“When that piercing whistle had just faded away,
I walked along the path toward the shade of the trees.
The gentle breeze kept blowing, beneath the thick canopy of the hawthorn trees,
The wind tousled the hair of the young lathe worker and the blacksmith.”
Don’t get the wrong idea—this isn’t some modern poem, but the lyrics to a song. The song is called “The Hawthorn Tree,” born in the Soviet Union in 1953, depicting the life, work, and love of young factory workers.
Lin Qiao had just given birth, making her the hero of the entire Shen family. Shen Qingzhou was deeply concerned for her health and indulged her every wish. That’s why he was now singing to her.
Shen Qingzhou had a great voice, something Lin Qiao had known since they first met. His speaking voice was deep and melodious, and his singing was no less impressive than a professional singer’s. Even without accompaniment, his a cappella singing stood out with its clarity and depth. Lin Qiao stared at him, eyes wide, listening as he sang a short excerpt from “The Hawthorn Tree,” then couldn’t help but praise, “That’s so beautiful.”
Holding Lin Qiao’s hand beneath the blanket, Shen Qingzhou glanced at the IV bottle. There was just a little left. After it finished, they could check out of the hospital in the afternoon.
“Still hurting?” He didn’t comment on his singing, only concerned about her wound.
Lin Qiao shook her head. “Not anymore. I just said it hurt earlier because I wanted you to sing for me.” She gave him a mischievous smile.
Shen Qingzhou raised an eyebrow, his handsome, aloof face briefly flashing a hint of something dangerous. Lin Qiao instinctively pulled the blanket up, avoiding his gaze. But his soft command—”Don’t move”—made her surrender instantly.
“Okay,” she readily agreed, smiling gently.
Shen Qingzhou opened his mouth to say something when suddenly the baby in the crib began crying. Lin Qiao immediately turned anxiously toward the sound, and Shen Qingzhou let go of her hand and walked over to the crib to check on the baby.
“She’s wet,” Shen Qingzhou said with an odd expression, awkwardly picking the baby up and trying to change her diaper. Lin Qiao watched his stiff movements with concern, wondering if she should call Xie Jiayi to handle it instead. But she was afraid it might bruise the ego of the new father, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
Luckily, although Shen Qingzhou was clearly inexperienced, he eventually managed to change the diaper successfully, with no major mishaps.
After watching him finish, Lin Qiao sighed and suggested, “Maybe we should just use disposable diapers. It’s easier and we wouldn’t have to change them so often.”
“No,” Shen Qingzhou replied flatly.
“Why not?” she asked, puzzled.
“When the loud whistle had just faded,
I walked along the path toward the tree.
The gentle breeze blew ceaselessly through the dense hawthorn leaves,
Ruffling the hair of the young turner and the blacksmith.”
Don’t misunderstand—this isn’t modern poetry but lyrics from a song. The song is titled “Hawthorn Tree,” born in the Soviet Union in 1953, depicting the production, life, and love of factory youth.
Lin Qiao had just given birth and was considered the great benefactor of the entire Shen family. Shen Qingzhou, deeply concerned for her well-being, granted her every wish. So, at that moment, he was singing to her.
Shen Qingzhou had a beautiful voice, something Lin Qiao had known since they first met. His low, melodious tone when speaking was no less captivating when he sang. Even without accompaniment, his a cappella singing highlighted the clarity and depth of his voice. Lin Qiao watched him intently, not blinking, as he finished a short segment of “Hawthorn Tree.” She couldn’t help but praise, “It sounds so beautiful.”
Shen Qingzhou held Lin Qiao’s hand beneath the blanket, glanced at the IV bottle—almost empty—and knew they could check out of the hospital that afternoon.
“Does it still hurt?” He avoided discussing the singing, focusing only on her wound.
Lin Qiao shook her head. “It stopped hurting a long time ago. I only said it hurt earlier because I wanted you to sing for me.” A sly smile played on her lips.
Shen Qingzhou raised an eyebrow, a hint of danger flickering across his handsome yet aloof face. Lin Qiao instinctively pulled the blanket higher, avoiding his gaze. But his soft command, “Don’t move,” made her surrender immediately.
“Okay,” she agreed readily, relaxing into a gentle smile.
Just as Shen Qingzhou was about to say something else, their daughter in the crib suddenly began to cry. Lin Qiao immediately grew tense, turning to look. Shen Qingzhou released her hand and walked to the crib, carefully checking why the baby was crying.
