

He wanted to watch TV.
He wanted to go out and play.

When mother Lu tiptoed in, Lu Zhishi instinctively looked over and broke into a soft, squishy smile.

“Hi-ya…”

Mother Lu’s heart melted into spring water.

Both children resembled Lu Ting’an. Right now, they looked like what Lu Ting’an must’ve looked like as a child—except Lu Ting’an hadn’t smiled as much.

“You’re awake?”
Mother Lu bent down and gently lifted him into her arms, touched his back, checked his diaper.

“Are you hungry? Grandma will take you to eat.”

“Ah-ah…”

Lu Zhishi patted his tummy. A little hungry.

“Alright, alright,” Mother Lu said beaming, rubbing her cheek against his round little head. “We’ll go right now. Grandpa steamed fish custard downstairs—he’s waiting for you.”

Lu Zhishi’s big bright eyes curved, and he giggled with his toothless mouth.

“Yi-ya…”

After washing up and changing his diaper, Mother Lu carried him downstairs. Father Lu was in the living room reading the newspaper.

Seeing them come down, he set it aside and stood, taking the baby and weighing him slightly in his arms.

“Our little Zhishi has grown a bit.”

He examined him carefully, then rubbed the baby’s little curls.

“He’s gotten much taller.”

Then, as if remembering something, he quickly added,
“Not fat. Same as before.”

…Same level of round.

Lu Zhishi’s eyes immediately lit up. He puffed his chest proudly and stared at Grandpa without blinking.

Father Lu understood instantly and launched into a rapid-fire string of praises—eighteen idioms about how tall he was—saying he was the fastest-growing and best-looking baby he’d ever seen, and that he’d definitely grow to 180 centimeters tall.

Lu Zhishi tried to hold it in, but couldn’t. He got so excited his face turned red, giggling wildly in Grandpa’s arms.

“Gehgehgehgehgehgeh—!”

Father Lu laughed too, a big-browed, big-eyed old man roaring with delight.

This baby loved being praised for being tall the most.

Lu Zhishi’s greatest dream right now was: drink lots of milk, build a solid foundation, and grow to 180 cm.

In his previous life, he’d been undernourished. Even at eighteen he was only 173.5 cm. People called him “the short top scholar,” saying things like, “First in the grade, pretty handsome, just a bit short,” and “Good things come in small packages.”

Back then, Lu Zhishi had been sad about his height for ages—then turned grief into motivation and blasted through two stacks of practice exams.

Mother Lu brought over a bowl of fish custard. Seeing him laugh like that, she laughed too.

The little one was too cute—so lively.

After wolfing down the whole bowl, Lu Zhishi burped, full, and lounged lazily in Grandpa’s arms with one foot kicked up.

When Song Qinian dropped him off earlier, he’d told them the baby was a bit bored lately.
“If you have time, take him out for a walk. He’s been so listless.”

Father Lu rubbed the baby’s belly, carried him upstairs to change clothes—into a clean, pretty little cotton sweater and cream-colored suspenders.

A fluffy little ball of chubby-can.

“Come with Grandpa to fish,” the old man said, packing up his fishing gear, putting a little straw hat on the baby, and carrying him toward the small lake behind the villa area.

Lu Zhishi had never been here. It took a while to walk, and when they arrived, several grandpas were already fishing.

“Old Lu, you brought your grandson too?”
A square-faced old man greeted them, laughing.

“He’s so young and you’re already bringing him out. If Old Song finds out, he’ll fight you to the death.”

“Hmph.”

Father Lu snorted, sitting beside him with the baby. He reached up to straighten the baby’s crooked straw hat, still indignant.

“He’s not the only one with a precious grandson. That old fox once tricked me into a chess match and secretly carried Xiao Yu and Xiao Shi out of my house to go swimming. I haven’t even settled that score yet.”

Grandpa Zhao burst into laughter again. Everyone in their circle knew that day Father Lu posted three separate moments cursing Old Song as a sly old fox—smiling and inviting him to play chess, then taking advantage of a moment’s inattention to sneak in and steal the kids.