Raising Kids C13

Chapter 13

Ke Ting was stunned by Chen Heng’s sudden words. He froze in place, completely unable to react, and just watched as Chen Heng snatched the umbrella back.

“You—Chen Heng, isn’t this too much?”

Considering they were filming a show, even though Ke Ting was so angry that the veins on his forehead bulged, he didn’t dare to say anything too harsh, fearing that his public image would collapse when the episode aired.

His son had been kind-hearted enough to lend him the umbrella, yet now this man was throwing the blame back onto him. If not for the cameras, Chen Heng would have started cursing outright.

“What the hell? Too much? I haven’t even started yet!”

Ke Ting fit the current mainstream aesthetic of a “creamy” idol—despite being a father, he still wanted to push his career further and strictly maintained the appearance that had made him famous.

Chen Heng, on the other hand, was the embodiment of the rugged, tough-guy archetype. His visibly strong muscles and fierce-looking features made people instinctively feel intimidated.

After Chen Heng said that, Ke Ting suppressed his anger, refraining from saying anything more. He turned around and led his daughter to the shade of a tree.

Being held in Xie Hui’s arms, Xie Ze watched the scene and clung tightly to his dad’s neck. Lowering his voice in curiosity, he asked:

“Daddy, why didn’t that uncle go to the tree from the beginning?”

Little Xie Ze’s young mind couldn’t comprehend why an adult would blame others for being more prepared when he himself had not prepared well enough.

His chubby arms tightened around Xie Hui, and his fluffy little head nuzzled against his dad’s neck.

Although little Xie Ze felt it wasn’t very nice to think this way, he still couldn’t help but feel pleased, thinking to himself—his daddy was the best in the whole world!

Xie Hui was still wearing his lapel mic, but some things weren’t convenient to say aloud. So, when Xie Ze snuggled against him, he just kissed his soft little cheek.

For once, Xie Ze didn’t get an answer from his all-knowing dad, but getting a kiss made him happy all the same.

On the other side, Chen Xing looked a little downcast. He didn’t understand why he had been rejected. When he turned to his father for help, Chen Heng, being a rougher type, didn’t pick up on the subtle emotion.

Chen Yue, however, noticed but had no intention of comforting her silly older brother.

In the end, it was Xie Ze who wriggled out of his dad’s arms. After getting permission, he took the sunshade umbrella his dad had prepared for him and went to Chen Xing.

“Brother Xing Xing, I think your umbrella looks really nice. Can we switch for a while?”

This successfully made Chen Xing’s eyes light up, and his previous awkwardness vanished as he nodded eagerly.

When Xie Ze returned to his dad with the exchanged umbrella, he stood on tiptoe, wanting to be picked up again like before.

This time, Xie Hui didn’t oblige. He simply ruffled the boy’s hair and gently reminded him:

“Can you stand by yourself for a bit?”

“Mm… okay.”

Xie Hui genuinely found Ke Ting a bit insufferable. As a father, when his child was slightly introverted and shy, he would desperately want a bright and cheerful child, like a little sun, to bring his own kid out of their shell.

Maybe it was overcomplicating things by applying an adult’s perspective to children’s interactions.

But from what Xie Hui saw, earlier, when Chen Yue had been extra warm toward Ke Ting’s daughter, she was likely trying to make up for the girl arriving a day late and help her integrate faster into the group.

Before Ke Ting joined, the director had never expected the dynamics to turn out like this. Previously, Xie Hui and Chen Heng’s families had gotten along quite harmoniously, and the three kids playing together had been a heartwarming sight.

“Alright, today we’ll first visit the village to meet the elderly artisans who make Xuan paper.”

The director was trying hard to steer the program back on track. As they walked to the village, he explained the history and various crafting techniques of Xuan paper.

Xie Ze listened intently, never once asking his dad to carry him. His little legs moved quickly, and he didn’t seem to feel tired at all.

Noticing the admiration in his son’s eyes, Xie Hui’s lips curled slightly. The cultural heritage passed down through history was indeed awe-inspiring.

Chen Yue and Chen Xing didn’t ask many questions but just walked quietly. Despite being young, little Chen Yue loved cleanliness. As she walked, she was extra careful to avoid splashing mud on her clothes.

The atmosphere remained pleasant—until a child’s sudden crying broke the peace.

“Daddy, carry me! If you don’t carry me, I won’t walk anymore!”

This was followed by a loud burst of crying, drawing everyone’s attention to the father-daughter pair.

Under the weight of so many eyes, sweat began to bead on Ke Ting’s forehead. He squatted down to reason with his daughter, but she was too spoiled—once her tantrum started, no one could talk sense into her.

Xie Ze silently tightened his grip on his dad’s hand. Watching Ke Zhen throw herself onto the ground and roll around, he shrank back in fear, hiding behind his father.

“What’s wrong?”

Noticing his son’s reaction, Xie Hui lowered his head and asked.

Ke Zhen’s crying had a piercing quality, making Xie Hui’s voice barely audible. Only those nearby could hear him.

Xie Ze tugged at his dad’s clothes. When Xie Hui bent down, the little boy tiptoed up to whisper in his ear:

“Daddy, was I this annoying when I cried?”

