Doctor Lu Always Wants To Steal My Baby! Chapter 4
byChapter 4 The Second Day of Reunion
“Commander, hurry!”
Hearing He Leyan’s soft, sweet plea of “I want Daddy,” the people in the monitoring room reacted faster than the stunned He Chen. Some gestured for him to move quickly, while others pointed at his collar, reminding him to button up.
Why the fuss? Stay calm.
He Chen’s fingers were sweaty. He buttoned his shirt with slightly sticky movements, took a deep breath, and was about to step forward when he heard Wen Yi’s voice from the monitor: “Daddy didn’t answer the video call, he might still be busy. Leyan, go to sleep first, and we’ll call him again when you wake up.”
What video call? He Chen glanced at his terminal, which was as silent as a ghost.
He looked up, meeting a chorus of sympathetic gazes.
“Commander, it sounds like they were talking about a doctor or nurse from their Medical Institute,” someone kindly explained.
“I’m not an idiot.” He Chen wasn’t in the mood to notice who was speaking. He glared at everyone, radiating cold air, and turned to leave, bumping into Xiang Heng who was entering, nearly knocking him off balance.
“What happened?” Xiang Heng asked the monitoring room supervisor, watching He Chen walk away.
The supervisor pointed to his own camouflage cap and chuckled strangely: “Nothing much. Just a little green right here.”
Xiang Heng glared at them. After learning the details, he looked at He Leyan, who was lying down to rest on the monitor, and headed toward the door.
“Instructor Xiang, should we keep monitoring?” the monitoring room supervisor asked.
Seeing Xiang Heng look over, he scratched his head: “Doctor Wen is a good person. It feels wrong to monitor them like this.”
“It has nothing to do with the person. Safety first. Do exactly as the Commander instructed.”
“Fine.” The supervisor pouted and muttered under his breath, “The Commander has paranoia. You should remind him. He wasn’t like this before, ever since three years ago—”
Mid-sentence, he met Xiang Heng’s chilling expression and stopped talking.
Three years ago, they suffered heavy casualties in a mining disaster while tracking space pirates. Many comrades were permanently left on that desolate planet. This was a pain shared by the entire base, and no one brought it up lightly.
“Ahem, the brothers know. We’ll keep a close watch,” the supervisor said.
Xiang Heng nodded, left the monitoring room, walked down a quiet silver-gray corridor, and stopped outside He Chen’s office door. After a moment of contemplation, he raised his hand and knocked.
“You were wrong. Leyan doesn’t like me,” Xiang Heng said as he entered. The room was dimly lit, and He Chen was sitting at his desk, head bowed, looking withdrawn.
Xiang Heng paused. He was about to speak after a moment of thought, but He Chen suddenly looked up: “But I estimate that even if Han Jin himself stood here, Leyan wouldn’t like him either.”
As he spoke, he placed the item in his hand back on the desk. Xiang Heng glanced at it, his gaze lingering: it was a group photo of them from the military academy.
The photo included He Chen and him, and the remaining two were their close friends and comrades—one had been medically discharged, and the other had passed away gloriously—He Leyan’s biological father, Han Jin.
The photo was dynamic, recording the few seconds before the camera froze the image. The three of them were playing around, adjusting each other’s clothes and hats. Only one person stared coldly at the camera the entire time. That was Han Jin.
“You’re probably right. If it were him, Leyan might be even more afraid,” Xiang Heng smiled, then sobered up, looking seriously at He Chen. “Leyan is still young and hasn’t interacted with us. Don’t be discouraged.”
“How could I be discouraged?” He Chen raised an eyebrow, dropping the topic to ask about something else. “How is our Prince doing?”
“He complained that our food was ‘pig slop’ and went to sleep hungry.”
He Chen gave a cold tug at the corner of his mouth. “What do you think about the matter he mentioned?”
“The Commander was right not to let him finish. Bringing up Consort He still leaves room for maneuver, but if he brings up the one above, it will be hard to refuse.”
“It’s just the two of us, don’t call me Commander.” He Chen motioned for Xiang Heng to sit down and asked, “Don’t you think having the Third Prince as Leyan’s godfather would benefit Leyan?”
“Leyan has special talent. Getting involved with them would only make him a tool in their power struggles,” Xiang Heng replied.
Because the mental strength of awakened children is unstable in their early years, the Empire has a tradition of appointing a “godfather” or “godmother” to help stabilize the child’s mental strength.
Initially, this was only done when commoner parents lacked the means, but later, it was discovered that this assistance created a deep mental link between the two parties, forming a natural political alliance. Thus, it spread to the noble class and gradually changed its meaning, becoming a form of invisible “control.”
He Leyan possesses double S-class growth potential and will be able to soothe the mental outbreaks of high-level warriors in the future. In the eyes of some, he is naturally a precious strategic resource…
“You’re right, we can’t get involved with them.” He Chen looked at Han Jin in the photo frame, his eyes dark as ink, but his tone was flippant. “That bastard had an easy exit, but he left us a big problem.”
