The next day, Wen Mingyu woke up to find the memories from last night’s drunken stupor gradually returning. The fragmented scenes were not entirely clear, but it was enough to piece together what had happened.
When Wen Mingyu thought about how he had cried for so long while clinging to Mu Zhan, spouting all that nonsense, shame filled him instantly to the point he wanted to crawl into the ground.
He let out a soundless groan, banging his head against the pillow before burying himself in it, lying motionless.
There was no way he could face Mu Zhan now. He might as well just be an ostrich for the rest of his life. That sounded fine.
Unfortunately, that was impossible.
And Mu Zhan was likely to return at any moment.
The realization sent Wen Mingyu jolting upright from bed. He wanted to avoid contact with Mu Zhan for now. Meeting him would be social death.
He scrambled to his feet, intending to slip out after changing clothes.
Just then, footsteps echoed through the room. Mu Zhan entered the hall, walked around the screen, and asked as he came over to him, holding a porcelain bowl. “Awake? Drink this hangover soup first.”
Wen Mingyu knelt halfway on the bed, caught in the awkward position of preparing to get up. His whole body was stiff, as if someone hit the pause button.
He desperately wanted to pull his legs back under the covers. Was it too late to pretend that he was still sleeping?
Wen Mingyu’s face was beet red, his hair disheveled with stray hairs sticking in all directions. He had an expression of shame and despair written all over him. Seeing him like this, Mu Zhan couldn’t help but curve his lips, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Would you like me to step out and do it again?
Mu Zhan had clearly seen him awake. What was the point of this futile attempt to fool himself?
Wen Mingyu hesitated for a second before nodding a little, whispering softly, “Yes.”
Mu Zhan was surprisingly cooperative. Carrying the soup, he turned around and left. Of course, if he hadn’t laughed on his way out, Wen Mingyu would have been even more grateful to him.
A moment later, Mu Zhan’s figure appeared again behind the screen. This time, as he walked past again, he deliberately announced, “I’m coming in.”
Wen Mingyu curled up in the blankets, his face burning hot. He felt a sudden urge to hit someone.
The footsteps came closer, stopping only when they reached the bedside.
Then, a hand gently rested on Wen Mingyu’s body through the brocade quilt, and a voice, clearly tinged with laughter, came from above his head.
“My dear Yu, it’s time to get up and drink your hangover soup. You will end up with a headache, otherwise.”
Wen Mingyu was already embarrassed enough. Hearing Mu Zhan’s words immediately reminded him of a certain line from a movie, adding insult to injury and making the awkwardness even worse. He nearly fainted on the spot.
Since he feared that ignoring Mu Zhan might lead to him doing something even more terrifying, Wen Mingyu pretended to have just woken up and climbed out of bed.
He accepted the hangover soup from Mu Zhan’s hand and was about to drink it in one gulp. However, he found the taste unpleasant, so he ended up sipping it slowly. After finishing, Mu Zhan took the bowl from his hand and asked casually, “Do you remember what happened last night?”
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Mu Zhan only smiled as he answered lightly, “Nothing odd at all. I actually think it’s a good thing. A pity you forgot, truly. If you want to know, I will tell you.”
Wen Mingyu shook his head vehemently. “I just remembered I should go check on Little Chilli and Little Rice Cake. They are likely to cry if they wake up and don’t see anyone.”
He bolted as if fleeing a disaster once he said that, brushing his teeth and getting dressed at breakneck speed, as though ghosts were chasing him. In a way, ghosts were indeed chasing him—socially awkward ghosts.
Wen Mingyu went to comfort the two little dumplings, and they stopped crying immediately, giggling instead and playing games with Wen Mingyu.
They were playing hide-and-seek.
Little Chilli and Little Rice Cake hid themselves, letting their daddy find them. It was essentially a game of “Where Am I?”
But since both little dumplings were still so young, the game style was quite different, giving off a rather silly and adorable charm.
Their idea of “hiding” involved grabbing a small blanket with their chubby hands, lifting it up, and covering their heads with it. This only covered their heads, leaving their small bodies completely exposed, with their bottoms poking up. It was awfully difficult not to notice them hiding there.
Yet the two dumplings still thought they were hiding perfectly. Soft milky voices came from under the blanket, “Me, hide hide.”
Wen Mingyu: “…”
He could only pretend to be blind, deliberately shifting his gaze elsewhere to avoid looking at them while muttering in feigned confusion, “Where did they go hiding? Why can’t I find them? This is really strange.”
The two little ostriches, their heads buried under the covers, snickered smugly to themselves, feeling thrilled at having successfully tricked their daddy.
Their round eyes curved into little crescents as they snickered. They even covered their mouths to stifle the snickers, but the smallpuff-puff-puffsounds still escaped like little farts.
When Mu Zhan came over and saw this scene, he suddenly turned toward Wen Mingyu and smiled, “They really do resemble you.”
Wen Mingyu was about to proudly say, “Of course they do,” but the next second, he caught on. He looked at the two little ostriches. Their appearances were indeed exactly like his own earlier that morning.
So, was he being indirectly insinuated?
Was Mu Zhan mocking him for being a chicken?
Wen Mingyu puffed up furiously, but he was also a little guilty. In the end, he looked away, pretending not to have heard him.
Mu Zhan watched his shy, evasive attempt to avoid his gaze before reaching out to press on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back and face him.
