Julian Jarvis left, and the anger in the room smoothly redirected itself towards Charles Chase.
Mia Moore bit her straw, her beautiful eyes glaring daggers at the man pretending innocence nearby.
When she finished her milk, she set the bottle down on the table with a crisp 'pop.' With a squeeze of her small hand, the bottle was squashed flat.
“Charles Chase, how dare you keep that from me!”
“...”
Charles Chase bent down, drawing her into a hug, and said gently, “It’s just that I never found the right moment... Honestly, I meant to tell you, but then you started stressing about meeting my mom, so I thought I’d wait a bit. Who could’ve guessed Julian Jarvis would pop back up?”
“Don’t be mad, okay, baby? You shouldn’t get upset right now.”
He rubbed her cheek, then dipped his head to lightly kiss her lips—tastes like strawberries.
Charles Chase looked at her still-pouting face and couldn’t help but laugh. His laughter was clear and warm; being near him was like basking in spring sunlight. “If you keep puffing up like that, what if our baby is born with cheeks just as chubby?”
Mia Moore hid her face, waving a tiny fist in front of him. “If you ever keep something from me again, you’re finished!”
“I wouldn’t dare. Come here, let me hold you.”
At the bar counter in the dining room, Charles Chase sat atop a tall stool, his long legs easily reaching the floor. With that gentle, handsome face, Mia Moore couldn’t help but sigh to herself—looks really did get people into trouble.
If he weren’t so good-looking, she wouldn’t cave so quickly. She took a single step forward and was immediately scooped into his embrace.
Charles Chase liked wearing those soft, fluffy sweaters; being in his arms always felt extra cozy. As he stroked her belly—which looked no different than usual—he planted another kiss and asked, “Full now? Want to eat anything else?”
“I’m full. Didn’t we make an appointment to try on wedding dresses?”
“Yep, we did. It’s tomorrow. You wanted Cecilia to come along, right?”
Resting against his chest, Mia Moore hummed, “Yeah. If Cecilia helps pick the dress, it's definitely going to be my favorite~”
“So you don’t like the ones I picked?”
“Mhm, yours are alright, but Cecilia’s choices are just a bit better.”
“Alright, alright. No shame in losing out to you two art students.”
“Hey! Who are you calling a kid?”
“You’re not a kid anymore. You’re a mommy-to-be.”
“Come on then, mommy-to-be. I’ll take you to your studio...”
**
At the studio, Cecilia had just arrived herself.
On their studio’s opening day, both bosses managed to be late, leaving two anxious girls flustered at the registration table, struggling to sign up eager new students.
Thankfully, Anke and Zhou Ya showed up to help, saving them from total chaos.
“Yeah, got it—add their times into the computer,” Cecilia said. She managed the process with the ease of experience, having run similar classes back at Qingshui Bay. The studio wasn’t focused on profit and wouldn’t take in too many students at once—no more than ten regulars per day.
They also had spots for five walk-in students. This way, the environment stayed calm and not too hectic; teachers could sit and do a painting themselves now and then.
The gallery exhibition space upstairs was off-limits except for a half-day open viewing each week.
Outside of that, there wasn’t much else to be busy with.
“Yaoyao, you’re here!” Cecilia called, putting her pen down as she spotted Mia Moore at the door. She pulled her inside, glancing at Charles Chase following behind. “Ge, want to come in and sit for a bit?”
“No, I need to head to your company—got some business to discuss with Zhiyu.”
“Oh.” Cecilia nodded, adding, “Have him pick me up early this afternoon, okay? We need to bring Little Nian’gao home.”
Charles Chase gave a wave. “Alright, I got it.”
**
At the hospital, Song Ying had just finished another night shift. After handing over her patients, she returned to her office.
On her desk was a pork floss bun and a cup of still-warm milk.
She took a sip, eyebrows raising in mild surprise. Was Fu Sen having a change of heart? Not only had he stopped causing her trouble, he’d even started bringing her breakfast.
Eating the bun and finishing the milk in a few gulps, her stomach—empty the whole night—felt a little more at ease.
She grabbed her bag and headed home. It wasn’t rush hour, so she was in no hurry. The roads were quiet, the music soft and soothing, shuffling randomly as she drove.
