As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 31.1

“Yes, she really does look alike.” The makeup artist chimed in.

“Just do the makeup.” Gu Yining lifted her chin, signaling for her to begin. At the same time, she hugged the little one in her arms tighter, the child swaying happily after being praised.

Even the densest person could tell Gu Yining didn’t want to continue the conversation. The makeup artist fell silent and went back to her work.

She was quick and skilled. Not long after, Gu Yining heard her voice with a relieved sigh.

“All done. Open your eyes and see if you’re satisfied.”

At her words, Gu Yining opened her eyes and looked into the mirror.

The woman in the reflection had skin pale and delicate. Her brows and eyes were deepened with darker tones to highlight sharpness, the jawline contoured into striking clarity. A muted matte brick-red gloss coated her lips, giving her a look that was distant, cold, untouchable.

“Wow! So pretty!”

The little one puckered her mouth in awe, eyes sparkling.

“You’re not scared?” Gu Yining curved her lips into a smile, and instantly, her whole aura softened, warm and gentle—like a completely different person.

“Nope.”

The little one turned her head, planted a loud kiss on Gu Yining’s cheek, then burrowed against her neck with pure reliance.

“Smells like Mommy,” she murmured.

She had said the same thing last night.

So this was why the little one clung to her the moment they met? Not because she was naturally lively and outgoing, but because Gu Yining smelled like her real mother? And that was why she had been frightened seeing so many strangers today?

Gu Yining felt she had touched the truth.

But that only raised a question—what exactly was the scent the child liked?

At first she thought it was detergent, but today she wore an outfit prepared by her assistant. It carried a completely different scent from what she had worn at home yesterday.

She frowned, running through her memory. The body wash she used was the same bottle her assistant had once bought—magnolia-scented—and she had never bothered to change it. Her shampoo was the brand she always used, mint with borneol, a habit she had picked up years ago because Bai Qingqiu liked the smell of mint. She still hadn’t switched since. Body lotion, she rarely applied, so it couldn’t be that.

That narrowed it down to two things: magnolia and mint.

And both were connected to Bai Qingqiu.

Something about it felt off. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Surely it wasn’t that Bai Xia’s mother had magnolia pheromones and also liked mint, just like Bai Qingqiu?

Gu Yining rolled her eyes at the absurdity of such a thought. That would be more unbelievable than the sun rising in the west.

“Come on, it’s your turn for makeup. Sit still this time, Mom will be right next to you.”

Holding Bai Xia with one arm, Gu Yining rose from the chair. She waited until the makeup artist adjusted the height before setting down the little girl, who was dressed in a diamond-studded, extravagant princess gown.

The child’s biggest strength was her obedience. She sat straight in the chair, little hands folded neatly on her lap, not moving an inch.

Gu Yining couldn’t resist pinching her chubby cheeks with affection.

“By the way, do you have anything to drink here?” She licked her dry lips.

“Yes. What would you like? I’ll have the bar send it over. Does the little one want something too?” the makeup artist asked, pausing mid-motion with her brushes.

“I’ll have an iced Americano. What about you, sweetheart?” Gu Yining answered without hesitation, then looked down at the child.

The little girl thought hard for a while before finally chirping in her milky voice:

“Strawberry milkshake! And lots and lots of sugar!” she added, like a little grown-up.

“Too much sugar will give kids cavities,” Gu Yining chided.

But even as she said it, she nodded toward the staff at the door, signaling them to prepare it anyway.

It was fine once in a while. She would just make sure the little one brushed her teeth carefully tonight.

She herself had always loved sweets as a child. Anything sugary, she adored. But bitter food? She avoided it like the plague.

Never had she imagined she would one day drink iced Americanos.

Years ago, she refused to. If she had to drink coffee, she would choose lattes or caramel macchiatos, piling on milk foam and sugar to smother the bitterness.

She could never understand why Bai Qingqiu drank cup after cup of black coffee.

And yet, over these past four or five years, she had unknowingly become the very person she once couldn’t comprehend.

She could still drink sweet drinks, but they no longer tasted sweet. Instead, the cloying flavor dulled everything on her tongue. The bitterness of black coffee, at least, left her sharp and awake.

They hadn’t met once since their breakup. And yet, everything about her still betrayed that she couldn’t let go of Bai Qingqiu.

Pathetic.

Bai Qingqiu only realized what she had done on impulse after boarding the plane.

The roar of the engines was a constant reminder of her rash decision.

Was it really necessary?

With a helpless hand pressed to her forehead, she glanced out the window. The sky was perfectly clear, but she had no heart to admire it.

The company still had a mountain of work waiting. Aunt Han was already keeping in regular contact with the show’s crew to confirm Bai Xia’s condition. No matter how she looked at it, she had no reason to suddenly fly to the neighboring city just to check in.

What if Bai Xia was happily playing with the unfamiliar “auntie”? What if her appearance made the child cry and beg to go home?

“Sigh”

Exhaling softly, Bai Qingqiu reclined her seat and closed her eyes, caught in a whirl of conflicting emotions. At this point, she couldn’t even tell if she was being rational or completely led by her heart.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of Bai Qingqiu’s impending arrival, mother and daughter were happily sitting together, selecting photos.

