As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 29

“No matter what, things between me and Bai Qingqiu ended five years ago. I have no desire to ever see her again. This time, I’ll let it go—I’ll go. But from now on, don’t meddle in my business, and don’t act like you know what’s best for me. How I choose to deal with her is between me and her, no one else.”

With that, Gu Yining ended the unpleasant call first. She drew several deep breaths before she could shake off the dizziness brought on by the surge of anger.

But within seconds, she realized what she had just blurted out in the heat of the moment.

Between her and Bai Qingqiu?

As if Bai Qingqiu still had anything to do with her. Whatever there had been, it was more than five years in the past.

What right did she have to tell Bei Nanyan not to interfere in “her and Bai Qingqiu’s matters”? More so when she herself was nothing more than Bei Nanyan’s stand-in.

Both her and Bei Nanyan knew this perfectly well.

Bei Nanyan was probably smug about it too—having a woman love her so much that every person she sought afterward was just a shadow of her.

No. Why was she letting her mind wander to this nonsense again?

Was she really going to let this woman haunt her for the rest of her life? Just because she had been her first love?

Why should she?

Besides, apart from her annoying habit of being overbearing, Bei Nanyan wasn’t actually bad to her. Why start a fight with her over Bai Qingqiu? Her advice was well-intentioned. Standing united against outsiders had always been their unspoken understanding.

Though she still couldn’t fathom why Bei Nanyan seemed to hate Bai Qingqiu even more than she did.

It was over. No need to dwell on it anymore.

Gu Yining walked to the sink and stared at her own reflection—red-rimmed eyes, messy hair, a disheveled mess.

Instead of torturing herself over a sordid affair that should have ended five years ago, she might as well check on whether Bai Xia had slept well.

Just thinking of Bai Xia scattered the gloom weighing on her chest.

Gu Yining carefully cracked open the bedroom door and peeked inside.

The blanket she had tucked around the little one earlier had vanished, now lying crumpled at her feet. Her strawberry-bear pajamas had ridden up, exposing a round, pale little belly.

This Bai Xia.

Gu Yining pressed her lips together in a smile and tiptoed into the room like a thief. She was about to pull the pajamas down and cover her with the quilt when the little one suddenly sensed her presence, eyes snapping open. Those big, glossy black eyes locked straight onto her, startling Gu Yining so badly she nearly stumbled.

“Pfft—hahaha!”

The little girl sat up, covering her mouth as she giggled.

“You little rascal—trying to scare Mommy, are you?”

Gu Yining tapped her lightly on the head, feigning annoyance. The child wasn’t fooled in the least. She hopped off the bed and threw her arms around Gu Yining’s waist.

“Mommy, I’m as tall as you now!” She stretched out her chubby little hand, comparing the tops of their heads.

Gu Yining chuckled, ruffling her soft hair, and let the comment slide.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

The chatterbox who had talked all day suddenly went quiet. In the glow of the night-light, Gu Yining could clearly see the tips of her ears flushing red.

And that shy, embarrassed expression.

So proud, yet so bashful.

“Do you usually sleep with Mommy at home?” Gu Yining asked.

“No.” The little one shook her head first, then twisted the hem of her pajamas with both hands. In a voice so soft it was barely audible, she added, “I sleep with Auntie.”

The moment she said it, her face turned scarlet. She buried herself into Gu Yining’s arms, clinging tightly to her neck, refusing to come out no matter how Gu Yining coaxed.

Such a bashful, stubborn little thing. Gu Yining couldn’t help laughing softly, patting her back and humming comfortingly.

“Alright then, tonight Mommy will sleep with you. How’s that?”

“Okay.”

Her babyish voice was sweet and soft, but she still didn’t let go, clinging like a koala. Gu Yining bent down, trying to put her back in bed, but the child wouldn’t loosen her grip, pressing her full weight against her.

And suddenly—an image she shouldn’t have recalled surfaced.

