Qiu Chen was at his wit's end with this family—three people under one roof, and not a single reliable one among them.
He hung up Zhong Jin’s call without hesitation, then crouched down to peer under the bed. "Come out."
Little Tong tucked her tiny hands under her belly, her chin resting on the floor as she blinked her big, round black eyes defiantly. "No."
Qiu Chen sighed. "If you come out, I’ll take you to the mall to buy lipstick to save your little hide. Otherwise, your mom’s going to spank you so hard your backside will bloom."
Little Tong’s eyes darted around as she considered this. *Mom would never hit me*, she thought.
But then another keyword caught her attention: *mall*.
Mall meant fried chicken, mini train rides, ice cream, and grilled sausages.
She blinked, then stuck out her pinky finger toward Qiu Chen. "Pinky promise. Don’t lie to me."
With a resigned expression, Qiu Chen extended his hand, his long, elegant fingers looping around her tiny, soft ones—like sealing some sacred pact.
Little Tong crawled out from under the bed and obediently rummaged through her wardrobe for clothes.
She pulled out a pair of thermal leggings with bunny prints. "Uncle, can I wear dis wittle bunny one?"
Qiu Chen, utterly clueless about the functions of her colorful wardrobe, helped her dress—only to accidentally layer another pair of thermal leggings over the first.
Next, Little Tong dug out a puffer jacket. "Uncle, I wanna wear this!"
The result: green bunny-print leggings clinging to her legs, paired with a fuchsia sporty puffer jacket that was slightly too small, its zipper straining over her round little belly.
She admired herself in the mirror, utterly pleased, then dug out a giant red bow hair clip and demanded Qiu Chen pin it to her head.
She even slung her mom’s Chanel mini handbag over her shoulder.
Meanwhile, Qiu Chen—a lifelong bachelor with zero experience handling kids—didn’t see anything amiss. Only when she pulled out the Chanel bag did he pause.
"Don’t just grab your mom’s bag like that."
Little Tong pouted. "Dis one Mommy bought *for me*."
Qiu Chen eyed the bag’s size—indeed, it seemed child-sized—and dropped the subject.
For the first time, Little Tong had full creative control over her outfit, and she went all out.
From the shoe rack, she fished out a pair of fuzzy frog slippers—the kind with exaggerated 3D frog faces on the toes, usually reserved for indoor wear.
Clad in frog slippers, her little Chanel bag slung over her shoulder, and her belly proudly leading the way, she announced to Qiu Chen:
"Let’s go."
Qiu Chen saw nothing wrong with the ensemble. If anything, he found the riot of colors festive—what with the frogs, the bunnies, and the general chaos, it was oddly charming.
The mall’s first floor housed Little Tong’s beloved mini train.
The moment Qiu Chen carried her inside, she started wriggling excitedly in his arms, pointing. "I wanna ride dat!"
"Lipstick first," Qiu Chen said firmly, tightening his grip. "Stop squirming."
When he pinned her hands down, Little Tong resorted to headbutting him repeatedly. "Ack! Ack! *Train!*"
Passersby glanced over, mostly amused by her ridiculous outfit. But Qiu Chen misinterpreted their stares, feeling like some tyrannical parent.
Giving in, he trudged toward the train. "One ride. Then lipstick."
Little Tong held up two fingers. "Daddy lets me go *two* times two rounds!"
"'Two times two rounds'? You can’t even say *four*?" Qiu Chen scoffed. "Count to four, and I’ll give you four rounds."
Little Tong carefully tallied on her fingers: "One... two... *free*... four."
"One, two, three, four," he corrected.
She tried again. "One... two... *free*... four."
And so, Little Tong triumphantly rode the train four times.
Clutching the toy steering wheel, she bobbed her head and waved at Qiu Chen. "Uncle! Uncle! Look, I’m driving!"
Meanwhile, Qiu Chen looked grim. *How on earth are Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng raising this kid? She can’t even count to four properly.*
This was a child of the Qiu family—a future heir to their empire.
A three-and-a-half-year-old who couldn’t count to four? *Unacceptable.*
After the train, Little Tong dragged Qiu Chen toward McDonald’s.
Spotting the cosmetics counter in the distance, Qiu Chen scooped her up and veered toward it. He showed the damaged lipstick to the clerk, requesting an exact match.
Nearby stood a dessert shop.
At some point, Little Tong slipped away and pressed her palms against the shop’s display window, eyes locked on the cakes inside. She squeezed her eyes shut, made a wish, then blew imaginary candles with a dramatic *puff*.
She opened her mouth and took an imaginary bite, chewing as if she had already tasted a delicious cream fruit cake.
Qiu Chen walked over, holding a lipstick shopping bag: "What are you doing?"
Little Tong cupped her hands as if holding a piece of "cake," tiptoeing to offer it to Qiu Chen:
"Uncle, this is my birthday cake. Have some!"
Qiu Chen was caught off guard and chuckled before taking her hand and leading her into the cake shop.
The shop had an entire wall of M&M's dispensers. Qiu Chen handed Little Tong a clear container. "Go pick the colors you want. Take as many as you like."
Little Tong hugged the box and walked toward the dispenser, then turned back to glance at Qiu Chen in confusion.
Qiu Chen showed her how to place the box under the chute and pull the lever to release the candy.
Following his instructions, Little Tong positioned the box and pulled the handle. The M&M's came pouring out in a colorful cascade.
"Wow, it's spitting!"
She pulled the lever again and whispered eagerly, "Spit out more!"
By the time the container was completely full, it was too heavy for her to carry, so she handed it to Qiu Chen.
