Chapter 287: Paternal Instincts

Runze’s POV

Morning light filters through the tall study windows, casting soft shadows across the desk.

My laptop sits open beside a mug of fresh tea. I type two job titles into the studio recruitment portal, my fingers moving in a steady rhythm over the keys.

Position 1: Administrative Studio Assistant.

Position 2: Junior Architectural Draftsman (2 Vacancies).

Yesterday keeps replaying in my head. I had left Siying resting in her crib to spend two quick hours at R.Z, thinking she’d sleep off her shots in peace. Instead, she had woken up sore and fussy, leaving Bael to navigate an afternoon of baby swings and sound machines until I made it back.

I save the job posting. Bringing on an administrative assistant to manage front-desk appointments and a pair of junior draftsmen to handle drafting models as R.Z grows will let me run the practice without being tethered to the physical office every single day. I can set up my main drafting board right here in the study and stay close whenever my family needs me.

Quiet footsteps sound on the hallway tiles.

Bael walks into the study wearing a simple cotton shirt and relaxed trousers. His dark hair is unstyled, falling naturally across his forehead without the neat gel he wears when he goes to Wuchen Group HQ.

"Are you taking today off?" I ask, leaning back in my chair to look at him.

"I am clearing my schedule for the week," Bael says flatly. He sits on the sofa near the window, pulling his laptop out of its leather case. "I am working remotely from the estate."

I raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at my lips. "The Chairman of Wuchen Group is taking a full week for remote work?"

"I am reviewing corporate reports and approving departmental budgets," he replies without missing a beat, though his gaze strays toward the corridor leading to the nursery. "It requires quiet focus."

"Right," I chuckle, closing my laptop screen. "Departmental budgets."

He doesn’t bother denying it. He simply rests his hands on his knees, his jaw set in that quiet, determined line he gets whenever he decides to master something new. Yesterday left a mark on his pride. Bael spends time with Siying every single day, but seeing her reject his attempts to soothe her made him realize he wants her to rely on his touch and voice just as easily as she relies on mine.

By mid-morning, the nursery bathroom smells fresh from baby soap and clean water.

I lift Siying out of her mint-green bathtub, wrapping her securely in a thick cotton towel. She lets out a tiny, contented sigh against my neck, her small toes curling against the damp cloth.

"She’s all clean," I say, stepping into the nursery where Bael stands by the changing table.

He has set out three different cotton onesies in a neat row across the padded mat, along with a fresh diaper and a small tube of baby lotion.

"I will put her clothes on," Bael announces, stepping forward and reaching out.

I look at him in surprise, then down at Siying. "Are you sure? She gets pretty squirmy once the towel comes off."

"I have watched you do it," Bael says firmly, taking our wrapped daughter into his arms. He carries her the two steps to the changing table, laying her down and unrolling the towel with careful hands.

I step back, leaning against the edge of the tall dresser to watch.

Siying lies quiet for a few seconds before her bare legs start kicking against the mat. She lets out a high, bubbling sound, her arms flailing as she spots Bael standing directly over her.

Bael opens the fresh diaper, slipping it beneath her hips. Just as he goes to secure the side tabs, Siying twists her torso to the left, her small knee bumping his wrist.

Bael pauses. He simply waits, his hands resting gently near her waist for her movement to settle down.

"Keep one hand gently against her side while you change her," I tell him softly. "She’s getting wiggly."

Bael adjusts his position, laying his left palm flat against the side of her ribs to keep her centered against the mat. With his right hand free, he aligns the diaper tab, pressing it flat against the front tape before repeating the step on the other side.

Next, he picks up a sky blue cotton onesie, holding the soft neck opening wide with both hands.

"Siying," Bael says in a quiet voice, holding his breath slightly. "Stay still for a moment."

Siying babbles back, a tiny line of drool slipping down her chin as her small hand reaches up, her fingers wrapping firmly around Bael’s thumb.

Bael stops moving. He stays still, letting her hold his thumb while using his free hand to guide her arm through the soft sleeve. He takes his time, making sure her fingers don’t snag on the fabric.

It takes him several minutes to fasten the tiny resin snaps along her legs. By the time he smooths down the front of her outfit, he lets out a quiet breath of relief.

Siying blinks up at him, her legs kicking happily against the padded mat.

Bael reaches down, his thumb gently wiping the drool from her chin. A quiet, affectionate look softens his features, replacing his usual serious expression.

"Done," Bael says, turning to look at me.

I walk over to stand beside him, resting my palm against his back. "You did well. She looks happy."

Bael doesn’t say anything, but his hand comes up, sliding around my waist to pull me a fraction closer to his side.

In the early afternoon, the mountain air outside is cool and clear.

Liang Feng walks twenty paces behind us alongside two young estate maids, keeping a respectful distance as Bael and I walk up the stone path toward the crest of the hill behind the main estate.

Our fingers are loosely intertwined as we walk, our hands resting together between us.

Up ahead, the construction site for the Glass Library shows steady progress. The concrete foundation is set, and the tall steel support beams stand against the green bamboo background, catching the afternoon sunlight.

Siying is tucked against Bael’s chest in a soft cotton wrap carrier. Her small face rests against his shirt, her eyes closed tight as she slumbers to the steady rhythm of Bael’s stride up the slope.

"The frame will be fully enclosed soon," I say, looking at the structural beams. "Once the glass panels arrive, Meng Tai’s crew will seal the roof."

We stop at the completed viewing path beyond the perimeter fence, where we can see the structure without entering the construction area.

Bael keeps his free hand resting flat against Siying’s back to shield her from the mountain breeze. He looks down at her sleeping face, then back up at the structural frame.

"It matches your model," Bael says softly, turning his head to look at me. "The layout suits the hill."

A quiet smile touches my face. "We’ll come up here for tea once the interior shelves are installed. The three of us."

Bael’s gaze softens. He leans down slightly, his lips brushing against my temple. "We will."

When we head back inside, the afternoon sun is dipping beneath the courtyard trees, casting long golden light across the floor.

We step into the main sitting room. I reach out to take Siying so Bael can unclip the carrier and rest his shoulders, but Bael shifts slightly, keeping his arms wrapped around her sleeping form.

"Bael," I laugh softly, looking at him. "She’s asleep. Put her in the bassinet so your back doesn’t get stiff."

"She is comfortable," Bael replies flatly.

He sits down on the long grey sofa, leaning his back against the cushions. Siying stays pressed against his chest, her little cheek resting over his heart as her chest rises and falls in slow, steady breaths. Bael sits still, relaxing his posture just enough to keep her resting peacefully without disturbing her slumber.

A quiet laugh escapes me, and I walk over to sit beside him on the sofa.

"You can’t sit like that until she wakes up," I tease, resting my head against his shoulder and looking down at our daughter. "Your legs are going to fall asleep."

"I am fine," Bael says, though he doesn’t shift an inch.

I smile, reaching up to lightly trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips. I tilt my face up, letting my lips brush against the corner of his mouth until he lets out a quiet breath.

"Let me lean on you then," I whisper, moving closer until my side rests against his. I place my hands over his on Siying’s back, weaving my fingers through his. "If you’re holding her all afternoon, you have to hold me too."

Bael’s arm shifts, sliding around my waist to draw me close, tucking both me and Siying against his chest.

"That is easy enough," Bael says softly, his deep voice resting right against my hair.

I settle against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. With Siying sleeping peacefully between us, I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.