But Wen Mingyu’s gaze darted and shifted everywhere, refusing to meet his eyes.
Mu Zhan pinched his chin, holding it steady so he had no choice but to look at him.
Just as Wen Mingyu thought he was going to bring up last night’s matter, the truth turned out to be quite unexpected.
“You said you wanted a portrait before, right? I have arranged for a court painter to come today. If you have any requests or ideas, feel free to share them with him.”
Wen Mingyu was taken aback. He had actually made arrangements so quickly. The weather lately had been perfect, neither too cold nor too hot, so he nodded in agreement and went to prepare.
He gently combed their slightly longer hair and changed them into cute little outfits. The two dumplings looked like they were made of snow—pale, soft, and adorably clumsy, so endearing that many who saw them felt a pang of envy, wishing they could adopt one.
Once ready, he and Mu Zhan each carried one out.
Little Rice Cake was fascinated by everything. His chubby hands tugged at Wen Mingyu’s lapel as he looked around, babbling incoherently with soft “puff-puff” sounds and “ee-ee” noises. Occasionally, he would utter words he had learnt, like “pwish pwish”.
Feeding the fish had left an impression on him. He really loved the brightly colored, lively schools of fish.
But now, he was pointing at a stone on the ground and calling it “pwishy pwishy”
Wen Mingyu felt both amused and exasperated. He held his little finger, gently guided it down, and shook his head. “That’s not fishy. Fishy is in the water.”
Little Rice Cake gave a bewildered look, responding with an “A-ooo.” It was unclear whether he had retained the lesson or could even distinguish fish from other creatures.
During breakfast, Wen Mingyu absentmindedly said to Mu Zhan, “Pass me the fruitie fruitie.”
Mu Zhan understood and handed over an orange.
Golden-yellow and perfectly round, it looked very appealing.
But just as Wen Mingyu was about to peel it, he seemed to suddenly remember something. His hand paused, holding the orange as he waved it toward Mu Zhan and asked with a mischievous smile, “What is this?”
Though Mu Zhan didn’t understand why he was asking, he still answered simply and directly, “An orange.”
Wen Mingyu shook his head, his tone solemn, “Wrong. It’sfruitie fruitie.”
Mu Zhan tilted his head, a rare look of confusion on his face.
In truth, Wen Mingyu was just teasing him. Having spent so much time teaching Little Chilli and Little Rice Cake to speak, Wen Mingyu had inadvertently picked up their habits himself. His speech now carried a hint of baby talk, and he unconsciously reduplicated words.
Wen Mingyu felt he couldn’t be the only one speaking like that—he had to drag Mu Zhan into it, too. Besides, imagining him saying something so cute and babyish with that usually stiff face of his, the contrast would be so gap moe. Just thinking about it made him excited.
But Mu Zhan refused to do it. He simply replied flatly, “Fruit.”
“Fruitie fruitie.”
“Fruit.”
After several rounds of this, Wen Mingyu started feeling this was a bit too childish, like a scene from a kindergarten squabble. He gave up and asked, “Do you really dislike saying baby words that much? But I want to hear it.”
Mu Zhan raised an eyebrow and suddenly said, “It’s not impossible.”
Wen Mingyu instantly perked up, leaning forward as if he had sprung to life. His eyes were wide and hopeful as they fixed on Mu Zhan, ears pricked to catch this rare moment of his cute speech.
Mu Zhan gazed back at him, his thin lips parting slightly as his deep, sensual voice murmured, “Yu Yu.”
Wen Mingyu shuddered, suddenly feeling half of his body getting tingly.
He never expected Mu Zhan to use a nickname for him, and the impact was a bit overwhelming, catching him off guard.
It felt a bit cheesy and awkward, yet somehow, he couldn’t shake a faint tinge of joy.
It was such an intimate and exclusive way to address him. No one had ever called him that before. The very sound of it suggested that their relationship was unlike any other.
Still, the thought of it made his scalp tingle. If Mu Zhan really called him that every single day, he would probably be mortified to death, mentally rolling around on the ground in embarrassment. It would take a long time to get used to it.
Mu Zhan watched his shifting, complex expression and couldn’t help but chuckle, “You don’t like me calling you that?”
Wen Minggyu didn’t know what to say. “It’s not that I dislike it, but it makes me cringe. I feel like rolling all over the ground.”
“Then, will you get used to it if you hear it more often?”
That should be the case, but Wen Mingyu shook his head, saying earnestly, “You would better just call me ‘Daddy’ instead.”
Mu Zhan had only been teasing him. He felt that the double-word nickname suited him well and wanted to try calling him that. He didn’t intend on calling him that forever, but as soon as Wen Mingyu spoke, he instantly felt that calling him Yu Yu was absolutely perfect. From now on, he will stick with that nickname.
He called him twice more, leaving Wen Mingyu numb all over. Unable to take it anymore, he snapped, “If you keep calling me that, I will start using a cute nickname for you too.”
Mu Zhan couldn’t care less, even feeling a little curious to hear it. “Go ahead.”
Wen Mingyu choked on his words, thought hard for a moment, then fired back, “I have thought of a nickname that suits you perfectly.”
“What?”
“Perv perv.”
ChiFu: Summer classes are over! I’m now in my final year. Hooray! I hope I won’t be held back for many years, though! TT
Sorry if it’s kind of awkward; I’m not familiar with how babies talk since I rarely am around one www