As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 36

When Bai Xia returned, Bai Qingqiu was at work, as usual. Aunt Han knew that she didn’t like being disturbed while working, so she naturally didn’t bring Bai Xia into the room. Bai Qingqiu went through a few calls and signed a stack of documents. It wasn’t until the coffee pot on her desk ran empty that she got up to refill it, and that’s when she noticed Bai Xia in the adjacent playroom, building with blocks.

The little figure had her back to her, not even as tall as the block castle she was constructing—but the castle itself was impressively detailed. Watchtowers, walls, pointed roofs—everything was there. Such a small child, yet even without an adult around, she wasn’t crying or fussing, completely absorbed in her task. Bai Qingqiu didn’t have the time to be with her, and Aunt Han had her own work. There was no one to watch over her every hour. Most of the time, Bai Xia passed the day with her toys, picture books, and building blocks.

After school, Aunt Han would occasionally take her to the playground to meet other children, but Bai Xia never showed much interest, preferring to play quietly in a corner. The main reason Bai Qingqiu had reluctantly agreed to let her participate in that program was to give her a chance to meet new friends, to see more people.

She hadn’t expected Bai Xia to run into Gu Yining—someone she hadn’t seen in years.

And yet, the two seemed to get along quite well.

That wasn’t a bad thing, at least for Bai Xia.

Bai Qingqiu didn’t interrupt her and quietly walked away.

Aunt Han was busy in the kitchen. Something was simmering in a pot, bubbles rising in the boiling broth, and the faint bitterness of reishi mushrooms filled the air. Everything felt so warm and ordinary. With Aunt Han around, the home always carried a sense of everyday life. Ever since Bai Qingqiu’s mother had passed and she had been living with relatives, she hadn’t felt this kind of domestic warmth.

It wasn’t until she met Aunt Han and hired her as a live-in nanny that these houses finally began to feel like a “home.”

Bai Qingqiu’s heart stirred. She opened the door slowly, careful not to break the almost dreamlike scene.

The sound of the sliding door alerted Aunt Han. Hearing someone come in, she set down the dough in her hands and turned, softly calling out,

“Miss Bai.”

Her face creased into a gentle, kind smile, her hands and apron dusted with flour.

“Mm,” Bai Qingqiu said, walking over and setting down the empty coffee pot. “When did you and Bai Xia get back?” she asked, naturally resting her hands on the marble countertop.

“Around four in the afternoon, I guess. We weren’t gone long,” Aunt Han replied as she turned back to knead the dough, deftly dividing it into small portions.

“Did she misbehave?” Although Bai Xia wasn’t the type to act out, this was the first time she had been away from both Aunt Han and home for so long. Bai Qingqiu occasionally traveled for work; during those times, Bai Xia stayed home for school under Aunt Han’s care. Bai Xia had gotten used to her absence, but being away from Aunt Han was something new, so any reaction would be normal.

“No, young miss was very well-behaved,” Aunt Han said, shaking her head.

Hearing this, Bai Qingqiu felt neither relief nor sadness. A child Bai Xia’s age learning to be sensible and independent wasn’t necessarily a good thing. If she had been clingy or thrown tantrums like other children, neither Bai Qingqiu nor Aunt Han would have been able to satisfy her.

Perhaps that was why fate allowed Bai Xia to meet Gu Yining—having another relative nearby was better than none at all.

“If it ever gets too much, let me know, and I can formally hire a home cleaner,” Bai Qingqiu said. She wasn’t used to strangers in the house. Household cleaning had always been handled by Aunt Han and a part-time cleaner when she wasn’t home. Bai Qingqiu herself spent little time at home and didn’t disrupt the daily upkeep. Now, with Bai Xia four years old, she realized Aunt Han’s workload had changed, even if Bai Xia was easy to care for.

If Aunt Han didn’t say anything, Bai Qingqiu would have remained completely unaware—never considering it. Truly, she was a failed parent and employer.

Only Aunt Han could tolerate her flawed nature.

Thinking this, Bai Qingqiu raised her hand as if to pat her shoulder—but paused mid-air, and eventually withdrew it.

“No trouble at all. The space isn’t as big as before; it’s manageable,” Aunt Han replied, unaware of the hesitation.

