WRA CH80

New Year was just around the corner.

A light flurry of snow fell over Haishi. Little Guazi pressed himself right against the moving car’s window, squirming with all his might to twist out of the child safety seat. His chubby, milky-soft cheek was flattened against the glass, giving him a clearer view of the world outside.

Why are there fewer cars on the street?

So many of the shops Baby Guazi loved were closed too.

The tanghulu candied-hawthorn grandpa had gone home.

The fried dough stick auntie had gone home too.

Although candied hawthorns and fried chicken weren’t on two-year-old Guazi’s all-you-can-eat menu yet, that didn’t stop him from drooling every single time he caught sight of them.

Whenever Papa Xiang Zhen took him out to play, he would secretly buy the treats Zhou Sicheng strictly forbade, letting Guazi sneak a couple of quick licks. Delicious fried chicken was fair game; so were stinky rice noodles.

It was their little secret.

Baby Little Guazi pursed his lower lip, genuinely mourning for the little foodie inside him.

If none of the shop owners opened their doors, mmph, what was Baby’s Sunflower Papa going to eat?

With the civil engineering industry in a slump, construction sites usually shut down even earlier than usual. The corrugated tin shacks were emptied out completely as the workers headed home for the New Year. Engineer Shen was basically on winter break—starting even earlier than a kindergarten vacation—which meant he could stay home every single day to look after the kid.

Shen’s mother had bought a mountain of toys for Baby Coffee Bean, though none of them were construction vehicles—she was terrified that if her precious grandson played with too many diggers and dump trucks, he’d end up like his father, burying his head in a muddy job site! The educational gadgets she picked out always brought along a hefty, premium-tier “stupidity tax.”

It was totally pointless, though; Baby Coffee Bean already owned the complete series of toy trucks bought by his Engineer Shen papa.

Having grown bored of his toys, today he was far more fascinated by the inner workings of an espresso machine.

The weather was brutally cold, and Bai Qi, being a snake, loved hibernating. He slept a dozen hours a day, lounging lazily and refusing to budge.

The monumental task of looking after their hatchling fell entirely upon Chu Ren. Chu Ren had always been the most meticulous parent; his son was fair and tender, yet compared to the rough-and-tumble way Zhou Sicheng raised his kid, he was noticeably… leaner.

That was a genetic trait, not a failure of technique.

Chu Ren couldn’t believe Zhou Sicheng actually felt safe leaving child-rearing to a robot; Chu Ren certainly didn’t. He packed the little white snake into a “mini-burrow” the size of a dog bed so he could learn to hibernate properly.

Little Bai Chu poked his tiny head out, his expression utterly bewildered: “Papa, does Baby have to hibernate too?”

Chu Ren: “Yes, you do.”

You’re a little white snake who doesn’t hibernate, thinking all day about playing with Coffee Bean and Little Guazi—what is wrong with you? A genetic mutation?!

…

Ever since his son was born, Zhou Sicheng had steadily cut back on work to balance family and career.

By year’s end, he skipped out on business banquets entirely. Xiang Zhen, on the other hand, was much busier… Nothing could be done about it; as the vice-chair of the labor union, he was swamped with sourcing New Year welfare gifts and paying early visits to comfort employees staying behind on duty.

Xiang Zhen had even traveled out of town to an offsite branch.

Leaving father and son at home staring blankly at each other.

The moment Xiang Zhen stepped through the door, Little Guazi came pattering over—thud, thud, thud—hugging his papa’s shins and chirping “Papa!” twenty times in a single minute.

Zhou Sicheng, however, needed his wife far more. He scooped the little rascal up, set him outside the room by the door, and wrapped a broad arm possessively around his wife. Looking down at his two-year-old son, he said, “Good boy, go play by yourself outside for a bit.”

Little Guazi spoke the unvarnished truth: “Papa, the toys are boring.”

Human development of children’s toys simply couldn’t keep pace with Zhou Sicheng’s wealth. Every day it was the same few gimmicks.

Zhou Sicheng brushed him off: “Then go play the stock market.”

He made arrangements at lightning speed: “Little Sunflower Pack, open an account for him and deposit a million into it.”

Little Sunflower Pack: “Right away, Master.”

Xiang Zhen was appalled: “Hubby, are you out of your mind? He’s only two years old—how can you let him play the stock market with real gold and silver?!”

Zhou Sicheng reassured his wife: “Don’t worry. If he loses it, we’ll just file for a minor’s refund.”

Xiang Zhen was struck dumb; his husband seemed shockingly clever.

Baby Guazi was totally dazed. What is trading stocks? Is it a threat that my butt will get spanked?

He shook his head. No-no.

Zhou Sicheng began talking nonsense: “Then go into real industry. Two years old is the prime age to carve out a path! When Papa was your age, I had already co-founded a company with Uncle Fan Hao.”

Xiang Zhen was speechless. What company? A building materials conglomerate, commonly known as a mud-pie syndicate?