“She’s wet,” Shen Qingzhou said with a strange expression, picking up the child and clumsily attempting to change her diaper. Lin Qiao watched his stiff movements, worried about whether he could manage it properly. She considered suggesting they ask Xie Jiayi to do it instead but held back, not wanting to discourage the new father.
Fortunately, although Shen Qingzhou was inexperienced, he eventually succeeded, albeit with some difficulty.
After he finished, Lin Qiao couldn’t help but sigh. “Maybe we should just use diapers. It’s more convenient and doesn’t require constant changing.”
Shen Qingzhou looked at her and said, “No.”
“Why not?” she asked, puzzled.
“Diapers might be easier for adults, but they’re not good for the baby. They’re uncomfortable and unhygienic when left on for too long. Let’s use cloth diapers—Mom prepared plenty.”
Shen Qingzhou placed the child back in the crib and bent down, facing sideways to play with the baby. From Lin Qiao’s angle, she could see his gentle and refined profile.
People often say that focused men are the most attractive, but Lin Qiao always believed that a usually cold man becoming tender was truly captivating.
Shen Qingzhou’s current demeanor, seemingly capable of包容一切 (tolerating everything), made her, a married mother who hadn’t been intimate with her husband for a long time, feel restless with desire.
Sensing the intense gaze from behind, Shen Qingzhou turned to look at her. His eyes, half-lidded and ambiguous, roamed over her. Every seemingly accidental glance made Lin Qiao’s heart race wildly. Especially when he finally withdrew his gaze and looked down at their daughter with tender, spring-like eyes, it left her mouth dry and parched.
“Is the baby awake?”
Xie Jiayi’s arrival interrupted the silent tension between them. She carried lunch in her hands, closing the door casually as she entered the room.
Today, she looked different. Since the day the child was born, Xie Jiayi had stopped wearing high heels and abandoned her expensive, ever-changing socialite outfits. Instead, she wore simple, comfortable pants and a shirt, paired with flat shoes. Her long hair was tied up high, and she wore no makeup—clearly prioritizing the baby’s comfort.
Lin Qiao had just given birth and, although she recovered quickly due to a natural delivery, she still couldn’t care for the child entirely on her own. Her mother had passed away years ago, so Xie Jiayi’s help was essential at this time.
Xie Jiayi set down the lunch, sent Shen Qingzhou to accompany Lin Qiao, and stationed herself by the crib to watch the baby. The moment the child saw her beautiful grandmother, she stopped crying and began babbling happily, playing with her.
Shen Qingzhou sat by the hospital bed next to Lin Qiao, his eyes fixed on Xie Jiayi and the child as if deep in thought. Lin Qiao, feeling neglected by her handsome husband, grew a bit jealous. She grabbed his hand with her free arm (the one not hooked to an IV) and dug her nails into him.
Shen Qingzhou suddenly turned to look at her. Sunlight spilled onto his face, making his eyelashes glitter. Long, curled lashes fluttered like butterfly wings under the light, shimmering with a beautiful golden hue.
He slowly clasped her hand in return, his temperament seeming exceptionally gentle. His pale fingers curled slightly, tracing the lines of her palm, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
…Once she recovered, she would definitely teach this rascal a lesson.
Lin Qiao gritted her teeth, suppressing the urge to tear his clothes off, and turned away angrily, exhaling sharply.
Being able to look but not touch was worse than not looking at all—it was pure torture.
Shen Qingzhou, ever perceptive, could easily guess Lin Qiao’s unspoken thoughts. He didn’t call her out on it, instead gently massaging and stroking her small hand. Leaning back in his chair, he half-closed his eyes, lost in thought, not even mentioning eating.
He had many things to ponder, his mind filled with plans, his brain working at full capacity. But Lin Qiao, as a new mother, had fewer concerns. Earlier, she hadn’t noticed, but now that Xie Jiayi had brought lunch, her stomach began to growl.
“Hey,” Lin Qiao called out to Shen Qingzhou. “I’m hungry. Stop spacing out and bring the food.”
Xie Jiayi heard her and immediately turned around. “Exactly, Qingzhou, why are you just sitting there? Quickly get Qiaoqiao her meal. I made porridge, eggs, and crucian carp soup—it’s good for calcium and lactation.”
Shen Qingzhou obediently fetched the lunch, selecting what Lin Qiao wanted and bringing it to her.
Lin Qiao took the bowl of crucian carp soup and took a few sips. Suddenly, she noticed someone staring at her with a mischievous glint in their eyes.
She turned her head curiously and saw it was Shen Qingzhou.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked casually. “First, help me remove the IV. It’s inconvenient to eat with it, and it’s almost finished anyway.”
