Chapter 57 - Family bonding time

Chapter 57: Chapter 57 - Family bonding time

Ying Rui stayed home for the next few days.

The first morning, Mao Mao came downstairs holding Jua’s hand and stopped when he saw his father sitting at the dining table. There was no coat draped over his arm, no suitcase beside the door. His laptop was closed, pushed aside to make room for four plates.

Mao Mao looked toward the entrance before looking back at him.

"Aren’t you going to work?"

"I’ve moved a few things around. I’ll be home for a while."

The boy didn’t answer immediately. He climbed onto the chair beside Jua and watched his father pour him a glass of milk, following the movement with a quiet attention that made Ying Rui painfully conscious of how unusual it was.

Ying Di joined them a few minutes later. He paused beside his usual chair, glanced at the others, and sat down.

With the servants gone, the house felt much bigger.

There was nobody passing through the corridors with folded laundry, no quiet clatter from the kitchen before breakfast. Rooms remained exactly as they had left them. A cup forgotten on a table was still there hours later, and when Mao Mao misplaced a slipper, there was no one to find it for him.

Ying Rui discovered how many small things had always been done without him noticing.

Breakfast alone required more attention than he had expected. He could answer work calls while reviewing documents, but making eggs while keeping the toast from burning proved surprisingly difficult. Jua eventually took over the stove, leaving him to carry plates and pour drinks.

Mao Mao stayed nearby throughout the process. Whenever Ying Rui looked over, he found his son watching him, as though checking whether he was really going to remain there.

He did.

He worked in the study when necessary, but kept the door open. At lunch, he came downstairs before anyone had to fetch him. In the evening, he sat with them instead of disappearing behind another closed door.

It took Mao Mao a little time to get used to it.

At first, he still lowered his voice when they passed the study. He would pull Jua closer to the opposite wall, careful not to interrupt whatever was happening inside. Ying Rui noticed on the second afternoon and called them in.

There had been nothing urgent. Mao Mao had simply wanted to know whether he could go outside.

The realisation stayed with Ying Rui long after he gave permission.

His son had been willing to wander around looking for someone else to ask rather than disturb him.

That afternoon, Ying Rui went looking for them himself.

Jua was near the back door, checking the plaster on Mao Mao’s knee. The scrape was healing well, though Mao Mao continued to insist it hurt whenever anyone suggested he should stop clinging to Jua and walk by himself.

Ying Di stood beside them, holding a ball he had found in the storage cupboard.

Ying Rui looked at it, then at the three boys.

"We could play catch."

Mao Mao lifted his head. His eyes moved toward his father’s phone, still in his hand.

Ying Rui silenced it and left it on the table.

A few minutes later, all four of them were out on the lawn.

The afternoon was warm enough that Mao Mao soon pushed his sleeves up. Jua stayed close at first, mindful of his knee, but the boy was walking comfortably and showed far more interest in the ball than his injury.

Ying Rui spread them out across a small patch of grass. He kept the distance short and his first throw gentle.

Mao Mao caught the ball against his chest.

His face brightened before he remembered to look casual. He shifted it into both hands, turned toward Jua, and called his name.

Jua raised his hands a little too late.

The ball struck his palms, slipped through, and landed at his feet.

Mao Mao stared at it, then burst out laughing.

Jua bent to pick it up, already regretting his participation.

The next few throws went better. Ying Di caught his without any fuss and sent it on to his father. Ying Rui was careful with Mao Mao, adjusting the force whenever the boy complained that he was making it too easy.

Jua managed several catches before missing another one.

This time, the ball bounced off his fingers and rolled behind him.

Mao Mao folded over, laughing so hard that he had to brace his hands on his knees.

"Gege, maybe you should just pick it up from the ground. You’re better at that."

Jua slowly straightened.

The boy saw his expression and immediately began backing away, his grin widening.

Jua took one step toward him.

Mao Mao turned and ran.

He made it halfway across the lawn before Jua caught up, reaching for his shirt while the boy twisted away with a delighted squeal. Jua wasn’t running fast, but Mao Mao’s laughter kept slowing him down. Every time he tried to escape, he glanced back to make certain Jua was still following.

Ying Rui watched them circle past him.

Mao Mao ducked behind his father for protection, then darted out again when Jua reached around him. A moment later, Ying Di set off after them too.

He ran with a completely blank expression.

There was something so earnest about the way he pursued them that Jua started laughing before the younger boy even reached him. Ying Di caught his sleeve and held on, apparently satisfied that he had completed his part.

Mao Mao immediately turned back to help.

Together, they trapped Jua between them, each claiming one arm while he stood there catching his breath.

Ying Rui remained a short distance away, the forgotten ball near his shoe.

Mao Mao’s laughter carried across the grass. Ying Di had moved closer to Jua, still holding his sleeve, and Jua was looking down at both of them with an expression of helpless amusement.

For once, Ying Rui had nowhere else he wanted to be.

He had spent years telling himself that work had to come first for the family’s sake. There had always been another meeting, another trip he couldn’t postpone. He knew how easily a single problem could spread through a business if he left it unattended.

Somehow, he had never applied the same attention to his own home.

Now he stood watching his youngest son laugh over something as ordinary as a missed catch, and felt the weight of how much he had failed to notice.

Mao Mao looked over and caught him watching.

