Time passed quickly, and the days were growing warmer.
The old house was livelier than it had been in years—Fu Zhiyan and Cecilia were both living there now, and even Ye Jing paid frequent visits. There was always someone around for Grandma Rivers to chat with, bask in the sun, or tend to the flowers. The two elders had never been so happy.
Of course, when the baby arrives, things will get even more lively.
After staying home for half a month, Fu Zhiyan's injuries had healed pretty well and it was time for him to go back to work.
As much as he wanted to spend every day at home with Cecilia, she saw how exhausting it was for Henry Hart to visit the old house every day and insisted he go back to work.
On the day before he was due to return to the office, Fu Zhiyan reluctantly dug through the closet, searching for a suit and shirt for the next day.
Cecilia came out of the shower and threw herself into his arms, demanding attention.
"Baby, maybe I should start work the day after tomorrow instead," Fu Zhiyan suggested, pressing a kiss to her. Fresh from her bath, Cecilia was extra soft and tender, and she smelled delightful.
Cecilia pressed her tiny hand to his lips and put on a serious face. "No, you can't slack off like that. If you start loafing around, what will the baby do—skip school just like you?"
"..."
Fair point. President Foster was speechless.
That night, they went to bed together, but as a reward for going back to work, Fu Zhiyan coaxed plenty of benefits out of his little one.
He kissed her until she was blushing all over and tears lingered at the corners of her eyes before finally letting go.
Unfortunately, in the end, he did it to himself—having to go take a cold shower before he could sleep.
By the time he came out of the bathroom, Cecilia was already curled up on the bed, clutching her little belly and sleeping soundly.
"Little heartless thing," he muttered, slipping under the covers, pulling her warm body into his arms, and affectionately resting his hand on her belly.
The next morning, the person who had promised to tie his tie was still sound asleep when Fu Zhiyan was ready to leave for work.
Sunlight filtered over her eyelashes as he drew the curtains. He bent down and kissed her sleeping face, then, tall figure lingering in the doorway, left the room—reluctant to go.
…
After two days at the office, Fu Zhiyan finally finished dealing with the mountain of work that had piled up.
Cecilia began to notice the upside of him going back to work: every night, he brought her all kinds of delicious treats, sneaking them home.
Yes, sneaking—so that Grandpa Rivers, Grandma Rivers, and Mom wouldn’t find out.
A little after 3 p.m., Fu Zhiyan put down his work and picked up his phone. Sure enough, within two minutes, Cecilia’s message arrived right on cue.
[Zhiyan, I want hot-and-sour noodles (*╹▽╹*)]
[Let’s get some from that shop next to Shuiyun Pavilion, okay? (✺ω✺)]
Her two cutesy emojis made him chuckle. She must have a real craving today. He replied immediately:
[Okay, I’ll go get some and bring it back for you.]
He worried that Cecilia might spoil her dinner if she ate too late, so he made sure to get the snack early.
[Mhm, drive safe!]
Cecilia set her phone aside and rubbed her belly. "Baby, you’re so greedy—but thank goodness Daddy will bring food for you."
(Baby: ???)
Fu Zhiyan put on his jacket and left the office. Henry Hart spotted his early-leaving boss and shook his head: better to leave early than not come at all.
The car was already waiting out front, with Lao San in the driver’s seat.
"President, what are we getting today? Egg tarts or milk tea?" Lao San glanced at the rearview mirror, awaiting orders.
"Go to Shuiyun Pavilion—over by the art gallery—get hot-and-sour noodles."
"Ah, hot-and-sour noodles..." he echoed, then set off. Sure enough, Madam is letting loose these days.
Once the noodles were in hand, Lao San and Fu Zhiyan worked as a well-oiled team: Lao San slipped in the door first, checked the coast was clear, waved an OK to his boss.
Fu Zhiyan hurried in, noodles in hand, up to the second floor.
Cecilia was already sitting obediently at the table, as if waiting for her treat. Her head whipped around at the sound of the door opening.
Her bright eyes were fixed on the insulated container he carried. Over time, Fu Zhiyan's car had accumulated a variety of these—to keep her food warm until he got home.
He frowned, suddenly feeling as though the noodles may have become more important to her than he was.
He opened the container and handed her chopsticks. Cecilia dipped her head and sniffed, her nose twitching like a curious kitten.
"Smells so good! Did you add lots of vinegar?"
