As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 50

Gu Yining had originally planned to come see Bai Xia as soon as filming wrapped up. But by the time shooting ended yesterday, even the crew she’d been working with could tell she was forcing herself to hold on. So, she didn’t push it—she went home, slept properly, recharged, and only then came over to spend time with Bai Xia.

She’d also brought a box of LEGO from a brand-new overseas collaboration, specially asked for from abroad. It hadn’t even hit the domestic market yet—Little Xia would definitely love it. Imagining those bright, sparkling eyes lighting up at the sight of the bricks, Gu Yining entered the villa in high spirits, her steps noticeably lighter.

Yet the moment she stepped into the living room, what greeted her was neither Bai Xia’s delighted dash into her arms nor her soft, childish greeting. Instead, the entire villa was steeped in an unusual, heavy silence that made her heart sink.

“Miss Gu, you’re here.” Aunt Han poked her head out from the kitchen when she heard the sound.

“Oh.” Gu Yining answered softly. Affected by the atmosphere, she instinctively set the LEGO down gently, her confusion quickly fermenting into unease. “Aunt Han, where’s Xia Xia?” It wasn’t early morning or late at night—there was no reason she should still be asleep.

“She’s in her room.” Aunt Han lifted a small covered stew bowl from the island and turned toward her. A faint medicinal scent drifted out through the vent in the lid. It was only then that Gu Yining noticed the fatigue and worry etched across Aunt Han’s face.

Gu Yining’s heart tightened. She immediately realized that something had happened—very likely involving Xia Xia. Before she could ask, Aunt Han spoke in a low voice, her words filled with unconcealed concern.

“She’s not feeling well. She developed a fever in the middle of the night—not very high, just over thirty-seven degrees, not quite thirty-eight. But she’s very listless and has been fussy. I stewed a medicinal egg with brown sugar. If I can coax her into drinking it and sweating a bit, she should feel better.”

They exchanged a look, both pairs of eyes filled with the same worry for Bai Xia.

“Aunt Han, let me go upstairs with you. I want to see how she’s doing,” Gu Yining said, the urgency in her voice something she herself hadn’t even noticed.

“Alright.” Of course, Aunt Han wouldn’t refuse.

Gu Yining followed behind her, deliberately lightening her steps. The two of them slowly arrived at Bai Xia’s door. The door to the children’s room was slightly ajar, quiet—yet faint sobbing could be heard from inside.

Gu Yining halted, frowned, then quickened her pace, reaching the bedside before Aunt Han.

Bai Xia’s small body was wrapped tightly in the blanket, only a little face flushed red with fever exposed as she curled up on the bed. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she whimpered in discomfort, long curled lashes still damp with tears.

“Xia Xia?” Gu Yining’s heart ached beyond measure. She immediately sat down by the bed and reached out to touch her daughter’s forehead. The heat was alarming—hot enough to burn her hand, enough to make her heart race.

Hearing her voice, Bai Xia groggily opened her eyes. When she recognized Gu Yining, she spoke weakly.

“Aunt Gu.”

“I’m here.” Gu Yining softened her voice and bent closer, gently touching her burning forehead. The child who had seemed so well-behaved moments ago suddenly felt that soothing, reassuring touch. Her little mouth puckered, and she broke down crying in grievance.

So young, and she didn’t even know who she took after—already learned to endure things on her own, even when sick. Looking at the child’s pitiful state, Gu Yining felt as if her heart was being clenched tight, aching and swollen with pain. If she’d known, no matter how exhausted she was yesterday, she should have come to see her.

“There, there, Aunt’s here. Don’t cry, don’t cry.” She hurriedly lifted Bai Xia into her arms, instinctively patting her back as she murmured comfort.

During their exchange, Aunt Han had been watching silently from a short distance. Now she stepped closer, picked up a thin blanket from the bed, and carefully draped it over Bai Xia.

“She was wrapped too tightly just now—need to be careful she doesn’t catch a chill,” Aunt Han explained gently.