Five years ago, Bai Qingqiu had come home reeking of alcohol, dead drunk, hanging onto her just like this, refusing to let go.

Funny, really. Even their surnames were similar.

One “Bai,” one “Bai.”

Perhaps she, Gu Yining, was destined never to escape the trap of women with that surname.

She lowered her gaze, glanced at the fluffy head nestled against her, and gently peeled her off, tucking her under the blanket. Before the little one could pout, Gu Yining slipped under the covers beside her.

Sure enough, the child instantly brightened, burrowing into her arms and chirping in that soft, milky voice,

“Mommy.”

“Mm, I’m here. Sleep now.”

But the good mood she had just felt was gone, replaced by the heavy shadow of memories of Bai Qingqiu. Her tone inevitably cooled.

Children always sensed adult moods. Lost in her thoughts, Gu Yining didn’t notice when the little one quietly loosened her arms and, leaning against her arm, silently closed her eyes.

It wasn’t until the sound of even, gentle breaths reached her ears that Gu Yining snapped out of her daze. She looked down to see the little girl already fast asleep, a faint smile lingering on her delicate features—as if she was dreaming of something wonderful.

Maybe it was a sweet candy.

Maybe a shopping trip with Mommy.

Maybe a fun new toy.

Children’s worlds were that pure, that simple.

In that instant, Gu Yining felt herself relax too. The suffocating heaviness in her chest melted away. She lowered her head, brushing her lips softly over the child’s milk-scented hair. The little one stirred, yawned, then burrowed deeper into her arms, curling up tightly and falling back into sleep, completely defenseless.

Gu Yining carefully wrapped her arms around her, holding her close.

Though yesterday’s episode had left its mark, that was something to deal with next week. For now, it was better to focus on these three days with her little one.

Morning sunlight spilled through the window, warming them both. Gu Yining slowly opened her eyes, only to realize her left arm—the one the little girl had been sleeping on—was completely numb.

No matter how small or light, having an arm pinned down all night took its toll.

She hissed quietly at the sharp ache spreading through her limb and carefully tried to slide it out from under the child. Even moving as gently as possible, the little one stirred with a soft whimper, rubbed her eyes, and woke.

“Mommy.”

That drowsy, milky voice was still heavy with sleep.

“You’re awake?”

Gu Yining used her right hand to brush away the wisps of hair stuck to her cheek.

“Mm.” The little girl sat still, obediently letting her fuss.

“Shall Mommy take you to wash up and brush your teeth?”

“Okay.”

She nodded without hesitation. Her twin ponytails from yesterday were long undone, leaving a wild mop of soft hair standing in all directions. With that eager nod, it puffed up like a brown-black dandelion.

The sight made Gu Yining’s eyes curve in amusement.

The little one, not understanding why, stretched out her arms for a hug, her face still dazed with sleep.

“Hug.”

Afraid she might laugh outright if she stared any longer, Gu Yining bent down quickly and scooped her up with ease.

Yesterday she had still been clumsy, needing the girl to cling tight to hold on. After half a day together, she had learned the knack of carrying her properly.

The little one was content in her arms, looping her arms around Gu Yining’s neck and resting her head on her shoulder, already looking drowsy again.

At Gu Yining’s height, carrying her felt no different from holding a doll—light, effortless, no burden at all. Passing by the phone stand, she even had a hand free to casually turn the livestream back on.

This show didn’t place strict requirements on livestream duration. After all, there were still cameras rolling; later, the post-production team could edit the footage into an episode. That gave the participants plenty of freedom compared to other programs that constantly assigned tasks and scheduled activities. It was relatively relaxed.

Fans who had been waiting eagerly swarmed into the livestream room, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of Gu Yining’s stylish figure as she carried a child away in one arm.