Without realizing, her thoughts wandered back to that night she ran into Julian Jarvis. She’d barely touched her food; her head was such a mess that nothing made sense.
Everyone at the hospital knew Director Song Ying from the OB-GYN department—professional, meticulous, a bit aloof and hard to approach.
But she hadn’t always been that way. Once, she’d been just as naïve and fearless as anyone else, making silly mistakes.
During those years before Julian Jarvis left for overseas, they’d even attended the same school. Who wouldn’t fall for someone tall, handsome, and brilliant at that age?
She was no different—except she’d met Julian Jarvis even earlier than the other girls, so maybe there was some selfish possessiveness in her too.
She always thought she’d known him first. But when she finally confessed, Julian Jarvis just told her he was leaving for another country, and wasn’t looking to date. In his eyes, she was just a little sister—same as Yaoyao.
And that was that—nothing happened after that.
He really vanished from her life. All those feelings remained hers alone.
Affection and resentment tangled inside her, refusing to fade but instead growing ever more entangled with time.
She’d learned to restrain herself. She knew he’d come back, knew he’d started taking over the business left by his father, learned that the shop called ‘day off’ was his.
She picked up tidbits about him, bit by bit, by accident or design, and then just kept on with her life.
But this time, when he returned from abroad, she didn’t want to wait anymore. He’d left six months this time, but what about next time? What if one day, he left and never came back?
**
At three in the afternoon, Fu Zhiyu picked up Cecilia from work.
They went straight to the old house. It was the first time Little Nian’gao had been away from them for two days, and Cecilia missed her son terribly—she couldn’t wait to see him.
“Zhiyu, do you miss the baby? I miss Little Nian’gao so much,” she said longingly.
“Yeah… I do miss him,” he replied.
But somehow it didn’t sound like he missed him all that much.
After dropping off gifts for Grandpa Rivers, Grandma Rivers, and Mom, they stayed for dinner at the old house, then finally brought their son home.
Little Nian’gao was especially joyful once he realized he was in Mommy’s arms, clinging tightly to Cecilia’s neck and refusing to let go.
Maybe they were both too happy about being reunited that they forgot to grab a little blanket for him before heading out. It was already November, and the evening wind was chilly.
Fu Zhiyu took off his coat and wrapped it around Little Nian’gao as they got out of the car.
Back home, Little Nian’gao didn’t seem the least bit sleepy. After two days apart from Mommy, there was no way he’d sleep in his own crib without a fuss.
In the end, only after endless coaxing did he doze off in Cecilia’s arms, and she gently set him down in his little crib.
Cecilia sat beside the cradle for a long while, content, before returning to bed. Fu Zhiyu sat at the head of the bed reviewing documents, pulling her close with one arm. “Had your fill of looking?” he asked softly.
“Never enough. I’ll keep looking tomorrow. Our baby is so cute,” she replied, hugging his hand contentedly and closing her eyes. “Zhiyu, do you think maybe we’ll give Little Nian’gao a little sister one day?”
Fu Zhiyu frowned, setting the file aside and kissing her brow. “No, it’s too hard on you. I couldn’t stand to see you in pain again.”
“Actually… it wasn’t so bad. Seeing the baby makes me forget all about it.” She hadn’t expected him to feel that way and was deeply touched.
“Are you really busy lately? Still working after coming home?”
“Yeah, Charles Chase and I are prepping a few projects together, so I’ll be a bit swamped. But no matter how busy I get, I’ll always make time for you.”
He slipped under the covers, turned off the lights, and hugged her close. “Let’s sleep. You must be tired.”
Cecilia nodded, snuggling in his arms and drifting off.
That night, both were woken up by Little Nian’gao’s wails.
Usually, Little Nian’gao seldom cried. Ever since birth, even when he was awake he was mostly quiet—unless he was starving, or his diaper was wet, then he’d let out a whimper or two.
But tonight, he cried harder than ever, completely unlike himself.
Fu Zhiyu immediately reached for the light, while Cecilia sat up in bed, her voice anxious. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Too worried to bother with slippers, she rushed to the crib. Fu Zhiyu picked her slippers up and slipped them on her feet.