10

Zai Ye’s plan to burden young Vice President Zhang with the task of giving their daughter a happy childhood was completely foiled.

The angry little girl let out a huff and charged straight at his waist.

Zai Ye gasped, and Qian let out a loud wail. Zhang Qinghe, holding her water glass, quietly stepped aside to give them space to hash it out.

The father and daughter had gotten into a spat—one wanted to study, the other didn’t, and neither was willing to back down.

One of them, full of resentment, shouted, “It’s all because of your half-baked magic that I have to go back to school! Is this how you show filial piety to your father? Ever heard of sharing hardships together?”

The other, righteously indignant, retorted, “I’ve already been to tons of schools! I don’t want to go to school anymore, and I don’t want to do homework!”

At one point, both of them turned to look at Zhang Qinghe.

Zhang Qinghe: For a second there, I thought I was the judge in a courtroom.

Qian threw herself into her mother’s arms, sniffling, “Mommy, I’m only three years old. I don’t know how to do homework.”

Zai Ye immediately exposed her: “That’s just the magic! You’re not really three!”

Qian burst into even louder sobs.

And just like that, the two of them entered a cold war.

Usually at school, Qian spent most of her time with Zai Ye and only occasionally visited Zhang Qinghe. But ever since the argument, she had been sticking to Zhang Qinghe’s classroom almost full-time.

Kids are noisy. They constantly crave adult attention. Even if they’re not crying or throwing tantrums, they always have something to say.

Zhang Qinghe spent the whole day with Qian chattering in her ear. She could barely remember what the teacher was even talking about in class. Then, looking out the window, she saw Zai Ye heading off to play basketball with a group of boys, light-footed and carefree. She couldn’t help but wonder—were these two putting on an act just to mess with her?

Zai Ye probably just didn’t want to take care of the kid and dumped her on me on purpose, didn’t he?

Thankfully, every night, Zai Ye still came to pick Qian up to sleep at his place. If Zhang Qinghe had to take care of her day and night, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Children’s Day was just around the corner.

It used to mean nothing to Zhang Qinghe, just like Mother’s Day. But now, things were different.

“Qian’s birthday is on Children’s Day,” Zai Ye told her.

Qian cupped her face and looked at her expectantly. “Mommy, did you get me a birthday present?”

Zhang Qinghe: I just found out about this—how was I supposed to prepare a gift?

Just as she was about to ask what Qian wanted, Zai Ye chuckled and said, “It’s fine if you didn’t get her anything. She’s been wanting to sleep with you. Just take her home for the night.”

Qian beamed. “Yay yay! I haven’t slept with Mommy in so long!”

Zhang Qinghe tried to refuse. “I don’t know how to take care of kids.”

Zai Ye: “It’s fine, she takes care of herself.”

Qian nodded enthusiastically. “I’m super capable!”

Zhang Qinghe: You two are definitely putting on a show for me, aren’t you?

This year, Children’s Day happened to fall on a Sunday. The night before, after school, Zai Ye packed Qian’s things into a small backpack and handed it to Zhang Qinghe, then waved them off with a carefree smile.

Zhang Qinghe, one hand holding the backpack, the other holding Qian’s hand, trudged home with a heavy heart.

But it turned out not to be as hard as she’d imagined. Qian could handle most things on her own.

That night, Zhang Qinghe made her Zhajiangmian, just the way she liked it, and served it in a brand-new white goose-shaped kids’ plate.

She had bought the plate a few days ago at the market while shopping for groceries, along with a mushroom-shaped kids’ bowl. Her hands seemed to have acted on their own—by the time she realized what she was doing, she had already paid.

Qian ate with gusto, mouthful after mouthful, not like those kids who eat a bit and then run off to play.

But she ate so much. After dinner, she wanted fruit, and insisted on having it with yogurt.

When Zhang Qinghe took her to bathe, she couldn’t help but worry, running her hand over Qian’s round cheeks and belly—was she going to get a stomachache from eating too much?

Qian squirmed and giggled under her touch, splashing around in the tub. With body wash making her slippery, Zhang Qinghe could barely hold onto her. It felt like trying to wash a plump little goldfish.

After getting her clean and into pajamas, Zhang Qinghe let her lie on the bed to watch cartoons while she went off to tidy up and take care of her own things. But the moment she stepped out of the room, the pajama-clad child followed her like a mobile trip hazard, sticking close to her heels.

At bedtime, Zhang Qinghe worried the child might cry or call for her dad. But once they lay down, Qian sprawled out happily and fell asleep in no time. Aside from scooting over and snuggling up to her in her sleep, there were no problems at all.

As for missing her dad? Judging by how happy she looked, she probably forgot who he even was.

That night, Zhang Qinghe had a string of strange, jumbled dreams.

She dreamed of a sweet little girl tying a silk flower around her wrist.

She dreamed of a somber Zai Ye in a suit, sitting silently on a couch in an office, tears streaming down his face. She walked over, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his face against her.

Then the scene shifted to a large conference room. Zai Ye sat at the head of the table, frowning and furious.

She dreamed of herself bringing a gift to visit a friend in a snowy house—someone who seemed to be a movie star.

And then there was a dream within a dream.

A child’s voice asked her, “Can you be my mommy?”

She nodded, heart fluttering with nervous anticipation.

