Having finished his nebulizer treatment, Yan Chi leaned sideways against the head of the bed and took a deep breath.
The intermittent crying outside the door had already irritated him to the limit. Normally he would have lost his temper, but his current throat could not squeeze out a single word.
He slowly opened his eyes and frowned as he walked toward the half-open doorway.
Seeing him come out while sandwiched in the bodyguard’s elbow, Chu Zhuo’s head, which had been facing the door, snapped rapidly to the right like a wound-up spring, and he raised his voice defiantly, “Bad guy! I want to go home!”
Yan Chi’s lowered brows and eyes looked coldly at the bodyguard.
He had no idea where Qiu Yuanming had dug up such a bunch of good-for-nothings who could not even coax a child.
He beckoned, signaling the bodyguard to carry the child over.
When he took Chu Zhuo, the little fellow straightened his back like a pillar, crossed his arms, puffed up his chubby cheeks with anger, and very mindfully of his image, raised his upper arm to wipe his reddened eyes.
Compared to his usual self, a silent Yan Chi fit the King of Hell image bestowed upon him by his fans even more.
Even though his complexion looked poor, a powerful aura consistently swirled around him, exuding intense oppression.
The bodyguard lowered his head, took a step back, and timidly explained, “Young Master, the child is making a fuss to go home.”
Yan Chi did not signal the bodyguard to leave with a glance. Instead, he used one hand to straighten Chu Zhuo’s averted head, as if using his tightly knitted brows and narrowed eyes to ask why.
Unable to resist Yan Chi’s strength, Chu Zhuo deliberately lowered his brows and eyes when his head was forced forward, refusing to look at Yan Chi.
After a few seconds of silence, hearing no speech from Yan Chi, he could not help but raise his gaze to steal a glance.
When he saw Yan Chi’s pale complexion, his dark pupils trembled.
He knew that Yan Dad was currently very sick.
Pursing his lips, he pressed against Yan Chi’s forehead. It was burning hot.
“You need to go to the hospital.” Chu Zhuo remembered that when Daddy used to press against his hot forehead like this, it meant he was going to be taken to the hospital immediately.
Yan Chi merely shook his head slightly, then carried him back into the room, took the gift box out of his small backpack, unwrapped it, and pulled out a bear-paw-shaped pear syrup candy for him.
“I don’t want it.” Sitting on the bed, Chu Zhuo pushed the pear syrup candy toward the edge with his small hand.
Yan Dad had not eaten his meal, so he did not want Yan Dad’s candy either.
Thinking that the child did not like the bear-paw shape, Yan Chi then placed the rabbit-shaped, pig-shaped, and flower-shaped candies all at once onto the bed.
Who would have thought that Little Lingjiao, who was not picky about food during meals, would be so picky about candy, stubbornly pushing every single pear syrup candy to the edge of the bed.
With no other choice, Yan Chi had to ask the bodyguard to bring paper and pen.
He wrote the words and had the bodyguard relay the message.
“What kind of candy do you want to eat?” The bodyguard acted as a mouthpiece, speaking word by word.
Chu Zhuo looked at Yan Chi, then at Uncle Bodyguard, and finally scratched his head and asked, “Why is Yan Uncle not talking?”
The sudden change in address brought a silent smile to the corners of Yan Chi’s lips.
Just as Chu Kai easily went from loving to unloving, Little Lingjiao went from calling him Yan Dad to Yan Uncle, and he, Yan Chi, really brought this upon himself.
Back then he should not have confidently professed his love to Chu Kai, and now he should not have pointlessly meddled in helping Little Lingjiao.
Chu Kai had someone he truly loved, and Little Lingjiao had his true parents.
What was he, Yan Chi? Just a self-absorbed outsider.
Gripping the pen, his powerful, iron-hook-like handwriting leaped onto the paper: I was hit by a spell and cannot speak until tomorrow.
Hearing that Yan Chi had been hit by a spell, Chu Zhuo assumed it must be a wizard’s punishment for Yan Chi refusing to eat the breakfast he brought.
