Chapter 286: No Interest in Logic

Runze’s POV

The drafting desk is covered in site elevations and layout sketches for Mr. Fu’s library proposal when my phone lights up on the wood surface.

I pick it up, expecting a message from Meng Tai about the updated site measurements for the library layout. Instead, a text message from Bael sits on the screen.

Bael: *Is our daughter trying to kill me?*

I stare at the line for a second, a small smile pulling at my lips. I hit the call button right away.

He answers on the second ring. He doesn’t even say hello, the background noise hits my ear first, a high, persistent crying sound that comes in sharp, exhausted gasps.

"...How long has she been up?" I ask, leaning back against my chair and capping my drawing pen.

When I left the estate two hours ago, Siying had just fallen into a deep sleep after her morning vaccination. I’d intentionally left her resting in her crib rather than dragging her out to the studio while her legs were sore, planning to get through a quick review of the project brief and head straight back.

"She woke up twenty minutes after you left," Bael says. His voice is remarkably tight and controlled over the noise. "She refused the bottle, kicked off her blanket, and has been screaming continuously since."

"What? Did you check her temperature?"

"It’s normal. Her diaper is clean. She refuses to lie in the crib, she refuses the mat, and when I hold her, she arches her back." Bael lets out a slow, quiet breath. "She even looks directly at me while she does it."

A low laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "Bael, she had her shots this morning. Her legs might be sore, and she’s probably exhausted from all the fuss."

"I am well aware of her shots," Bael replies stiffly, though the brief pause on his end tells me he’d been so focused on soothing her that he forgot about the tenderness. "However, my presence appears to escalate her frustration. She drifted off briefly, opened her eyes, saw it was me, and resumed crying immediately."

A pang of guilt touches my chest. I should have just stayed home instead of trying to squeeze in studio work today.

"I’m packing up right now," I say, dropping my sketchbook into my bag. "Grandmother and Mrs. Wen aren’t back yet?"

"They are running late," Bael says, trying to maintain his calm, even tone, though Siying lets out another sharp, indignant yell in the background. "But there’s no need to rush. I have instructed Shen Rui to handle it."

"Shen Rui?" I pause with my bag over my shoulder. "What does your assistant have to do with Siying?"

"He is bringing solutions," Bael says simply. "Tell Liang Feng to drive carefully."

The line goes dead.

***

Twenty minutes later, Liang Feng pulls the car up to the front entrance of the estate.

Instead of the usual quiet driveway, a delivery van is parked near the steps. Two estate guards are helping carry large brown cardboard boxes through the front doors, while Shen Rui stands near the entry hall with a tablet in his hand, reviewing receipts.

"Young Master Runze," Shen Rui greets me, looking visibly relieved the moment I step inside. He wipes a thin layer of sweat from his forehead.

"What is all this?" I ask, looking at the stack of boxes lining the wall.

"President Bael called less than an hour ago," Shen Rui explains in a hushed voice. "He requested an immediate procurement of top-rated soothing items for infants. He specified that delivery had to happen immediately."

I look at the labels printed across the nearest boxes—automatic smart cradles, white noise sound stations, specialized baby swings, and soft wrap carriers.

"How much did he make you buy?" I ask, staring at the pile.

"Five different swing models, three sound devices, and several types of wraps," Shen Rui says smoothly, though his tired eyes give him away. "President Bael insisted we cover every available option in case the first attempt failed."

I hold back a quiet sigh, nodding toward the hall. "Thank you, Shen Rui. You can leave the rest in the hallway."

"Understood, Young Master," Shen Rui says, letting out a faint breath as he turns back to the guards.

As I turn into the nursery corridor, a mechanical hum echoes down the hallway, paired with the steady, rushing sound of ocean waves playing from a speaker.

I push open the nursery door.

The window shades are pulled down to soften the afternoon sun. In the center of the room, three of the automatic baby swings are set up in a row, plugged into the wall, their empty seats swaying back and forth at different speeds.

On the changing table sits an open laptop displaying an online infant care manual, right next to a white noise unit humming on maximum volume. A half-empty bottle rests forgotten on the dresser.

Bael looks like he’s running a high-stakes crisis operation, complete with a furrowed brow and a dark stain on his shoulder where Siying probably drooled during her last round of crying.

He has taken off his dark coat from this morning, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Strapped across his chest is a soft grey fabric carrier, holding Siying tucked snugly against his ribs. He is holding her with extreme care, his hand supporting her back while ensuring the fabric stays completely clear of her sore thighs.

Despite his care, Siying’s face is bright red, her tiny fists balled up against his collar as she lets out another ragged cry.

Bael stops pacing the moment I step inside. His dark hair is slightly messier than usual, his jaw set in a tight line.

"Runze! The water sound setting is ineffective," Bael says, his voice flat over the noise machine. "Swing number two calmed her briefly, but she started crying again."

I step over and turn off the sound machine, letting quiet settle over the room.

"Bael," I say softly, walking up to him. "Let me take her."

He releases the carrier’s upper buckles, and I carefully lift Siying out, supporting her head and body as I bring her against my chest.

The moment her face rests against the crook of my neck, her frantic crying stutters.

She lets out one long, trembling shudder of a breath. Her small face presses right into the fabric of my shirt, her nose catching my scent, and her tiny fingers clamp tightly around my collar.

"I’m here, Siying," I whisper, resting my palm flat against her back and swaying gently on the rug. "Papa’s right here."

Siying lets out one last, sniffling whimper, her body relaxing completely against me. Within less than a minute, her heavy eyelids flutter shut, her small chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm against mine.

Silence fills the nursery, save for the faint hum of the empty swings still swaying in the corner.

Bael stands near the window, his arms resting at his sides, watching the two of us in complete disbelief.

"...She stopped instantly," Bael says quietly.

"She wasn’t rejecting you, Bael," I say softly, keeping my voice low as I gently pat Siying’s back. "She’s probably exhausted and uncomfortable from her shots. She just needed some quiet and a little comfort before she could settle."

Bael glances at the expensive collection of equipment, then looks back at Siying. A quiet, tight line forms around his mouth.

I look over at him, catching his stiff, mildly offended expression, and a soft smile breaks across my lips.

"You manage the entire Wuchen Group every single day," I tease quietly, keeping my voice down to a whisper. "But you got completely outplayed by a baby who isn’t even three months old."

Bael unstraps the carrier from his waist and sets it on the side chair with deliberate care. He steps closer to us, his eyes resting on Siying’s peaceful face as she sleeps against my chest.

"I followed every instruction in the care guidelines," he says, though there is no real anger in his voice. He reaches out, his thumb lightly brushing a leftover tear from her round cheek. "She showed no interest in logical solutions."

"She’s a baby, Bael," I chuckle softly into his shoulder. "She doesn’t care about logic."

"Clearly," he replies softly, his hand coming to rest flat against the small of my back, drawing me a fraction closer to his side.

We stand together in the quiet nursery, watching our daughter sleep peacefully between us.

"What are you going to do with all those delivery boxes downstairs?" I whisper, tilting my head toward the door.

Bael lets out a low breath against my hair.

"I will have Shen Rui take them away before your grandmother gets back," he says flatly. "We will not be mentioning this to anyone."

A quiet laugh escapes me against his neck. Bael presses a kiss to my hair, his hand warm at the small of my back, the three of us standing together in the quiet room while Siying sleeps on, completely unbothered.