Chapter 47

Only then did Su Wan finally calm down enough to discuss it rationally.
They discussed, and the result was… no result.
So they could only put it aside for the time being.
At night, Xi Siyan held Jing Miao, getting ready to sleep.
Jing Miao lay on his chest playing sudoku on his phone, screen held very close to his eyes. Xi Siyan lifted him up to sit straight and then pulled the phone farther away.
Jing Miao let him adjust him the whole time.
That was when Xi Siyan noticed where part of the problem lay.
With small matters like this, he almost never “communicated” with Jing Miao.
Instead, Xi Siyan helped him directly, again and again, with actions.
When they were together, all his attention was on Jing Miao:
pinching the back of Jing Miao’s collar to make him sit up;
handing him water at the right moment;
knowing from one twitch of a leg that it had gone numb and needed rubbing;
hearing one yawn and carrying him to the bedroom to sleep…
Doing these things was as easy as breathing.
All of it came from instinct and conditioned reflex, so he couldn’t even be bothered to talk.
“Miaomiao,” Xi Siyan said, thinking that at least he could start by reasoning with him a little. This, he could change slowly. “You cry a lot, and your eyes are already prone to hurting. If you always play on your phone like this, face-down and too close to the screen, you’ll become nearsighted. You won’t be able to see clearly—me included.”
Jing Miao looked at Xi Siyan, decisively shut off his phone, and hugged him.
“From now on I won’t lie in bed and play on my phone, gege.”
Xi Siyan’s heart softened again.
To hell with “reasoning.”
He was willing to take care of him like this, hand-in-hand, for a lifetime.
Lin Song found it unbelievable that their almost pathological child-raising method hadn’t ruined Jing Miao.
Xi Siyan didn’t.
Jing Miao was too obedient, too considerate, too well-behaved.
That was the deep imprint left by the life he had lost.
Growing up in hardship meant he had to be sensible and compliant.
With his terrible social skills, to survive, he could only be quiet and good.
From little kid to bigger kid—caring for the old director, then together with him caring for the other children…
Jing Miao was born with a way of making people ache for him, soften for him, willingly give in.
Even Wang Song and the others, after spending enough time with him, unconsciously spoke to him the way you coax a child.
His environment was already something that could not be changed.
“Good baby, you can play,” Xi Siyan murmured, stroking his cheek and kissing his forehead. “Just not face-down like that.”
Jing Miao thought for a moment and said softly, “Then I won’t play. I don’t want to not be able to see gege clearly. And phones aren’t that fun anyway.”
Xi Siyan exhaled.
Fine. Let him be raised like this.
Su Wan was right: from the very beginning, they had all assumed he would be a seven-year-old child forever. They had already made peace with taking care of him for life.
Nothing more than “staying true to the original intention.”
“Gege,” Jing Miao called him. “Are you in a bad mood because I can’t go out and work?”
His treasure was hazy and broad-brushed about the world, but forever sensitive to people’s emotions.
Xi Siyan denied it. “No. Baby, don’t overthink.”
“I want to teach children,” Jing Miao suddenly said.
Xi Siyan didn’t hear clearly. “What?”
“I can teach children. I like being with kids,” Jing Miao said seriously. “I realized it when I taught Granny’s granddaughter.”
Aunt Jiang’s daughter and son-in-law, because of work, asked her to look after their granddaughter for a few days.
The child was an eight-year-old girl in second grade.
Aunt Jiang still had to work at the villa during the day, so after asking Xi Siyan’s permission, she brought the girl along—letting her do homework somewhere in the house in daytime, then taking her away at night.
Jing Miao seemed to have a natural affinity that drew “human cubs” to him.
In the past, even high schoolers liked sticking to him to play games. For a little girl, it was even worse.
The girl, who had been obedient enough, saw Jing Miao and immediately pounced on him, clinging and insisting the “boss” teach her homework and play with her.
Jing Miao struggled with people his own age, yet had endless patience with children.
Those few days, he taught second-grade material with ease.
At night in bed, he even happily asked Xi Siyan for a “reward.”
Xi Siyan had never noticed this angle before. Clearly, this was a conclusion Jing Miao had seriously thought through.
Xi Siyan remembered that after Jing Miao grew into a “big kid” at the orphanage, he often looked after younger orphans—almost a behavior pattern carved into his DNA.
“I can also help gege translate papers,” Jing Miao added. “Help gege’s colleagues translate papers too.”
“And I can make desserts. Gege says mine are delicious. Mom says they’re delicious. Auntie and Granny say they’re delicious too.”
“Gege, there are lots of things I can do. Maybe I won’t do them very well at first, but Miaomiao can learn. Gege, don’t be unhappy anymore.”
Xi Siyan listened, stunned.
“Baby…” When he spoke again, it was all thick desire. He pressed Jing Miao into the crook of his arm and kissed him endlessly. “My Miaomiao. My good baby. I love you. I love you so, so much.”
Maybe Professor Jin was right. In his last life he really had burned incense and done good deeds—so this life, Matchmaker Yue gave him such an obedient, beloved treasure.
Jing Miao wasn’t useless.
He could do many things.
He was willing to learn, willing to improve.
Jing Miao was, in this world:
the most mature child,
and the purest adult.
“Gege isn’t unhappy,” Xi Siyan told him. “I’m just torn.”
“I want to keep you in my arms for life, but I’m afraid that many years from now, you’ll blame me for spoiling you into uselessness.”
He didn’t know whether Jing Miao could understand, but he still told him the truth.
“If Miaomiao wants to stay beside gege forever, gege couldn’t ask for more.”
“But would that kind of life bore you?”
That hypothetical was beyond Jing Miao’s thinking range.
He knew Xi Siyan couldn’t be with him all the time. Xi Siyan had his own things to do.
The thing Jing Miao hated most in college was winter and summer break—because during classes he had something to do, but on break he could only wait blankly at home for Xi Siyan.
He missed him even more than during school days.
If Xi Siyan were with him twenty-four hours a day, how could he ever be bored?
But Xi Siyan couldn’t.
In endless waiting, Jing Miao would become bored, restless, and sad.
So Jing Miao told him honestly what was in his heart.
Xi Siyan felt even more pain.
At that moment, the person who didn’t want to go to work wasn’t Jing Miao.
It was him.
“It’s okay, baby. We’ll take it slowly, alright?” He soothed Jing Miao to sleep, holding him even tighter.
It happened to be summer break, so through Su Wan, Xi Siyan found some relatives’ and friends’ children to come “take classes” at home.