Xie Hui saw the nervousness in his son’s eyes and took a moment to seriously think about it.

This little one was truly well-behaved. Ever since Xie Hui transmigrated here, he could count on one hand the number of times Xie Ze had cried, and every single time had been understandable.

“No, baby, you weren’t annoying at all.”

Crying came in many forms.

Ke Ting’s daughter, for example, cried loudly, rolled on the ground, and had a voice that seemed to rattle one’s brain. Even as an adult, Xie Hui couldn’t help but frown at the sheer volume of it.

It was probably because he viewed his own child through rose-colored lenses, but to Xie Hui, Xie Ze’s tearful expressions—holding back until his eyes couldn’t contain them anymore—were indeed much cuter than Ke Zhen.

Everyone waited there until Ke Ting finally made several promises: increasing her allowance, buying her multiple dolls, getting her lots of new clothes, and taking her on an overseas trip. He even carried her in his arms and walked forward before Ke Zhen was finally appeased.

Seeing this, the director felt a surge of frustration. He had filmed so many seasons of celebrities taking care of children, yet he had never encountered such a troublesome situation.

It was just a simple visit to an elderly man who made Xuan paper, yet it felt as difficult as retrieving scriptures from the West.

When they finally reached the old man’s home, Ke Zhen started complaining again, saying the place looked too dirty and dark, that she was scared, didn’t want to stay in this rundown place, and wanted to go home.

Hearing this, little Xie Ze, who had already placed one foot over the threshold, suddenly hesitated, unsure whether to step forward or not.

Xie Hui held his hand and led him inside.

It wasn’t actually dark. The old man’s house had a courtyard, and though the entrance led through rooms on either side, once they turned a corner into the courtyard, everything brightened up.

Chen Heng, still upset over the earlier incident, didn’t bother waiting for them and went straight in.

The cameramen following both families and their assistants all entered as well, leaving only Ke Ting’s family standing outside with just a few people.

Xie Hui was starting to find those two rather annoying and couldn’t be bothered to accommodate them anymore.

A child being spoiled, whiny, and rude to that extent didn’t necessarily mean they were inherently bad, but it definitely pointed to problems in their upbringing.

The courtyard had vegetable patches on both sides, lush and green, looking well-maintained. Seeing this, Xie Ze quietly swallowed his saliva.

Following the staff leading the way, they arrived at the pavilion where the old man was sunbathing.

The elderly man wore a dark Tang suit and was twiddling two walnuts in his hands. He sat in a rocking chair, leisurely swaying under the sun. When he heard the commotion, he finally remembered the visit he had agreed to earlier and quickly sat up.

“Little one, are you curious about how Xuan paper is made?”

Recalling what he had heard about making paper from tree bark, Xie Ze nodded vigorously, let go of his father’s hand, and toddled up to the old grandpa, his voice soft and milky as he asked,

“Yes, Grandpa! How does tree bark turn into paper?”

At that moment, Chen Xing and Chen Yue also turned curious eyes toward the old man. Facing the eager, inquisitive gazes of three little children, the old man was more than willing to share. In his hoarse yet patient voice, he began explaining the entire process of making Xuan paper.

The three little ones gasped in awe from time to time, their eyes brimming with admiration. Their reactions quickly delighted the elderly man, who not only continued explaining but even went into his house to bring out some snacks for them.

After he finished, the children all chimed in, saying they wanted to make Xuan paper when they grew up. The old man then extended his hand—weathered and thin like dry twigs—toward them and let them take a good look at the marks on his skin.

Paper-making was delicate work, and since his hands had been immersed in water for years, the traces left by time were still clearly visible, even though he no longer did the job.

“Little ones, do you still want to do this?”

Xie Ze, seeing the marks on the old man’s hands, widened his eyes in shock.

For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, but a sense of deep respect quietly rose in his heart.

Just then, a sharp, grating voice shattered the brief silence in the pavilion.

“Ew, why do his hands look so ugly? Daddy, I don’t want to stay here! I want to go back!”

Hearing this, the old man’s smile faded, and he withdrew his hand, silently twiddling his walnuts once more.

At his age, he wasn’t about to argue with a child, but to say he wasn’t affected at all would be a lie.

Little Xie Ze, usually good-natured, turned red with anger at Ke Zhen’s words. His tiny hand clenched into a fist at his side.

He hadn’t thought the old man’s hands were particularly beautiful either, but he knew they shouldn’t be spoken about like that.

Moreover, he remembered what his father had taught him before—one should always respect the elderly.

Seeing his son on the verge of exploding with anger, Xie Hui crouched down, picked him up, and gently soothed him.

“Don’t be mad.”

Originally, he had just been angry, but once his father comforted him, three-year-old Xie Ze, who didn’t quite know how to express his emotions yet, felt his eyes start to well up. Hugging his father’s neck tightly, he nodded and murmured in a muffled voice,

“Mm.”

—

—Xuan paper (宣纸) is a high-quality, handmade paper from Xuancheng, China, used in Chinese calligraphy and painting. Known for its fine texture and excellent ink absorption, it comes in raw (生宣) for freehand brushwork and processed (熟宣) for detailed art. It has been prized by artists for centuries.