Shen Qingzhou checked the IV bottle—only a little left. Since she wanted to eat and the IV was uncomfortable, he didn’t object. He took her offered hand and removed the needle.
Though not a doctor, Shen Qingzhou knew some basic medical care. As he put it, it was “for emergencies,” much like his reason for buying a recreational vehicle.
“Eat,” he said after removing the needle, pressing on the injection site for a while before letting her eat.
Lin Qiao continued drinking her soup and asked, “What were you thinking about earlier when you were staring at me? Your expression was so strange.”
Shen Qingzhou didn’t look at her, sipping his porridge as he replied lightly, “Nothing.”
Lin Qiao snorted. “I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth, or I’ll get angry.”
Shen Qingzhou finally looked at her. “Do you really want to know?”
Lin Qiao nodded, putting down the fish soup to reach for an egg. She intended to peel it herself, but Shen Qingzhou took it from her, lowering his eyes to peel it for her.
“Lean closer,” he whispered, his tone somewhat ambiguous.
Lin Qiao and Shen Qingzhou were already very close. When he removed the needle, he had naturally sat on the edge of the bed, their shoulders almost touching. Leaning closer required only a small movement, so she obliged.
Shen Qingzhou slightly raised his head, bringing his lips close to her ear, and whispered, “The fish soup is good. Drink more.” After saying this, he straightened up and continued peeling the egg.
Lin Qiao frowned, puzzled. “What exactly did you mean?”
Shen Qingzhou chuckled softly. “You really can’t tell?”
“Nonsense! If I knew, why would I ask you?”
Shen Qingzhou glanced at her and said, “It’s nothing much.” He lowered his voice to a volume only the two of them could hear. “It’s just that I… prefer… drinking milk.”
“…” For the first time, Lin Qiao realized so directly that Shen Qingzhou could also be a流氓 (rascal).
That afternoon, Lin Qiao changed clothes and left the hospital with Shen Qingzhou and Xie Jiayi. Lin Qiao’s father had also come but had gone downstairs earlier to move their things. The car was parked at the hospital entrance, ready for them to board. He was waiting in the car.
On one side, Shen Qingzhou supported Lin Qiao; on the other, Xie Jiayi held the child, bundled up securely to protect her from the cold wind without being stifled. To ordinary people, this family might simply seem exceptionally good-looking and wealthy, but to those with ulterior motives, their dynamics were more complicated.
Zhao Chunjun happened to be getting off work just as they were leaving and rode the elevator down with them. The elevator wasn’t crowded—aside from them, there were only two unrelated individuals. Zhao Chunjun, dressed in casual clothes, stood in the corner, his tall figure casting a shadow over the person in front of him. Lin Qiao happened to be standing right in front of him.
She wasn’t as tall as Zhao Chunjun, making his shadow feel somewhat intrusive. Shen Qingzhou was about the same height, perhaps slightly taller, so this wasn’t an issue for him.
Feeling uncomfortable, Lin Qiao frowned and tugged at Shen Qingzhou’s sleeve. Shen Qingzhou glanced back indifferently at Zhao Chunjun, who敏锐地 (keenly) noticed and met his gaze with a polite smile.
Shen Qingzhou expressionlessly turned away, stepping out through the open elevator doors with his wife and mother, leaving the hospital.
Lin Qiao quickly got into her father’s car parked at the entrance. Once seated, she looked out the window and saw Zhao Chunjun slowly descending the hospital steps.
He wore a dark green trench coat that accentuated his slender figure. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his tall nose bridge, softening his sharp gaze slightly. However, no matter what expression he made, a hint of gloom always lingered in his eyes.
As the car slowly drove away from the hospital, Lin Qiao turned her attention to Xie Jiayi, who sat beside her holding her and Shen Qingzhou’s daughter. The little girl was sleeping soundly, her face peaceful and sweet.
The car was warm—Lin Huiming had turned on the air conditioning while waiting downstairs, so the child wouldn’t feel cold even with her head uncovered.
Xie Jiayi, however, seemed somewhat unusual. She had been holding the child all along and was now looking at the baby alongside Lin Qiao, but her expression wasn’t as content as Lin Qiao’s. Instead, it carried a trace of nostalgia and melancholy.
She was probably thinking about Qingzhou’s father again.
Thinking this, Lin Qiao softly said, “Mom, why don’t I hold the child? You must be tired—take a rest.”
Xie Jiayi quickly declined, “No need, I’ll handle it. You haven’t fully recovered yet, and the weather is cold. You need to be especially careful during your confinement period, or you might develop health issues that could trouble you for half your life.”
