Rui Xia’s appearance was just a minor interlude.
Shen Yuan didn’t pay much attention to her. Rationally, he knew Hailou could never have any lingering feelings for an ex-boyfriend from so many years ago, yet he still couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy.
He reflected that his temper had indeed worsened recently—snapping at the slightest thing, growing lazier by the day. He often teased that Hailou’s image had crumbled, but perhaps he himself hadn’t fared much better. Before meeting Hailou, he had been responsible, diligent, and ambitious.
He silently blamed Hailou for corrupting him under the evils of capitalism.
The next day, they boarded a private jet. Once settled, they planned to rest for the night before meeting Professor Haywood.
Hailou had bought a small villa in an affluent neighborhood, just fifteen minutes from the hospital. The place had already been cleaned, so they only needed to move in with their bags.
As they unpacked luggage sent ahead two days prior, a friendly neighbor couple dropped by with an apple pie. They introduced themselves, and in a country where same-sex marriage was legal, Hailou was open about them being a married couple. The neighbors warmly accepted it and complimented them as a perfect match. Hailou, pleased, returned the compliment, praising their kindness and warmth.
After a night’s rest, the next morning they headed to the hospital. Shen Yuan noticed the joyful laughter of children across the street and saw a father playing with his two kids and a dog in the garden—a girl around seven or eight and a boy three or four. They were laughing and having fun.
Even after driving away, Shen Yuan pressed his face to the window, watching until they were out of sight before turning back. Hailou smiled silently at him, saying nothing.
Professor Haywood eagerly awaited them with his team. Seeing Shen Yuan and Hailou, he greeted them enthusiastically, afraid Shen Yuan might change his mind, and ushered them into the meeting room.
Shen Yuan readily signed the cooperation agreement for medical research but still had some details to discuss.
Professor Haywood said, “We’ve prepared a VIP room for you at no cost. Ideally, could you stay at the hospital? We’d check on you daily.”
Shen Yuan replied, “I’m fine now; I don’t think I need to stay. Coming two or three times a week is enough.” He disliked being hospitalized—he might end up getting sick just by staying too long.
The professor nodded: “Alright, if your condition is stable, that’s fine. Come three times a week for check-ups. Any issues, inform us immediately. Don’t underestimate anything; even minor discomfort should be reported at once.”
Shen Yuan agreed and underwent a checkup the same day. Everything was normal, so the doctors let him go home.
Back at their villa, Shen Yuan couldn’t resist peeking at the family across the street. Their home was brightly lit and warm, faint aromas of food drifting out, silhouettes visible in the dining room—likely sharing a meal.
He sighed to Hailou: “They have kids, a dog, such a lively family.”
A son, a daughter, a dog—it seemed so happy and complete.
Shen Yuan had never seen a fully functional family growing up. His own family had been chaotic. At his grandfather’s house, observing his uncle’s home, it was typical “widow-style” parenting: his uncle worked, his aunt took care of the kids, pampering the younger cousin like royalty. Later, at the Li family, the uncle was a good man, but the ex-wife had passed away, and the mother wasn’t Xiao Lin’s biological mom. Their relationship was distant. As a blended family, things were relatively harmonious.
Hailou, sensing Shen Yuan’s wistfulness, warned playfully: “You want more kids? One is already scary enough. Forget it.”
Shen Yuan said, “No, I just think their family looks nice…”
Hailou patted his head: “We can manage dogs, though. We can have more later.”
He had even prepared a studio: three workstations—one for Shen Yuan’s painting, one for jewelry-making, and one for his own office. Both were workaholics; life wasn’t just about affection and cuddles.
The next morning, before dawn, Hailou rose quietly without waking Shen Yuan, freshened up, and went to the studio to start work. He logged into a video conference and organized tasks, an hour or more passing by.
Meanwhile, back in China, it was mid-afternoon. On the large screen, Mr. Qiao appeared—slightly more casual than at the office, wearing a black cashmere sweater, but still focused and serious. Every team member functioned like a gear in a machine, efficiently executing their roles.
Suddenly, a lazy voice interrupted: “Uncle Qiao, where are my slippers? I can’t find them.”
Everyone in the meeting froze. On screen, a boy appeared from the side, wearing royal blue velvet pajamas, bare feet, yawning: “Why are you up so early?”
Those in the know realized immediately—this must be Hailou’s spouse. The office had known about Hailou’s wedding but not who he had married. Now curiosity peaked, yet the camera didn’t show his face.
Just as the camera was about to capture him, Hailou quickly adjusted it, filming only the waist, saying, “Give me five minutes, handling something private.”
Hailou picked up the boy, who protested softly: “The floor is cold! Put me down!” The voice faded as Hailou carried him off.
The meeting erupted in whispers, gossiping about Hailou:
“Is that Mr. Qiao? He’s a domestic god?”
“My husband doesn’t treat me this well…”
“Who’s the boy he married? Looks so young.”
Only Bai Lu stayed detached: “Work is work, personal life is personal. Stop prying. If Qiao doesn’t want you to know, just pretend you don’t.”
Director Lan silently thought the voice sounded familiar.
Hailou, meanwhile, had acted out of concern. It was winter, the floor cold; he didn’t want Shen Yuan to catch a chill, so he carried him back to the bedroom, placed him on the bed, and warmed his feet with a towel.
Shen Yuan, still adjusting to the time difference, yawned: “Why are you up so early?”
Hailou: “Meeting.”