“But,” he looked up at the bodyguard, “why didn’t Uncle get hit by a spell?”
Compared to Yan Chi promising to finish the food and failing to do so, Uncle Bodyguard’s act of directly throwing the food away was obviously much worse.
“I.” The bodyguard was momentarily at a loss for words, not knowing how to answer, and could only lower his head and wait for Yan Chi to write.
Before Yan Chi could pick up his pen, he heard Chu Zhuo’s resolute voice: “Yan Dad didn’t eat his food, Uncle threw away the love meal, Uncle is worse. Magic, biubiu.”
Watching Chu Zhuo use his hand like a gun to shoot at the bodyguard, Yan Chi finally understood the reason for this little fellow’s sudden tantrum.
However, that food had been sitting on the table for so long. Even if it had not gone cold, it was covered in dust and certainly could not be eaten.
Yan Chi flipped a page of paper and lowered his head to write: Because Yan Dad did not properly taste the breakfast Little Lingjiao sent, he was hit by a spell. Yan Dad already knows he was wrong, can Little Lingjiao forgive Yan Dad?
After the bodyguard finished relaying the message, Yan Chi pinched the bear-paw-shaped pear syrup candy and held it forward slightly.
Casting an inadvertent glance at the pear syrup candy and then a quick scan at Yan Chi, Chu Zhuo took the candy and generously declared, “Fine. I forgive you once.”
Watching Chu Zhuo smilingly unwrap the packaging while a bright puddle of saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth, Yan Chi suppressed a yawn tugging at his lips and wrote down his arrangements: Take him to the village chief’s house to play with the other children, and bring him back when it is time to rest in the evening.
The calming herbs specially added to his medicine for an Alpha who used running and fitness to vent meant he desperately needed rest right now.
Obeying the arrangement, the bodyguard carried Chu Zhuo to the village chief’s house to play with the children who had returned from completing their tasks.
Once he started playing, all of Chu Zhuo’s bad moods dissipated, and he even forgot his unhappiness with Uncle Bodyguard. At dinner time, he pulled the bodyguard standing by the camera to eat, and when he dozed off leaning against the chair, he did not make a fuss when carried away by the bodyguard.
The next day, when Chu Zhuo woke up naturally, a neatly dressed Yan Chi was sitting on the chair by the bed, staring blankly at an old notebook.
“Mm.” Chu Zhuo rubbed his eyes, half-sitting up with his little belly exposed.
“Awake?” Yan Chi’s condition was much better than yesterday, though his voice lacked its usual strength.
“Yan Dad.” Drowsily, Chu Zhuo leaned against Yan Chi as he walked to the bedside.
“Get up and eat,” Yan Chi patted his round, plump little bottom half-exposed from under the quilt, “It is a love breakfast.”
“Love meal.” Chu Zhuo instantly opened his shining eyes, pushed Yan Chi away, and crawled into the corner of the bed to change his clothes.
The little fellow’s clothes-changing speed was sluggish, yet his movements also looked quite agile.
After watching for a few seconds, Yan Chi turned around and went to the kitchen to fetch the breakfast.
When he brought the breakfast over, Chu Zhuo was kneeling on the chair, leaning over the table to look at the notebook Yan Chi had been holding earlier.
“One.” As soon as he read out the first digit, the notebook was snatched away by Yan Chi.
“Numbers,” Chu Zhuo looked up at Yan Chi and said, “My daddy is also.”
“Eat your food quickly.” Yan Chi interrupted him, tossed the notebook into the trash can, and shoved the milk bottle into his hands.
Dazedly drinking his milk formula, Chu Zhuo still felt those numbers were just like Daddy’s phone number, but he was soon distracted by the bear sandwich and love egg on the table, smelling so good he forgot all about it.
His little mouth was stuffed full, and his gaze toward Yan Chi was glowing.
Using a tissue to wipe Chu Zhuo’s mouth, Yan Chi secretly marveled that fortunately, before dismissing the bodyguard, he had asked someone to help prepare a breakfast identical to yesterday’s, otherwise this fellow definitely would have biubiu-ed him too.