WRA CH64

After the New Year, Xiao Guazi was five months old. He still looked milky and soft, but the flesh on his lotus-root-like little elbows was quite solid—a completely solid little melon seed.

Xiang Zhen grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze; it was firm yet soft, a texture that rivaled his husband’s pectoral muscles.

When Xiang Zhen was little, before sunflowers awakened their ability to walk, they could only shake their heads and observe the birds and beasts. Xiao Guazi, however, was born with the grabbing, climbing, kicking, and pedaling abilities endowed by his other dad. Overall, he was not a quiet plant sprite.

Zhou Sicheng took off the bracelets he had put on the baby during the New Year to prevent them from becoming weapons swung at his wife. Getting accidentally smashed by a milky little fist wearing a bracelet actually hurt quite a bit.

It was as if Xiao Guazi had been freed from his restraints; he rolled over with even more vigor. When placed between his two dads, he would roll one way and bump into one dad’s waist, then roll to the side and crash into the iron-wall-like torso of his other dad, looking just like a rolling sticky rice ball tossing and turning in soybean flour.

The bed was so big, but the two dads lay far too close to each other, leaving very little room for baby Guazi to roll around.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he shakily and softly kicked up his hind legs, attempting to scale the mountains. The five-month-old Xiao Guazi would one day write in a school essay: A father is like a high mountain; climbing halfway up, I would always roll back down.

In early March, the Awakening of Insects solar term arrived, bringing rumbles of spring thunder.

After enduring the heavenly tribulation lightning, Xiang Zhen had overcome his fear of thunderstorms. However, the big and small ones at home were a different story. Zhou Sicheng seemed to have developed thunder-induced PTSD. Whenever there was a thunderstorm, he became very restless and would rush back home no matter where he was just to see his wife and child. Xiao Guazi, being too young, was easily frightened by the God of Thunder and also wanted his dad.

Zhou Sicheng stubbornly claimed he came back to protect his wife and child, but it was self-evident who was actually afraid.

Xiang Zhen had to coax the big one while simultaneously comforting the little one.

The father and son had different reactions to the thunder. Zhou Sicheng wanted to eat his wife, while Zhou Guazi only needed to be by his dad’s side with milk to drink to be pacified. It was impossible to satisfy both the big and the small at the same time. Zhou Sicheng couldn’t just abandon his thunder-fearing child, so he had to restrain his desire for his wife. With one arm wrapping around his wife, he used his other hand to scoop Guazi up and lay him flat on his chest.

At this moment, baby Guazi was exceptionally well-behaved, his little limbs going soft as he clung to his dad like a little glutinous rice ball stuck to his body.

After a long time, the gentle spring thunder began to fade. Baby Guazi nuzzled Zhou Sicheng’s chest with his chubby baby cheeks. His rosy little mouth opened and closed, sending signals that he wanted milk, gnawing on his dad’s shirt until his drool soaked the buttons.

Xiang Zhen noticed his son’s little movements. “Hubby, the baby is hungry; he’s looking for milk.” Could you make him a bottle of milk?

Zhou Sicheng picked his son up, placed him tummy-down on his wife’s chest, and gave the little cub’s bottom a pat. “Go find your milk. Once you find it, I’ll drink it.”

Xiang Zhen’s cheeks suddenly flushed bright red. What on earth was Zhou Sicheng saying?!

Having his bottom smacked, Xiao Guazi lifted his head, refusing to work for free for his capitalist dad. His round eyes followed Zhou Sicheng as he went to prepare the formula—the milk was in the bottle, he had been drinking it for five months. How could he not know that?

Xiao Guazi ended up holding his bottle and drinking his milk by himself.

Zhou Sicheng changed into outdoor clothes. “Wifey, the rain has stopped; let’s go to the supermarket.”

The Awakening of Insects was the birthday of sprites. Zhou Sicheng had asked Xiang Zhen in advance how he wanted to celebrate. Xiang Zhen said he wanted to spend it back in their rental apartment. Their family of three would go to the supermarket first, then return to the rental to cook, squeezing into the cramped one-bedroom apartment for the day.

