Uh-oh, he’s going to catch a cold.
When he caught a cold, he had to get an injection. If he didn’t get an injection, Dad would get angry, and calming him down when he was angry was really difficult.
Pei Xiaoge looked left and right, his black and white clear, round eyes flashed. While no one was looking, he grabbed a handful of grass from the flower bed and chewed it in his mouth.
Grandma Zhao said, “Sheep eat all kinds of grass and don’t get sick.”
It tasted awful.
Pei Ge’s little face wrinkled in agony. He couldn’t swallow it.
He remembered this type of grass and bravely searched for the next one, plucking a leaf and putting it in his mouth.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight... when there was enough, he chewed it into a lump and swallowed it.
Pei Rong saw this scene when he went out and almost had a brain hemorrhage. “Pei Ge!”
What was this kid doing?
He quickly grabbed the little guy, held him horizontally with his head down, and held his chin, “Spit it out.”
Pei Ge still wanted to swallow it quickly, but unfortunately his mouth was full of unchewed grass leaves and roots. With a pinch from his dad, he spat it all out.
Pei Rong rushed into the house, holding the child who had just vomited. He poured a large glass of cold water and said, “Rinse your mouth.”
He immediately called Uncle Zhang, asking if he had recently sprayed pesticides. Upon hearing the denial, he breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Don’t use pesticides in the future.”
Pei Ge obediently took a big gulp of water, swirled it around, puffed up his cheeks, and spat it out again.
“Did any go down your throat?” Pei Rong asked, staring intently into his eyes.
Pei Xiaoge realized his dad was angry and honestly replied, “No.”
Pei Rong saw the pile of unchewed grass leaves spit out and knew he probably couldn’t swallow any. But he was still worried, so he dragged him to the edge of the flower bed to identify each one.
Eight kinds of grass. Pei Rong took photos one by one, confirmed there were no poisonous ones, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
With his chubby little hands behind him, Pei Ge squatted down in a standard apology posture, resembling a round ball.
Pei Rong suppressed the urge to kick the ball and said gently, “Why did you eat grass? Are you hungry?”
Pei Ge lowered his head, didn’t dare to say he had sneezed, and said, “I ate it. It’s good for my health.”
Pei Rong said, “Some grass is poisonous. You don’t know, so you can’t eat it randomly. You’ll have a stomachache at night. If your stomach hurts, Dad will be worried and sad.”
Pei Ge lifted his head to look into his father’s eyes. “Dad, don’t be sad.”
He was most afraid when Dad was upset; his eyes turned red, and it was hard to comfort him.
Pei Rong asked, “Are you still going to eat, then?”
The little child hesitated for a moment.
Pei Rong pressed, “Don’t hesitate! Are you going to eat or not?”
Pei Ge replied, “I won’t eat.”
Pei Rong smiled faintly. “If you want to eat grass, why don’t you ask Dad? Dad knows what grass is edible.”
Pei Ge looked at Pei Rong with admiration. “Wow!”
There’s no need for injections after eating!
Pei Rong pinched his cheek, “I’ll prepare it for you tomorrow. Be good.”
At night, Pei Rong hardly slept, constantly watching over Pei Ge. He would touch his forehead, then his feet, worried he might have a stomachache in the middle of the night.
Fortunately, his worries were unnecessary. The next day, as he weakened like a dying fish, the little child was lively, sitting at the dining table, actively tying on a bib, waiting for the meal.
Pei Rong placed a plate of cleaned coriander in front of him. “Eat.”
Pei Ge tentatively extended his fingers, picked a piece, and finished it in a few bites. Innocently, he said, “Dad, no chicken legs today?”
Pei Rong put a bowl of plain congee in front of him, “Don’t you like eating grass? Eating grass means you don’t need meat.”
Pei Ge looked at the coriander, then at the congee, understanding something. Tears welled up as he ate a spoonful of congee and silently pushed the coriander away.
“This is your dad’s favorite grass,” Pei Rong pointed to the coriander lovingly.
Under his father’s pressure, Pei Ge reluctantly picked up another piece of coriander.
Liar, Dad doesn’t eat coriander at all.
