Frederick Fairfax found himself getting swept up in the excitement too.
Tears shimmered at the corners of his eyes, and his heart raced.
It wasn’t even his own child—so why did he feel so giddy?
He could only console himself: at least his wife was his.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked.
His phone buzzed with a series of beeps, and then silence.
Hung up? They’d hung up before telling him if it was a boy or a girl!
Frederick Fairfax switched his phone to airplane mode, a wild grin spreading across his face.
Boy or girl—if the baby looked like Olivia Young, either way would be a blessing.
If anyone had told him a few years ago that he'd be a father this soon, he never would have believed it.
Today's flight was known as the nation's fastest—odds were they'd arrive ahead of schedule.
Preparing to take a nap, Frederick Fairfax noticed a flight attendant lingering nearby. He lifted his eyelids and asked, "Is something the matter?"
"Um, could I have your autograph?"
"Of course."
Frederick Fairfax was in such a good mood, how could he refuse? Once one attendant worked up the courage, others quickly followed.
Had he not been in first class, where the rest of the plane barely knew of his presence, he could've held a whole in-flight signing event right then and there.
Elsewhere, Olivia Young had returned to her hospital room.
Her daughter had been taken away by the nurses.
The room was filled with flowers and balloons, delicate scents of blooms and fruit floating through the air.
Frederick Fairfax wasn't there in person, but his father was—pinning a giant poster of him up on the wall.
Emmm... Wasn’t this a bit abstract?
It’s not like she was so desperate to see Frederick Fairfax.
This room... Were they planning on keeping her here forever?
Whatever. Olivia Young closed her eyes and drifted straight to sleep.
"Shh..."
"Keep it down—she’s exhausted and finally asleep," Sophia Sinclair reminded everyone. "Let’s all step out for now. Go visit the baby—I'll stay and watch over her."
"But I want to keep my sister company!"
"Out, out, out!" Sophia Sinclair shooed Quentin Young from the room.
Finally, the ward grew quiet again. Sophia Sinclair gently tidied Olivia Young’s hair and wiped her face, watching her sleep with a pang of tenderness that made her nose sting.
Night had fallen.
A black Rolls-Royce pulled into the hospital parking lot.
Frederick Fairfax clutched a bouquet and gift bag, donned his sunglasses, and charged into the inpatient ward.
In the elevator, he stood ramrod straight. "It’s not even my own child—shouldn’t I be less involved?"
Ian Hope offered, "But your wife is yours."
"This is a agreement marriage! I’m just scared of grandpa—he adores Olivia Young. If I don’t treat her well, he’ll lose his temper and smack me silly! If word gets out that I get hit at home, what will my fans think?" Frederick Fairfax comforted himself. "I’m handling this well."
Ian Hope stifled a laugh.
The barely-there smile played at his lips, so subtle that Frederick Fairfax didn’t even notice.
The corridor was hushed as the two crept toward the patient room—their disguises making them seem particularly sneaky.
"Boss, do we really have to crouch like this?"
Frederick Fairfax immediately straightened up. "The baby’s born less than six months since we got married! If people find out, your boss's reputation will be finished!"
"Forget I said anything." Ian Hope resumed his crouch.
Frederick Fairfax swung the door open.
First thing he saw: a massive poster of himself hung on the wall.
Olivia Young must truly love him—she couldn’t have him at her side during childbirth, so she hung his poster up instead.
And it was enormous!
"Wife~"
Olivia Young, in her comfy pajamas, stood by the bed sipping pumpkin porridge.
She’d only slept an hour before being woken to nurse the baby.
Now she was refueling, ready to feed the little one again.
"You’re back..." Olivia Young’s voice was feeble. "You even brought flowers."
Setting his things down, Frederick Fairfax went over and hugged her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sorry I’m late."
"Don’t worry. I can handle it!" Olivia Young tapped his chest. "Let go of me. My whole body’s sore."
"Where exactly?"
"Everywhere! Is that so hard to understand?"
Sophia Sinclair quietly slipped out, closing the door to give the couple some privacy.
"Where’s the baby?"
"Not here. Go find her yourself." Olivia Young kept sipping her porridge. "Don’t mess with my meal."
"Only having this? Is it nutritious enough?"
"I'm not allowed greasy food right now. A little meat at most—but I don’t want any. The porridge is just right, so let me be." Olivia Young tried to sound fierce, but fatigue softened her tone into something gentler.
Frederick Fairfax took the bowl of porridge. "Let me feed you. Want to sit up?"
"I can’t sit!"
Why was it that after childbirth, everything seemed impossible?
Frederick Fairfax regretted not having read more pregnancy books.
Olivia Young finished the pumpkin porridge in small sips, then curled up on her side in bed.
She looked utterly drained—childbirth had sapped every ounce of her strength.
Frederick Fairfax sat beside her, quietly gazing down.
Usually, whenever they video-chatted, Olivia Young would angle the camera away from her face—showing him the room, the flowers, her belly, a hand, or her back. Sometimes, if he was lucky, she’d let him glimpse her profile.
Now that filming was done, he could finally see Olivia Young clearly.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blocking the upper half of her face from this angle—but that lower half looked awfully familiar.
Another angle—yes, still the same.
He’d once had Ian Hope look into Olivia Young's overseas years. Plenty of Chinese students and expats liked her, some even confessed—but no evidence she was ever in a serious relationship.
The child’s father was still a mystery.
Surely it couldn’t be... could it?
That night, in the dim light—did he remember her face as being just like Olivia Young’s?
Olivia Young lazily opened her eyes. "Aren’t you going to see the baby?"
"No rush—she’s not my flesh and blood. My wife is." Frederick Fairfax took a pretty, delicate box from his bag. "A present for you."
"Wow, you actually bought me a gift? Color me shocked..."
Frederick Fairfax unhurriedly opened the box, his words probing: "Does the baby look like you? Or... him?"
He couldn’t help but test the waters.
"She just got here. Who can tell?"
Frederick Fairfax revealed a sparkling diamond necklace. "Do you like it?"
Olivia Young, savvy about luxury brands, could tell at a glance that the necklace was priceless. The color and cut of those diamonds—flawless.
"It’s beautiful, but I can’t wear it now."
"I'll put it on you."
"Frederick Fairfax, are you nuts? I just had a baby! A sharp thing like that could scratch her! No jewelry for me right now." Olivia Young closed her eyes again. "Let me rest a bit. Go see your precious daughter..."
"My daughter?"
"The dog’s."
That comeback—it sounded awfully familiar.
Guess Olivia Young must not have liked that man either, if she called him a dog.
So it can’t have been her that night—Olivia Young loves him too much to call him names.
Just a coincidence. Had to be.
But really, what were the odds? Her pregnancy, his bout with morning sickness!