Little Tong had exhausted herself playing by the creek. She dozed off in her car seat, her face and clothes smeared with mud, filling the car with the earthy scent of grass and soil.
Since having a child, Zhong Jin’s germaphobia had practically been cured by her antics.
Back home, Zhong Jin tried to wake Little Tong so she could shower with her mother, but Qiu Sheng insisted it wasn’t necessary. She effortlessly carried the solid little girl into the bathroom.
Zhong Jin lingered by the bathroom door. "How are you going to wash her while she’s asleep?"
Qiu Sheng tossed the mud-stained clothes out of the bathroom. "I’ll hold her while washing. Don’t worry about it—just tidy up out here."
Truthfully, Zhong Jin sometimes marveled at Qiu Sheng’s strength. That chubby child? She lifted her without a second thought. A few days ago, he’d visited Qiu Sheng’s studio and watched her hoist a bundle of fabric—weighing dozens of pounds—onto a high shelf with ease.
Carrying a child every day was practically high-intensity strength training.
Zhong Jin took the muddy clothes and rain boots to the balcony, rinsing off the dirt under the faucet before hand-washing them and tossing them into the machine. After scrubbing the rain boots with soap and hanging them to dry, he retrieved his and Qiu Sheng’s sneakers from the entryway and brushed off the mud.
Once everything was cleaned up, he ran the floor cleaner over the house, paying extra attention to the entryway, which was littered with dirt.
With the house finally spotless, Zhong Jin was about to shower when he remembered the little bamboo basket Little Tong had brought back and the wild vegetables they’d gathered.
He sorted the vegetables, sealed them in bags, and stored them in the fridge—they’d need Aunt Liang’s approval tomorrow before they could be eaten. The tiny insects from the basket were relocated to the terrarium.
Zhong Jin glanced at the door hole, where he spotted yet another toy stuck inside. He fished it out.
After rinsing the bamboo basket and hanging it on the balcony railing, he thought he was finally done—until he noticed the little mining lamp on the shoe rack, also covered in mud.
By the time he finished scrubbing everything, Qiu Sheng called him over to help blow-dry Little Tong’s hair. He cradled the sleeping child on the step stool by the sink, tilting her head back while Qiu Sheng knelt on the floor, blow-dryer in hand.
The hum of the dryer filled the room, but the little chubby girl slept soundly.
The scene reminded Zhong Jin of when they used to bathe Pao Pao. That dog would always fall asleep mid-bath, and afterward, they’d lay him on a big towel to dry. After one side was done, they’d flip him over like a pancake to dry the other.
Zhong Jin suddenly said, "Remember Pao Pao—"
At the exact same moment, Qiu Sheng murmured, "Back then, Pao Pao also—"
They shared a knowing smile.
Silence settled over the bathroom again, the air thick with post-shower humidity and the floral scent of body wash. Only the faint hum of the blow-dryer remained.
After a while, Qiu Sheng turned off the dryer and shook out her hand. Little Tong’s hair was so thick that her arm had gone numb before it was fully dry.
Zhong Jin took over, holding the dryer while Qiu Sheng supported Little Tong’s head. He combed his fingers through the child’s dark locks, lifting them to let the warm air reach the roots.
The position brought them close—close enough to feel each other’s breath, familiar and steady.
Zhong Jin adjusted the dryer slightly, then spoke calmly. "Qiu Sheng, let’s remarry."
Kneeling before him, Qiu Sheng’s heart hammered wildly.
She didn’t answer, lowering her head further so her damp hair curtained part of her face.
Zhong Jin continued, just as steady. "I’ve wanted to say this for a while, but I didn’t know how. I was the one who brought up the divorce, and I’ve always regretted how it hurt you."
"At the time… there was no other way," Qiu Sheng said softly.
"I want to be with you again. Not because of Little Tong, but because I love you. The same way I did before—the kind of love between a man and a woman. I still want you to be my wife. So I’m asking… would you be willing?"
Zhong Jin had always been direct. He wasn’t one for grand romantic gestures—no serenades under dorm windows, no candlelit confessions.
Once, Qiu Sheng had watched a drama where the male lead shouted his love from outside the female lead’s dorm, prompting the entire building to cheer for her to say yes.
She’d sighed at the screen. "So romantic."
Zhong Jin had glanced up from his Criminal Psychology textbook.
"That guy only cared about his own performance. Did he even consider how the girl would feel? What if she didn’t like him back? With everyone pressuring her, she’d be humiliated. And if she was shy and didn’t know how to refuse? That’s just emotional blackmail."
He’d added, "Also, based on cases we’ve handled, men like that usually have fragile egos. If she rejected him publicly, he’d likely throw a tantrum, stalk her, or even escalate to criminal behavior."
After that, Qiu Sheng lost all interest in such clichéd scenes. She never finished that drama.