With the elder insisting, Lin Qiao didn’t press further. Just then, her phone rang—someone had sent her a text message. She nodded and took out her phone to check.
The number was familiar; Lin Qiao had seen it multiple times in Zhoushan. This number had brought her many troubles, and the person behind it was equally annoying.
It was Zhao Chunjun.
Zhao Chunjun had sent a message even more unpleasant than himself: “Even in the car, you can’t stop looking at me. Your husband would be unhappy if he knew.”
…This person was truly baffling. Sending such a misleading message with such an ambiguous tone—who gave him the right to be so arrogant?
Annoyed, Lin Qiao deleted the message and directly blacklisted his number, ensuring peace and quiet.
Meanwhile, Zhao Chunjun, who had just sent the message, sat in his car. He leisurely opened the back cover of his phone, removed the battery and SIM card, inserted another card, and then reassembled it before turning the phone back on.
Watching the welcome screen appear, Zhao Chunjun casually tossed the old SIM card into a box. The box was clearly divided into two compartments: one empty, the other filled with brand-new SIM cards. The one he had just removed was placed in the empty compartment.
After completing this, Zhao Chunjun started the car and drove toward his residence.
He gently placed the baby back in the crib, then turned slightly to face her, leaning over to play with the baby. From Lin Qiao’s angle, she could see his gentle, handsome profile.
People often said that serious men were the most charming, but Lin Qiao always thought that cold, distant men became the most attractive when they showed tenderness.
“When the loud whistle had just faded,
I walked along the path toward the tree.
The gentle breeze blew ceaselessly beneath the lush hawthorn tree,
Ruffling the hair of the young turner and the blacksmith.”
Don’t misunderstand—this isn’t modern poetry but lyrics from a song. The song is titled “Hawthorn Tree,” born in the Soviet Union in 1953, depicting the production, life, and love of factory youth.
After giving birth, Lin Qiao became the great benefactor of the entire Shen family. Shen Qingzhou, deeply concerned for her health, granted her almost every wish. So now, he was singing to her.
Shen Qingzhou had a beautiful voice, something Lin Qiao had known since they first met. His low, melodious tone when speaking was no less impressive than a professional singer’s when he sang. Even without accompaniment, his a cappella performance highlighted the clarity and depth of his voice. Lin Qiao watched him unblinkingly as he sang a short segment of “Hawthorn Tree” and couldn’t help but praise, “It sounds wonderful.”
Shen Qingzhou held Lin Qiao’s hand beneath the blanket, glanced at the IV bottle—there was just a little left, and they could check out that afternoon.
“Does it still hurt?” He didn’t engage in conversation about the singing, only concerned about her wound.
Lin Qiao shook her head. “It stopped hurting a long time ago. I only said it hurt earlier because I wanted you to sing for me.” A sly smile crept onto her face.
Shen Qingzhou raised an eyebrow, a hint of something dangerous flickering across his handsome yet aloof expression. Lin Qiao instinctively pulled the blanket up higher, avoiding his gaze. But his soft command, “Don’t move,” made her surrender immediately.
“Okay,” she agreed readily, relaxing into a gentle smile.
Just as Shen Qingzhou opened his mouth to say something else, their daughter in the crib suddenly began to cry. Lin Qiao immediately turned her attention anxiously toward the sound, while Shen Qingzhou released her hand and walked over to the crib, carefully checking why the baby was crying.
“She wet herself,” Shen Qingzhou said with a strange expression, picking up the child and clumsily attempting to change her diaper. Lin Qiao watched his stiff movements, worried about whether he could manage it properly. She considered suggesting they ask Xie Jiayi to do it instead but held back, afraid of discouraging the new father.
Fortunately, although Shen Qingzhou was inexperienced, he eventually succeeded without any major issues.
Watching him finish, Lin Qiao couldn’t help but sigh. “Why don’t we just use diapers? It’s more convenient and doesn’t require constant changing.”
Shen Qingzhou looked at her and said, “No.”
“Why?” she asked, puzzled.
“Diapers may be convenient for adults, but they’re not good for the child. They’re uncomfortable and unhygienic when left on for too long. Let’s use cloth diapers—Mom prepared plenty.”
Shen Qingzhou placed the child back in the crib and bent down, half-turned away from her, to play with the baby. From Lin Qiao’s angle, she could see his gentle and refined profile.
People often say that focused men are the most attractive, but Lin Qiao always felt that a usually cold man becoming gentle was truly captivating.
