They only found out Song Ying had given birth when they got Julian Jarvis’s call.
She’d delivered at home—it nearly scared everyone out of their wits.
Little Rice Cake was playing beside her when Chi Chi asked him to go upstairs and fetch his dad.
"Daddy, Daddy."
Pushing open the study door, Little Rice Cake poked his small head in.
Fu Zhiyé put down his papers, stood, and bent to scoop up his son. "What’s up, sweetheart?"
"Aunt Ying Ying had the baby! Mommy says we should visit her at the hospital."
"Alright, let’s go down and find Mommy."
With Little Rice Cake in his arms, he headed downstairs. "What’s happening—Song Ying’s in labor?"
"She already gave birth. It was a sudden delivery at home, so quick it makes me nervous," Chi Chi said, steadying herself by the sofa.
"Don’t worry, sweetheart. If she managed to call you, then everything must be okay."
"Mm."
Fu Zhiyé put their son down. "Go on—put your shoes on by yourself."
Little Rice Cake obediently went to the door, even fetching a pair for his mom.
The family of three went to the hospital. Song Ying happened to be awake.
The baby had come too fast, causing a mild tear, but thankfully no serious bleeding. A few days in the hospital would suffice.
Chi Chi came in from the doorway. "Ying Ying, are you alright? How did you end up giving birth at home?"
Song Ying smiled. "I’m fine now. The baby must have been in a hurry to come out. Slow down walking!"
"As long as you’re okay."
Fu Zhiyé pulled out a chair for Chi Chi. Little Rice Cake lay by the bedside, his wide eyes fixed on Song Ying. In his soft little voice, he asked, "Aunt Ying Ying, where’s your round tummy? Where’s the baby?"
"The baby’s out, so my tummy isn’t round anymore—look over there." Song Ying pointed to the incubator on the other side of the bed. "She’s resting in that little box."
"Can I see her?" Little Rice Cake’s eyes sparkled in excitement.
"Go ahead, take a look! She might be sleeping."
Inside the incubator, the newborn was fast asleep, little fists occasionally twitching, tiny lips bubbling with milk foam.
Little Rice Cake stared wide-eyed, full of curiosity.
When Mia Moore’s baby was born, Little Rice Cake had only been a year old—too young to remember—so this was his first time seeing such a tiny newborn.
Red and wrinkled all over, but to Little Rice Cake, she was just adorable.
"Mommy, the baby is so tiny! Even her feet are small."
"Yes, all newborns are that small. You were just like that too."
Chi Chi felt her heart melt. She put her hand over her own belly, hoping her baby would also be born healthy and well.
"Aunt Ying Ying, does the baby have a name yet?"
"Not yet. How about you give your little sister a nickname, Little Rice Cake?"
Since he’d practically helped with the delivery, Song Ying was fond of him. Letting him choose a nickname seemed fitting.
Little Rice Cake looked up at his mom and dad, feeling the weight of a big mission fall on his little shoulders.
"We can really just name her like that?" Chi Chi tried to stifle her laughter, wondering what kind of name their child would think of.
"Sure! Isn’t ‘Little Rice Cake’ a nickname too? Or ‘Little Tangyuan’—remember that one?" Song Ying joked.
"I know! Aunt Ying Ying, let’s call her ‘Little Pudding.’ She’s soft and wobbly, just like a pudding!"
He’d just had a pudding for breakfast that morning.
Song Ying was delighted. "Perfect—Little Pudding it is! So cute, and we can even call her ‘Pudding’ for short."
Praised for his idea, Little Rice Cake clapped his hands and beamed at his new sister through the glass. "Little Pudding, I’m your big brother!"
Chi Chi returned to her seat by the bed, smiling. "Congratulations, Ying Ying. She’s absolutely precious."
"Having a child really does fill your whole heart all at once."
......
They didn’t stay long, wanting to let Song Ying rest. When she started looking drowsy, they quietly left the hospital for home.
Little Rice Cake lingered at the incubator, whispering to his new sister, promising to visit again in a couple of days.
"Mommy, does every baby have to be born in a hospital?"
"That’s right. When it’s time for the baby to come, it hurts a bit. The doctors and nurses help to bring the baby out."
Little Rice Cake nodded, half-understanding.
By mid-June, the weather was blazing hot. Chi Chi, now pregnant, sweated just moving around, so they’d set up an inflatable pool on the shaded balcony.
