He rested his arms behind his head, thought for a moment, and spoke slowly, "I used all the money I had... to buy a casino, as a birth gift for Little Orange..."
Miao Jing choked on nothing, abruptly sitting up from the bed, stunned: "What?!"
"The waters in Bogotá are murky. To make money here without attracting envy, to grow big while protecting yourself, you need power and backing. Not long ago, a Chinese vendor was shot dead—it was done by other Chinese competing for business. A casino can make money and also support people... gangs, mercenaries. I don’t show my face; I found someone to manage it for me. But if anyone dares to mess with me, they’ll know I’m not to be trifled with."
Miao Jing was speechless for a long while before saying, "You need to remember... you have a family now."
"So, what’s your next plan?"
"Open a billiards hall? Buy a farm? Invest in a company?" He raised an eyebrows. "Going from zero to a hundred is hard, but going from a hundred to a thousand or ten thousand is far easier than the beginning."
"The casino’s name is Angel. From now on, all the money from the casino belongs to Little Orange—for her education, for her to play with, for her dowry. Do you still doubt how much I love her?"
Chapter 56: Making You My Home (Part 3)
Chen Yi had several scars on his arms from the billiards hall fire years ago. Because of Bogotá’s mild climate, they had always been covered by his sleeves. After Little Orange was born, he quietly went to a tattoo artist.
Each arm now bore a tattoo—the playful one for Little Orange, the bold and wild one for Miao Jing.
Miao Jing only noticed something was off when he took off his clothes to enter the bathroom. She walked over, touched the tattoos, and examined them closely, then let out a soft gasp, her eyes already glistening with tears.
She was still in her postpartum emotional phase, where even the smallest feelings were magnified. The tattoo dedicated to her was a chaotic burst of color, with overlapping and intertwined lines, but upon closer inspection, hidden details emerged—flaming roses, starlight and sunsets, holding hands and silhouettes, kisses and embraces.
On the other arm, the design was simple and lively: an orange-shaped hot air balloon, with a tiny black-haired head peeking over the edge of the basket, sporting little pigtails.
He asked, "Cool, right?"
Her voice muffled against his chest, she replied, "Super cool."
Only Miao Jing appreciated his effort. Three-month-old Little Orange didn’t have pigtails yet—only soft, fluffy yellow hair on her head. When held close to admire her father’s new tattoos, she turned her face away unhappily, wriggling and fussing to get away.
Little Orange and her father seemed to have incompatible energies. She only liked her soft, sweet-smelling mother, who gently lulled her to sleep, and disliked her hard-bodied father, who always tried to pry her away from her mother.
Chen Yi hunched over, poking his daughter’s chubby cheek with his finger. "Hey! Show me some respect. I’m your dad, you know."
The baby’s lips quivered, disliking his poking and prodding, and she opened her mouth to cry.
She never gave him any face.Whether it was because there were many people in the household or because Chen Yi was the only male, Little Orange had a particular dislike for her father. She would get upset the moment he held her—either spitting up milk or crying hysterically. Several times when Chen Yi changed her diaper, Little Orange directly "drew a map" on him. From then on, a clear boundary was drawn between father and daughter—most of the time, their interactions consisted of staring wide-eyed at each other. He would raise his eyebrows, make funny faces, whistle, or snap his fingers, successfully irritating Little Orange. Not to mention, every night, Chen Yi would hand Little Orange over to Pereira to sleep, successfully planting seeds of resentment in his daughter's heart.
Mom and Dad's room wasn't her room. She could only go in to play for a little while each day. As soon as Dad returned at night, Mom no longer had time to cuddle and kiss her. She could only play with Pereira. To make matters worse, Dad had the audacity to say that Mom was hers during the day, but at night, Mom belonged to him. Hmph! She was just a baby—how could adults compete with a baby?
Miao Jing was still in the breastfeeding period and needed to feed Little Orange one more time before bed, hoping to successfully lull her to sleep. If Little Orange slept peacefully without fussing, everyone could have a restful night.
After putting the child in the crib and waving goodbye to Pereira, Miao Jing tiptoed out of the room, let out a sigh of relief, and pushed open the bedroom door.
Chen Yi had been waiting for a long time, so bored that he had even started playing mobile games.
"Is she asleep?"
"She's asleep." Miao Jing gathered a strand of hair that had fallen loose near her temple, pinned it back up with a hair clip, and tidied up her things. "Have you showered?"
"Not yet." His eyes roamed over her body like a searchlight as he called out to her, "Come sit here."
She had just changed into her nightgown and shot him a sidelong glance, her cheeks slightly flushed. Holding the hem of her dress, she walked over, her figure delicate and graceful, her expression at the corners of her eyes both charming and alluring. Chen Yi wrapped his large hand around her waist, boldly exploring her body.
Miao Jing had been attending yoga classes regularly, hoping to return to her pre-pregnancy weight. The two of them planned to take Little Orange on a beach vacation in a couple of months, and Miao Jing couldn't bear to give up the beautiful dresses and swimsuits in her wardrobe, longing to wear them out again.
"Don't lose any more weight. This is just perfect." He squeezed her firmly, "I prefer you with a little more flesh on you."
Miao Jing saw right through his ulterior motives: "The places you're squeezing don't belong to you. Be careful, or your daughter will get her revenge again."
Chen Yi raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips: "She's had her fill, so it's my turn now."
He lifted her with one arm and strode into the bathroom, where the bathtub was already filled with water. Miao Jing, trapped between the cold wall and his fiery embrace, struggled to breathe. He was captivated by the pure, sweet, and soft innocence she exuded. When she lifted her head again, water droplets splashed from her brows, eyes, nose, and lips onto his cheeks, revealing rosy, glistening cherry lips that seemed enchantingly beautiful, like a fairy.
If one poured all their time and emotions into the other, every stage of life seemed to bring the joy of rediscovery. After having a child, the two of them seemed to have reached a tacit understanding. They would unconsciously go to the same store to buy the same kind of food, and every time he returned home, he would see the scene he had imagined in his mind—a familiarity born of countless twists and turns, yet also a renewed sense of novelty and a fresh start.
What the two novices still had to adapt to was Little Orange, especially Chen Yi, who was still learning how to be a father.
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