Shen Qingzhou’s current demeanor, as if he could包容 everything, made her, a married mother who hadn’t been intimate with her husband for a long time, feel restless with desire.
Sensing the intense gaze from behind, Shen Qingzhou turned to look at her. His eyes, half-lidded, drifted over her, each faint glance causing Lin Qiao’s heart to race wildly. Especially when he finally withdrew his gaze and looked down at their daughter with tender, spring-like eyes that left Lin Qiao parched.
“Is the baby awake?”
Xie Jiayi’s arrival interrupted the silent tension between them. She carried lunch in her hands, closed the door behind her, and walked into the room.
Today, she looked different. Since the day the child was born, Xie Jiayi had stopped wearing high heels and even swapped her expensive, varied socialite outfits for simple, comfortable pants and a shirt paired with flat shoes. Her long hair was tied up high, and she wore no makeup, clearly prioritizing the child’s comfort.
Lin Qiao had just given birth and, even with a smooth recovery, couldn’t care for the child yet. Her mother had passed away years ago and couldn’t help either, so Xie Jiayi stepped in to assist.
Xie Jiayi set down the lunch, sent Shen Qingzhou to accompany Lin Qiao, and stationed herself by the crib to watch the baby. The child, upon seeing her beautiful grandmother, immediately stopped crying and began babbling happily as they played.
Shen Qingzhou sat by the hospital bed next to Lin Qiao, his eyes fixed on Xie Jiayi and the child as if deep in thought. Lin Qiao, feeling neglected by her handsome husband, grew a little jealous and grabbed his hand with her free one, scratching him firmly with her nails.
Shen Qingzhou turned to her abruptly. Sunlight spilled onto his face, making his eyelashes glitter brilliantly. Long, curled lashes fluttered like butterfly wings in the light, shimmering with a beautiful gold.
He slowly clasped her hand in return, his temperament seeming exceptionally gentle. His pale fingers curled slightly, tracing the lines of her palm, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
…Once she recovered, she would definitely teach this rogue a lesson.
Lin Qiao gritted her teeth secretly, suppressing the urge to strip him bare, and turned away angrily with a huff.
Being able to look but not touch was worse than not looking at all—it was pure torture.
Shen Qingzhou, ever perceptive, could easily guess Lin Qiao’s unspoken thoughts. He didn’t call her out on it, instead gently massaging and stroking her small hand. Leaning back in his chair, he half-closed his eyes contentedly, lost in thought, not even mentioning eating.
He had many things to ponder, his mind filled with plans, his brain working at full capacity. But Lin Qiao, as a new mother, had fewer concerns. Earlier, she hadn’t noticed, but now that Xie Jiayi had brought lunch, her stomach began to growl.
“Hey,” Lin Qiao called to Shen Qingzhou. “I’m hungry. Stop spacing out and bring the food.”
Xie Jiayi heard her and immediately turned around. “Exactly, Qingzhou, why aren’t you moving? Hurry and get Qiaoqiao her meal. I made porridge, eggs, and crucian carp soup—it’s good for calcium and lactation.”
Shen Qingzhou obligingly fetched the lunch, selecting what Lin Qiao wanted and bringing it to her.
Lin Qiao took the bowl of crucian carp soup and drank a few sips before noticing someone staring at her with a mischievous glint in their eyes.
She turned her head questioningly toward Shen Qingzhou—sure enough, it was him.
“What are you thinking?” she asked casually. “Help me remove the IV first. It’s inconvenient for eating, and it’s almost finished anyway.”
Shen Qingzhou checked the IV bottle; only a little remained. Since she needed to eat and the IV was uncomfortable, he didn’t object. He took her offered hand and removed the needle.
Though not a doctor, Shen Qingzhou knew some basic medical care—what he called “preparing for unforeseen circumstances,” much like his reason for buying a RV.
“Eat,” he said after removing the needle, pressing on the injection site for a while before letting her eat.
Lin Qiao continued drinking her soup and asked, “What were you thinking earlier when you were staring at me? Your expression was so strange.”
Shen Qingzhou didn’t look at her, holding a bowl of porridge as he replied lightly, “Nothing.”
Lin Qiao snorted. “I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth, or I’ll get angry.”
Shen Qingzhou glanced at her then. “Do you really want to know?”
Lin Qiao nodded, putting down the fish soup to reach for an egg. She intended to peel it herself, but Shen Qingzhou took it from her, lowering his eyes to peel it for her.
“Lean closer,” he said softly, his tone somewhat ambiguous.
