Chapter Twenty-One: A Little Prank

Bringing her onto the ferry was a small piece of mischief on Jin Yuan’s part. Only by luring her here, cutting off the internet and electricity, could he catch this clawing little kitten in his trap. Jin Yuan seemed like a hunter in the night, his eyes glowing red as he fixed his gaze on the prey teetering at the edge of his snare, patiently awaiting the final moment when he could scoop the lively kitten into his palm. After that, no matter how she struggled, she would be his.

“Very well, then. I look forward to working together,” Jin Yuan said, raising his glass in a toast. Yuan Xiangdie swallowed nervously; this man was indeed confident and powerful, so unlike those flashy, superficial types she’d encountered before.

She found herself briefly infatuated, though the little figure in her mind quickly snapped her out of it—a tiny angel with snowy wings, a cartoonish little version of herself, squeaking, “Snap out of it! Don’t let his looks charm you!” Of course, such admonitions were useless, and her inner self was soon sent flying by a flapping wing.

Yuan Xiangdie felt a trace of regret; her cartoon self was so cute, and if she could, she’d love to pinch those soft cheeks. Clearing her throat and realizing she’d drifted off, she tried to compose herself and raised her glass.

“Thank you, Mr. Jin, for your help with this matter…”

Soon, the ferry docked. Only as she disembarked did Yuan Xiangdie realize they hadn’t traveled far at all; the city’s outskirts were actually quite near the sea. Such a peculiar layout! Jin Yuan watched her surprise and smiled to himself.

But when it came time to part, Xiao Wei was reluctant. Clinging tightly to Yuan Xiangdie’s clothes, he practically glued himself to her.

“Be good, baby. Auntie will come play with you after she’s finished her work, alright?” she soothed gently, mindful of the cold wind at the dock—children catch chills so easily. Xiao Wei’s temperature was already dropping; when Yuan Xiangdie touched his little face, she felt something was wrong and quickly signaled to Jin Yuan.

Jin Yuan noticed too; Xiao Wei’s head drooped drowsily, yet he refused to let go, clutching with all his might.

“Could you hold him for now?” Jin Yuan asked, helpless. The child had always been stubborn, though Jin Yuan couldn’t say where he inherited that trait—certainly not from him. The obstinacy and pride didn’t seem to belong to Yuan Xiangdie either; it probably came from another man. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

Yuan Xiangdie scooped up the child, cradling him close. She took a blanket from the butler and wrapped him up, feeling his softness against her chest and worrying deeply for him, as she always did.

“Even if you hadn’t asked, I would have done this anyway,” she said.

They got into a car—not a flashy sports car, but a practical minivan. Yuan Xiangdie was quietly impressed; she hadn’t expected Jin Yuan, such a manly man, to be so adept at caring for children. His practiced movements made her blush; she, a mother herself, wasn’t as skilled as this single father.

“Is there anything I can help with?” she ventured.

Yuan Xiangdie genuinely wanted to lend a hand; after all, Jin Yuan and his family had helped her so much, with her grandfather and her company’s troubles. She wasn’t so oblivious.

Yuan Xiangdie had always preferred luxury, and anything she wore or used had to be unique. If she spotted someone with the same item, she’d discard hers immediately, regardless of the price.

“Could you bring me the formula from over there?” Jin Yuan asked.

Yuan Xiangdie paused, but quickly found the sealed packets beside her seat—each containing pale yellow powder, certainly baby formula. She was quite familiar with preparing it.

“What temperature should the water be?” she asked.

“…”

“Should I make a whole packet?”

“…”

“Does the child need…”

“…”

For the first time, Jin Yuan realized he knew nothing at all. At home, the butler always prepared everything; he only held the child and fed him. Yuan Xiangdie felt a bit awkward, but the butler, wanting the two to spend time alone, had deliberately left them to it, trusting the capable executive. The only thing he overlooked was Jin Yuan’s complete ignorance of the process. Fortunately, Yuan Xiangdie managed it easily by intuition.