Zhou Sicheng kept coaxing the boy: “Papa will give you cars, money, and secretaries.”

Completely taken in by Zhou Sicheng’s smooth-talking, Baby Little Guazi clenched his chubby little fists. Baby is going to build an empire!

Zhou Sicheng: “Go on then. Call up your best buddies.”

Dismissing a whole pack of toddlers in one go—he was basically doing a public service. Shouldn’t the other fathers be thanking him?

Since the toys were boring, let the kid find something to do; either way, he could easily bail him out.

Little Guazi solemnly consulted his Little Sunflower Pack older brother on what “entrepreneurship” meant.

Oh, opening a shop!

Little Guazi remembered the snack shops shutting down one after another along the streets. Oh, Baby is on his way!

He immediately tapped his smartwatch phone to rally his two best friends, summoning them to assemble at Grandma Guihua’s place.

Because Li Guihua frequently played mahjong, her shoulders and lumbar spine had acted up, so her three wonderful sons-in-law had brought her to a top-tier city hospital for rehabilitation.

Her apartment had become one of the favorite hangouts for the little spirit cubs, because Grandma never bossed them around—it was pure freedom.

The indoor heating was blasting. Once they reached Grandma’s, the little cubs shed their thick puffer coats, leaving only snug, pure-cotton long sleeves underneath.

Finding it too warm, the toddlers pushed up their sleeves, revealing their delightfully plump little forearms.

Seated in a circle on the floor, the three exceptionally wealthy toddlers discussed launching a business.

They quickly agreed on one golden rule: pulling off big moves required keeping their papas in the dark. Once their papas found out, nothing ever got done.

Once the babies made a fortune, they could buy New Year gifts for their papas!

A glow of pure ambition twinkled in the three cubs’ eyes.

Though physically ailing, Li Guihua’s spirit remained unyielding as she played mahjong on her tablet. Who could fathom the pain? Around New Year was peak mahjong season, yet here she was, missing from the tables.

Her phone was left sitting on the sofa, and before long, it found its way into the circle of toddlers.

Nowhere on earth did a grandmother exist whose lock screen password could be kept secret from her grandchildren—let alone when she had three extraordinarily gifted grandsons with photographic memories.

The three cubs bent down low, hovering over her phone like young dandies gathered around a cricket fight.

The little white snake struck first, tapping in the six-digit code to unlock the screen.

Little Guazi swiped across the display and found a bright yellow secondhand trade app. Having grown up knowing he had a used car to inherit, Baby Guazi had long learned about the wonders of the secondhand market from his Little Sunflower Pack older brother.

Coffee Bean pressed down on the voice-input icon, enunciating with pristine clarity: “I want to open a coffee shop.”

The very next second, the app’s homepage flooded with listings for secondhand tables, chairs, and espresso machines. There were even people advertising store lease transfers, waiting for the right taker—coffee shops that couldn’t stay afloat, packing up for the year, with owners who might never return next spring.

The three preschool toddlers put their heads together to analyze the options, putting Big Brother Guazi forward to negotiate.

[Auntie, are you there?]

[Baby wants your coffee shop.]

[I am a baby. Make it cheaper.]

With his rounded baby fat, Little Guazi pressed his lips into a stern line, already exuding Zhou Sicheng’s trademark negotiating style at a tender age.

The auntie did not respond.

Little Guazi lowered his long eyelashes, stretched out a tiny finger, and tapped the purchase button without an ounce of hesitation.

The payment password prompt popped up on screen.

“Grandma, Baby is buying something!”

Li Guihua didn’t care in the slightest.

The card linked to her account belonged to the Spirit Foundation anyway, filled with funds deposited by their wealthy fathers. Buy away, buy away; even if they order a mountain of junk food, I won’t let them eat it.

“Thank you, Grandma,” Coffee Bean said politely, tapping in the first two digits of the payment passcode without missing a beat.

Each baby entered two digits. Packed with ceremonial flair!

This is so easy!

【You have purchased: “Son getting married, prime commercial spot sitting vacant for a month, 30-day lease transfer. Direct buy available for serious inquiries. Rent: 20,000 RMB. Full coffee shop equipment available for free use.”】

The coffee shop auntie came online instantly!

The little spirit cubs hugged one another in wild excitement. Hooray! The very first Baby Boutique is officially open!

Baby Coffee Bean pushed his hands against the floor and wobbled to his feet: “Baby is going home to steal coffee beans first!”

Oh, not steal—fetch!

Finishing a round of mahjong, Li Guihua asked, “What did you little ones buy?”

Baby Little Guazi piped up, “Bought coffee.”

Baby Little White Snake: “Grandma, Baby needs to go to the shop.”

Li Guihua figured they had accidentally set their takeout delivery to store pickup.

Fine, a drink is a drink; just have to make sure they don’t choke on the boba toppings.

Li Guihua bundled the little white snake into his coat. Looking over, Little Guazi had already dressed himself, his cheeks flushed bright red from the struggle of pulling his sweater over his head.

