“Bah blah blah!” The little baby happily blew spit bubbles.
“You’re so messy,” Jiang Lizhu said, her voice filled with affection and helplessness. The little baby was really letting her and Gu Mingyan down.
Gu Mingyan hadn’t even had time to feel upset or anything else before he was amused by the interaction between Jiang Lizhu and the little baby. Although he didn’t smile, his gaze was extremely tender.
Gu Mingyan cooperatively bent down slightly and kissed the little baby’s fuzzy forehead. Lifting his gaze, he met Jiang Lizhu’s beautiful fox-like eyes that seemed to sparkle with starlight.
Gu Mingyan slowly continued to lean closer, then turned his head slightly. His lips lightly brushed against the skin of Jiang Lizhu’s cheek, still carrying a trace of baby fat, giving her an unpracticed kiss.
Jiang Lizhu’s eyelashes fluttered repeatedly. Although she had the chance, she ultimately didn’t avoid Gu Mingyan’s kiss on her cheek.
Her eyes darting around a couple of times, Jiang Lizhu glared at Gu Mingyan. She wouldn’t admit to being overcome by lust. Half-embarrassed and half-coy, she accused, “You cheated.”
Gu Mingyan’s peach blossom eyes were simply too unfairly attractive. In their short time together, they at most had a bit of mutual affection. Gu Mingyan, with his handsome face, always looked at her with such deep affection—he was clearly tempting her!
Gu Mingyan didn’t understand where he had cheated. After a long pause, he said, “It was an advance rehearsal.”
A kiss to make up… This was his auxiliary method, rehearsed in advance for when he might accidentally make Jiang Lizhu angry in the future.
Keeping bad company, Gu Mingyan had also unlocked the skill of “sophistry” along with Jiang Lizhu. This was clearly him kissing his wife and then, afraid she’d be angry, racking his brains to come up with an excuse.
“Ee yah yah!” The little baby, still being held up, flailed his arms and legs, twisting his head back to look at Jiang Lizhu. Then, his embarrassed and annoyed beautiful mother stuffed him into Gu Mingyan’s arms.
Jiang Lizhu got up and went to the desk to prepare powdered milk for the baby. “After he drinks this, he’ll be ready to sleep. You feed him in a bit.”
Turning her back, Jiang Lizhu secretly raised her hand and vigorously rubbed her face, trying to erase the lingering sensation. Then she took a deep breath.
After that, Jiang Lizhu consciously thought about the itinerary seven days later, and all those extra emotions vanished. She felt it was absolutely necessary to make Gu Mingyan learn and master how to take good care of a baby as soon as possible.
“Okay,” Gu Mingyan responded. Looking down at his son, a hint of a smile appeared on his face. His peripheral vision also caught Jiang Lizhu’s futile attempt to cover up her little actions, and the smile in his eyes deepened.
Life is like a game of chess; once a move is made, there’s no regret.
Gu Mingyan rarely felt regret, but in the past couple of days, he kept thinking that if only he could have visited Suzhou that past year, he could have met the real Jiang Lizhu sooner, shielded her under his wings earlier, and known about and welcomed his son’s birth earlier…
Gu Mingyan similarly quickly set aside this emotion. Regret was useless; cherishing the present was what he should do.
They still hadn’t bought a feeding bottle with a teat, so Jiang Lizhu and Gu Mingyan cooperated by using a wooden bowl and spoon to feed him. The little baby wasn’t picky and was also hungry, so he drank very happily.
“Ah, I almost forgot to mention something else. Just before you came back, Lin Mujia’s mother, Fan Xue, came to the East Courtyard looking for us. I didn’t let her in, and I asked someone to take the things she brought to Dean Qin’s place to be donated along with everything else.”
Jiang Lizhu patted her forehead, suspecting she had the forgetfulness that came with “pregnancy brain.” While talking, she had almost let this matter slip her mind entirely.
She recounted it very briefly, not mentioning at all her achievement of making Fan Xue flee in panic with just a few words. The old, moldy stories of romantic entanglements from the parents’ generation weren’t suitable for her to share with Gu Mingyan.