She mixed the formula into a glass bottle, tested the temperature on her wrist, and handed it over with practiced ease. Jin Yuan was slightly amazed, accepting the bottle as their hands brushed. Yuan Xiangdie didn’t notice—she was rather oblivious—but Jin Yuan felt the spot of contact burn hot, suppressing his strange feelings as his brows grew more troubled.

Xiao Wei whimpered in his sleep, his pudgy face scrunched up like a little old man. Jin Yuan snapped back to himself, focusing only on the child.

“Don’t cry, Wei. Take your medicine and you’ll feel better,” he coaxed.

Xiao Wei resisted the bottle; he had always taken longer to drink his formula than other children, and even at his age, he still needed it? Eyes squeezed shut, he pushed it away. Jin Yuan hadn’t expected this; at home, feeding had always gone smoothly, but outside, things were different, and he grew anxious.

He tried to force the nipple into Xiao Wei’s mouth as Yuan Xiangdie watched, torn. Her hands hovered at her chest, her brows furrowed in sympathy. Don’t let Xiao Wei suffer anymore; I’d rather take his pain myself.

Both young adults felt the same: this child was their everything, his importance beyond measure. Yuan Xiangdie never imagined she’d want a child so badly—perhaps because of her past…

After much fuss, night had fallen. Xiao Wei woke in the middle of the night and burst into tears.

Jin Yuan hadn’t left; he sat by the bed, accustomed to late nights. Yuan Xiangdie, listening to her heart, stayed as well, though she worried about being misunderstood.

Jin Yuan’s gaze met hers, and Yuan Xiangdie stammered, unsure what to say.

“Stay,” he said, biting his lip, tension never leaving his face.

The words felt like a pardon, and Yuan Xiangdie nodded without thinking. She obediently moved to the other side of the bed, not bothering with a chair, but sitting on the floor.

Jin Yuan opened his mouth to suggest she sit on the bed, but when he saw the tenderness in her eyes and the familiar look in her features, he forgot what he meant to say, standing there, dazed.

Knock, knock, knock.

The butler entered with a tray—their dinner. Concerned for the young master, neither had come down to eat. The dishes were simple, yet still fragrant.

The butler worried about disturbing Xiao Wei, so asked softly while knocking. Jin Yuan was already standing, so he strode out.

“You both should eat something. You know the young master’s constitution well,” he advised.

Indeed, Xiao Wei was born premature and not very strong, but still a lively boy. At five or six, he was full of energy. Jin Yuan never let him engage in rough play, but sometimes took him hiking and exercising. His meals were always specially prepared by a nutritionist—a balanced children’s menu, with flavor and nutrition carefully tailored, requiring triple the patience compared to other kids.

The butler pointed at Yuan Xiangdie, who was sitting at the bedside, gently stroking the child’s face. The light was dim, so they turned on a small lamp. In the soft glow, was this the warmth of home?

Jin Yuan didn’t understand such things. Since entering society and climbing his way to the president’s chair, he had always worked diligently. Women, to him, were only pleasing if they were easy on the eye; he had never considered the concept of home.

“Miss Yuan Xiangdie should eat something, too. Women’s bodies are frail—especially at night, when the chill is worse. Have something to warm yourself,” the butler urged, knowing this argument would convince his employer, as expected.

Jin Yuan beckoned to her, and Yuan Xiangdie, catching his gesture from the corner of her eye, tried to gently withdraw her hand. But Xiao Wei, sensing the loss of warmth, gripped her tightly, as if he could foresee it.

Yuan Xiangdie, helpless, mouthed softly, “Never mind, Mr. Jin, you eat first. I’m not hungry yet.”

For the sake of her figure, she didn’t mind skipping meals. She’d gone hungry plenty of times when she left her family, and it hadn’t bothered her.

“I’m quite healthy, really,” she added, though even she wasn’t sure why.