“Hey, Little Guazi, what’s the rush?”

Coffee Bean had already run home early, so Li Guihua led her two other grandsons out to pick up the milk tea.

She assumed it was just a shop downstairs, but the store name Little Guazi rattled off was actually quite far, and it was a coffee shop she had never heard of before.

Though slightly puzzled, Li Guihua hailed a cab under her grandson’s persistent nagging.

“I won’t keep you long, I have a flight to catch!” The coffee shop landlady was waiting eagerly at the entrance. She shoved the keys right into Li Guihua’s hands. A big chain brand had opened nearby, bleeding her dry of business; she had planned to shut down once the lease expired in March, never expecting to recoup twenty grand on her final month.

“Sister, I won’t fleece you. I’ve already taken inventory of the ingredients; when the time comes, we’ll just settle based on actual wear and usage.”

Li Guihua: “…”

Little Guazi and Little Bai Chu darted excitedly into the shop, cranked the heating all the way up, and stripped off their heavy coats to make moving around easier.

A short while later, the private driver dropped Baby Coffee Bean back off. Seeing only two familiar toddlers playing safely inside the cafe, the driver left with complete peace of mind.

Li Guihua finally pieced together what had happened. When she heard Zhou Sicheng had actually authorized it, she remarked, “The shop is huge. It’s going to be tough finding experienced staff on such short notice.”

Especially during the New Year rush, when milk tea baristas practically shook their arms off.

The toddlers chimed in unison: “No need, Grandma!”

They would do it themselves.

Step one of starting work: shake up an entire bucket of raw coconut lattes! Piles of coconut water, a tiny splash of coffee liquid. The little cubs crowded around the giant vat, gulping it down greedily until their milky cheeks puffed up round—a single poke and cream would burst out.

Once the staff had drunk their fill, they had all the energy needed to open for business!

The coffee shop swung into lively operation in no time. Standing atop a chair, Baby Coffee Bean peeked his tiny face over the high counter. With his sweet, sugary voice, he was the best-behaved cashier on earth.

Dou Manning had once regaled them with the heroic tale of his and Xiang Zhen’s entrepreneurial venture, embellishing it just a touch: Just by selling plain Americanos, we pulled in three hundred a day!

The toddlers copied their papas’ blueprint to the letter: They would only sell Americanos!

They brewed a giant vat; whenever a customer showed up, they simply ladled out a cup.

Business was slow at first.

Little Guazi and the little white snake stood at the front door drumming up trade, swiftly melting the heart of a passing young woman.

“If I buy a cup, can I squish your cheek?”

The three toddlers nodded solemnly.

Alright, Big Sister can squish once.

Thoroughly charmed, the young woman sat down in the cafe to enjoy her drink, snapping a short clip and uploading it:

[You’ve seen cat cafes, you’ve seen dog cafes, but have you ever seen a BABY CAFE?! Soft, chubby little cheeks lined up for squishing!]

The video blew up instantly. With a bustling, high-traffic commercial street right nearby, curious tourists began flooding through the doors like crowds rushing to claim free grocery eggs.

Li Guihua and the family driver were utterly terrified by the stampede. Wedging themselves across the counter exit to shield the toddlers behind them, they pleaded repeatedly that this was not a “baby cafe,” and no amount of money bought cheek-pinching privileges.

“It obviously is a baby cafe! Why else would you dye the kids’ hair to put them to work?!”

“I want to buy a coffee!”

“…”

Little Guazi, Coffee Bean, and the little white snake stood lined up stiffly against the counter, little hands clasped nervously behind their backs as they exchanged bewildered glances.

Their chubby cheeks sagged under the weight of sheer, solemn gravity—it looked like big trouble was brewing.

Secretary Gao had received an assignment from Zhou Sicheng: play house and help his son dabble in entrepreneurship.

In Zhou Sicheng’s blueprint, Secretary Gao was supposed to draft a formal business proposal first, then guide the child through the execution.

Neither man had imagined that before Secretary Gao could even finish typing up the pitch deck, the kid’s shop had already blown the traffic ceiling off.

The neighborhood police substation received an urgent tip:

Someone is deliberately exploiting child labor to chase viral clout—an utterly heinous violation!

Shortly thereafter, the police swiftly carried off the three trendy little tykes.

Ripped straight from his wife’s warm bedsheets, Zhou Sicheng raced to the police station in frantic haste.

The three spirit cubs had already been questioned for a while. Their statements were entirely synchronized: The babies opened the shop all by themselves! Every baby pressed two digits for the passcode!

As for anything else, they insisted they had to wait for their papas.

The three fathers arrived at the precinct in a breathless panic, only to be thoroughly lectured until every shred of their pride was stripped away.

Zhou Sicheng walked away with a profound life lesson:

Strictly forbid second-generation rich kids from doing business! They’ll send their own fathers straight behind bars!