Late at night.

Little Sweet Potato.

In the trending topics related to “The Baby is Superman,” the comment section for “Ming Zai Father and Son” featured a tourist photo.

momo: [Ladies, big data pushed this to me! Am I seeing things? Isn’t that the handsome guy with the black mask in the distance?]

The photo was taken by a tourist with a selfie stick. The poster blurred the tourist’s face and circled a group of people behind them in red.

The group was heading towards a hotel entrance, the tallest being a man with glasses and a mask, seen in profile. Behind him, several assistant-like people were pushing three oversized suitcases.

[Which hotel was this taken at? What tourist? I don’t get it, did someone run into him?]

momo: [Oops, I posted too fast. Forgot to mention, the hotel is near the second episode of “The Baby is Superman,” and the tourist’s homepage also has photos from the costume street at the film city.]

[Wait, can you zoom in on the photo? Don’t those suitcases look familiar?]

momo: [Wow, they really are the same as the ones used by Ming Zai father and son in the two episodes! Wow, big data is amazing!]

[Did you use a microscope to see that? Incredible.]

[But is this handsome guy the Bo Family big shot from the Sino-French event? What if it’s just someone who looks like him?]

[That commanding walk and the way he stands out even in a crowd, plus the black shirt, mask, and glasses… if that’s not the same person, I’ll bite Ming Zai.]

[Ming Zai: ? What does this have to do with me!]

[Ugh, can’t a gentle beauty have a gentle CEO? I refuse such a fierce-looking man!]

[Ming Zai described Big Dad teaching him skiing and horseback riding, sounds like Big Dad is quite strong, hehe.]

[Putting the wife and the handsome guy with the bite guard together is really intriguing! What if! Ahhh, let me fangirl a bit.]

—

At dawn, in the hotel.

The screen projection hadn’t been turned off. 

Bo Tingyuan woke from a nightmare, immediately looking at the sleeping figure on the screen, his racing heart calming down. The nightmare faded like mist slowly dissipating.

Bo Tingyuan’s nerves gradually relaxed, realizing his left hand had been pressing on the cover of a poetry book. He picked up the book, noticing the bent cover, and smoothed it out, but a deep crease remained. 

Clearly, it was caused by his hand pressing on it while he slept. 

Bo Tingyuan was about to call Albert when he noticed the time: 4:30 AM. He turned off his phone and smoothed the book cover again. The corner, stubbornly playful, refused to stay flat.

—

Around nine, Albert came to relay some invitations from the program group.

“A big-budget costume drama crew wants to invite Mr. Wen for a cameo role, lasting a week. A professional equestrian leather brand hopes to invite the young master for an ad shoot, and two magazines want to shoot a dual cover. There are also some variety shows offering high pay.”

Albert, recently acting as the agent for Wen Cishu and Bo Yiming, found it quite manageable. Compared to the tense and complex tasks assigned by Mr. Bo, the entertainment industry’s trivial matters seemed light and fun.

Bo Tingyuan sipped his coffee, “Hmm, I’ll pass it on after the show ends.”

Albert silently wondered, so did Mr. Bo really pass it on last week? He thought Mr. Bo had directly declined on behalf of Mr. Wen.

Bo Tingyuan placed his distinct hand on the poetry book, “Find time this morning to buy me another copy of this book.”

Albert noticed the bent cover. He reached to check the publication info, but Mr. Bo didn’t let go.

“Mr. Bo?”

Bo Tingyuan paused, then opened the book to the info page, “Take a photo.”

Albert immediately understood this book was special, not for just anyone to touch. No wonder Mr. Bo quickly took it when he placed the documents yesterday. He thought Mr. Bo was subtly hinting at cultivating a new interest.

—Indeed, serving a king is like serving a tiger.

Albert photographed the book’s CIP data. As Mr. Bo’s long-time all-purpose assistant, he had countless connections. When he sent the book info to a friend, he received a quick reply.

[You want me to find a brand-new out-of-print book?]

[Why not have me bring the author from France for you?]

Albert: “…”

Bo Tingyuan looked up, seeing his assistant staring at the phone. “Is the information unclear?”

Albert had to be honest, “This book is out of print, it might take some time.”

Bo Tingyuan glanced at the book beside his coffee saucer. “Hmm, as soon as possible.”

Albert heard his friend’s reply: Why not have me bring the author from France for you?

Just then, Bo Yiming’s voice came from the screen, prompting Albert to leave quickly.

“Wait.”

Albert stopped, turning immediately, “Mr. Bo, anything else?”

Bo Tingyuan shifted his gaze from his son’s face to Albert, “Settle the farm matters today.”

“Okay.”

Albert breathed a sigh of relief, glad it wasn’t a specific “book-buying deadline.”

Before leaving, he glanced at the creased poetry book, hearing Mr. Wen’s voice from the show, and suddenly realized: Oh~~ so Mr. Bo damaged Mr. Wen’s book.

—

On the show.

Bo Yiming woke first, observing his little dad’s sleeping face for a while. Like a little animal cub, he gently sniffed and snuggled, his face full of peace and happiness.

Wen Cishu opened his eyes to see the adorable Little Monkey, still groggy, and hugged him, kissing his forehead, “Good morning, my sweet Ming Ming baby.”

Bo Yiming shyly nestled in his little dad’s arms, “Little Dad, can I have a good morning kiss and a good night kiss every day? Please?”

“Of course~” Wen Cishu agreed, “Every day!”

This made Bo Yiming extra happy, jumping up and doing a wiggly dance on the bed. 