Still smiling, he hurried back across the lawn. Ying Rui bent when he approached, and the boy put his arms around his neck without quite asking to be picked up.

Ying Rui lifted him.

It took a small adjustment to settle him comfortably. Mao Mao helped by shifting against his shoulder, then relaxed with one arm hooked around his neck.

He was lighter than Ying Rui expected.

That bothered him enough that he tightened his hold slightly.

Across from them, Jua crouched to let Ying Di climb onto his back. The younger boy settled there quietly, his cheek resting near Jua’s shoulder.

They went back inside together.

Nobody remembered the ball until much later.

Over the following days, the house began to feel lived in again.

Mao Mao left a book on the sofa and another beside Jua’s plate. Ying Di brought his building pieces downstairs and worked on them near the dining table while the others prepared meals. Ying Rui learned where the clean towels were kept and which cupboard held the larger bowls.

He also learned that Mao Mao disliked certain vegetables enough to hide them beneath anything else on his plate.

Jua caught him doing it one evening and silently moved them back.

Mao Mao looked wounded but ate them.

Ying Rui watched from across the table, storing away the small details he should already have known.

His son preferred the less crispy piece of toast. Ying Di would sit with an empty glass rather than interrupt someone to ask for more water. Jua often forgot to serve himself until both boys had everything they needed.

Once Ying Rui noticed that last habit, he began filling Jua’s plate before sitting down.

The first time, Jua looked up in surprise.

Ying Rui only pushed the plate closer and reached for his own.

He began interviewing new workers before the end of the week.

This time, he handled the process himself.

References were checked, then checked again. He asked about previous households, reasons for leaving, and experience caring for children. Candidates who spoke dismissively about difficult children or boasted that they knew how to make them obedient did not return for a second interview.

The new housekeeper received clear instructions before she started.

Mao Mao’s medical needs were explained carefully. His medication schedule and the doctor’s contact details were placed where the staff could find them easily. If he complained of pain or became unwell, Ying Rui was to be informed immediately.

He made it equally clear that no one was permitted to strike the children, frighten them into silence, or withhold anything they needed as punishment.

Any concerns were to come directly to him.

He gave the housekeeper his number himself, then asked her to repeat the arrangements back to him so there could be no misunderstanding.

Jua’s place in the household was addressed too.

He was to eat with the family and receive the same care as the boys. The staff were there to look after the house and its occupants; Jua was not someone they could pass their work on to.

Jua heard part of that conversation while coming downstairs.

He slowed near the study, his fingers resting on the banister.

Inside, Ying Rui had already moved on to discussing meals. He was asking the new cook whether she could prepare something Mao Mao enjoyed while still following the doctor’s advice.

Jua stood there for a moment before continuing downstairs.

Once the new workers arrived, the house gradually settled into a routine. Meals appeared on time, the laundry stopped accumulating, and Ying Rui no longer had to search three cupboards whenever someone needed a clean towel.

He still joined them in the kitchen sometimes.

Usually, there was very little for him to do. Mao Mao nevertheless found tasks for him, handing over jars to open or asking him to carry something that Jua could easily have managed.

Ying Rui did them without complaint.

By the time his business trip could be postponed no longer, leaving had become considerably harder than he expected.

His suitcase waited beside the front door on the morning of his departure.

Mao Mao noticed it as soon as he came downstairs.

He stopped beside Jua, looking at the handle before turning toward his father.

"How long this time?"

"Three days."

Ying Rui saw the doubt in his face.

He crouched and explained when he would be back, keeping his voice steady and the promise specific. His return flight was already booked. He would call that evening after dinner, and if a meeting delayed him, he would let them know.

Mao Mao listened without interrupting.

Only when his father finished did he reach out and touch the sleeve of his coat.

Ying Rui covered the small hand with his own.

For a few seconds, neither moved.

Then Mao Mao leaned forward, and Ying Rui drew him into a hug.

The boy’s arms tightened around his shoulders. There was none of the easy laughter from the garden now. He held on quietly, his face pressed into the side of his father’s neck.

Ying Rui rubbed his back.

He wanted to say something that would make leaving easier, but he had made too many departures easy for himself already.

So he stayed crouched until Mao Mao loosened his arms.

Ying Di came forward next. His hug was brief and a little stiff, though he remained close while his father straightened his collar.

When Ying Rui stood, Jua was waiting beside them.

"Call me if you need anything," he told him.

Jua nodded.

Ying Rui looked at the two boys, then back at him.

"And make sure you eat properly too."

That drew a small smile from Jua.

Outside, the driver opened the car door.

Ying Rui checked that he had his phone, then delayed another moment to remind Mao Mao not to run on the stairs. Mao Mao nodded impatiently, clearly believing that agreement might shorten the departure enough to make it less unpleasant.

At last, Ying Rui picked up his suitcase.

The three of them followed him to the entrance.

He turned back before getting into the car and found Mao Mao standing on the top step, one hand held securely in Jua’s. Ying Di stood on the other side, leaning slightly against Jua’s arm.

Ying Rui raised his hand.

Mao Mao waved back.

Even after the car began moving, Ying Rui kept looking through the window. He could still see his son’s arm moving when they reached the gates.

He took out his phone and sent Jua the details of his return flight.

A reply arrived before the house had disappeared from view.

We’ll be waiting. Have a safe trip.

Ying Rui read it twice before putting the phone away.