The little one had originally chosen three princess gowns. After one set, she lost interest and refused to change again. Gu Yining didn’t push her, so they only took a few dozen shots—mostly together, with a handful of solo pictures.

“Xiaxia pretty!”

The little girl jabbed a chubby finger at the screen, admiring herself with smug delight.

Gu Yining followed her gaze. On the screen, Bai Xia beamed with an open, goofy smile, revealing neat rows of tiny white teeth.

It was hard not to laugh.

“Yes, our baby is the prettiest,” she forced out, suppressing her amusement as she approved the photo and clicked to the next.

It was one of their joint shots.

The smile on Gu Yining’s face froze.

In the photo, the two of them wore matching princess gowns and similar braided hairstyles. Side by side, their features mirrored each other—the brows, the nose, even the curve of their smiles were uncannily alike.

This was not something coincidence could explain.

“Sweetheart, Mom forgot to ask, how old are you this year?” Gu Yining swallowed, holding the child tightly.

“Four,” Bai Xia tilted her head, her eyes wide and innocent.

Four.

Gu Yining let out a slow breath, chest tightening as though the air had thinned.

Five years ago, If she hadn’t suffered one of those soap-opera-style bouts of amnesia, the only relationship she had ever been in—was also five years ago.

And the little one’s surname was Bai.

“Baby, the staff auntie said you can read, is that true?” Gu Yining tried her best to suppress the emotions surging inside her, but even so, her voice still trembled.

“Mhm.” Bai Xia lifted a hand to touch Gu Yining’s face, her soft little features full of worry. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, but she could sense from Gu Yining’s earlier tone—so agitated and conflicted—that something wasn’t right.

“Then, how about this: Mom will write your name on your palm, and you help Mom check if I wrote it correctly, okay?” Gu Yining pressed that warm, chubby hand firmly against her own cheek, her voice almost pleading.

The little one nodded obediently and opened her plump hand.

Gu Yining traced characters on her small palm—horizontal and vertical strokes for “wood,” then for “white,” “cypress,” and finally for “summer.”

Bai Xia.

“That’s right!” The child’s innocent, sing-song voice chimed beside her ear, so lighthearted and carefree. After saying it, the little one tried to pull her hand back, only to have Gu Yining suddenly turn her wrist and hold on tightly.

“Mom?”

The child looked up at her in confusion.

Gu Yining’s eyes widened, trying to see that small face clearly, but her vision was already blurred with tears.

“Shh, let Mom hold you.” She hastily wiped her tears away, then closed her eyes, feeling the warmth and steady heartbeat of the little one in her arms.

The photo studio the production team mentioned should be this one, Bai Qingqiu frowned slightly as she looked at the bustling crowd in front of her.

Why were there so many people? She glanced around and noticed another entrance not too far away, and lifted her foot to head in that direction.

“Excuse me, are you Ms. Bai?”

A girl in a green vest and headset squeezed out of the crowd, a staff ID dangling from her neck.

So she’s from the show.

The onlookers around also noticed, murmuring in hushed tones.

“Who is she?”

“Why is she allowed inside?”

“Probably knows someone on the crew—pulled some strings to get in.”

“I am.” Ignoring the heated stares, Bai Qingqiu nodded calmly.

“Please follow me.” The girl pulled a staff badge from her vest pocket, handed it to her, and started leading the way.

Bai Qingqiu casually put the badge around her neck and stepped through the entrance. The moment she entered the photo studio, the noise and gazes from outside were shut away behind her.

She looked up at the modest studio interior—small, but decorated warmly and tastefully. Acceptable enough.

“Where is Bai Xia shooting?” she asked without turning, her eyes on the racks of princess dresses in the distance.

“She’s upstairs—oh, Sister Gu.”

The staffer cut herself off mid-sentence, her tone shifting instantly to respectful greeting.

Sister Gu?

Bai Qingqiu’s heart clenched. A bad feeling rose in her chest, though she immediately scolded herself for being ridiculous. There were plenty of people with the surname Gu—it couldn’t possibly be Gu Yining. Besides, Gu Yining had always disliked children. How could she possibly agree to a parent-child variety show? With that thought, Bai Qingqiu forced her nerves to ease a little.

“Long time no see.”

The familiar yet distant voice struck like a bolt of lightning, shattering the fragile illusion she clung to. Bai Qingqiu’s fingertips went cold as she slowly turned around.

Gu Yining was standing just a few paces away. Her black hair was braided into a crown, her appearance elegant and poised, perfectly matching the light blue-and-white tulle princess dress she wore. In her arms, a little girl in the exact same dress, with a matching braid and sparkling tiara, nestled comfortably.

From looks to styling, the pair were shockingly alike. The only difference was in their expressions: Gu Yining’s face was calm, her gaze unfathomably complex, while Bai Xia’s face lit up in sheer delight. She grinned, showing a row of tiny milk teeth, and reached her arms out toward Bai Qingqiu.

“Mommy!” the child squealed in a sweet, milky voice.

Bai Qingqiu pressed her lips together, stepped forward, and gathered her into her arms. At once, the little one hugged her neck tight, clinging and nuzzling like a puppy. Her neat hairstyle quickly unraveled into a fluffy mess, tickling against Bai Qingqiu’s neck.