“You’ve worked hard all these years,” Bai Qingqiu sighed.

This wasn’t a mere pleasantry. Over the years, Aunt Han had become more than an employee—she had, in a sense, become a mother figure. She had stayed by Bai Qingqiu’s side when she was helpless, raising even Bai Xia on her own. Bai Qingqiu could only repay her with the monthly wages she sent, but Aunt Han rarely indulged in luxuries, spending her days off taking Bai Xia out to play.

“It’s nothing,” Aunt Han waved her hand, her face clearly pleased and content.

“I’m going back to work,” Bai Qingqiu said softly. “If anything comes up, you can come to me. I’m not very busy these days.”

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen,” Aunt Han reassured her.

With fresh coffee in hand, Bai Qingqiu still didn’t rush back to work. A quick glance at her child wouldn’t hurt. Bai Xia, rummaging through things, saw her and leaped excitedly into her arms. The force nearly made the coffee pot slip from Bai Qingqiu’s hand.

“Mommy!” Bai Xia, small and unaware of what she was holding, stood on tiptoe to reach higher.

“Mm.” Bai Qingqiu responded, setting the coffee pot on the toy cabinet before bending down and lifting her as requested. The little one, warm and sweetly scented, snuggled against her, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck, heavy in her embrace.

Bai Xia blinked, reaching for a stray lock of hair, twisting it around her tiny fingers, letting it slip and twisting again. She had done this since she was very small—even before she had met Gu Yining, back when she still drank from a bottle.

The wonder of genetics was remarkable.

Bai Xia was careful not to pull too hard. Bai Qingqiu lowered her head, letting her play with the strands.

The hair coiled around her tiny fingers, slipped, and fell. Bai Xia lifted her face to catch it, wrinkling her small nose to sniff.

“What do you smell?” Bai Qingqiu asked, brushing a stray wispy lock from her forehead.

“Mommy’s scent,” Bai Xia replied, pressing her face against her mother and nuzzling repeatedly.

Bai Qingqiu patted her back, holding her like that until the child fidgeted, restless. Then she asked carefully,

“You and that mommy, how are you two getting along?” Bai Qingqiu chose her words cautiously. She had been busy and hadn’t paid attention to that livestream before. From what she had seen, the two seemed to get along, and Gu Yining would never mistreat Bai Xia—but she still wanted to hear Bai Xia’s own thoughts.

“Great!” Bai Xia tilted her head in Bai Qingqiu’s arms, suddenly remembering something. She patted her shoulder, signaling to be put down.

Bai Qingqiu obliged, and the little girl slid from her arms, immediately diving into the suitcase she had just opened, rifling through its contents. The neatly arranged clothes and items were scattered as she dug around. Bai Qingqiu waited patiently, and soon enough, Bai Xia emerged holding two colorful bags of handmade candy, rushing back into her arms.

“These little one is for Xiaxia, and the big one is for Mommy.” Bai Xia said, handing over the larger bag, which was full of cotton candy. The smaller bag contained tightly packed cylindrical hard candies, each adorned with colorful patterns—fruits, little animals, and more.

“Thank you. Did Xiaxia buy these herself, or did Auntie get them?” Bai Qingqiu asked, though she already had her suspicions. Bai Xia loved sweets, but Bai Qingqiu had set rules: she would only go buy candy once a month. Today wasn’t candy day, so it was unlikely Bai Xia had insisted on buying them herself.

“Auntie took me,” Bai Xia replied as expected. “I was very good, so I only got a little.” She pinched her fingers together to emphasize how little, afraid of making her mad.

Indeed, it wasn’t much—her bag was only slightly larger than her palm, though still more than what she could normally buy. But since it was a gift from Gu Yining, Bai Qingqiu decided not to fuss over it.

“Then in a few days, no more candy. I’ll tell Aunt Han not to take you on candy day,” Bai Qingqiu said.

Bai Xia pouted but still nodded obediently.

“Do you still want to film with that auntie in the future?” Bai Qingqiu crouched down, holding her hand. “But you can’t film for too long. School is starting soon, so you need to think carefully.” Her tone carried a subtle disapproval.