“You handled it very well. There was no need to see her,” Gu Mingyan said, his brow furrowing then relaxing. If Jiang Lizhu had opened the door, he would have had to worry about the Lin family bullying her and their son.
Gu Mingyan thought for a moment but similarly didn’t mention that he had entrusted a comrade in Jinan to help continue the investigation. That investigation might not yield results anyway; it wouldn’t be too late to tell Jiang Lizhu once there was actual progress.
Jiang Lizhu glanced at the still bright sunshine outside the window and suddenly had an idea. “Today is the baby’s hundredth day. There’s still time. Let’s go take a photo of him as a memento!”
Once the photos were developed, she would send copies separately to her birth father, birth mother, and biological brother. She didn’t have Jiang Yuanbai’s specific contact information after he was sent down, but Ruan Yumin definitely would.
Fan Xue had reminded her. Since she had transmigrated, she hadn’t contacted the original owner’s birth mother, Ruan Yumin, or other relatives. Being confined to the house with the baby made going out inconvenient, but her fear of revealing her true identity was another important reason.
After practicing calligraphy for half an hour daily for the past two months, Jiang Lizhu could now perfectly replicate the original owner’s handwriting.
After all, she had been reborn in this world by borrowing the original owner’s body. She would not avoid or shirk the familial relationships and the responsibilities of being a daughter that came with it.
As for the words Fan Xue mentioned about Ruan Yumin intentionally manipulating things, Jiang Lizhu didn’t believe a single word.
During her confinement, Jiang Lizhu repeatedly pondered the plot and compared it with the original owner’s memories. Setting aside those emotional interferences and looking at the original owner’s birth mother, Ruan Yumin, again, she saw her as an extremely rational, modern woman who valued facts and principles.
So-called personal connections weren’t enough to sway her judgment. The only thing that could truly make her violate her principles was the original owner, or rather, her guilt over having lost the original owner.
“A hundred-day celebration… That’s a good idea. Let’s take several photos,” Gu Mingyan had originally rushed to Suzhou specifically before his son’s hundredth day. He remembered the date, he just hadn’t thought of this way to celebrate.
Gu Mingyan looked at Jiang Lizhu, whose smile was radiant, and added, “Let’s take one too, of us.”
Last year, when they got married and registered, they used old photos of each other. After coming out of the Revolutionary Committee, they hadn’t gone to a nearby photo studio to take a wedding picture.
Gu Mingyan only learned later, when a comrade mentioned it, that it was fashionable to go to a studio for a newlywed photo after registering. They hadn’t taken one then, and now he felt it was necessary to make up for it.
“Okay,” Jiang Lizhu nodded indifferently.
The couple acted on the impulse. After changing clothes and picking up their son, they rushed to the photo studio before it closed. They took a couple’s photo, a family photo of the three of them, and individual photos of Jiang Lizhu and the baby.
They would pick up the photos in five days, which was just in time.
…
They were set to depart from Suzhou Train Station in seven days, but since today was almost over, they actually only had six days to pack their luggage and arrange for the furniture.
If Jiang Lizhu had been alone, juggling childcare while packing and arranging large and small furniture would have been far too tight.
But with Gu Mingyan there, Jiang Lizhu only needed to make the decisions; he handled everything else.
On the first and second days, they packed most of the belongings to be shipped at home and transported the large furniture they couldn’t take back to the Jiang family’s old residence in batches over several trips.
On the third, fourth, and fifth days, Gu Mingyan was the primary caregiver. In her spare time between breastfeeding, Jiang Lizhu busied herself at the sewing machine, turning their accumulated new and old fabric into clothes.
Without a sewing machine, Jiang Lizhu might not have the patience to make clothes and bags stitch by stitch. To save effort and trouble later, Jiang Lizhu was willing to be busy and tired these few days.