The dream-child suddenly became real, heavy in the crook of her arm. Then, in a blink, she grew up and could sit and play on her own.

She sat on the carpet and tossed a die. Zhang Qinghe picked her up, and the child snuggled into her arms, holding up the die to show her.

…

Early in the morning, Zhang Qinghe was jolted awake by a little foot kicking her in the side.

She reached over and grabbed the tiny foot.

Qian, who had gone to bed in a neat sleeping position, had rotated ninety degrees overnight—head against the wall, feet pressed against Zhang Qinghe’s waist. The bed wasn’t very big, and one more inch would’ve had her rolling off the edge.

Zhang Qinghe gently set her foot down and lay there, trying to gather her thoughts. The images from her dreams were already fading, leaving only blurry impressions.

Qian, whose foot had been caught, stirred sleepily. She crawled over, wriggling until she nestled beside Zhang Qinghe’s arm, then tucked her head underneath it and drifted back to sleep. Her lips moved slightly, as if she were dreaming about eating something.

Even on holidays, Zhang Qinghe was used to waking up early—cleaning the house, doing laundry, reviewing vocabulary and texts.

When she dragged Qian out of bed, the little girl was so sleepy she was practically upside down, mumbling, “Daddy doesn’t get up this early.”

Zhang Qinghe set her on the dining table and placed a steamed piglet bun and some corn in front of her. Qian, eyes half-closed, grabbed the corn like she was sleepwalking and started munching away.

While eating her breakfast, Zhang Qinghe watched in amazement as Qian devoured hers, then flopped onto the couch. By the time Zhang Qinghe had mopped the entire floor, Qian finally stirred and fully woke up.

Originally, Zhang Qinghe was supposed to tutor a student today, but the student had taken the day off—her parents were taking her out for some fun.

Thinking about how other kids got to go out with their parents on Children's Day, Zhang Qinghe looked at Qian and hesitated.

Today wasn’t just Children’s Day—it was also Qian’s birthday.

“Qian, do you want to go out?”

“Yes! I want to go to the amusement park!”

It was like Qian had been waiting for her to say that. Zhang Qinghe couldn’t help but feel like she’d walked right into a trap.

She packed water, tissues, and other essentials into Qian’s little backpack and sent a quick message to Zai Ye to let him know she was taking the kid out. He replied almost instantly with an “OK” emoji.

Zhang Qinghe had never been to an amusement park in her life. When they arrived and she saw the place swarming with kids and adults, she instantly regretted her decision.

Coming to an amusement park on a day like this? Terrible idea.

But Qian was already charging excitedly into the crowd, and Zhang Qinghe had no choice but to follow, risking life and limb for the sake of a child.

She felt like she was holding onto an overexcited dog on a leash—one that couldn’t be held back and wouldn’t listen no matter how loudly she called.

Three hours later, Zhang Qinghe dragged an still-energetic Qian out of the park and collapsed onto a bench by the street, not wanting to take another step.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She picked up, and a familiar voice said, “Ms. Zhang Qinghe? The cake you ordered has been delivered. Could you tell me exactly where you are?”

Zhang Qinghe blinked. “When did I order a cake?”

There was a pause on the other end. “Alright, I see you.”

Not long after the call ended, a motorcycle pulled up in front of them. A person wearing a yellow jacket and a yellow helmet that completely covered their face got off, carrying a cake and a bouquet of flowers. They walked up to Zhang Qinghe and Qian.

“Ms. Zhang Qinghe, your cake.”

Zhang Qinghe was speechless as she took the cake. Then a large bouquet of pink tulips was handed to her.

“Zai Ye, if you’re giving flowers to Qian, couldn’t you have picked something else?” she asked, looking up at him.

Was this the only flower he ever bought? Was he running a tulip wholesale business?

“The cake is for her. The flowers are for you,” Zai Ye said. “It’s her birthday, but you’ve worked hard too.”

Zhang Qinghe: “…”

That was not the answer she was expecting. She stood there stunned as Zai Ye finished his dramatic gesture, then coolly rode off on his motorcycle before she could even react.

Staring at his disappearing figure, Zhang Qinghe curled her fingers, her hand itching.

Weren’t they only supposed to let Qian stay for one night? Why hadn’t he taken her back now? Why did he just leave?

After resting, Zhang Qinghe and Qian shared the cake, then headed home with the bouquet.

“After dinner, let your dad come pick you up, okay?”

“Nooo, I still want to sleep with Mommy.”

“A person should keep their word. We agreed on one night.”

“Mmm↗ mmm↘ nooo!”

The two of them were climbing the stairs, chatting as they reached the door. Before Zhang Qinghe could even put the key in, the door opened from the inside, revealing Zhang Xihuan’s face.

“You’re back. Where’d you go?” he asked with a smile. Then his gaze landed on the bouquet in her arms, and his expression froze.

His eyes dropped lower—and froze again.

Startled, Zhang Qinghe tightened her grip on Qian’s hand.

It’s fine. Her brother couldn’t see anyway.

“Went to a flower shop,” she said calmly, lowering her head as she changed shoes under his puzzled gaze, then led Qian into the house.

Qian swung her hand and called out, “Mommy, Mommy.”

Zhang Qinghe quickened her pace, but then heard her brother’s confused voice behind her: “Xiao He, who’s this kid? Why is she calling you Mommy?”

Zhang Qinghe: “?!”