Lin Qiao and Shen Qingzhou were already very close—he had sat on the edge of the bed when removing the IV, their shoulders almost touching. Leaning in required only a short distance, so she obediently inclined her head.
Shen Qingzhou slightly lifted his head, whispering into her ear, “The fish soup is good. Drink more.” After speaking, he straightened up and continued peeling the egg.
Lin Qiao asked, puzzled, “What did you mean by that?”
Shen Qingzhou chuckled. “You really can’t tell?”
“Nonsense. If I knew, why would I ask you?”
Shen Qingzhou looked at her and said, “It’s nothing much.” He lowered his voice to a volume only they could hear. “It’s just that I particularly enjoy drinking milk.”
“…” For the first time, Lin Qiao realized so directly that Shen Qingzhou could also be a流氓.
That afternoon, Lin Qiao changed clothes and left the hospital with Shen Qingzhou and Xie Jiayi. Lin Qiao’s father had also come but had gone downstairs earlier to move their things. The car was parked at the hospital entrance, ready for them to get in, with him waiting inside.
On one side, Shen Qingzhou supported Lin Qiao; on the other, Xie Jiayi held the child, bundled up securely to protect against the cold without being stuffy. To ordinary people, this family might simply seem exceptionally good-looking and wealthy, but to those with ulterior motives, their presence held complex implications.
Zhao Chunjun happened to be getting off work as they were leaving and rode the elevator down with them. The elevator wasn’t crowded—aside from them, there were only two unrelated individuals. Zhao Chunjun, in casual clothes, stood in the corner, his tall figure casting a shadow over the person in front of him—Lin Qiao, who happened to be standing there.
She wasn’t as tall as Zhao Chunjun, making his shadow somewhat annoying. Shen Qingzhou was about the same height, perhaps slightly taller, so he didn’t have this issue.
Lin Qiao uncomfortably frowned and tugged at Shen Qingzhou’s sleeve. Shen Qingzhou glanced back indifferently at Zhao Chunjun, who敏锐ly noticed and met his gaze with a polite smile.
Shen Qingzhou expressionlessly withdrew his gaze, stepping out through the open elevator doors with his wife and mother, leaving the hospital.
Lin Qiao quickly got into her father’s car parked at the entrance. Once seated, she looked out the window and saw Zhao Chunjun slowly descending the hospital steps.
He wore a dark green trench coat that accentuated his slender figure. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his high nose bridge, softening his sharp gaze slightly. Regardless, no matter what expression he wore, a deep melancholy always lingered in his eyes.
As the car slowly drove away from the hospital, Lin Qiao turned her attention to Xie Jiayi sitting beside her, who held her and Shen Qingzhou’s daughter. The little girl was sleeping soundly, her face peaceful and sweet.
The car was warm—Lin Huiming had turned on the air conditioning while waiting downstairs, so the child wouldn’t feel cold even with her head uncovered.
Xie Jiayi, however, seemed somewhat unusual. She had been holding the child all along and was now looking at the baby alongside Lin Qiao, but her expression wasn’t as content as Lin Qiao’s. Instead, it carried a trace of nostalgia and melancholy.
Probably thinking about Qingzhou’s father again.
Lin Qiao thought this to herself and said softly, “Mom, why don’t I hold the child? You must be tired—take a rest.”
Xie Jiayi hurriedly replied, “No need, I’ll handle it. You haven’t fully recovered yet, and it’s cold now. You need to be especially careful during your confinement, or you might develop health issues that could trouble you for half your life.”
With the elder insisting, Lin Qiao didn’t press further. Just then, her phone rang—someone had sent her a text message. So she nodded and took out her phone to check.
The number was familiar; Lin Qiao had seen it more than once in Zhoushan. This number had brought her many troubles, and the person behind it was equally unpleasant.
It was Zhao Chunjun.
Zhao Chunjun sent a message that was even more displeasing than he was: “Even sitting in the car, you can’t take your eyes off me. Your husband would be unhappy if he knew.”
…This person was truly baffling. Sending such a misleading message with such an ambiguous tone—who gave him the right to be so arrogant?
Lin Qiao irritably deleted the message, directly blacklisting his number for peace and quiet.
On the other end, Zhao Chunjun, having just sent the message, sat in his car. He leisurely opened the back cover of his phone, removed the battery and SIM card, replaced it with another card, then reassembled the phone and turned it on.
Watching the welcome screen, Zhao Chunjun carelessly tossed the used SIM card into a box. The box was clearly divided into two compartments: one empty, the other filled with brand-new SIM cards. The one he had just replaced went into the empty compartment.