Jiang Lizhu made herself two new dresses, a set of shirt and pants, and a backpack. She made three sets of autumn clothes for the baby, and two short-sleeved shirts and a pair of pants for Gu Mingyan. The remaining bits and pieces of fabric were made into small clothes and undergarments, with Gu Mingyan also getting a share.
Because she was rushing, all the designs were basic versions – simple, comfortable, and wearable was the goal.
“Throw away the ones you brought back tomorrow. Wear these for now. In the future, I’ll buy you new ones every season,” Jiang Lizhu said, stretching lazily before handing four pairs of plain cotton grey boxer briefs to Gu Mingyan.
The boxer shorts Gu Mingyan brought back weren’t exactly rags, but they were clearly… well-worn and needed replacing. Jiang Lizhu hadn’t felt comfortable making that decision for him before, when she didn’t know Gu Mingyan well.
Now, after nearly a week together, Gu Mingyan had a good temper and was very tolerant of her and their son. Jiang Lizhu, emboldened, felt it was time to take charge of this matter.
“Okay,” Gu Mingyan responded in a low voice. He didn’t think his boxer shorts needed replacing, but these intimate items, specially made for him by Jiang Lizhu, were different.
Even without much marital common sense or experience, Gu Mingyan, as a mature adult male, had instincts. The way he looked at Jiang Lizhu held a warmth he himself hadn’t yet noticed.
Handing Jiang Lizhu some milk that was just the right temperature, Gu Mingyan reached out to massage her shoulders. “You must be exhausted.”
“After we get to the military unit, I’ll find a way to buy you another sewing machine,” Gu Mingyan said, thinking that if he had the chance in the future, he would also get her the other three items from the “three rounds and one sound” wedding set.
“I was in a hurry to wear new clothes,” Jiang Lizhu said, sipping the perfectly warm milk. She consciously relaxed her shoulders and back, cooperating with Gu Mingyan’s measured massage, feeling appreciative of his thoughtfulness.
It was her own decision to use up the fabric in these few days. Fatigue was inevitable, but the sense of accomplishment was also immense.
Moreover, she felt it was wonderful having someone else primarily take care of the baby. She just needed to breastfeed, kiss the baby, and tease the man during breaks – there wasn’t much else for her to do.
After finishing her milk, Jiang Lizhu went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Then she climbed into the bed enclosed by mosquito netting, carefully leaning over to kiss the little baby, who had already been gently soothed to sleep by Gu Mingyan.
Over the past three days, Gu Mingyan had become increasingly proficient with the baby. She only needed to wake up around two or three in the morning for one night feeding, and then she could sleep until she naturally woke up.
Gu Mingyan changed into the pajamas Jiang Lizhu had made for him, turned off the light, and joined her in the bed under the mosquito net.
Gu Mingyan closed his eyes, then opened them again. He turned onto his side. “Asleep?”
Jiang Lizhu, who had been dozing off, slowly opened her eyes. The drowsiness in them was quickly replaced by amusement. She thought there was a perfect word to describe Gu Mingyan at this moment: quietly amorous!
‘Asleep?’ What he really meant was a reminder for her.
Jiang Lizhu’s eyes darted around. She turned over, but unlike previous nights, she didn’t just give him a quick peck and go to sleep.
Hmm, it seemed like last night she had fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow and forgotten to tease him.
Jiang Lizhu suppressed her smile and reached out a hand. In the darkness, she accurately found Gu Mingyan’s face, stroking it gently and softly. She also scooted closer to him, her tone coquettish and a little lazy. “I’m not asleep. What do you want me to do? Tell me.”
Gu Mingyan paused for a moment, then replied in a low, husky voice, “A goodnight kiss.”
Phrases like ‘goodnight kiss’ and ‘good morning kiss’ were things he had learned from Jiang Lizhu. Before this, he had never had such a concept.
The kiss he was reminding her about – he had been thinking about it since last night.
Last night, Jiang Lizhu had fallen asleep as soon as she got into bed. He had wanted to remind her but couldn’t bear to wake her, wrestling with the thought for a long time before finally falling asleep himself.