When Little Rice Cake napped in the afternoon, Fu Zhiyé would coax her to the pool.
They’d promised swimming lessons, but Chi Chi’s round belly meant she could only wade and float.
Still, a cool dip was refreshing—the water was changed and disinfected daily, and by late afternoon, the temperature was perfect after some sun.
Chi Chi changed into a pale-pink swimsuit, cut daringly and showing off her fair skin.
Her long black hair was up in a bun, clipped with a pink butterfly bow—so sweet she could melt your heart.
She was shy, at first, about being outside in so little clothing, but on the top floor, nearly no one could see.
Her round belly jutted forward as she gripped the handrail, slowly making her way down the pool steps.
"Careful," Fu Zhiyé said, wearing swim trunks and staying just within reach, half supporting her.
He wasn’t overbuilt, just broad-shouldered and trim, with chiseled muscles and obvious abs—Chi Chi couldn’t resist running her hands across them.
Once in the water, buoyed up, the heavy weight of her belly seemed to lift away.
Chi Chi let out a comfortable sigh. Little Rice Cake had already scampered to the pool’s edge but dared not enter, instead watching them soak with longing.
Chi Chi leaned at the edge, her pale belly under the water looking like a giant tangyuan—a sweet, round dumpling.
Fu Zhiyé stood by her side, steadying her waist, every now and then running his hands appreciatively over her firm, smooth belly.
The sun umbrella cast a pleasant, cool shadow over the pool.
"Zhiyé, go on—swim, I want to watch!"
Chi Chi loved the way he moved in the water, strong and agile, tossing up little waves.
"You want to watch?"
"Mhm." She nodded, eager.
Fu Zhiyé leaned closer, gazing at the water droplets sparkling on her neck and delicate collarbones.
"And my ticket?"
"Ticket?" Her face crinkled with puzzled innocence, oblivious to the mischievous look in his eyes.
Seeing her so pure and adorable, Fu Zhiyé felt almost guilty for teasing her.
He chuckled, lips curling as his hand gently cradled the back of her head. He leaned in, kissing the wet corners of her eyes, then pressed his lips to hers.
Her small soft hands looped around his neck, and Fu Zhiyé’s arms circled her waist. Under the water, her skin was silky and smooth as he caressed her gently.
Her round belly pressed to his abdomen as Fu Zhiyé carefully steadied her, tasting the softness of her lips.
Finally, he let her go. Chi Chi’s dazed eyes shimmered, the tips tinged red.
Looking up at him, all softness, Fu Zhiyé tapped her nose, laughing. "Ticket paid. Can you stand on your own?"
"Yes," Chi Chi promised, holding the pool’s edge and standing obediently.
With a powerful push, Fu Zhiyé launched from the pool’s edge and dove right into the center.
He surfaced, flicked back his hair, golden sunlight sparkling off black locks, droplets sparkling as he grinned.
Chi Chi stared, refusing to blink—not to brag, but he really was handsome.
Long arms slicing through the water, relaxed yet practiced, he swam lap after lap with barely a pause.
Ticket claimed, he didn’t mind showing off—let his wife admire him as much as she wanted.
Chi Chi reached out to pat the water from his hair, not shy at all with her praise. "Honey, you’re so hot!"
Fu Zhiyé grinned, hauling her into his arms. Fresh from swimming, his body was hot and brimming with energy, radiating manly charm. "Am I? Do you like it?"
"Love it!"
"Alright then, show’s over—time for you to get out."
He worried she’d catch a chill; she was only allowed half an hour in the water each day.
"Aw, but it’s so nice in here. My belly doesn’t feel so heavy—ten more minutes?"
Fu Zhiyé took her little hand in his big one, "Five."
"Alright, five minutes it is."
Chi Chi draped herself lazily around him, basking in the quiet, comfortable time together.
"Honey, both Ying Ying and Yao Yao have daughters—do you think our baby is a girl too?"
"Do you want a daughter?"
"Of course!"
"Then if you say it’s a girl, it’ll be a girl."
When five minutes were up, Fu Zhiyé helped her out of the pool, wrapping her petite frame carefully in a towel.
He grabbed another towel and knelt to dry her legs and tiny feet.
Sunlight spilled over the two of them: the tall, patient man, the petite girl holding her belly, both smiling with quiet happiness.