After completing this, Zhao Chunjun started the car and drove toward his residence.
As if sensing her intense gaze from behind, Shen Qingzhou turned to look at her. He half-closed his eyes, letting his gaze drift toward her in a teasing way. Each subtle glance sent Lin Qiao’s heart racing. Especially when he finally turned back to the baby, his eyes filled with tenderness, almost sparkling with springtime warmth, making Lin Qiao feel parched and flustered.
“Did the baby wake up?”
Xie Jiayi’s arrival interrupted the unspoken tension between them. She was holding lunch and casually closed the door behind her as she walked in.
She looked different today. Ever since the baby was born, Xie Jiayi had stopped wearing high heels and had also replaced her usual expensive, ever-changing elegant outfits. Now she wore simple, comfortable pants and a shirt with flat shoes, her long hair tied up in a high bun, her face bare of makeup—clearly prioritizing the baby’s comfort in her appearance.
Lin Qiao had just given birth and, even though she had recovered quickly from a natural birth, she wasn’t yet able to take care of the baby. Her mother had passed away years ago and couldn’t help either, so Xie Jiayi was stepping in.
After setting down lunch, Xie Jiayi sent Shen Qingzhou off to accompany Lin Qiao and stayed by the crib herself. The baby, seeing her pretty grandmother, immediately stopped crying and happily played with her.
Sitting by Lin Qiao’s bedside, Shen Qingzhou watched Xie Jiayi and the baby, seemingly deep in thought. Lin Qiao, tired of not getting attention from her handsome husband, playfully grabbed his hand with her free one and scratched it.
Shen Qingzhou turned to her suddenly. Sunlight bathed his face, making his eyelashes shimmer. His long, curled lashes fluttered like butterfly wings in the light, glowing with golden beauty.
Slowly, he clasped her hand in his, his expression gentle. His pale fingers curled slightly, caressing her palm, his lips curving into an indescribable smile.
…Once she was fully recovered, she’d definitely give this bastard a proper punishment.
Lin Qiao gritted her teeth inwardly, barely suppressing the urge to tear his clothes off, and angrily turned her head away with a huff.
It was worse than not seeing him at all—being able to look but not touch. It was unbearable.
How could Shen Qingzhou, so perceptive, not see through Lin Qiao’s subtle desires? But he didn’t call her out on it. Instead, he gently massaged her small hand, leaning back in his chair with a half-closed gaze, smiling faintly as he thought about things, not even mentioning lunch.
He had a lot on his mind, plans swirling in his head at a dizzying pace. But Lin Qiao, as a new mother, had fewer concerns. She hadn’t felt hungry earlier, but now that lunch had arrived, her stomach started growling.
“Hey,” Lin Qiao called to Shen Qingzhou. “I’m hungry. Stop spacing out and bring the food over.”
Hearing her, Xie Jiayi immediately turned around. “Exactly! Qingzhou, why aren’t you moving? Hurry up and get the food for Qiaoqiao. I made porridge, eggs, and carp soup—it’s good for calcium and milk production.”
Shen Qingzhou obediently fetched the lunch, carefully selecting the dishes Lin Qiao liked and bringing them over.
Lin Qiao took the bowl of carp soup and took a few sips, then suddenly felt someone watching her with an unsettling gaze.
She turned her head suspiciously toward Shen Qingzhou and sure enough, it was him.
“What are you thinking about?” she casually asked, then added, “Help me take the IV out. It’s inconvenient to eat like this, and it’s almost done anyway.”
Shen Qingzhou looked at the IV bottle. Only a little remained. Since she wanted to eat, it would be uncomfortable to keep it in. He didn’t object, so he took her hand and removed the needle.
Though not a doctor, Shen Qingzhou had some basic medical knowledge. As he put it himself, “Just in case”—the same reason he bought an RV.
“Go ahead and eat,” he said after removing the needle, gently pressing the puncture site for a while before letting her start eating.
Lin Qiao continued sipping her soup and asked, “What were you thinking about just now? Your look was weird.”
Shen Qingzhou didn’t look at her. He was holding a bowl of porridge, sipping it calmly as he replied, “Nothing.”
“Hmph, I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth, or I’ll be mad.”
This time, Shen Qingzhou looked at her and asked, “You really want to know?”
Lin Qiao nodded, putting down the fish soup to reach for an egg. She tried to peel it herself, but Shen Qingzhou took it from her hand and lowered his eyes to peel it for her.
“Lean closer,” he said softly, his tone slightly suggestive.
