Love for You

Little Orange was over five months old when Miao Jing's maternity leave ended. After careful consideration, she decided to return to work.

The baby was left with the nanny Pereira, and with Meijisi also at home, two adults caring for one infant in a community with excellent security—Miao Jing thought she should feel completely at ease.

Surprisingly, it was Chen Yi who felt uneasy—Chinese and Western parenting styles differed. Colombian families often had many children and generally practiced more relaxed parenting; they could let Little Orange play on the floor all day. Moreover, the environment was Spanish-speaking, which posed challenges for Chinese language exposure.

His work environment wasn't particularly formal or strict, so he sometimes stayed home to handle miscellaneous tasks. When Little Orange started crawling and moving around the house, Chen Yi would occasionally take Pereira and the baby to his office.

The office was still next to the bar. Chen Yi had converted one area into a baby play zone, enclosed with a fence. He would place Little Orange inside, toss her a few toys, and have Pereira keep an eye on her. Chen Yi would frequently turn around to check on her, watching as Little Orange, sucking on her pacifier and hugging a cloth doll, spun in circles. Eventually, her tiny hands would tremble as she gripped the fence, hoisting her chubby little legs to stand up, grinning at Gino.

Gino had a knack for entertaining babies. When he wasn't busy, he would play ball with Little Orange, put on music, dance, or carry her on his shoulders, swaying back and forth, making her giggle endlessly. Chen Yi, on the phone across the room, would watch his daughter's animated movements, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips.

After playing with Gino, the little one would cause mischief on Chen Yi's desk—wrapping the phone cord around herself, kicking her legs joyfully on the keyboard, and knocking over the coffee cup. Chen Yi would frown coldly, grab her by the diaper, lift her up, and shoot her an impatient look before giving her bottom a light tap.

"Keep causing trouble and see if I don't spank you!"

Little Orange's lips quivered, her eyes instantly welling up with tears as she burst into loud, earth-shattering wails, crying for her mother. Even Pereira couldn't calm her down. In the end, Chen Yi picked up his sobbing daughter, held her close, patted her plump legs and her small, milky-scented body, and hummed the lullaby Miao Jing often sang. Eventually, he succeeded in soothing Little Orange to sleep.

Gazing at that little face, so similar to his own and still glistening with tears, his heart softened immeasurably. For the first time, he felt a deep, blood-connected tenderness. He couldn't resist lowering his head to kiss her forehead, wiping away the tear stains on her cheeks with his fingers, and staring at her for a long time.

That beautiful little face, that delicate and soft little body—a living being born from his union with Miao Jing, separated from her body, growing day by day. Soon, she would walk, talk, and journey through her infancy, childhood, and adolescence...

Of course, he had to treat her even better.

Once Little Orange grew familiar with the office environment, she began babbling and wanting to go out to play. Chen Yi would always take her for a stroll after she woke up, cradling her in the crook of his arm. Her chubby, diaper-clad bottom pressed against his arm, her pink little gauze dress a perfect match with her dad's denim jacket.Chen Yi took her to see the colorful graffiti by the roadside, where people were dancing to music from speakers. Little Orange wiggled her tiny bottom to the rhythm, mesmerized by the street performers juggling bottles, forming human pyramids, and playing with fire—her daily highlight entertainment. Her big, curious eyes fixed on the spectacle, she even dropped her pacifier without noticing, only realizing it was missing when they returned home.

At noon, they seized a break to meet her mother for lunch. Chen Yi waited downstairs with his daughter in his arms, watching as Miao Jing emerged from her office. Little Orange eagerly threw herself into Miao Jing’s embrace, overjoyed. They ate at a nearby restaurant, where Little Orange gulped down her milk from a bottle, her large, round eyes coveting the food on the table. Chen Yi scraped a bit of avocado mash and fed it to her. With her few rice-grain-like baby teeth showing, she grinned at her parents.

"She actually smiled at you," Miao Jing said, cupping her cheeks and watching Chen Yi tend to their child with keen interest. "It seems you two are getting along well."

"She’s my own flesh and blood," Chen Yi replied calmly. "After all, I’m her dad. My office is practically a nursery now—no shortage of diapers and formula. Even the bar next door asked to borrow some milk, saying they needed it to sober people up."

There were also more reckless moments. Chen Yi once brought Little Orange to the billiards club, setting her on the pool table and giving her a few balls to play with. She seemed fascinated by them, kicking her feet to send the heavy, round balls rolling, then chasing after them. As she crawled to the edge of the table, on the verge of falling, Chen Yi’s long arm swooped in and scooped her back to the center. He handed her a pool cue, and she gleefully slapped the table with it, making Chen Yi beam with laughter.

"Hurry up and grow, so I can teach you how to play pool."

He couldn’t resist planting a kiss on her smooth cheek. Little Orange frowned, her tiny brows knitting together, and she balled her hand into a fist, swatting Chen Yi’s nose and the corner of his eye with a slight sting. Chen Yi lifted her up, gritting his teeth and calling her a little rascal, then bent down to offer her a teething biscuit—Miao Jing had banned him from swearing in front of their daughter, so he could only surrender quietly, not resort to force.

Thus, the foundation of their father-daughter relationship was shakily built.

When Miao Jing returned home in the evening, Little Orange, who had just learned to walk, would pout and burrow into her mother’s arms every day, looking utterly wronged. Chen Yi, tall and imposing, trailed her tiny steps and helplessly shrugged at Miao Jing. "I didn’t bully her."

He felt like rolling his eyes at the heavens. "If you don’t believe me, ask Pereira."

Miao Jing looked at their teary-eyed daughter, stroked her soft black hair, and asked gently, "Did you have fun with Daddy?"

Little Orange, still not speaking much, pouted and shook her head, then hesitantly nodded before wrapping her arms around Miao Jing’s neck and uttering a sound like "papa."

"She called you Daddy," Miao Jing said, turning to him with a smile.

His eyes suddenly sparkled, and he let out a somewhat proud hum, pinching his daughter’s tiny foot—how does a man spoil his daughter? With Little Orange around, Chen Yi never let her feet touch the ground, always carrying her, holding her up, or hoisting her on his shoulders, ensuring her little soles never gathered a speck of dust.

Chen Yi began to tacitly allow Little Orange to occasionally sleep in the master bedroom each week.

Curled up like a little frog on her pillow in the small bed, Little Orange slept soundly. Miao Jing propped her chin in her hand, gazing at their daughter’s sleeping face. Chen Yi walked over and rested his head on her shoulder. "You’ve been watching for a long time."