Extreme Pampering -
Chapter 98 He Doesn’t Even Get This Treatment.
Chapter 98: Chapter 98 He Doesn’t Even Get This Treatment.
At Qin Xiaoran’s invitation, Shen Zhiyi visited the newly opened gallery of the Qin Family, an engagement gift from Xiaoran’s fiancé. It was originally supposed to be turned into a private art museum, but Xiaoran wasn’t interested in that area and couldn’t be bothered with the effort.
Upon arrival, someone was there to greet her. Before viewing the exhibit, she was invited to a reception room on the fifth floor. As soon as Xiaoran saw her, she reached out to touch her head, fretful, "Bumping your head is no small matter. Why didn’t you stay in the hospital for a few more days?"
"It wasn’t serious," replied Shen Zhiyi who couldn’t stand being idle. The thought of wasting away in the hospital because of a minor injury scared her to death.
"I was scared to death," Qin Xiaoran said as she handed her a drink, not daring to let her touch alcohol, "You have so many injuries, I will introduce my beautician to you later, we can’t have you getting scars."
"Okay," Zhiyi looked around, "Your fiancé isn’t here?"
"Him?" Qin Xiaoran laughed, "Did you think he would accompany me? Wishful thinking. We each do our own thing, marriage is just a formality."
Shen Zhiyi stared at her, stunned. She had not expected this. At the engagement party, Qin Xiaoran hadn’t shown any reluctance. Zhiyi had believed it to be a romantic scene of mutual affection.
"Don’t be so surprised," Qin Xiaoran said with a laugh, "It’s not 100% about interests. At the very least, I find him quite pleasing to the eye. That’s all there is to it, no more is necessary."
Leaning in as if to confide a secret, she whispered in Shen Zhiyi’s ear, "After we get married next year, he’ll be sent abroad, and I’ll live here alone. Just thinking about it makes me happy."
With such views on marriage, others needn’t worry about her. Shen Zhiyi said no more, knowing she didn’t have much understanding on the matter, and in this aspect, her views were probably considered too naive and unrealistic by Qin Xiaoran and others.
The gallery’s first exhibition had invited quite a few people, and as the host, Qin Xiaoran naturally had to socialize and therefore couldn’t stay with Shen Zhiyi for too long.
Shen Zhiyi, on her own, was happy to move around freely and finished viewing the exhibition on the first floor.
As she headed to the second floor, out of nowhere a little boy hugged her legs. Looking down, she saw a chubby four or five-year-old, as round as a snowball and quite cute.
Noticing Shen Zhiyi’s attention, he opened his mouth and called out, "Mommy!"
Shen Zhiyi: "...I’m not your mommy."
The boy blinked, and upon closer inspection, she saw that he had light brown pupils. Despite his chubby cheeks, his features were quite fine, suggesting he might be mixed-race.
Indeed, when he spoke, a stream of fluent, childish French came out, leaving Zhiyi at a loss.
She stared blankly at the child, trying to converse with him in Chinese, "Where did you come from?"
It was rare to see someone bringing such a young child to an art exhibition.
The child looked at her blankly, clearly not fluent in Chinese. He only repeated calling her mommy, leaving Shen Zhiyi at a loss and helpless.
She had no choice but to extend her hand, "Shall I take you to find an adult?"
The child didn’t understand her words, but obediently handed over his hand.
She first took the child to the gallery manager, but unfortunately, they also didn’t know who the child belonged to, so Shen Zhiyi decided to look for Qin Xiaoran.
They hadn’t walked far when the child refused to go any further. "Mommy—" he wailed.
Clearly, he knew a few short and important phrases in Chinese. His big eyes fluttering, he said, "Hungry."
Shen Zhiyi: "..."
She looked troubled, unsure what the child might be allergic to, she dare not feed him indiscriminately.
She could only patiently comfort the child and, in an attempt to distract him, gave him her phone to play with. Sure enough, children from all over the world are fascinated by phones, and he deftly began to fiddle with it.
Watching him poke at the screen with tiny fingers, she asked, "Do you know your mommy’s phone number? Or your daddy’s?"
Looking up at her, she patiently repeated, "How about we call your daddy or mommy?"
He didn’t know if he understood, but he really began dialing, the digits popping up one by one, Shen Zhiyi also let out a sigh of relief, not noticing the contact reminder that suddenly popped up on the screen.
The phone connected, and the child opened his mouth to call out, "Daddy!"
The man on the other end paused, somewhat hesitant, "...Gabriel?"
The child nodded, conversed with the other party in French, and soon seemed to realize he had made a mistake, as he hung his head in dejection.
Shen Zhiyi, listening from the side, couldn’t hear very clearly, only knowing that the child’s head drooped lower and lower, and then handed her the phone, she stared at the call interface in shock.
"Zhizhi?"
It was Pei Yu.
Shen Zhiyi looked at the four or five-year-old boy next to her, then back at the phone screen, slowly asking, "He——"
Pei Yu quickly denied, "He’s not my son."
He called to the little boy, this time by his Chinese name, "Duan Jiaze."
Jiaze, the poor little kid, clutched at Shen Zhiyi’s clothes, his Mandarin broken, "Uncle, Uncle!"
Then he called Shen Zhiyi, "Mommy!"
Pei Yu: "..."
His voice slightly deepened, like a warning, he spoke a few sentences in French, apparently scolding the child, whose expression looked as if he was about to cry.
Shen Zhiyi couldn’t bear it, "Where are his parents?"
Pei Yu, being overseas, naturally wasn’t clear on how the child staying in France had suddenly come back to the country, he messaged the child’s mother, explaining to Shen Zhiyi, "He is my third sister’s child, has been in France since he was little, doesn’t speak Chinese very well, likes to call people mommy indiscriminately."
The little boy nestled in Shen Zhiyi’s arms, aware that his uncle was talking bad about him, pursed his lips with a mix of anger and grievance, and whispered into Shen Zhiyi’s ear, "Uncle... bad guy!"
Shen Zhiyi, unable to help but smile, whispered back, "Mhm, a bad guy."
Pei Yu didn’t hear their quiet whispers, and got the situation cleared up after contacting the child’s mother.
He was on okay terms with his third sister, only having met Duan Jiaze during a business trip to France on the boy’s third birthday, yet for some reason, the child ended up getting very attached to him, and they started to interact a bit more.
Pei Family members were more or less somewhat afraid of him, the third sister being no exception, frankly explained the situation.
Turned out, she had a falling out with her husband and impulsively took the child back to the country. Knowing that Pei Yu didn’t like children, she planned to entrust her son to Qin Xiaoran, with whom she had a decent relationship. However, as soon as she arrived at the gallery, the child’s father caught up with them, and at the moment, the two were embroiled in a fierce argument.
"Leave the child with Xiaoran for a few days," the woman sobbed, "He already got me on the plane!"
After explaining the situation to Shen Zhiyi, Pei Yu, as the uncle, had not the slightest intention of getting involved and coldly said, "Just leave it to Qin Xiaoran."
Perhaps lacking a sense of security, the child clung tightly to Shen Zhiyi, looking up at her with those clear, large eyes, about to call her mommy again, but luckily, he restrained himself.
Touched by his gaze, Shen Zhiyi hesitated before saying, "How about I take care of him, let him stay at my place for now."
Pei Yu: "...You only have one bedroom in your house."
"He can stay with me," Shen Zhiyi didn’t see any issue, "He’s only four years old."
After hanging up the phone, not knowing whether it was out of frustration or what, Pei Yu laughed helplessly for a moment.
Indeed impressive, he never got such treatment.
If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
Report