【？？？？？】

【Ahhhh I want to see Ningning, not just her back!】

【Excuse me, but is this a still-frame background livestream, not a parent-child program livestream?】

【The one above—hahaha I can’t stop laughing!】

Whatever noise her fans were making behind the screen, Gu Yining paid it no mind. Fourteen hours into the parent-child program, she encountered her second major challenge.

The first had been yesterday’s sweet-and-sour ribs. Even though she’d followed the recipe diligently, the dish still turned out bland and tasteless. Forget the little one—even she couldn’t stomach it. The only consolation was that at least it had been cooked through, so there were no safety issues.

The second challenge was happening right now.

Gu Yining held a comb in one hand, while with her sore left hand she tried to gather up the silky strands of the little one’s soft hair. If she pulled too tightly, it didn’t look right; if she held more loosely, the whole thing slipped through her fingers.

Gu Yining: ?

Yes, she was a woman, but she only knew how to tie her own hair—not someone else’s, and certainly not such fine, wispy strands on a child’s head.

The little one noticed her troubled expression, tilted her head to think for a few seconds, and then said:

“Mommy, I don’t want my hair tied. Pretty!” After declaring this, she even smoothed her hair down with exaggerated seriousness.

Thank you, sweetheart.

Gu Yining felt her heart melt into softness. But even though the weather wasn’t as hot anymore, leaving the child’s hair loose would still be inconvenient—it would tangle easily and get messy. She needed to tie it up.

Besides, she was planning to take her out for a day of fun. She had to look neat and pretty.

The show had only asked her to take care of the child, not to stay cooped up indoors.

And just because she couldn’t do it, didn’t mean no one else could.

“Sweetheart.” Gu Yining crouched down to meet Bai Xia’s gaze. “How about Mommy takes you out to play today?”

“Yes!!!”

Of course, no four-year-old would refuse such an invitation. Bai Xia’s eyes lit up, and her body wiggled with excitement until she nearly tumbled off the chair.

While Gu Yining was informing the crew to prepare for outdoor filming, Bai Qingqiu had just risen from bed and gone to the dining room for breakfast.

On the large dining table sat only a glass of milk and a plate with fried eggs and sausage. The child’s booster seat opposite her, once always occupied, was empty.

It felt strange, resting at home and not seeing the little one for the first time.

Bai Qingqiu lifted the glass of milk and took a sip. The rich sweetness filled her mouth instantly—but it wasn’t a taste she liked.

Her brows knitted.

Aunt Han, who had just placed bread on the table, noticed her reaction and quickly realized the mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Bai. I forgot the young lady isn’t home today and added sugar to the milk.” Her face was full of apology.

“It’s fine.” Bai Qingqiu picked up a piece of egg to offset the sweetness, speaking lightly.

She wasn’t the sort of person to fuss over such things.

Even so, she set down her chopsticks and stared at the cup of sweetened milk.

Both Bai Xia and Gu Yining had a sweet tooth, so she had long grown accustomed to the presence of sugary foods at home. Four years living with Gu Yining, four more with Bai Xia—eight years had made sweet flavors almost second nature.

Just like she’d grown used to having a lively little girl bouncing around the house.

And now, with that presence gone, the sudden quiet felt strangely unsettling.

Outside, flanked by two cameramen carrying equipment, Gu Yining held Bai Xia—dressed in an ornate princess dress—in her arms. Drawing attention was unavoidable. A thick crowd of fans and curious onlookers surrounded them, phones raised to record.

Looking down at the little girl clutching her arm in terror, tears welling in her eyes, Gu Yining immediately regretted her reckless decision.

She herself was used to living under public scrutiny, but Bai Xia was so young. Surrounded by strangers like this, of course she’d be frightened.

Her heart aching with guilt, Gu Yining quickened her pace.

“Please make way.”

Her voice was cool as she addressed the crowd, her expression far from pleasant. Coupled with her tall, 176 cm frame, she carried enough presence that the jostling crowd reluctantly parted to form a path.

Ignoring their stares, she strode into the photo studio she had booked in advance. The staff quickly shut the door behind them, shutting out the noise and gawking eyes.

