As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 26.2

Bai Qingqiu waited patiently, only moving once the little hand gripping her collar slackened in sleep. She carefully shifted her daughter onto the bed. The girl’s lips curved faintly upward, as though caught in a pleasant dream, her delicate face radiant as a picture-perfect princess.

“Goodnight.”

Her voice was softer than she realized, laced with tenderness.

Outside, the moon shone bright and serene, its light spilling through the glass onto the bed where mother and daughter rested close together—a scene of quiet beauty and peace.

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At dawn, before the sky had fully brightened, Gu Yining was woken by her assistant standing at her bedside. Her head felt heavy from lack of sleep, yet she immediately sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“What time is it?”

“Five o’clock.”

“So early?”

She blinked toward the window. Sure enough, the sky was still a deep, cloudless blue, with no sign of the sun.

The night before, even after her bath, she had tossed and turned restlessly in bed. At last, she gave up and opened her phone, scrolling through parenting guides, trying to learn how to interact with children.

She had looked up the details: the children in this parent–child variety show ranged widely in age, from toddlers barely one or two years old to kids as old as eight or nine. But usually, the show paired children with their actual parents.

As for her—a makeshift “mother” stepping in halfway—she had no idea what age the producers would assign her. Ideally, the older the better. If the child was already in elementary school, at least communication would be easier.

If they saddled her with a one- or two-year-old who could barely speak, then she was truly doomed.

While washing up, Gu Yining silently prayed in her heart: Please, just give me an older child.

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Unaware of Gu Yining’s inner turmoil, Bai Qingqiu and her daughter Bai Xia were caught up in their own one-sided melodramatic parting.

As a woman in her thirties, Bai Qingqiu was long accustomed to separation. She often went on business trips for two or three days at a time, and being unable to see Bai Xia wasn’t unusual. In fact, spending every single day together was the real anomaly.

Her company kept her busy—up at dawn, home at midnight—so the only times she was at home, five-year-old Bai Xia was fast asleep. Mother and daughter rarely crossed paths.

But for Bai Xia, this was the first time she would be with a stranger—no mother, no Auntie Han. No matter how well-behaved and sensible she was, she couldn’t help but feel frightened and sad. She clung to her mother’s shoulder and wailed, fat tears rolling down like beads, soaking large patches of Bai Qingqiu’s shirt.

It was a bit heartless to think this way, but seeing her normally stoic daughter crying so miserably, Bai Qingqiu didn’t feel distressed—in fact, she almost found it funny.

“Shall we not go, then?” Bai Qingqiu hugged her gently.

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford the penalty fee. The production team surely had backup candidates prepared.

But Bai Xia shook her head furiously, hiccupping through her sobs.

“No, no—hic—we, we promised them.”

For one so young, she already cared a great deal about keeping her word.

“If you keep crying, we’ll be late. Since you’ve agreed to go, then you need to be a good girl who keeps to the promised time,” Bai Qingqiu reminded her.

Sniffling hard, Bai Xia finally forced herself to stop, raised her tiny hand to wipe away her tears, then turned and burrowed into Auntie Han’s arms, still sobbing softly.

“Good girl.”

With a smile, Bai Qingqiu walked over to smooth out the rumpled hem of her fluffy princess dress. She spoke with pride and satisfaction:

“Yes, my little miss is wonderful! Let’s go now—say goodbye to Mommy.”

Aunt Han beamed as well, grasping Bai Xia’s chubby little hand and waving it toward her mother before carrying her away.

“Bye-bye, Mommy.” Bai Xia said pitifully, lying on Aunt Han’s shoulder.
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The car provided by the production team was excellent—luxurious and comfortable inside, gliding so smoothly there was barely a bump. Outside the window, the autumn scenery sped past like a painting.

Yet Gu Yining couldn’t lift her spirits.

The thought of being handed some random child—age and gender unknown—gave her a headache. If it turned out to be a girl, that would be fine. But if it was a boy, she honestly didn’t even want to film.