Shen Yuan snapped awake: “What?! A meeting? Then go already! Why are you here?”
Hailou finished warming his feet, put on socks and slippers: “It’s fine. Everything that needed saying is said. No rush.”
Shen Yuan then realized something else and drew in a sharp breath: “Wait—you were on a video call? Does that mean I got caught on camera?”
Hailou chuckled softly. “No, I adjusted the camera. Even if you were seen, it’s fine—we’re legally married. There’s nothing to hide.”
Still feeling a little embarrassed, Shen Yuan fretted, “I wasn’t mentally prepared for this. Wait until I’m ready before making an appearance. Don’t dawdle here. I’m not a kid; you left everyone hanging just to fetch my slippers—who knows what they’d think of me? So annoying.”
Hailou laughed low and kissed him. “Alright, I’ll head to the meeting. Wash up and brush your teeth; the nutritionist will come by soon to prepare meals.”
Neither wanted their private space disturbed. The housekeeping staff and nutritionist didn’t live with them; they would come, do their job, and leave.
After finishing his meeting, Hailou went downstairs to breakfast and saw Shen Yuan waiting at the table, two untouched breakfasts laid out.
“I told you to eat first. Why wait for me?” Hailou asked.
Shen Yuan replied firmly, “No, we have to eat together. What’s the point of getting married if we can’t even share meals? Food eaten alone is just fodder; food together is real dining.”
Hailou smiled. “Where did you get that idea?”
“From a TV show,” Shen Yuan said.
Touched, Hailou said warmly, “Alright, as long as I’m home, we’ll eat together every day.”
Shen Yuan spent some time sketching and reading, occasionally hearing the neighboring children laughing. Curiosity got the better of him; he peeked out and told Hailou, “That little girl is so cute—blonde hair, blue eyes, like a doll.”
Hailou said confidently, “Our future kids will be just as beautiful. You’re handsome, I’m handsome, so it’s guaranteed.”
Shen Yuan teased, “What if they inherit our ugly traits instead?”
Hailou blew out a breath, unfazed: “Doesn’t matter—they’ll still be the cutest kids in the world.”
Shen Yuan was speechless at Hailou’s audacity.
Seeing Shen Yuan’s attention drawn, Hailou suggested, “They brought us food yesterday. The dishes are already cleaned. Let’s put out some fruit, return the dishes, and say hi.”
Shen Yuan eagerly abandoned his pens. “Okay!”
Even in February’s cold, he bundled up and crossed the street, following Hailou to greet the neighbors. He played with the kids and petted the dog, unsure why he felt so adored by children.
From then on, the two families became friends. The children, not yet of school age, happily visited daily when Shen Yuan called them from the window. The sister, Nancy, and the brother, Charlie, played games, painted, and Shen Yuan even taught them to use chopsticks and speak some Chinese.
Hailou fully supported this. He realized Shen Yuan’s previous sour moods came from boredom and overthinking; children and dogs were the perfect remedy. Living near well-mannered, lively children was a bonus.
That day, the children played with Shen Yuan all afternoon before reluctantly going home. Before bed, Shen Yuan said, wistfully, “I hope our kids will be this well-behaved someday.”
“Of course they will,” Hailou said naturally.
Suddenly, Shen Yuan paused. “Wait… are you sure? What if our kids inherit our rebellious streaks? Will they be obedient?”
They exchanged uneasy glances—this was an unsettling thought.
Hailou hesitated. “Probably… you get along with kids well, and I seem to be popular with them too.”
Shen Yuan shook his head. “Playing with kids is one thing. Raising them is another. Being liked doesn’t mean we can teach them properly.”
Hailou had no good answer.
Shen Yuan frowned. “I had no proper parents, and neither did you. Can we really raise a good child? What if the child doesn’t like me?”
Hailou thought for a moment. “Our childhoods weren’t perfect because of our parents’ faults. If we devote ourselves to our child, accompany them as they grow, we won’t repeat the same mistakes.”
Shen Yuan sighed. “You make it sound easy. I have no clue how to raise a child.”
Hailou smiled, optimistic. “We’ll figure it out as we go. Put our hearts into it, and it will work.”
Shen Yuan wasn’t convinced. “That’s too vague. You’re just trying to soothe me. Give me some actual advice.”
Practical and determined, Shen Yuan believed in action over worry. If they didn’t know how to raise children, they’d better start learning now. He spent the day researching, finding a nearby university offering courses in child education, planning to audit them and take notes.
Hailou marveled at his energy—even with a child on the way, Shen Yuan was relentless.
“It’s freezing,” Hailou cautioned.
Shen Yuan was resolute. “I have to go. Just talking won’t help. If you won’t, I will. I want the child to love me and grow up well—not like me, estranged from parents and bitter.”
Hailou, secretly not overly fixated on children, admired Shen Yuan’s determination and agreed: “I never said I didn’t want to go. Raising a child is our responsibility. I’ll go with you. We’ll learn together how to be good dads.”
Two days later, they attended the child education course together. Auditing was easy; Hailou used his connections and a donation to secure their spots.
At first, Hailou needed courage—the classroom was filled with twenty-somethings, and he, nearly forty, stood out despite his youthful appearance.
Poor Hailou, returning to school at thirty-seven. But family came first—he had no regrets.
They worked harder than many professional students. No written exams awaited them; their future child’s upbringing would be their real test.
Both Hailou and Shen Yuan were determined to earn top marks.