Only then, in the relative calm of the studio, did Bai Xia dare lift her head from Gu Yining’s chest.

“Mommy.”

She whimpered pitifully through her tears.

Gu Yining’s heart nearly broke.

“Mommy’s here, sweetheart.” She rubbed the child’s back in soft reassurance, overwhelmed with guilt.

“Mommy, wuwuwu…” The comfort only triggered the release of her pent-up fear, and Bai Xia burst into loud sobs.

“Too many people, they scared you, didn’t they?” Seeing this little girl—who had always held back her tears—so frightened and miserable, Gu Yining felt her chest tighten painfully. Her voice trembled.

“Mm.”

Bai Xia hiccupped her response. Perhaps the soothing worked, or perhaps she had simply cried herself out, but she gradually calmed down. Her small body still shivered faintly from the aftereffects.

“You’re such a brave girl.”

Gu Yining accepted a tissue from a staff member, carefully wiping away the streaks of tears.

“Xia Xia pretty!” the little one suddenly piped up as she lifted her chin for Gu Yining to clean her face.

The hand holding the tissue froze. Gu Yining blinked in confusion at her.

“Take picture! Pretty!” Her eyes were still red, her face streaked with tears, but like a little adult she waved her chubby hand toward the staff who had been waiting nearby.

“Yes, we’ll take beautiful photos. And soon, an auntie will give our little princess a gorgeous hairstyle, with a sparkly crown—the prettiest kind!” Gu Yining couldn’t help but laugh, gently pinching her dainty nose as she spoke tenderly.

Yes, this had been her solution: let the professionals style Bai Xia’s hair while taking photos. Not only would she look lovely, but they would also have a keepsake they could cherish later.

The show would end, but the photos would remain.

Only a dozen hours into this “temporary parenthood,” and already she had grown genuinely fond of this well-behaved, cheeky little girl.

She didn’t have a daughter, nor did she want children. Yet she couldn’t help but wish she had a Bai Xia. But reality was unyielding: eventually they would part, because Bai Xia had her own family.

All she could do was make sure their limited time together was filled with joy.

The child, of course, knew nothing of these tangled emotions. Having recovered, she now bounced happily in Gu Yining’s arms, eyes sparkling at the racks of pretty dresses in the studio.

“Mommy! Pretty dresses!”

She tapped Gu Yining’s arm in excitement, urging her forward.

“Alright, Mommy will take you to pick one.”

Snapping out of her reverie, Gu Yining adjusted her hold on the girl and carried her toward the luxurious, fairy-tale-like clothing section.

Rows of children’s princess gowns hung in all their layered, lace-trimmed glory. Some had hems inlaid with tiny pearls and crystals that glittered under the lights, dazzling and dreamlike.

It was a little girl’s paradise.

In her arms, Bai Xia reacted like a mouse dropped into a rice jar—overwhelmed and blissfully happy. She didn’t know what to touch or admire first, gaping silently in awe.

“Pick whichever one you like.”

Watching her delight, Gu Yining felt a wave of satisfaction. Despite the scare earlier, coming here had been the right decision.

She had guessed from the way Bai Xia looked when they first met that she loved dressing up pretty.

“Mm-mm.”

The girl was too absorbed to reply, eyes glued to the gowns. Just as Gu Yining was about to tease her, she suddenly looked up, as if remembering something.

“Mommy, can we get photos? I want to show Mommy.”

It took Gu Yining a moment to parse which “Mommy” she meant, but then she understood: Bai Xia wanted to know if they could print photos to take home to show her real mommy.

“Of course.” Gu Yining smiled warmly. “But, how about we make a deal? Why don’t you call me ‘Mom’ instead of ‘Mami’?”

Having Bai Xia call her “Mommy” all the time only led to confusion—who exactly was being addressed? And besides, it didn’t feel right to take the title from Bai Xia’s real mommy.