At the checkout, Qiu Chen paid without batting an eye—1,080 yuan—then grabbed two new jars and found a table for them to sit.
When Little Tong reached for the M&M's, Qiu Chen gently swatted her hand away.
He placed an empty jar in front of himself and another in front of her.
"From now on, we’re having a counting contest. However high you can count, that’s how many M&M's you can take."
Qiu Chen began first. He counted from one to four and dropped four candies into his jar.
Seeing the candy being taken, Little Tong panicked and hurriedly counted to four as well, then scooped four into her own jar.
Qiu Chen then counted to five and took five more.
Originally, Little Tong could only count to four, but now, determined to win more M&M's, she fixed her dark eyes intently on Qiu Chen, mimicking his counting the moment he finished.
Qiu Chen guided her patiently, always staying one number ahead. If she hesitated, he’d casually repeat the sequence.
What started as a game turned into a lesson, and by the time Little Tong finally counted to 100, dusk had fallen outside the mall.
Qiu Chen gathered the remaining candies.
Little Tong stared at the unclaimed M&M's, pouting. "Again, Uncle! I can still count!"
He sealed the jars and tucked them into a shopping bag. "It’s too late now. Your mom called. We’ll count another time."
Little Tong nestled into Qiu Chen’s arms, her round head resting on his shoulder as she pinched his ear and whispered, "Uncle, I kinda like you a little bit now."
"Do you like me, or just the M&M's?"
"I like you, and I like chocwate candies and ice cweam, and fried chicken and sausages, and Sang Biao, and Mom and Dad, and Aunt Liang, Aunt Mao, Sister Shishi..."
After listing off a dozen names, she pinched his ear again and asked, "Uncle, I like you. Are you happy?"
Qiu Chen: "...A little, I guess."
*
When they returned home, Zhong Jin was cooking in the kitchen while Qiu Sheng lounged in the living room, admiring the day’s shopping haul.
Little Tong marched in proudly, clutching her giant jar of rainbow M&M's, and tossed it beside Qiu Sheng. "Mom, have some! I won them by counting!"
Qiu Sheng paused from folding clothes, blinking at her daughter’s eccentric outfit.
"Sweetheart, did you join a secret society or something?"
Little Tong crossed her legs on the couch, giggling behind her hands. "I joined the M&M's Society!"
Qiu Sheng sighed. "Baby, promise me you’ll never let Uncle style your clothes again, okay?"
Still laughing, Little Tong flung herself into Qiu Sheng’s arms. "Mommy, I picked this myself!"
Qiu Chen handed Qiu Sheng the new lipstick. "She broke yours earlier. We got you a replacement."
Qiu Sheng took it absently, setting it aside as she cuddled Little Tong. "Why were you playing with Mommy’s lipstick, hm?"
Little Tong cupped her cheeks. "Because I wanted to wear makeup!"
"Oh, so my baby’s a little diva, is she?"
The two tumbled onto the couch in a fit of giggles, playfully wrestling.
Watching them, Qiu Chen finally felt the reality sink in—his little sister wasn’t the same girl who’d once given him the silent treatment over a ruined lipstick. She was a mother now.
A bittersweet warmth settled in his chest—pride tinged with something like nostalgia.
His memories still lingered on the days when Qiu Sheng would pester him for pocket money, give him the silent treatment over petty arguments, or try to set him up with her best friend—only to yank his hair in frustration when he refused.
And in the blink of an eye, his little sister had become a mother.
Qiu Chen was lost in thought, watching the playful mother-daughter pair, when Zhong Jin emerged from the kitchen, an apron tied around her waist, and called out to him:
"Qiu Chen, if you’re just sitting there, go feed the chicken."
Her voice snapped him back to reality.
With a resigned sigh, he stood up, walked over to the incubator, and crouched down. Scooping up a spoonful of chicken feed, he mimicked Little Tong’s method—using his fingers to brush off the excess millet—before carefully leveling the spoon and pouring it into the feeding tray.
Sang Biao fluffed up its downy feathers, tilting its head and peering at him with curious, beady black eyes.
Qiu Chen glanced toward the couch, making sure Qiu Sheng and the others weren’t watching, then quickly reached out and gave Sang Biao’s soft fluff a few affectionate strokes.
After dinner, Little Tong let Sang Biao out to play on the floor.
She sprawled on her belly, letting the tiny chick perch on her head, then wriggled like a little snake, pretending to slither across the floor with Sang Biao along for the ride.
Little Tong was having a blast, while Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng watched from the couch, their faces glowing with fond amusement.
Suddenly, Qiu Chen asked, "Little Tong, do you know how to say 'chicken' in English?"
Little Tong answered brightly, "Nope!"
Qiu Chen pressed on, "Can you recite the 26 letters of the alphabet?"
"Nope."
His expression darkened. "How do you not know anything? Stop playing and come recite the alphabet with me."
Zhong Jin frowned at his tone. "She’s still little. At her age, she should be playing. There’ll be plenty of time to learn later."
"Seriously, Qiu Chen, you’re such a buzzkill," Qiu Sheng added, siding with her daughter.
Qiu Chen countered, "One letter memorized earns you a thousand bucks. Recite all 26, and I’ll throw in an extra 100,000-yuan study fund."
Zhong Jin paused. "...Well, if you’re putting it that way, I’ll learn too."
Qiu Sheng, meanwhile, beckoned sweetly to her daughter. "Baby, come here and study with your uncle."
Little Tong kept wriggling on the floor. "But Sang Biao wants to play!"
Qiu Sheng waved a hand dismissively. "Sang Biao doesn’t need to play. Sang Biao can study too."