The bed was a bit hard, so Wen Cishu wasn’t too affected, slowly waking up and watching Little Monkey wiggle around.

“Little Dad, can you do the wiggly dance?”

Bo Yiming saw his little dad get up and went to pull him, “It’s like this…”

He leaned forward, sticking out his butt, wiggling his waist and lifting his feet in rhythm.

“Nope~”

Wen Cishu picked up a hair tie from the bedside, tying his long black hair behind him.

Bo Yiming knelt on the soft blanket, pouting, “Little Dad, you can. You and Big Dad danced so well at Grandpa’s birthday~ I even took pictures.”

[First episode, Grandpa’s call, both dads went? Wow~]

[Photos?? Where? Ming Zai, let me see~]

[Both dads dancing?? I want to see!]

Wen Cishu, surprised, turned and pinched his cheek, pretending to be stern, “Photos? Hand them over!”

But he was usually so gentle that even when pretending to be stern, he wasn’t intimidating at all.

Bo Yiming rolled up the blanket edge, turning himself into a sushi roll, happily saying, “No! I want to keep them for myself! Hehe~”

Wen Cishu, quick-eyed, grabbed the watch by his pillow, waving it in front of him, “They’re in the watch, right?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh—”

The Little Monkey in the sushi roll frantically wriggled out of the blanket.

Wen Cishu quickly got out of bed, jogging into the bathroom, peeking out with half his face, smiling, “Dad’s just taking a look! Be good.”

With that, he closed the door.

Bo Yiming hadn’t freed himself from the tightly wrapped blanket, sitting on the bed like a half-unwrapped zongzi. 

His eyes glazed over, drooping, he clumsily turned to the nearest camera, puffing his cheeks in a pitiful complaint.

“See that~ My little dad bullied me~ Boo~ hoo hoo~”

With that, he flopped onto the bed, his bare feet wiggling in the air.

[Ming Zai, we’re here! Not that camera, hey hey~]

[This made my morning so happy~ Ming Zai is too cute, hug!]

[You’re nine and still acting cute?! (Let me pinch those handsome cheeks~]

[mommy~ mommy~ I want to see the photos too, wah wah~ crying]

In the bathroom.

Just as Wen Cishu was about to open the watch’s photo album, he realized there might be other things Little Monkey took that he might not want his dad to see. 

Thinking it over, he decided to go out and handed the watch back, “Alright, Dad didn’t look. Send it to Dad’s phone later, okay?”

“Hmm?” Bo Yiming sat up, blinking, “Why?”

Wen Cishu helped him unwrap the blanket, asking back, “There are probably a lot of other photos in there, right?”

Bo Yiming shook his head, “No, I didn’t take much. Little Dad, you can look.”

He offered it to his little dad.

Wen Cishu insisted on being an understanding parent, “No, no, Dad won’t look.”

Bo Yiming got anxious, hugging his little dad’s arm, “No! Little Dad must look!”

[Didn’t want him to look, now he has to? You two are too much.]

[At nine, it’s okay for adults to check the album, right? It’s supposed to be supervised.]

[Kids at nine are quite aware, if not allowed, better not to look without permission.]

As they tugged, the watch screen unexpectedly lit up.

Father and son leaned in, seeing a new message pop up.

[The dragon knight Big Dad who took the little shell cake (〃＞皿＜)]: [Yiming, it’s getting late, go have breakfast with your little dad first.]

Seeing the message, they exchanged a glance, silently getting up to put on their shoes.

“Yiming, I’m going to freshen up.”

“Little Dad, I’m changing clothes.”

In unison, they then moved separately, like two robots receiving clear instructions.

[Did the program group prompt them through the watch? Other guests are just waking up, Rongrong and Xiao Qi are still in bed.]

[Stroking chin, seems like Ming Zai’s Big Dad.]

[Ming Zai’s Big Dad must have scolded them, wah wah, wife and baby are so cute, no scolding! Makes me mad.]

[But if mommy’s health isn’t good, better not stay hungry too long, right?]

[Wow, new perspective! I was too happy watching, forgot about that. As expected of Big Dad, thinking big.]

[What’s big about it! Clearly cares about wife’s health~]

In the teahouse’s small kitchen.

Zhu Wei was already preparing breakfast. 

Last night, while cooking dinner, Zhou Xu intentionally left some ingredients.

When Wen Cishu entered the kitchen, he saw the steaming pot and Zhu Wei’s figure, “Sister Wei, you’re up early?”

Zhu Wei smiled, “I slept early last night. You’re just in time, the porridge is ready.”

“I’ll serve it.”

Wen Cishu washed his hands again and went to get bowls.

In the steamer, there were also steamed eggs.

Zhu Wei quickly stir-fried some pickled vegetables and edamame, dividing it into two portions, one with a bit of chopped green pepper.

The room was filled with a homely atmosphere.

As Wen Cishu placed the porridge bowls on the table, he thought, if Bo Tingyuan joined the show, could they briefly enjoy such a lively life?

But would Bo Tingyuan appear on a variety show?

Then, Wen Cishu recalled Bo Tingyuan holding that book before bed last night.

If he asked, Bo Tingyuan would probably reluctantly agree. But he didn’t want Bo Tingyuan to do things “reluctantly” because of him.

Then, Wen Cishu saw Bo Yiming squatting with Xingxing, counting ants through the open door.

He couldn’t help but nod thoughtfully.

—Hmm, it’s time for Little Monkey to handle some major family issues.