Since everyone knew that Yaoyao was friends with Song Ying, they didn’t have Mia Moore join the ten-month-old bun’s medical check-up the next day. After all, they’d meet at the opening anyway.
Fu Zhiyie naturally didn’t want to miss Little Bun’s check-up. Today, they’d be evaluating the baby’s movements—it was sure to be entertaining.
On the twelfth floor, inside Song Ying’s office, Fu Sen was there as well—his hair a wild mess after working through the night. He sprawled on Song Ying’s single-seater, not caring about his appearance at all.
"Fu Sen, get up, your cousin will be here soon."
"…I… I want to, but after back-to-back surgeries last night, I’m done for, Dr. Song," he groaned, unable to get up.
"Fine, go nap in the break room. Don’t clog up my office with your mess."
"How could I? This way, patients will see how hardworking and dedicated I am—they’ll just appreciate me even more!"
He might be out of commission, but his mouth still worked just fine.
Song Ying shook her head in exasperation, then bent her head to prep the check-up forms.
"Dr. Song."
Chi Chi arrived at the doorway with Fu Zhiyie. Little Bun sported a soft, pure-cotton baby outfit in pale blue, decorated with a cute giraffe.
Since the weather was cold, Chi Chi had also bundled him in a little cap. He was nestled in Fu Zhiyie’s arms, looking perfectly content.
A tall, cold-faced man holding a baby with such natural ease—it made Song Ying smile.
"Hello, Little Bun. How did you become so adorable?"
Little Bun waved his tiny hands, tilted his head, and drooled at her.
From behind, Fu Sen, lazily sprawled on the sofa, raised a hand. "Hey, bro, sis-in-law, hello!"
Fu Zhiyie frowned at him and said coldly, "Fu Sen, did you come to the hospital just to sleep?"
"...I..." Fu Sen clammed up, leaping off the sofa and scurrying out. Passing by the doorway, he added, "Little Bun, mwah-mwah, I’m your cousin-uncle!"
Taking in Fu Sen’s hasty retreat, Song Ying explained with a smile, "He was on call all night."
"Come on, Chi Chi. There’ll be quite a few things to check today."
Fu Zhiyie wiped his son’s mouth with a little towel, muttering, "He’s drooling so much lately."
"Little Bun’s almost four months old. His salivary glands are still developing, so it’s totally normal that he drools," Song Ying explained professionally.
Chi Chi smiled. "Poor Little Bun, getting dissed by Zhiyie so many times a day."
Hooking her arm with Song Ying’s, the two walked toward the exam room like old friends. "By the way, Yingying, you know Julian Jarvis? I only heard about it yesterday when Yaoyao told me."
When no one else was around, Chi Chi called her Yingying—it didn’t quite fit Song Ying’s usual capable image, but sounded much more intimate this way.
At Chi Chi’s words, Song Ying’s steps slowed almost imperceptibly. She replied evenly, "Yes, we grew up in the same compound."
"Mia Moore’s scared of me. Last time, when you gave birth, she kept hiding far away whenever she saw me," Chi Chi added with a laugh.
"Oh, he’s coming to the opening in a few days too. Should be back in the country tomorrow."
"Mm."
Chatting, the two of them arrived at the exam room. The first step was to measure Little Bun’s weight and height.
The little fellow was perfectly well-behaved—he didn’t fuss at all. When they took off his diaper and put him on the scale, he thought it was playtime. His big round eyes curved into crescent moons as he smiled.
"Baby, let Auntie see how tall you’ve grown!" Chi Chi coaxed, while Song Ying expertly took the measurements. There were height markings on the edge of the infant bed; she pressed down Little Bun’s feet and read the numbers.
"Weight: 7.5 kg. You’re growing so fast! Height: 65.1 cm—looks like you inherited your dad’s genes. That’s pretty tall for your age."
After height and weight, there came some more fun tests. Little Bun’s eyesight and hearing were all perfectly normal.
Once the check-up was over, Chi Chi and Fu Zhiyie took the baby home. Their mood was buoyant—all the results were excellent.
"Zhiyie, do you think Little Bun will grow up to be as tall as you? Maybe he’ll be a tall, handsome guy too," Chi Chi mused as they got in the car.
Driving, Fu Zhiyie nodded. "He’s my son—of course he’ll be tall."
"But what if a bunch of girls end up having crushes on him? Zhiyie, we need to teach Little Bun well—show him how to like someone properly. We can’t have him breaking girls’ hearts!"
"Baby…" Fu Zhiyie’s mind drifted to his own cluelessness in relationships—and the mistakes he’d made. He glanced at Chi Chi from the corner of his eye.
Chi Chi looked up and smiled. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing. I just want to make sure he doesn’t end up like me—making you sad all those times. I’ll teach him properly." He was serious.
Chi Chi frowned slightly. "It’s all in the past. We’re good now, and we’ll have a good future too. That’s what matters."
"Mm."
——
The day of the studio’s opening was lively—so many congratulatory flower baskets that there was hardly room at the entrance. Thanks to Fu Zhiyie’s arranged crew, Chi Chi didn’t have to worry about a thing.
The lobby on the first floor was set with all kinds of cakes, sweets, and juices. Thanks to advance publicity, loads of art school students showed up, along with An Ke, Zhou Ya, and several girls who’d once painted at the studio.
The studio kept its original name, ‘ChiZao’ (‘Sooner or Later’). Chi Chi wanted to add Mia Moore’s name to it, but she declined, saying the name was lovely and meaningful as it was.
Sooner or later, everyone finds their own happiness in life.
Julian Jarvis, who hadn’t been seen in ages, showed up too—still as handsome as ever, hair cut a little shorter, sporting a cream-colored coat and a steadier air. He looked like he’d just spent some time abroad.
Song Ying arrived a little late in a white sweater, white pants, and a pale blue cashmere coat—looking far softer than she ever did at the hospital.
She nodded briefly at Julian Jarvis when she saw him—a reserved greeting.
Chi Chi and Mia Moore had already refused to let Fu Zhiyie and Charles Chase help out—there wasn’t anything for them to do anyway.
That evening, Fu Zhiyie booked a hotel banquet—partly to celebrate the opening, partly so everyone could unwind and have a good meal together.
It was rare for everyone to gather like this, and the mood was high. Julian Jarvis spotted his little sister, trailing Charles Chase like a little tail, and raised an eyebrow—he really had been lured away.
After the dinner, everyone headed home. They’d all had a little to drink—even the usually cool Song Ying.
Fu Zhiyie helped his flushed, tipsy wife into the car. Mia Moore ditched her older brother and left with Charles Chase.
That left Julian Jarvis and Song Ying, both feeling slightly awkward. They’d both had a drink—so driving was out.
At last, Song Ying broke the silence. "Shall we walk?"
"Sure," Julian Jarvis replied, hands in his pockets. They strolled along the roadside together.
"Did you just get back to China?"
"Mm."
…
Then came a long, lingering silence. Neither seemed to know what to say.
The autumn night breeze was a little chilly. When they reached the street corner, Song Ying hailed a cab. She glanced back at him.