The rental apartment was actually a commemorative replica Zhou Sicheng had built in a third-floor guest room last year.

Xiang Zhen felt that on this special day, he should bring the baby to recall past sufferings and appreciate present sweetness. Half of Xiao Guazi’s bloodline was proletarian; he couldn’t forget his roots and needed to know how to live a perfectly ordinary life.

Zhou Sicheng’s understanding was much simpler and cruder: rental apartment roleplay.

They traveled in a BYD and parked in the supermarket’s underground garage. Zhou Sicheng carried Xiao Guazi while Xiang Zhen pushed a shopping cart. Today was a day for careful budgeting. Xiang Zhen needed to buy daily necessities and ingredients to set up their rental, and the budget was only three hundred yuan.

Just a few sips of milk in Xiao Guazi’s bottle cost more than three hundred. He leaned against Zhou Sicheng’s shoulder, focusing solely on drinking his milk, without demanding toys and cutting into his dad’s budget.

As soon as they entered the supermarket, the entire left aisle was filled with various cooking oils. This was Xiang Zhen’s first time picking cooking oil in front of such a dazzling array of shelves. He looked exactly like a sheltered young master who had never bought groceries, completely clueless as to why the price difference between each type of oil was so vast.

For the same five liters of peanut oil, some were 69, while others were 169.

“Hubby, why is the price difference so big?”

Zhou Sicheng replied, “Different brands, different pressing techniques.”

Xiang Zhen took a closer look and saw various labels on the packaging: 5S Grade-One Pressing, Extra Virgin, Grade-One Pressing. 5S was the most expensive.

Xiang Zhen seized the opportunity to praise his husband: “Hubby, you are the 5S type.” His husband wasn’t the kind of ‘S’ that hit his wife, but the ultra-rare, precious ‘S’ card in video games.

Holding the baby with one arm, Zhou Sicheng reached out and grabbed the most expensive oil. We’ve already tried Extra Virgin, let’s try the 5S pressing tonight. Five stages of processing, pure physical cold-pressing, it gives the stir-fries a beautiful color.

Xiang Zhen watched his husband generously grab the 169 yuan bottle; Zhou Sicheng was always this willing to spend money on food. Even though it was his birthday today, the two of them couldn’t eat that much. Because they were at the rental, it wasn’t convenient to invite his pregnant friends over. He just needed to buy the dishes he loved to eat and let Zhou Sicheng cook them.

Pork belly, pork ribs, dried long beans, eggplants, sea bass, noodles, and leafy greens. These were enough to keep Zhou Sicheng busy for the whole afternoon. Xiang Zhen had to take care of the child and couldn’t even help Zhou Sicheng wash the vegetables.

Zhou Sicheng: “Just these?”

Xiang Zhen: “It’s enough, hubby. I won’t be able to help you wash the vegetables.”

Zhou Sicheng: “I wasn’t counting on it anyway.”

Returning home to the rental on the third floor of the villa, they closed the door and began living their cozy little life, the inside and outside feeling like two completely different worlds. Zhou Sicheng’s guest room was already quite large, but after putting in a refrigerator and a stove, it was still cramped.

Xiao Guazi didn’t even have room to crawl. Since Zhou Sicheng was walking back and forth prepping ingredients and could easily step on him, the baby could only squeeze onto the bed with his dad.

After Zhou Sicheng put on his apron, the first thing he did was turn on the TV for his wife, putting on a cartoon and confirming that their VIP membership was still active. “Watch it.”

Xiang Zhen already understood that adults didn’t need to watch cartoons every day, but since his husband told him to watch, he would watch.

Xiao Guazi watched the cartoon with great interest for a while, but soon, just like Xiang Zhen, he abandoned the TV and stared at Zhou Sicheng.

Sizzling sounds came from the stir-frying over there, and Xiao Guazi pointed at the whirring range hood, “Wu—wu!”