“Yes, for such a silent, iron-blooded man, I don’t know what he was thinking, running off to the gene bank to match for a child.”
The gene bank could match for a child, but the success rate was extremely low, even lower than natural reproduction. Han Jin was a silent and pragmatic person, and Xiang Heng truly didn’t understand why he did it.
But Xiang Heng wasn’t asking this because he was obsessed with the answer. He looked at He Chen: this was the first time He Chen had voluntarily brought up Han Jin since he left.
“Did he not tell you anything before he left?” Xiang Heng asked tentatively, after a moment of hesitation.
“No.” He Chen didn’t look at Xiang Heng, answering in a low voice. “He was too severely injured. Besides entrusting Leyan to me, he didn’t have time to say anything else.”
It was the same answer, as expected. Xiang Heng looked at He Chen’s unreadable profile for a moment, then changed the subject: “It’s meaningless to talk about this now. The priority is looking after Leyan. If not the Third Prince, there will be others.”
“I know.” A sharp glint flashed in He Chen’s eyes.
“Do you have a plan already?”
“No, we’ll take it one step at a time.” He Chen reined in his sharpness. “In any case, anyone who wants to be Leyan’s godfather will have to get past me.”
Saying this meant he had no intention of discussing it further with him.
The He Chen of the past was not like this with him. At least not three years ago.
Xiang Heng looked at He Chen, tightened his grip on his military cap, and stood up. “It’s good that you’re prepared. I won’t say more. I’ll go check on the security arrangements around Leyan.”
“No need. I assigned the security detail to Ning Tian. Leave the rough work to him,” He Chen said.
Xiang Heng paused. “Understood.”
“Then I won’t worry about Leyan’s side. I’ll have someone keep an eye on the Third Prince.” Xiang Heng walked toward the door.
He Chen watched his retreating figure with deep eyes. Just as Xiang Heng was about to exit, He Chen suddenly spoke: “Brother Xiang.”
Xiang Heng turned back, meeting He Chen’s smiling face—a little roguish, but bright enough to make the stagnant air in the room suddenly flow, and to warm Xiang Heng’s cold heart. “Brother, take me in.”
He Chen complained with a hint of grievance: “My room is connected to Leyan’s, and now it’s been given to Doctor Wen…”
*
“Leyan, look what this is.” As soon as dawn broke and He Leyan woke up, he heard Wen Yi’s slightly surprised voice.
He Leyan rubbed his eyes, sat up on the soft little bed, and stared blankly at the unfamiliar room for a while. Hearing Wen Yi call him a second time, he finally lifted his small blanket, turned around, and lay on his stomach on the bed, stretching his short legs until they reached the floor, and climbed down.
The moment he stepped down, he froze, looked at the floor, lifted his little foot, and set it down again.
A small circle of ripples spread outward from the tip of his foot where it landed.
Was this water? But it wasn’t wet at all.
Confused and curious, He Leyan carefully lifted his other foot. After a moment of hesitation, he placed it on the floor.
This time, where his foot landed, not only did ripples spread, but a blue light also illuminated.
As the light shone, the floor beneath his feet suddenly transformed into a “small stream.” There were stones and water plants in the stream, and a small red fish was hiding among the plants. It darted away from under his foot with a “whoosh,” swam to the clump of water plants ahead, and then poked its head out, as if waiting for him to find it.
Three-year-old He Leyan was actually quite composed, but… the little fish was too cute.
He Leyan couldn’t resist the temptation. He lifted his little feet and chased the small red fish from one clump of water plants to the next.
As he chased, he bumped into a body. He looked up and saw Wen Yi smiling at him.
“Daddy Wen!” Seeing the familiar face, He Leyan happily hugged Wen Yi’s leg. He looked back at the “small stream” that was dimming, and asked with curiosity, “What is this?”
“A path,” Wen Yi answered. “It’s made of a special material. The stream is the path to the meditation room, the grass is to the bathroom, and there are little bunnies in the bushes.”
Wen Yi crouched down, pointed toward the bathroom for He Leyan, and then directed him toward another direction: “There’s another path here, an ice field. A polar bear cub leads the way. Leyan, guess where that goes?”
Ice field? Polar bear?
He Leyan remembered the big wolf, white as snow, with long, fluffy fur.
But he also remembered the big wolf’s… big mouth.
Most of He Leyan’s earlier enthusiasm vanished. The little red fish and little bunnies were no longer appealing, and he was, absolutely not curious about what a polar bear cub looked like.
He turned to Wen Yi: “Daddy Wen, I want to go back.”
“Leyan,” Wen Yi stroked his head. “Daddy Wen has something to show you. You haven’t seen it yet.”
“I don’t want to see it,” He Leyan said stubbornly, but his eyes involuntarily glanced behind Wen Yi.
Wen Yi smiled, stood up straight, and led him by the hand into the room behind him: “Look, your meditation room.”
