Bai Tingfang was startled, "The kitchen? Aren’t there servants for that?"
"If I tell you to go, you go! Why so many questions?" The old master chastised with displeasure, and his face immediately darkened.
Seeing this, Bai Tingfang finally understood, and so, after a moment of discomfort, her entire face turned red with embarrassment: "Alright, I know. I’ll go now."
She stood up, her face as unsightly as could be...
After Bai Tingfang left, the atmosphere in Chrysanthemum Garden indeed became more relaxed. The old master saw the little child and started looking frequently back at the table filled with pastries, then smiled and waved at him, "Come, Xiaobao, come to Grandpa. See what you’d like to eat?"
Ye Xiaobao, oh no, it should be Ou Xiaobao!
Ou Xiaobao looked up, and after glancing at his father and receiving permission, his little body finally hopped down from his father’s arms. Then, toddling on his short legs, he walked toward Grandpa: "I want to eat this."
"That? The chestnut cake?"
"Mm, but I don’t want the beans on top. Can Grandpa pick them out for me?"
The old master with a head full of white hair looked at the chubby little finger pointing at the small dish, then glanced at his own son sitting across from him, and finally couldn’t help but laugh out loud, "Excellent, excellent, truly like father like son, wonderful!"
He laughed loudly, the whole Chrysanthemum Garden heard it, causing the servants to come out one after another to look.
Seeing that the laughter was because of the little child who amused their old master, everyone’s faces also revealed tears of joyous laughter.
Indeed, how long had it been? How long had it been since this garden had heard its master’s laughter?
So at that moment, everyone in the garden felt happy, both because of the arrival of the little young master and because of the long-missed laughter in the garden.
Ou Mucen was also in good spirits, especially after seeing the old man, who had never been so patient with him before, now genuinely helping Little Baozi pick out beans from the pastry. A slight curve appeared on his normally restrained lips.
"Dad, don’t spoil him too much!"
"Spoil him? How big do you think he is? He’s just four years old. When you were his age, you weren’t even as sensible as he is!"
After a pause, he could only helplessly lower his head to drink his tea.
When he was as small as this child, he really wasn’t as sensible. Back then, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he led a pampered life replete with luxury; how could he have been described as sensible?
But this child was different. From the moment he was born, he had been on the run with his mother. To avoid exposing himself to danger, he had been living a life of hiding and escape for four years, enduring harsh environments and tasting the bitterness of life far too early. How could he compare?
Ou Mucen, recalling the time the child had taken the bus alone to see his mother, felt a twinge of moisture in his eyes and turned his head away.
The old master didn’t see this, for he was still carefully picking out the beans for his grandson. Seeing that after finishing, the child didn’t eat alone but shared each piece with him, his heart felt even sweeter.
"By the way, Mucen, have you given this child an official name?"
Ou Mucen shook his head: "Not yet..."
The old master immediately looked up at him: "Then when his mother named him, was it only the nickname Xiaobao?"