Xiang Zhen put on a show of advising him, “Baby, you’re still little, you can’t go over and join the fun.” Daddy is different; if I didn’t have to watch you, I would have been standing behind Zhou Sicheng ages ago.

Xiao Guazi: “Wu!” Wanna go!

While saying “Baby, how come you don’t like watching cartoons?”, Xiang Zhen picked up the cub, got off the bed, and sneakily tiptoed over to Zhou Sicheng’s side.

“Hold him further away, I’m frying the pork belly,” Zhou Sicheng said helplessly.

Xiang Zhen took a step back. He wasn’t afraid of getting splashed by oil at all, but the tender, pale baby sunflower didn’t yet know the danger. Xiao Guazi struggled to get down, so Xiang Zhen lowered him, letting him sit on his own instep.

Since it was a replica stove, it was just as strapped for space as their old rental. Out of selfishness, Zhou Sicheng had installed an extra row of cabinets so they wouldn’t have to put all the prepped ingredients on the floor like before. The jug of peanut oil sat right by his feet, the cap open for him to pour oil conveniently at any time.

Feeling Xiao Guazi’s bottom still resting on his foot, Xiang Zhen comfortably leaned forward to eat a piece of fried pork rib Zhou Sicheng fed him, which was destined to become sweet and sour shortly. Little did he know, baby Guazi, though still resting his bottom on his dad’s foot, had leaned his tiny body forward, his two hands already wrapping around the oil jug.

He used all his strength—the strength he usually used to drink milk—to slightly tilt the jug, but he still couldn’t reach it. Holding onto the jug, he lifted his bottom and stood up. Xiang Zhen lowered his head just in time to see the little cub pressing his mouth right against the bottle opening, which was exactly at his mouth’s height, sticking out his tongue to lick the peanut oil off the rim.

This is a giant milk bottle! And it’s slippery!

Xiang Zhen hurriedly lifted Xiao Guazi up, staring at the shiny ring of oil around his mouth. “Haha, little mouse, loves stealing oil.”

The little oil-thief Guazi licked his lips—tasting everything regardless of flavor—and contentedly curled his eyes into crescents.

Xiang Zhen was puzzled. “You like eating oil?”

Zhou Sicheng’s brain exploded: “Both of you, get to the bed!”

The conditions for raising a child in a rental apartment were simply too harsh.

When the family’s breadwinner lost his temper, Xiang Zhen quickly carried Xiao Guazi back to the bed, afraid that Zhou Sicheng would refuse to continue acting out the scenario. After Zhou Sicheng finished cooking, he made milk for the baby and changed his diaper before the family of three formally sat down to eat.

The table of food wasn’t expensive, but Zhou Sicheng had ordered a very expensive cake.

“Wifey, thank you for your hard work. I love you.” Zhou Sicheng raised a glass of juice.

Xiang Zhen clinked glasses with him, “I love you.”

After eating, the family of three crowded onto the bed, feeling even more cramped. Xiao Guazi looked left and right, then let out a milky burp that sounded almost like a sigh. Zhou Sicheng, amused, lifted him into the air and flew him around. “A dog doesn’t disdain a poor home, you know.”

The Little Sunflower Bag knocked on the door from outside. “Master, Master, Daddy Zhou Sicheng, please open the door, please open the door.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Come in.”

The Little Sunflower Bag opened the sensor door, pushing a very high-tech-looking bucket inside. “Time to inspect today’s child-rearing results!”

Zhou Sicheng placed the little cub into the bucket, where his temperature, weight, body fat, heart rate, and other data were collected simultaneously.

“Temperature normal, weight unchanged.”

After the child was taken away, ‘Doctor’ Little Sunflower Bag pushed the bucket and did a lap around the cramped rental. This time, Zhou Sicheng heard a clear sigh. Heh, none of your damn business, who are you sighing at?

Xiao Guazi actually loved sleeping on his sunflower dad’s chest the most, but as he grew heavier, Zhou Sicheng forbade it. As he continued to grow, he gradually developed a new skill: leaning against Xiang Zhen and peeking at short videos!