He Leyan pursed his lips and stepped into the four-sided white room.
As soon as he entered, his clear eyes widened slightly in surprise.
The room was small and had no decorations, only a long, curved, low bookshelf and a few soft little cushions.
But He Leyan liked this seemingly simple room very much and felt a strong sense of familiarity, because both the bookshelf and the cushions were exactly the same as his originals. Even the books on the shelf were the ones he used to read.
If he didn’t know where he was, He Leyan would have thought he was back at the Medical Institute.
At that moment, Wen Yi stood by the door and pressed a switch mounted low on the wall near the doorway.
The entire meditation room dimmed, and then slowly brightened again.
However, unlike the previous brightness, the light in the room this time was warm yellow and very soft. Because the light source came from the four walls, brightening and dimming at a fixed frequency, it was as if the entire room was breathing.
This detail was also exactly the same as He Leyan’s previous meditation room.
Healing types need long periods of meditation to stabilize and strengthen their mental domain, and He Leyan was no exception, despite his young age. At the Medical Institute, Daddy told him that the meditation room was very important to him and had to be a place where he could truly relax. He was told to suggest any ideas he had, and He Leyan suggested this one thing: breathing.
—He often had a dream, dreaming that he was lying in an embrace, jolting and traveling with that embrace. He was very small then, and everything he saw was blurry, but his ears could hear the sound of the wind, and he could hear that “embrace” breathing.
The wind was strong, but he was held very securely. He felt very safe, free yet secure.
He liked that “breathing.”
Daddy said that because the feeling was so real, it might not be a dream but a memory. It was just that he was too young then. To truly remember, he needed to meditate well and dig deeper. But He Leyan hadn’t dug it out yet…
“Do you like it?” Wen Yi’s words brought He Leyan back to reality. He nodded unconsciously, but halfway through, he realized something, suddenly stopped, and turned his head away stubbornly.
“I know, you don’t want me anymore.” The child tightly pursed his lips. It was initially feigned sadness, but as the words left his mouth, it became genuine distress.
“Silly baby.” Wen Yi rubbed He Leyan’s head. “It’s not that we don’t want you. It’s that there’s one more person, no, many more people who love you.”
“Leyan, take a good look around here.”
Wen Yi led He Leyan to stand on the steps of the meditation room, taking in his small bed and the paths extending from it. “This material isn’t rare, but no one ever thought of using it this way before. Leyan, your Daddies spent a lot, a lot of effort to remodel this place for you.”
“When they installed that little bed, they must have been thinking about you sleeping on it.”
“When they laid those little paths, they must have been thinking, ‘Will Leyan get lost in his new room and be too embarrassed to ask for directions?’”
As Wen Yi spoke, he couldn’t help but smile, seeing He Leyan blush.
“Actually, Daddy Wen was worried too, wondering if your Daddy, who has never raised a child, would be careless or unable to take good care of you. But seeing all this—”
Wen Yi didn’t say any more. He understood He Leyan. The child possessed the extraordinary sensitivity granted by his double S-class mental potential; he could sense good and evil on his own.
Wen Yi simply crouched down and looked seriously into He Leyan’s eyes: “Leyan, Daddy and the others will never abandon you, but the Medical Institute is not a home. When we get busy, we inevitably neglect you. Leyan, this is your home.”
This is not his home. He Leyan was silent for a moment, clenched his small hands, and gathered his courage: “I understand, Daddy Wen.”
Daddy Wen and the others have many things to do every day, He Leyan knew. He was a big boy now and shouldn’t worry them.
“Good boy.” When He Leyan was acting up, Wen Yi focused on persuading him, but now seeing He Leyan so sensible, Wen Yi’s heart suddenly ached.
The child grew up in a busy ward without a fixed caregiver. Although everyone liked him very much, the child actually lacked a sense of security deep down.
At this moment, Wen Yi ignored his authority and the Dean’s instructions, and spontaneously extended a hand to hook fingers with He Leyan: “Leyan, Daddy Wen promises you, one month. If after one month, you still can’t adapt, or if Daddy treats you badly, tell Daddy Wen, and Daddy Wen will take you back.”
“Really?” He Leyan’s dim eyes brightened. With a slight sniffle, his small hands tightly wrapped around Wen Yi’s neck. “Thank you, Daddy Wen!”
Wen Yi’s heart melted into a puddle. He kissed his hair, hugged him for a long time, and then led him to stand up: “Come on, let’s go out and see what your Daddy is doing.”
He Leyan bit his small lip: he didn’t want to see. He wasn’t curious about that scary big monster at all…
But, since Daddy Wen wanted to go so much—He Leyan touched the little fish on the ground with his toes—then, he would just accompany Daddy Wen for a look.
It was all to satisfy Daddy Wen!
The author has something to say:
Leyan: I don’t want to see the big monster at all! [Covers face and peeks]
Happy Qixi Festival to all the aunties [Hugs]