Every boy she had ever encountered growing up had been dirty, rowdy, and exhausting.

Since the show was both live and pre-recorded, a phone had been fixed in front of her, its screen constantly refreshing with barrage comments.

【Ningning, are you carsick? You don’t look well.】

【Oh no! Ningning, try to rest!】

【Drink some water, Ningning!】

【What’s wrong with this production team? Can’t they see she’s unwell?】

【What kind of trashy show won’t even let Ningning rest?】

“I’m fine, really. I’m not sick.” Gu Yining forced a helpless smile at the camera.

But her weary expression, paired with the dark shadows under her eyes, made her denial unconvincing.

The barrage instantly exploded.

【Ningning, stop pretending to be strong~】

【The staff must’ve had their brains slammed in a door.】

【Don’t push yourself, Ningning!】

【Are you sure you’re really okay?】

Of course, the detractors chimed in too.

【Why blame the production team? None of the other guests look sick. Besides, the video isn’t even shaky—clearly it’s a good car.】

【Ha, what an act.】

Ignoring the haters, Gu Yining curved her lips into a smile, trying to prove she was truly fine.

To her fans, though, it only looked like she was forcing herself to keep working despite feeling unwell, which made them feel even more protective.

【Ningning is too precious—this trash show doesn’t deserve her!】

【That’s it, I’m reporting the production team. Too much.】

The staff monitoring the livestream chat quickly realized things were spiraling. They radioed the crew member sitting in the passenger seat to hand her a Q&A card.

“Miss Gu, could you please answer a few questions?”

The young female staffer wore a headset and a mask. Her voice sounded soft, almost gentle.

Taking the card calmly, Gu Yining read through the questions carefully.

Since this was a parenting reality show, the questions were naturally child-related. For example: why would a single, unmarried woman choose to participate, and how would she interact with the “child” once they met?

None of it surprised her. She kept her expression composed while the in-car camera and livestream phone captured her reaction.

After a thoughtful pause, she double-checked the wording before replying:

“To be honest, one reason I joined is because my next film role is that of a mother. Since I don’t have children of my own, I wanted to use this program to learn how to be one, and how to get along with kids.”

Her candid, straightforward answer once again stirred the barrage into a frenzy.

【Ahhhh our Ningning is so genuine!】

【She’s taking this so seriously—our Film Queen Ning is the best!】

【Haha, see that, haters? Saying she’s unqualified just because she has no kids? Joke’s on you. She’s here to improve her acting, not to chase clout.】

【Please. She’s just using someone else’s kid for practice—and for exposure and money.】

【Playing mom without having kids is already absurd. Using another person’s kid on a reality show? Even worse.】

Gu Yining ignored the negativity and continued answering in order.

“As for how I’ll interact with the ‘child’, since I don’t yet know their age or gender, I can’t give a detailed answer. But I believe patience and understanding are basics you should always bring to any child. That much applies universally.”

She paused briefly, then added sincerely, “But I do prefer little girls. If my ‘child’ happens to be a sweet, soft little girl, I’ll be very happy.”

Gu Yining’s natural beauty was striking enough, but when she spoke earnestly, she became even more captivating. Unsurprisingly, the fans went wild.

【Got it—my wife likes girls. We’ll have a daughter!】

【Jealous of that kid already. I’m a daughter too, 288 months old—Ningning, look at me!】

【She’ll definitely make a wonderful mother someday. So gentle.】

Even the trolls had little to attack—just some nitpicking.

【Talk is cheap. Let’s see her actually do it.】

【Sounds nice, but she doesn’t know a thing.】

Their comments quickly drowned beneath the flood of praise and adoration.

Meanwhile, in the car behind hers, Bai Xia was strapped into a child seat, swinging her little legs. Since her participation hadn’t been officially announced yet, there was no livestream—just several cameras fixed in the car, their black lenses recording silently.

Her only company was the staff member in the passenger seat.

