Ye Yufan impatiently dismissed Wang Zilu’s voice message, pacing back and forth in the exquisitely decorated bedroom.
Recalling today’s events, Ye Yufan’s anger flared. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it onto the floor.
“Ye Mingxuan actually knows how to play the piano?! When did he learn?! And he plays so well!”
If Ye Mingxuan successfully finished his piano performance on stage, his popularity at school would skyrocket! Then Ye Yufan would truly be overshadowed by Ye Mingxuan in every way!
Ye Yufan was surrounded by admirers at school largely because he was wealthy and reasonably good-looking.
Ye Mingxuan, though exceptionally handsome, had been penalized for his dowdy style. Now that he’d upgraded his wardrobe and was about to dazzle on stage, how could Ye Yufan possibly let that happen?
No way! Ye Yufan resolved silently. He had to stop Ye Mingxuan from taking the stage!
…
Ye Mingxuan stripped off his clothes and stood before the mirror, glancing sideways. His belly showed no noticeable change these past days, his smooth, flat skin still protruding slightly like an egg.
Now, every day during his shower, he’d check himself in the mirror, observing the subtle shifts in his lower abdomen, a faint hope stirring within. Ye Mingxuan knew the baby inside was growing healthy and strong.
He gently patted his belly as if soothing it, then stepped into the shower.
The bathroom filled with fragrant steam. Warm, clear water flowed down his flawless skin. One hand held the showerhead, spraying water over his body, while the other, glistening with droplets, spread its fingers against the glass door.
A melody played through his mind, imagining black and white piano keys being played on the mist-covered glass door.
He never imagined he’d actually be performing on stage, and playing the piano at that.
Ye Mingxuan still remembered his last stage performance back in elementary school. The class had rehearsed a grand chorus, and the teacher had placed him right in the center. All the parents of the performing children were invited to watch from the audience.
The man had been hauling cement late into the night. By the time he arrived, there was no time to change clothes. His clothes and face were coated in grimy dust.
Standing before the neatly dressed parents, he felt like a fish out of water. Many people, their noses stung by the dust kicked up by the man, stepped aside.
“My apologies, my apologies!” The man’s eyes crinkled in a smile reminiscent of Ye Mingxuan’s, fine lines etched at the corners. He instinctively moved to the side to avoid dirtying others, yet pointed proudly at the child in the center: “That’s my son! My son!”
Several nearby parents murmured, “So that’s your son? What a rare beauty! So fair and delicate, like a New Year’s painting doll!”
“Right?” The man chuckled proudly, chest puffing out. With each movement, more dust fell from his clothes. “My son is my pride. He’ll make something of himself someday!”
As the stage performance ended, little Ye Mingxuan was the first to dash down and throw himself into the man’s arms. The man scooped him up, and the boy giggled happily, hanging from his father’s arm as he playfully brushed dust off his clothes.
A soap bubble touched his nose. Ye Mingxuan rubbed his hand over it, rinsing himself clean before turning off the faucet and stepping out.
The moment his foot touched the threshold, Ye Mingxuan spotted Tan Sizhe leaning against the headboard, reading a book.
“…” Ye Mingxuan glanced at the wall clock. It was nine o’clock at night. Lately, his husband had been going to bed earlier and earlier.
He tiptoed onto the bed, wrapped himself in the quilt, turned his back to Tan Sizhe, and closed his eyes.
Tan Sizhe glanced over, closed his book, and reached to switch off the light.
The room plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the gentle moonlight streaming through the window.
Tan Sizhe stayed awake, staring at the ceiling and counting silently in his mind. By the time he reached 99 to 1, the little snowball beside him rolled over as expected.
As always, one arm and one leg draped over him, the soft, warm little belly pressed against his waist muscles.
Tan Sizhe curved his lips slightly before finally closing his eyes to sleep.
Unexpectedly, in the middle of the night, he faintly heard sniffles—pitiful and sorrowful—stirring a pang of sadness in his heart. He opened his eyes.
“Daddy… sniff… Daddy…” Ye Mingxuan’s eyelashes were smudged with tears. His nose was blocked, making it hard to breathe, so he gasped for air with his mouth open.
Tan Sizhe’s brows knitted so tightly they could crush a mosquito. He turned sideways, using the moonlight streaming through the window to observe Ye Mingxuan. His voice was soft: “Mingxuan.”