Though four years old, Bai Xia had enough understanding to pick up on her expressions and even respond accordingly. Bai Qingqiu didn’t treat her entirely like a child—not because she opposed Bai Xia interacting with Gu Yining, but because Gu Yining, as a public figure, would inevitably attract online scrutiny. And since Bai Xia was Gu Yining’s child, some people would overthink things, creating unnecessary complications.

If Gu Yining wanted to see Bai Xia, she was welcome to visit—Bai Qingqiu wouldn’t stop her, as long as there were no photos taken secretly.

Under her gaze, Bai Xia nodded, then shook her head again, her small face twisted in an almost grown-up kind of indecision.

“What are you thinking about?” Bai Qingqiu asked directly.

“Mommy doesn’t want to, and Xiaxia doesn’t want to,” Bai Xia said, her chubby little hands fidgeting together. “But Auntie would be sad.”

“You can have Auntie come over to play at home,” Bai Qingqiu concluded. “How about that?” Though phrased as a question, her tone left little doubt about the answer she expected.

Bai Xia nodded, falling silent.

Bai Qingqiu patted her head in satisfaction, then stood and picked up the coffee pot.

“Mommy’s going to work. If you need anything, you can call for Mommy or go find aunt Han in the kitchen, okay?” she reminded her before leaving.

“Okay.” Bai Xia clutched her bag of candy, standing quietly at the door.

Gu Yining learned about Bai Xia leaving the show the next morning. The production team had clearly anticipated such a scenario, already arranging for another girl of a similar age to take her place. The reason given was simple and clichéd:
Health reasons.

Health reasons? Bai Xia had been perfectly healthy just the day before when saying goodbye—there was no way she suddenly became incapable of normal life in half a day.

Gu Yining wasn’t surprised. Just because Bai Qingqiu hadn’t spoken on the filming day didn’t mean she agreed to Bai Xia continuing with the show. Liking to play with someone didn’t automatically grant permission for ongoing interaction.

Bai Qingqiu was used to making decisions alone—once she decided, no one could argue.

In a few days, though, BaiXing’s anniversary red carpet would arrive. Gu Yining would inevitably need to discuss Bai Xia’s situation with her again.

Both parties were still heated; taking a few days to cool down would benefit everyone.

Bai Qingqiu returned to her study, set down the coffee pot, and lightly tapped her fingers on the desk, her mind unable to focus on work.

Bai Xia was still young. If Bai Qingqiu asked her to stop seeing Gu Yining, Bai Xia would comply without hesitation. But she needed to figure out how to manage Bai Xia’s relationship with Gu Yining.

Bai Xia had an innate closeness to Gu Yining—an attachment not easily severed.

Bai Qingqiu picked up her phone, hesitating to call Gu Yining. The brief conversation during filming had been less about Bai Xia and more about venting each other’s emotions.

But just two days apart—would talking really make any substantial difference?

With that thought, Bai Qingqiu put the phone down, deciding to wait until the anniversary red carpet. Face-to-face conversation would be far more effective than phone or text. Since Gu Yining had accepted the invitation, it showed she wanted the meeting too.

Before then, Bai Qingqiu needed time to sort her thoughts and observe Bai Xia’s reactions.

Meanwhile, Bai Xia continued building with blocks in the playroom, her small hands skillfully connecting the pieces, her expression serious with concentration. She knew Mommy was working next door, so she kept quiet to avoid disturbing her.

Xiaxia was a good girl—Mommy liked good girls.

In the kitchen, Aunt Han saw that the soup was nearly done. She wiped flour from her hands and went to the playroom doorway, speaking softly.

“Little Miss, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

Bai Xia looked up from her blocks, nodded vigorously, and stood to greet her.

Aunt Han took her tiny hand, bent down to lift her, and carried her to the dining room, walking down the corridor together, past the door Bai Qingqiu had left open deliberately.

In Aunt Han’s arms, Bai Xia whispered questions about dinner and other everyday matters. Aunt Han answered each one patiently, reminding her to speak quietly since Mommy hadn’t closed the door—she might be in a meeting, and it would be bad if she was disturbed.

Hearing the movement, Bai Qingqiu looked up and caught a glimpse, her lips curling into a faint, unconscious smile.