After being separated from her mother for a while, Bai Xia had mostly calmed down. After all, it was her who had insisted on joining the program.

Though young, she had watched plenty of television with Aunt Han and understood what a “show” was. Mommy always ignored her at home, staring at her phone or computer instead. But if she appeared on that screen too, maybe

Mommy would finally watch her.

Clenching her tiny fists for courage, Bai Xia unknowingly looked more like a child playing pretend than someone truly determined—her small figure and babyish face only adding to her cuteness.

“Pfft.”

The crew “sister” in the passenger seat, who had been secretly observing her, couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

“Jiejie!”

Bai Xia scrunched up her brows, pouting in displeasure. She stretched out her chubby little hand, trying to smack her sister’s chair, but her tiny arm couldn’t reach the backrest at all. Buckled up in her car seat, she flailed adorably.

The accompanying staff sister, her heart instantly melting like a mom fan, leaned over and gently stroked the soft hair on her head. “Alright, alright, don’t be mad, little one. Jiejie was wrong!”

“Hmph.”

She wasn’t that easy to coax. Bai Xia puffed out her cheeks, stubbornly turning her face away.

Seeing that coaxing failed, the staff sister’s eyes flickered with an idea. She pulled out a Q&A card she’d hidden in her pocket and held it up for Bai Xia to see.

“Sweetie, I’ve got a card here, but Jiejie doesn’t know how to read it. Can you help me? If you do, I’ll give you some candy!”

Doesn’t know how to read?

Bai Xia turned her head back, suspicious.

But Mommy and Auntie Han could both read. How could this jiejie not know? She could read! And besides, she already had candy, hmph.

Auntie Han had packed her plenty of cotton candy.

“Please help Jiejie, won’t you?”

As a staff member of a parenting variety show, she was naturally much more skilled than someone like Gu Yining, who had no experience at all. She fished a few fruit candies from her pocket and slipped them into Bai Xia’s hand, looking at her pitifully.

Confronted for the first time with such a mix of soft pleading and sweet bribery, Bai Xia instinctively accepted the candies, a little overwhelmed.

She gave her candy.

The little girl wavered, glancing down at the brightly wrapped sweets in her palm, then up at the sister’s pleading eyes.

Finally, she steeled herself.

“Fine, give it here!”

Bai Xia stretched out her hand, palm open, her face filled with determination.

It wasn’t because of the candy—Mommy had said she must always be a helpful little darling.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The sister smiled brightly, quickly passing the Q&A card into her hand.

The card was stiff, nothing like anything Bai Xia had handled before. It was firmer than the colorful paper they used in kindergarten. Instantly forgetting her earlier hesitation, she poked curiously at the sharp corner with her fingertip.

So hard.

After exploring the edges, she soon lost interest and remembered her task. Looking at the words carefully, she began to read them aloud.

“What… kind… of… mommy… do you hope for?”

She read each word one by one, then tilted her head in confusion, her delicate eyes blinking at the sister.

“That’s right—what kind of mommy you’d like. We’re asking you, sweetheart.”

“I already have a mommy.”

Bai Xia declared at once.

“But in this show,” the sister patiently explained, “we’ll arrange a temporary mommy to take care of you for three days, in place of your real mommy.”

Bai Xia gave a half-understood nod.

“So, the one I’ll meet later will be my mommy?”

“Yes, that’s right. You’re such a smart girl,” the sister praised without reservation.

Unable to hold back, Bai Xia broke into a smile, her dangling feet swinging even more energetically.

“Then I want her to be pretty!” she added, nodding hard for emphasis.

At that moment, Bai Xia’s beautiful mother, Gu Yining, was arriving with the crew at the filming house—a cozy, childlike homestay decorated for the show.

The fresh, bright colors, the whimsical painted furniture—everything was designed to appeal to a child’s sense of beauty.

Of course, cameras were everywhere, but each was fitted with cute animal covers, making them less intrusive.

Gu Yining stood still, her emotions stirring.

She was about to live here with a strange little child.