“Waaah, Daddy…”
Tan Sizhe’s Adam’s apple rolled hoarsely. He reached out and began patting Ye Mingxuan’s arm rhythmically. Gradually, the boy quieted and stopped crying. Tan Sizhe pulled out a tissue and dabbed the wetness from his face, bit by bit. After finishing, he tucked the blanket around him and lay back down.
Every few minutes, he lifted his head to check, confirming Ye Mingxuan was truly asleep before closing his own eyes.
The next day, Ye Mingxuan woke feeling his eyelids unusually heavy. He rubbed them fiercely, tossed aside the covers, and headed to the bathroom.
Facing the mirror, Ye Mingxuan startled himself—his eyes were terribly puffy!
“…”, he paused, piecing together scattered fragments in his mind.
Last night, he seemed to have dreamed about his father, and then… then he heard someone calling his name.
Ye Mingxuan pulled off the towel in confusion and bent down to wash his face.
…
Aunt Fu hummed a tune as she placed the pan-fried dumplings on the table. Spotting Tan Sizhe, she gasped, “Sir, did you not sleep well last night? You’ve got panda eyes!”
Tan Sizhe thought Aunt Fu was exaggerating. He only had faint dark circles under his eyes—nothing that could diminish his handsomeness in the slightest. He frowned slightly and replied, “It’s fine.” ”
“Good morning, sir. Good morning, Auntie Fu.” Ye Mingxuan pulled out a chair and sat down, quietly yawning.
Auntie Fu was surprised again: “Mingxuan, why are your eyes a bit puffy?”
Ye Mingxuan flushed slightly at his ears and hurriedly said, “Nothing.”
Aunt Fu scoffed, “One of you has panda eyes, the other has frog eyes, and you say it’s nothing?”
Ye Mingxuan froze, glancing at Tan Sizhe just as he noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Catching Ye Mingxuan’s gaze, Tan Sizhe turned his head to stare out the window at the lush forest.
She pondered for a moment: “You two didn’t have a fight, did you? That’s not good at all!”
Ye Mingxuan: “No, we didn’t fight…”
“If you didn’t fight, then why do you both look like this?”
“…”
Ye Mingxuan lowered his head to drink his soy milk, stealing a glance at the man. When their eyes met, he quickly looked away, gulping down several mouthfuls so hard his cheeks caved in.
Aunt Fu: “You really didn’t fight? Good, good. As long as you didn’t fight.”
“But the gentleman is right. When I was young, I did dream of becoming a writer…”
Ye Mingxuan listened to Aunt Fu’s stories while eating breakfast, occasionally glancing up to see what the man was doing before returning to his meal.
Ye Mingxuan had no classes this morning. When Tan Sizhe stepped out, Ye Mingxuan hurried after him: “Sir.”
Tan Sizhe turned around. The morning light cast a halo around him, making his face appear even more breathtaking. “What is it?”
Ye Mingxuan opened his mouth, wanting to ask about what happened after he fell asleep last night, but he pressed his lips together and said nothing. Instead, he reached out and handed over the tie.
“Huh?” Ye Mingxuan held the tie, unsure what to do.
He’d done many chores at the Ye household, but never once tied a tie for anyone. Ye Mingxuan was a bit flustered.
“I’ll show you.” Tan Sizhe guided his hand to his neck, his voice low. “Aunt Fu is watching. If we don’t act more intimate, she’ll really think we’re fighting.”
Ye Mingxuan glanced sideways. Aunt Fu was wiping the table, stealing peeks their way. He immediately turned back, and Tan Sizhe leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Ye Mingxuan: !!!
Tan Sizhe curved his lips as bright light danced between them. ” Thank you for the morning kiss, Madam. I accept it.”
Ye Mingxuan froze in place, stiff as a statue: A morning kiss?! And Aunt Fu saw it!!
Tan Sizhe had already drifted away. Before leaving, he pulled his tie from Ye Mingxuan’s hand, neatly adjusted it himself, smoothed his collar, and stepped out the door.
Aunt Fu dropped her rag and flew over: “Mingxuan! The master just kissed you! So you two weren’t fighting after all!”
Ye Mingxuan’s face burned as red as a freshly steamed bun. He spun and bolted away: “I’m going upstairs, Aunt Fu!”
Aunt Fu: “Hey, slow down, young master! Don’t trip and fall!”
Ye Mingxuan: “Got it!!”
Aunt Fu watched his retreating figure with affection: “Young love is so passionate. It reminds me of when I was still a maiden…”