So this—quiet, private, giving her space to respond—was pure Zhong Jin. This was how he did things.
When she still didn’t answer, Zhong Jin said, "It’s okay. Take your time. This might be sudden for you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here."
Little Tong’s hair was finally dry. Zhong Jin turned off the dryer, set it aside, and lifted the child into his arms.
Before leaving the bathroom, he paused and looked back. "If you don’t want to say yes, that’s fine too. I’ll just court you all over again."
Little Tong tilted her head, her long hair swaying as she sleepily opened her eyes. "No more chasing… my neck hurts."
Zhong Jin: "…When did you wake up?"
The little girl rested her heavy head against his chest, using his hand as a pillow, and immediately dozed off again.
Zhong Jin had promised Qiu Sheng time to think, so he didn’t press for an answer. Life carried on as usual—work, weekends spent swimming or bug-catching.
On the day Qiu Sheng's studio released their first video, Zhong Jin, acting in his capacity as "brother-in-law," sent over a cake, champagne, and flowers to celebrate.
Tian Er popped open the champagne. Since Zhong Jin had started treating himself as "medicine," he'd quit smoking and drinking, but this time, he made an exception and took a small sip.
During the studio celebration, Ming Yan's new girlfriend was also present—a stunning print model who was quite the expert at acting coy, even insisting that Ming Yan feed her cake.
Zhong Jin fumed inwardly, That dog Ming Yan really is a playboy.
When he turned and noticed Qiu Sheng glancing in their direction, Zhong Jin scooped up a spoonful of cake and fed it to her. Qiu Sheng pursed her lips around the bite, her ears instantly turning red.
Meanwhile, Little Tong sat by herself, devouring cake in big mouthfuls. Seeing Zhong Jin feed Qiu Sheng, she dug out a spoonful and turned to offer it to him. "Daddy, ah—"
Zhong Jin obediently opened his mouth and ate the cake she handed him.
Tian Er watched enviously, clasping her hands together. "I don’t envy people being fed by others, but I do envy anyone fed by Little Tong. Tong Bao, can you feed me too?" She even held out her own spoon. "Use my spoon!"
Little Tong waved her off. "No more, no more! I already ate all the cake that fell on the table."
Zhong Jin: "..."
Little Tong’s talent for embarrassing her father didn’t stop there. Another time, Qiu Chen was testing her English listening skills, only to find she’d learned next to nothing—aside from a few food-related words, she had no clue what anything meant.
Qiu Chen had no choice but to give her an impromptu online English lesson. Normally, Little Tong’s online tutor was gentle, patiently redirecting her even when she zoned out. But Qiu Chen was strict—no dozing off, no snacking, and definitely no cuddling with Sang Biao during class.
Halfway through the lesson, bored out of her mind, Little Tong propped her chin on her hands and stared at Qiu Chen, launching into chatterbox mode. "Uncle, why aren’t you married yet?"
Qiu Chen: "Focus on the lesson. Can you not get distracted?"
"Uncle, since you’re not married, you don’t have your own kids, so you just spend all your time bossing me around, right?"
Qiu Chen: "That’s not true. Even if I had kids, I’d still look after you because you’re family—my precious little one."
Little Tong used two fingers to stretch her eyelids wide, eyes bulging. "Do you like my aunt? Is that why you want to marry her?"
Qiu Chen fell abruptly silent.
The little blabbermouth rambled on. "You should go after her, like how Daddy chased Mommy. He even declared he’d win her back all over again while she was showering!"
Qiu Chen’s mind conjured the image: Zhong Jin mid-shower, suddenly overcome with dramatic fervor, pressing his silhouette against the fogged glass door and shouting hoarsely, "Qiu Sheng, I love you! I’m going to pursue you all over again!"
How absurd was that?
Had he been drunk?
But he quit drinking, didn’t he?
Qiu Chen ended up completely derailed, and the lesson fizzled out unfinished.
Later, he pressed Little Tong for details on how she’d figured out his feelings for her aunt. True to form, the little sieve spilled everything: she’d overheard her parents talking about it in the car.
That’s how Qiu Chen learned why Zhong Jin had suddenly turned into such a doting "dad"—he’d been worried Qiu Chen was stuck in the past and wanted to encourage him to meet new people.
But Qiu Chen never brought it up with Zhong Jin afterward. Some things didn’t need to be said aloud; their warmth was better kept in the heart. Whenever Zhong Jin—usually so reserved—fussed over him, Qiu Chen found immense comfort in that face so much like Zhong Yan’s.
Once, though, Qiu Chen slipped up and teased Zhong Jin: Next time you confess your love, maybe do it clothed and dignified, not mid-shower.
Zhong Jin was so furious he nearly cut ties, ignoring Qiu Chen’s calls for over a week.
As for whether Little Tong got a scolding from her dad over it, Qiu Chen never found out.
