A small child in a white puffy jacket and mittens darted down the hallway — a tiny bundle of winter. His face was fair and round, his features already distinct for someone so little—you could just tell he’d grow up handsome.
The little one crept up next to the glass wall of the conference room, peering in.
It was nearly time to get off work. Chi Chi had brought little Mochi to wait for Fu Zhiyie, and when she asked, she was told he was still in a meeting.
With a sigh, little Mochi scampered to the conference room to spy on whether his dad was finished yet.
The conference room’s glass wall was like a one-way mirror: from outside, all you saw were blurred, shadowy silhouettes, but from inside, it was a completely clear view out.
Little Mochi pressed right up against the glass, sticking his little behind into the air, searching for his Dad among the indistinct shadows.
Hm? Why did everyone look so shadowy? Where was Dad?
Maybe that broad-shouldered one with his back to him was Dad, leaning back in his chair.
He watched for a bit, pressing his cheek to the icy-cold glass—he couldn’t hear a thing.
Bored, little Mochi pulled his ear away, his warm breath fogging up the glass.
Suddenly, he discovered a whole new world. His eyes sparkled. "Wow!" he exclaimed.
He blew another breath onto the pane—sure enough, more white mist clouded the glass.
He tapped a chubby finger into the fogged spot, leaving little dots behind.
This was so fun!
Little Mochi joyfully breathed onto the glass and drew little doodles, just as his mommy did. She was amazing at drawing, and most days, he’d watch and try drawing alongside her.
His attempts were lopsided squiggles, showing zero inherited talent, but that never dimmed his confidence.
One of the employees facing the glass couldn’t help but chuckle after watching for a while. The boss’s kid was just too cute—he probably had no idea everyone inside could see him.
One person laughed, then the others couldn’t hold back either. Soon, giggles spread throughout the meeting room.
Fu Zhiyie, having been dragged into a meeting right before clocking out, was already in a foul mood.
When he saw a bunch of his staff laughing, he shot them a cold glare on the spot.
He began drumming his pen impatiently on the tabletop.
The person across from him clammed up, looking innocent. Henry Hart glanced behind him, then broke out in a snort of laughter.
"Boss, your son’s outside."
Fu Zhiyie turned around...
...to see his little boy’s face squished against the glass, huffing and drawing with his fingers.
The grump softened immediately. His expression gentled.
"Ahem… Alright, that’s enough for today. Let’s wrap it up."
He stood up and headed to the door. The soft thud of it opening made little Mochi’s big eyes widen with delight as he looked over to see Dad come out.
He pushed himself off the ground and stood up. "Daddy, are you done now?"
Fu Zhiyie bent down and scooped him up. "Yes, I’m done with my meeting. Did you and Mommy come pick me up?"
"Yep! Yep!" People filtered out behind him, all stifling their laughter at little Mochi.
Little Mochi cocked his head, peering between them and his dad. "Why are all the uncles laughing?"
Fu Zhiyie, cool as ever, replied, "Because they think you’re adorable. They really like you."
"They do? Then I like them too!" Little Mochi nodded earnestly, totally pleased to be so well-liked. "It’s snowing, Mommy said you’d come home and build a snowman with me."
Fu Zhiyie planted a kiss on his son’s cheek. "Of course. Where’s Mommy?"
"Your wife’s in the office."
Back in the office, Chi Chi was tidying up Fu Zhiyie’s messy desk. When the two came in, she smiled, "Did you bring Daddy back?"
"Mm! Mommy, aren’t I awesome?"
"You sure are~"
Fu Zhiyie leaned in close to his wife and quietly recounted everything little Mochi had just done, making Chi Chi stifle her laughter.
"Honey, how are you so cute?"
Little Mochi looked at his mom with shining eyes. "No, Mommy’s the cutest!"
"Alright, alright, I’m the cutest."
Fu Zhiyie had been teaching little Mochi every day: always be good to Mommy, praise Mommy, help Mommy. Little Mochi took this very seriously.
"Daddy, can we build a snowman now?"
"Yes, let’s go."
Chi Chi wrapped a scarf around little Mochi. He beamed, "Thank you, Mommy!"
"You’re welcome, sweetie."
Fu Zhiyie carried his son with one arm, took his wife’s hand with the other, and the three of them went downstairs together.
Outside, the snow was falling thick and fluffy—each flake drifted down in a lively swirl.
"It’s so beautiful, Mommy."
"It is," Chi Chi replied, loving snowy days—the world transformed, quiet and pure.
"Can we build a snowman as soon as we get home?"
"Probably after dinner, sweetie. It’s just started snowing."
"Alright then."
The three of them returned to Qinghe Community. Unless they were visiting the old family home, this was where they’d lived for the last two years—never once moving.
Inside, it was always toasty thanks to the central heating. Chi Chi helped little Mochi take off his scarf and gloves. "Sweetie, make sure you put your coat on if you go out onto the balcony, or you’ll catch a cold."
"Okay, I will."
It was deep winter, and the pool on the balcony had long been drained—better safe than sorry with a child in the house.
As soon as the door opened, Zao Zao the family dog bounded over, circling around little Mochi’s legs.
"Zao Zao, come here!"
Little Mochi led the dog to the sofa, and Chi Chi turned on a cartoon for them.
Usually, Grandma Rivers and Grandpa Rivers would send food over, and Aunt Whitney sometimes came by to cook. But Chi Chi loved making meals herself for her husband and son. With the cold weather, she checked the kitchen and figured coconut chicken soup would be perfect tonight.
Fu Zhiyie changed out of his work clothes upstairs, peeked at his son, then went to the kitchen to help his wife.
"Babe, what should I do?"
Chi Chi handed him a coconut from the fridge. "Open this up, let’s have coconut chicken for dinner."
Over the past two years, if Fu Zhiyie had improved at anything, it was in the kitchen. These days, he practically knew his way around every dish. As long as he was home, he never let Chi Chi cook alone; he always helped.
Such warm, peaceful days brought him a happiness he’d never known before.
At twenty-five, after two more years, Chi Chi was still like a young girl—prettier by the day, carrying an extra glow and gentleness that Fu Zhiyie couldn’t get enough of.
As the chicken simmered with coconut, she steamed an egg for little Mochi.
The three of them enjoyed a cozy dinner. Afterward, little Mochi tugged at his dad excitedly—time to build the snowman.
He obediently bundled up, then went out to the balcony where the snow had already piled up thick.
It was his first time building a snowman. He’d only ever seen them in cartoons.
"Daddy, are snowmen supposed to be round?"
"Yep, a round head and tummy, just like you."
After a while, little Mochi rushed back in. "Mommy, can you give me a carrot? Snowmen need little noses!"
"Of course, hang on."
Chi Chi got a tiny carrot from the fridge. Little Mochi was always so polite, whether with strangers or family. They’d never drilled manners into him; he simply watched how they behaved and learned by example.
Accepting the little fruit-sized carrot, he tipped his face up to his mom. "Thank you, Mommy!" Then he dashed back out to the balcony.
Father and son busied themselves on the balcony for a good while, finally managing to roll a lopsided snowman together.
Little Mochi inspected it carefully. Somehow it didn’t look quite like the ones on TV—this one was kind of ugly. But not wanting to hurt his dad’s feelings, he still nodded in approval. "Daddy, our snowman really… looks like a snowman!"
Fu Zhiyie burst into laughter. It really wasn’t a great snowman. "Alright, time for bed now. You can look at it again tomorrow." With that, he scooped up his son and carried him off to his room.
"Will the snowman still be there waiting for me tomorrow?"