They were already very close. After removing the IV, he had naturally sat on the edge of the bed. Their shoulders were nearly touching. Leaning in was just a short distance, so she obediently leaned closer.
Shen Qingzhou slightly lifted his head, leaning toward her ear and whispering, “The fish soup is good. Drink more of it.” Then he sat back up and continued peeling the egg.
Lin Qiao asked, puzzled, “What does that even mean?”
Shen Qingzhou chuckled softly. “You really can’t tell?”
“Obviously. If I knew, why would I ask?”
Shen Qingzhou looked at her again and lowered his voice, speaking just loud enough for her to hear, “I just… really like… drinking milk.”
…
That was the first time Lin Qiao realized so clearly that Shen Qingzhou could be a bit of a rogue.
That afternoon, Lin Qiao changed clothes and left the hospital with Shen Qingzhou and Xie Jiayi. Her father had come too, but had already gone downstairs earlier to load things into the car. The car was parked right outside the hospital, and he was waiting in it for them.
Shen Qingzhou supported Lin Qiao on one side, while Xie Jiayi carried the baby, wrapped warmly to prevent cold exposure without overheating. To the average person, this family was simply an unusually attractive and wealthy one. But to those who paid attention, the scene carried deeper meanings.
Zhao Chunjun happened to be finishing his shift at the same time and rode the elevator down with them. The elevator wasn’t crowded—besides them, only two unrelated people were there. Dressed in casual clothes, Zhao Chunjun stood in a corner of the elevator, his tall figure casting a shadow over the people in front. Lin Qiao happened to be standing right in front of him.
She wasn’t as tall as Zhao Chunjun, so his shadow felt somewhat annoying. Shen Qingzhou was about the same height as him, maybe slightly taller, so he didn’t have that issue.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Lin Qiao frowned and tugged at Shen Qingzhou’s sleeve. Shen Qingzhou casually glanced back at Zhao Chunjun. Zhao, sensing the gaze, looked over as well. Their eyes met, and Zhao offered a polite smile.
Shen Qingzhou gave no expression in return, stepped out of the elevator as the doors opened, and left the hospital with his wife and mother.
Lin Qiao quickly got into the car where her father was waiting by the hospital entrance. Once seated, she looked out the window and saw Zhao Chunjun slowly descending the hospital steps.
He wore a dark green trench coat, accentuating his tall, lean figure. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his high nose bridge, softening his sharp gaze slightly. Yet, no matter his expression, there always seemed to be a shadow lingering in his eyes.
The car slowly pulled away from the hospital, and Lin Qiao turned her gaze to Xie Jiayi sitting beside her. In her arms was the daughter of her and Shen Qingzhou, peacefully asleep with a sweet, innocent expression.
The car was warm, as Lin Weiming had already turned on the air conditioning while waiting downstairs, so the baby’s head wouldn’t get cold when exposed.
But Xie Jiayi seemed a bit odd. She was holding the baby and looking at her together with Lin Qiao, yet her expression wasn’t as joyful as Lin Qiao’s. Instead, it carried a trace of nostalgia and melancholy.
She was probably thinking of Qingzhou’s father again.
Lin Qiao thought to herself and softly said, “Mom, why don’t I hold the baby for a while? You must be tired. Rest a bit. My body isn’t fully recovered yet, and it’s cold outside. I need to be extra careful during the postpartum period, or I might suffer from lingering ailments for the rest of my life.”
Since her mother-in-law insisted, Lin Qiao didn’t press further. Just then, her phone rang—a message had come in, so she nodded and took out her phone to check.
The number was familiar—she had seen it many times while in Zhoushan. This number had brought her a lot of trouble, and the person behind it was equally annoying.
It was from Zhao Chunjun.
The message was even more unpleasant than the man himself. It read: “Still staring at me from inside the car? Your husband might not be happy if he finds out.”
…What an absurd person—sending such a message that invited misunderstanding, speaking in such an ambiguous tone. Who gave him the audacity?
Annoyed, Lin Qiao deleted the message and immediately added his number to her blacklist, finally achieving peace of mind.
Meanwhile, Zhao Chunjun, who had just sent the message, sat in his car. Calmly, he opened the phone’s back cover, removed the battery and SIM card, inserted a new one, then reinstalled the battery and cover before turning the phone back on.
As the welcome screen appeared, he casually tossed the removed SIM card into a box. The box was clearly divided into two sections—one empty, the other filled with brand-new SIM cards. The one he had just removed was placed into the empty section.
After completing this, Zhao Chunjun started the car and drove toward his residence.
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