Pei Rong, facing Pei Ge’s accusatory gaze, raised an eyebrow slightly. How could adults lie to children?
He should specify which dad he was talking about.
Why did this beautiful and fair child have the same temperament as Lu Gouxiong? (T/N: He’s saying that Lu Qin was bear-like. Not his appearance, but his character?)
He couldn’t figure it out.
Pei Rong used coriander as punishment for three mornings. The little child looked miserable, promising three times a day that he wouldn’t eat grass again. Before going to sleep, he asked Pei Rong in a pretended manner, “Which god is the best?”
Pei Rong flipped open a page of a book, saying, “It’s Guanyin Bodhisattva.” (T/N: A revered figure in East Asian Buddhism.)
The little child pounced into his arms, devoutly making a wish. “Guanyin Bodhisattva, please give the baby a chicken leg.”
Pei Rong couldn’t help but hold back a smile. “Oh.”
The little child leaned close to his ear and asked in a low voice, “Did Guanyin Bodhisattva hear it?”
Pei Rong replied, “Let’s see tomorrow.”
The next day, Pei Ge received a long-awaited chicken leg.
Concerned about the grass-eating incident, Pei Rong quickly temporarily moved to a new neighborhood. He had Uncle Zhang and Uncle Yu clear the grass from the flower beds and inspect the orchard for any poisonous plants.
The new neighborhood was a row of villas bought by Jiang Yan for his parents. Now that the elderly couple was traveling, Pei Rong temporarily stayed there for three days.
Previously, meals were prepared by Uncle Zhang’s wife. Now, living in Jiang Yan’s parents’ house, Pei Rong felt awkward bringing her along and occupying an extra room. So, he relied on takeout and cooked by himself for the three meals.
The little child, with a great appetite, oddly showed no interest in takeout, preferring the instant noodles Pei Rong casually cooked. Pei Rong ordered takeout for himself and had to cook something else for the little child.
The house was surrounded by bricks, and the front door was locked. Pei Rong pinched Pei Ge’s cheek, telling him to go play.
Pei Ge, attempting to recite the names of dishes: “...”
Considering that Pei Ge had been quietly behaving for three days, Pei Rong finally faced the challenge of making Braised Pork Belly, a slightly difficult dish, consulting the recipe.
After burning one pot, he calmly poured it out and started again.
Why did cooking seem so simple when Lu Qin did it?
While Pei Rong was in a struggle with the Braised Pork Belly, his phone suddenly rang.
His heart skipped a beat, realizing a dreadful possibility—Pei Ge had been unusually quiet for a long time.
Based on experience, something significant must have happened.
He thought of the villa’s outer wall discoloration, flooding the second floor and other scenarios, but did not expect to receive a call from the police station.
Police Officer: “Are you Pei Ge’s dad?”
Cold sweat formed in Pei Rong’s palms. “Yes, is he okay?”
“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”
Could it be that he ran away and was mistaken for a lost child taken to the police station? Pei Rong hadn’t fully calmed down when he heard the officer’s uneasy tone—
“Your son Pei Ge was involved in a group fight—don’t worry, he is not injured.”
Pei Rong furrowed his brows, glancing at the incoming call notification. Was this some kind of telecom fraud?
He calmly reminded, “My son is a little over one year old.”
The police officer remained silent for a moment and confirmed, “Yes.”
Pei Rong questioned, “Did he get into a fight with kids in the kindergarten?”
“Uh...with five other young people from the community.” It seemed challenging for the police officer to describe the nature of the brawl. He struggled. “In gaming terms, he was in the nanny role. Could you come to the Xiucheng District Police Station?” (T/N: It’s a gaming term that’s usually used in China to describe the healer role.)
Was it a game or a group fight? Healing while playing support?
Pei Rong’s understanding of the world became erratic. In a daze, he heard a sweet and childish “Daddy,” sounding unharmed and unafraid, fitting in comfortably.
Looking at the braised pork in the pot, he remembered fearing Pei Ge might get hungry before cooking and preparing 300 milliliters of formula milk for him.
For a moment, Pei Rong wanted to relieve himself of the responsibility of being a parent, contemplating whether to give Lu Qin’s phone number to the police officer.
Take care of your own Lu family’s mess.