The two dads went to work together during the day, occasionally bringing Xiao Guazi along, and occasionally not. By the time Xiao Guazi reached the babbling stage, they mostly left him at home. Even when they brought him, he was left with the Little Sunflower Bag and the nanny. He was no longer kept in the office because Xiao Guazi, in his language enlightenment phase, would incessantly yell “Papa” the moment he saw his dad, stopping only when picked up. He was like an AI baby debugging his language system, needing continuous experimentation to confirm the true meaning of the word “Papa.”

If he couldn’t see his dads, Xiao Guazi would obediently play with his toys. On days when he didn’t accompany his dads to work, their evening time together felt exceptionally warm and cozy.

With a dad on either side, Xiao Guazi sat in the middle. On his left, Daddy Zhou Sicheng was reading a book; on his right, Daddy Xiang Zhen was watching short videos. It was crystal clear whether the one-year-old Xiao Guazi was picking up good habits or bad ones.

Xiang Zhen didn’t mind; sprites couldn’t get nearsighted anyway. But Zhou Sicheng didn’t let Xiao Guazi watch, while simultaneously not stopping his wife from watching.

When both dads were present, Xiao Guazi would play with his own toys, demonstrating superior self-control from a young age. But the moment Zhou Sicheng put down his book to go to the bathroom, Xiao Guazi would cling to Xiang Zhen’s arm, shakily stand up, and press his milky self against his dad’s shoulder to watch videos together.

When Zhou Sicheng returned, Xiao Guazi would urgently let go of his dad, stick his bottom out, and hug Zhou Sicheng’s book, pretending to be a good studious boy. But because the book was too heavy, with a thud, the entire cub collapsed onto the book. “Wu, aow.” Xiao Guazi scrambled up using both hands and feet.

Xiang Zhen couldn’t help but laugh. Spending every day with the Little Sunflower Bag, Xiao Guazi had turned into Zhou Sicheng’s little lackey. Their underlying source code was exactly the same.

He picked up Xiao Guazi and pointed at Zhou Sicheng’s massive tome. “This is a foreign language book; your language pack doesn’t include foreign languages.”

Xiao Guazi blinked his round eyes, seeming to understand yet not.

Xiang Zhen bravely defied Zhou Sicheng’s authority. “Come, Daddy will hold you while you watch.” Xiao Guazi happily sat in his dad’s arms.

Xiang Zhen rhythmically swiped through the short videos. The baby sunflower liked cartoons, and the adult sunflower liked adult videos. He watched one video, then switched modes once. Adult, child, adult, child…

Zhou Sicheng shook his head, feeling speechless at the two of them. Xiao Guazi gripped his dad’s thumb, and when it was his turn, he would shake his dad’s hand: “Where’s baby’s?”

Xiao Guazi didn’t know many words yet. Most of them were reduplicated words like Papa, num-nums, Grandpa, and Baby. At the same time, he had grasped a few modal particles, like “ne” (used for questions). Where’s Papa? to ask what Papa was doing. His most frequently used phrase was still “Where’s baby’s?”, expressing his demand for his two dads to hurry up and pay attention to the baby.

“Right away.” Xiang Zhen showed him a cartoon about a butterfly’s metamorphosis from an egg to a butterfly.

After watching, it was Xiang Zhen’s turn again, watching whatever he swiped to.

The voiceover of this short news video was extremely exaggerated and emotional. [Cleaner Discovers Baby Boy! A disastrous start! Some people are born in Rome, while others are born in a vocational high school toilet!]

Xiao Guazi looked at his dad: “Where was baby?”

“A toilet in Rome!” Zhou Sicheng sneered, slamming his book shut.

Xiang Zhen inwardly groaned—this was Zhou Sicheng’s sore spot.

Baby, that question was totally unnecessary. Next time, Daddy won’t let you watch short videos anymore.

That night, Xiang Zhen found himself donning a pure white, high-slit qipao once again. Just how long exactly must a sprite atone for this incident!