Chapter 69

Dr. Xiao Jiang was feeling weak after taking the medicine, and Cen Lang, taking advantage of the situation, casually picked up pajamas from the hanger for Jiang Li.

Jiang Li unfolded the thin silk pyjama, somewhat dissatisfied with the less than ideal conditions. “I’ll choose my own,” he said, frowning.

Ten minutes later, Jiang Li blushed. “The underground city is not a lawless place. None of the pajamas you picked passed inspection.”

Cen Lang chuckled. “Then don’t wear one for now.” He lifted Jiang Li and carried him into the bathroom. The bath left Jiang Li so exhausted that he could barely move his fingers.

Cen Lang then placed him on the disinfection counter, saying, “Choose one you like.” Jiang Li rested his head on Cen Lang’s shoulder, too tired to disinfect.

After all that scrubbing, it should be clean enough. Cen Lang, having achieved his goal, let Jiang Li pick a pajama. Annoyed, Jiang Li said, “Can’t you just decide?”

Cen Lang agreed, “Sure.” He promised Jiang Li to stop if he couldn’t bear it. Jiang Li hadn’t taken any military nutritional supplements that night, but Cen Lang had enjoyed two pieces of candy.

As soon as Jiang Li tasted one, he was surprised. It tasted like a nutritional supplement. Although not very obvious, he, with his sensitive senses, felt his energy recovering.

Seeing Jiang Li’s expression, Cen Lang grinned, “Among the pile of candies, only a few contain nutritional supplements. Dr. Xiao Jiang is really lucky.” Let’s do it again.

The next day, when Jiang Li woke up, he was already in the villa, having slept deeply. The little one next to him was also sound asleep. Cen Lang said, “He didn’t cry last night. You can relax now.”

Jiang Li couldn’t always leave work on time due to experiments, and there were times when he had to stay up late to monitor reactions.

Jiang Li: “Where’s Dad?”

Cen Lang: “I sent them away for some alone time.” Jiang Li: “How did you manage that?”

Cen Lang: “I told Lu Dad about the pheromones you emit. It might cause impotence for half a year. Even a mute Lu would have to speak up to take Jiang Li out.”

Jiang Li: “…”

It’s okay; letting Cen Lang handle this matter is quite suitable, especially since Jiang Li finds it hard to bring it up himself. But is half a year too exaggerated?

After resting for three days, Jiang Li, past his susceptible period, officially returned to work at the research institute.

Cen Lang occasionally dealt with matters in the space force, mostly managing the Cen Group on Earth. Lu Jing used up his accumulated annual leave and returned to the army. Jiang Li ultimately managed the Jiang family’s businesses.

Everyone returned to their work routines, with someone always at home to take care of the little one, especially Cen Lang and Jiang Li, who could freely take breaks and spent the most time at home.

Cen Lang brought up old matters with a playful tone: “See the benefits of not having a formal position, dear?”

Jiang Li replied, “I see.”

As days passed, the little one reached four months, and besides formula, it was time for solid food. Solid food was essential for providing nutrients, aiding in digestive system development, and promoting tooth eruption for the little one.

Little Jiang, the stargazer, began showing a worrisome side: eager for milk but uncooperative with solid food, much like his father, who only wanted nutritional supplements.

It was challenging to get Dr. Xiao Jiang to eat a bite of food back then, and now it’s equally challenging to get the little one to eat solid food.

Jiang Li scratched his cheek, relieved that Cen Lang wasn’t around. Otherwise, blame would surely fall on him for avoiding the cafeteria and engaging in unconventional prenatal education at the Tianchen Laboratory. He’d then face some embarrassing requests.

During the introduction of solid food, Cen Lang happened to be at the space base. When Jiang Wanlan fed the child, the little one refused to eat, innocently gazing at his young grandfather. Indulgent Jiang Wanlan only reflected on the food’s taste, contemplating improvements.

Even when Lu Jing fed, the child resisted.

Only when Jiang Li returned from work did the paternal bloodline’s authority make little Jiang Wangxing obediently open his mouth, eating whatever was offered meticulously. Cen Lang, back from space, inquired, “Feeding must be challenging.”

Jiang Li pursed his lips, saying, “Not too bad.”

Three days later, Cen Lang returned, facing the difficulty of feeding.

With only him at home, Cen Lang, holding nutritious rice porridge, had a face-to-face conversation with the little one. He asked, “Do you think I have a good temper? Ask the military dog outside.”

Little Jiang Wangxing giggled, not understanding the Alpha’s threat, thinking Cen Lang was teasing him. The gold bracelet from Cen Wei clung to his chubby hand, creating a clattering noise.

Cen Lang said, “If you won’t eat, a soldier like you in my hands will have to run ten laps on the playground before meals.”

Little Jiang Wangxing innocently looked at his dad, laughing and drooling.

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Little one: Huh?

Finally, Cen Lang ate.

After two months of storytelling, despite the little one crawling everywhere, he hadn’t eaten. Only when Jiang Li’s video was played and Jiang Li watched him did the strongest Alpha’s authority prevail.

One day, Cen Lang served a carefully prepared meal, but persuasion failed. Seeking help from Dr. Jiang, the video call went unanswered. Adjusting his son’s posture, Cen Lang lifted a spoonful of egg custard.

At that moment, the phone rang. Cen Lang turned to check if Jiang Li was in, accidentally dropping the egg custard onto the little one’s table. In the blink of an eye, a chubby hand grabbed the custard and stuffed it into the mouth.

Cen Lang:?

Hmm? How did he eat?

What happened?

Cen Lang looked at the daily high-temperature disinfected table, inexplicably scooped up another spoonful of custard, and swung it onto the table.

Perhaps without touching the ground for even a second, the custard went into the little one’s belly again. After finishing, he looked up at his dad, his eyes shining, clearly asking for another spoonful.

Sure, why not?

Can a son be denied his meal?

Cen Lang chuckled, “Don’t want what’s near your mouth; prefer picking up from the ground, huh?” Recognise your rich second-generation status!

Cen Lang, in high spirits, removed the table, attempting to throw a dumpling on the ground. The little one immediately crawled over.

Cen Lang lifted him up.

Do you know your dad, Little Jiang, has mysophobic? Eating like this, we’re both in trouble.