The dice were thrown by Chu Zhuo, and the tasks were carried out separately by the two of them.
The children’s questions were very simple, but the adults’ tasks were much more difficult.
First push-ups, then baby-rearing trivia quizzes.
The push-ups were fine, but the baby-rearing knowledge stumped Yan Chi.
How was he supposed to know whether to put water or milk powder in first when mixing baby formula?
Seeing the four father-and-son pairs of Wang Zhiling, Jing Yuanwei, Liang Zhuo, and Zhou Hewen all capture flags and leave with their children and photos to find houses, the two intern dads, Yan Chi and Bei Yan, could only scratch their heads in frustration over the quiz boards.
Bei Yan, who was three years younger than the 28-year-old Yan Chi, familiarly struck up a conversation with Yan Chi: “Brother Yan, looks like it’s just the two of us intern dads left.”
“I choose B.”
The answer Yan Chi gave on pure instinct got a passing gesture from the director.
He picked up Chu Zhuo and walked unhurriedly toward the entrance.
Passing Bei Yan, he raised the corner of his lips and patted Bei Yan’s shoulder: “Bei Yan, it seems I’m a bit luckier than you.”
Thanks to this luck, otherwise Yan Chi wouldn’t dare imagine how someone who had never cooked before could manage using an earthen stove.
Arriving at the entrance of House Number 3, Chu Zhuo used his small hand to tentatively wipe the sweat droplets on Yan Chi’s forehead: “Yan Dad, I can walk down.”
Before coming, Chu Kai had specifically instructed Chu Zhuo that if he wasn’t tired, he should walk by himself and not trouble Daddy’s friend too much.
Yet Yan Chi, this Daddy’s friend, didn’t say a word and directly scooped him into his arms. Several times Chu Zhuo said he could walk down by himself, but Yan Chi refused every time.
He didn’t know that Yan Chi was treating him like gym equipment.
Yan Chi had a habit of running and fitness training.
Because packing luggage and the production team’s filming had taken up his time this morning, he simply treated carrying Chu Zhuo while walking as a weighted run.
Only, he wondered how Chu Zhuo’s parents raised their child, because the boy was unexpectedly light.
“Get down.”
Yan Chi gently put Chu Zhuo down and pushed open the vermilion door, his deep eyes searching for the kitchen’s whereabouts.
“Yan Dad,” Chu Zhuo tugged on Yan Chi’s pants leg and pointed at the flag hanging at a doorway, “that’s our room, it says 3.”
Yan Chi’s gaze swept over to the open door with the Number 3 flag plugged into it.
Fortunately, it wasn’t too dilapidated. It could barely pass, right?
Could it?
Regarding the living environment, although Lian Wuchang had given him a heads-up beforehand and he had mentally prepared himself, actually stepping inside: the aged bed, the tacky bedsheets and quilts, the furniture with obvious traces of use, and the dust-covered concrete floor.
These made it hard for Yan Chi to maintain the smile he wore while playing games just now.
He chose to first take Chu Zhuo to find the elderly grandmother living in the main house of House Number 3 to ask for some hot water to brew a bottle of formula for Chu Zhuo.
“Pour water first, then add the milk powder.” Yan Chi muttered the answer he had just chosen, hesitantly pouring the water, and then apprehensively scooping a few spoonfuls of milk powder into it.
After shaking it evenly, he bent down and handed the milk bottle to Chu Zhuo.
“Hot, hot.” Chu Zhuo didn’t take the milk bottle he handed over, instead blowing gently on the web of his own left hand.
Yan Chi reacted sluggishly with an oh, only remembering that the water he had just poured was boiling hot.
He borrowed a small stool and let Chu Zhuo sit in the courtyard holding his milk bottle.
After sweeping the house and changing the bedsheets, he finally carried Chu Zhuo to sit on the bed.
“Alright, you can drink it now.” Yan Chi tested the temperature with his hand and handed the bottle back to Chu Zhuo: “You drink your formula here, and I’ll go make food for you.”