"Mhm, I did." He absentmindedly tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, watching as she started eating.
He’d already asked Song Ying, and apparently it was fine to indulge cravings now and then, as long as it didn’t affect her regular nutrition.
The noodles were extra sour and spicy, and after just one taste, Cecilia squinted with pleasure. Even her lips were tinged red from the spice.
Between blowing on her food, she chirped, "So tasty!"
Fu Zhiyan raised an eyebrow, recalling that he’d added two full spoonfuls of vinegar. Was it really that good?
But the craving struck quickly and left just as fast. Cecilia ate a few bites, then put her chopsticks down.
The whole bedroom was now filled with the scent of hot-and-sour noodles. She glanced up at Fu Zhiyan. "I’m good, I’ve had enough."
A touch of broth clung to the corner of her mouth. Fu Zhiyan dabbed it away gently with a napkin, his gaze lingering on her flushed lips—he couldn’t help but want to take a bite himself.
Half a bowl of noodles remained. With her dewy eyes, she looked at him pleadingly. "Zhiyan, you finish it."
Grandpa Rivers, Grandma Rivers, and Mom couldn't find out, so he’d have to help her "take care of the evidence," as was the usual case with ice cream and cake. Most of it ended up in Fu Zhiyan’s stomach.
He eyed the extremely sour, spicy noodles and swallowed, suddenly regretting all that vinegar.
He took her chopsticks and tried a bit, immediately scrunching his eyebrows. "Isn’t it sour?"
"Not at all! Oh, but wait—your injury’s just healed, you shouldn’t eat spicy food. Better let it go."
She took the chopsticks from his hand and quickly closed the container.
"Tomorrow I’ll sneak it out and dispose of the evidence."
President Foster patted his chest in relief—dodged a bullet there.
Of course, their sneaky behavior couldn’t last forever. One day, Grandma Rivers caught them eating ice cream.
"Grandma Rivers..."
Cecilia clutched her cone and looked guiltily at Grandma Rivers, then quickly shoved it into Fu Zhiyan’s hand, shaking her head.
"I wasn’t eating—it was Zhiyan who wanted some."
Fu Zhiyan just smiled and took a bite. "Yeah, I wanted some."
"Oh, you two… If Cecilia has a craving, let her eat! Just not too much. It’s normal—when you’re pregnant, you’ll want all sorts of things. Zhiyan, you make sure she gets what she wants and keeps happy."
Grandma Rivers had been through all this before—nothing could fool her. And just like that, the era of sneaky snacking came to an end.
If anyone found out that the president of the prestigious Fu family and his wife in the capital had to sneak around just to eat snacks, it’d surely make the trending topics.
…
At a cafe near the hospital, Song Ying was taking a lunch break, changing into her own jacket and settling by the window with two coffees, waiting for her guest.
It was lunchtime, so the place wasn’t crowded. There were delicate, transparent shell chimes hanging at the door, ringing pleasantly whenever someone entered.
A gorgeous young woman pushed the door open, turning heads as she entered. She wore a peach-pink off-the-shoulder dress that accentuated her fair skin, with chestnut curls tumbling down her back.
Her makeup was flawless; lips a bright, striking red. She radiated confidence and caught everyone’s eye.
She hauled a hot-pink suitcase behind her, removed her sunglasses, and surveyed the cafe with a sharp, upward glance. When she spotted Song Ying by the window, her eyes brightened.
"Song Song, darling, I’ve missed you so much!"
Song Ying looked up and smiled faintly. "I’ve already ordered us coffee. Didn’t we agree to meet tomorrow? You came straight from the airport—aren’t you exhausted?"
"I just couldn’t wait to ask you something, that’s all."
Brushing right past Song Ying’s concern, she took a sip of coffee, immediately frowning—she no longer liked her coffee black.
Song Ying’s smile faded. "Xu Ran, I really think you shouldn’t ask about him anymore."
Xu Ran was Song Ying’s old friend—or maybe former friend. In recent years, since Song Ying had returned from abroad, she and Xu Ran, still in Country Y, had grown distant.
Perhaps distance wasn’t the crucial thing. The person in front of her was no longer the simple girl she once knew; their values had changed, and Song Ying wasn’t willing to keep faking polite smiles.
"Song Song, don’t be like this. Isn’t your hospital’s major funding from the Fu Group? You must have seen Fu Zhiyan, right?"