“Mm-hmm.” Chu Zhuo sucked on the nipple, nodding while flipping open the picture book in his backpack to read.
Having tidied up the room and settled Chu Zhuo, Yan Chi believed he could overcome cooking as well.
After all, House Number 3 had electricity appliances available.
Doing chores was a breeze, so cooking should be manageable too.
Yet facts proved that Yan Chi was overly confident in himself.
His rice turned into rice gruel, and his stir-fried tomatoes with eggs burnt into black charcoal.
The old grandmother simply couldn’t bear to watch anymore and guided him to redo a portion of stir-fried tomatoes with eggs so that he and Chu Zhuo could have lunch.
Compared to the buffet breakfast at the hotel, this lunch was indeed hard to swallow.
Chu Zhuo, however, accepted this meal much more readily than Yan Chi, spooning the clumped stir-fried tomatoes and eggs into his mouth one spoonful at a time while occasionally swinging his little legs.
“Is it delicious?” Yan Chi drank his rice gruel and asked with a guilty conscience.
“Delicious.” Chu Zhuo pinched a tissue to wipe his mouth, leaned his body forward, and gave Yan Chi’s profile a smack on the cheek: “Thank you, Yan Dad.”
Yan Chi instantly turned to stone, letting the raised bowl continue pouring rice gruel down his throat.
“Cough, cough, cough.”
Yan Chi covered his mouth and coughed, and Chu Zhuo even reached out to hand him a tissue.
“Thank you.” Yan Chi didn’t understand why his reaction to Chu Zhuo’s goodwill was so intense.
Perhaps it was because Chu Zhuo’s personality, fearful of people yet easily trusting, was somewhat similar to that Beta.
The appearance of the Beta, sealed away for nearly five years, suddenly flashed into his mind. Yan Chi abruptly closed his eyes and shoved him back down.
“Eat up and go back for a noon nap.” Yan Chi’s brows and eyes instantly turned cold.
Chu Zhuo didn’t notice anything amiss, and Chu Kai, who had just finished working and was watching the monitor room under the pretext of delivering food, didn’t notice either.
He squatted in a corner of the monitor room holding his boxed meal, staring intently at the monitor of House Number 3, watching Chu Zhuo close his eyes and fall asleep peacefully before shoveling the food into his mouth.
When he looked up again, Yan Chi, who had just been sleeping beside Chu Zhuo, was gone.
On another screen, Yan Chi was smoking heavily.
Chu Kai’s eating motions slowed down.
Yan Chi used to not smoke, but the smoking action just now looked very practiced.
“Why?” Chu Kai stared at Yan Chi on the screen, feeling an indescribable pain in his heart: “Yan Chi, back then you didn’t touch alcohol or cigarettes for the sake of your music and to protect your vocal cords. Why are you drinking with so many Omegas in bars now? Why is your smoking action so practiced?”
With a child around, one shouldn’t smoke, but Yan Chi was terrified that the Beta would appear in his mind again.
After finishing half a cigarette, he stubbed it out and threw it into the trash can.
“I’m going to take a shower. Could you guys help me watch the child?”
Seeing that Yan Chi was in a terrible state, the staff couldn’t control him and didn’t dare to.
“Brother Yan,” Yan Chi’s cameraman handed a portable pheromone-neutralizing spray to Yan Chi, “your pheromones are leaking.”
“Thanks.” Yan Chi accepted the spray, sprayed the back of his neck a few times, and turned around, leaving the monitor with a decadent back.
Looking at that back, Chu Kai couldn’t help but tighten his chest.
Was the back Yan Chi left with when he walked away back then just like this one?
Back then he didn’t dare to look, and now he still didn’t dare to watch.
He lowered his head and quickly finished the food in his boxed meal.
He packed up the lunchboxes from the people in the monitor room, sat for a short rest in the village chief’s courtyard, and was soon called out to follow the crew.
The afternoon task was for each family to search for the master chef of Pingci Village, prepare delicacies under the guidance of the master chef, and participate in the evening competition.