Gu Yining gave her a grateful look.

Bai Xia’s small body burned like a little furnace. Curled in Gu Yining’s arms, she whimpered softly, uncomfortable. Her soft hair pressed against Gu Yining’s neck, damp with sweat. Gu Yining touched her cheek again—it was dry, not a trace of perspiration.

Gu Yining had little experience caring for children. But she had once been a child herself, had had fevers too. She realized this meant the fever was too intense for her to sweat properly—being stifled like this would only make it worse.

“Xia Xia, are you hungry? Aunt Han made some sweet egg custard with brown sugar. Do you want some? It’s very sweet—really tasty,” Gu Yining said gently, tilting her head toward the child in her arms.

“No.” Bai Xia furrowed her tiny brows, answering through her sobs.

Gu Yining could only continue patting her back softly, her heart growing more anxious and tender as she did what little she could to soothe her.

“How did a chill turn into a fever like this? Has she seen a doctor?” she asked, lifting her head to look at Aunt Han, whose face was just as worried.

“Not yet,” Aunt Han said, distressed. A sick child who wouldn’t even eat sweets was not a good sign.

Gu Yining was about to say they should take her to the hospital immediately when she suddenly remembered that Bai Xia’s legal guardian was actually Bai Qingqiu. Her patting paused, and she hesitated before asking, “Where’s Bai Qingqiu?”

It was a perfectly normal question, but Aunt Han looked even more uncomfortable.

“Miss Bai is resting in her room. She worked through the night at the company yesterday—she looks completely exhausted. It’s better not to disturb her.”

Resting? No matter how tired she was, her daughter had a fever this bad. Even if she was asleep and unaware, waking her wouldn’t count as a disturbance.

Gu Yining made a swift decision and passed the child into Aunt Han’s arms.

“Aunt Han, please help Xia Xia change into clothes suitable for going to the hospital. I’ll talk to Bai Qingqiu—we need to take her to see a doctor.”

“Miss Gu, this,” Aunt Han looked troubled. Holding the child, she couldn’t reach out to stop her, so she took a few steps forward, half-blocking her path. “Miss Bai has always disliked being disturbed while resting. Besides, children getting fevers is quite normal. Take some medicine, sleep it off, and it’ll pass.”

Being stopped like this wasn’t entirely unexpected. Still, Gu Yining felt that, no matter what, they needed to go to the hospital and get proper tests done for peace of mind. She didn’t blame Aunt Han, explaining patiently instead.

“It’s normal for children to have fevers, yes—but look how uncomfortable Xia Xia is. And going to the hospital isn’t a bad thing. Seeing a doctor, getting proper tests, having the results—we’ll all feel more at ease. Don’t you agree?”

If Gu Yining had gained anything over the past five years, it was this: knowing how to say the right thing at the right time, often with an effect she herself hadn’t anticipated. Just like now—her words were reasonable and well-measured.

Unless there was some major conflict, Aunt Han really had no grounds left to stop her.

Back at BaiXing, everything had been decided by Bai Qingqiu. Daily matters were handled entirely by managers and assistants. Gu Yining only needed—and was only allowed—to obey instructions and follow the schedule step by step.

After leaving BaiXing for the Big Three, she encountered far more social situations. Even if she hadn’t known how before, she learned.

Sure enough, after hearing her out, Aunt Han lowered her head and looked at Bai Xia, who was still crying softly. In silence, she stepped aside to clear the way.

Gu Yining nodded to her in gratitude and quickened her pace. She stopped in front of Bai Qingqiu’s tightly closed door and, without hesitation, knocked.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The knock echoed with particular clarity in the otherwise silent corridor.

There was no response from inside.

Gu Yining felt a flicker of confusion. She knew all too well how light Bai Qingqiu’s sleep was—normally, even the slightest noise would have woken her.

But there was no time to dwell on that now. Bai Xia was still running a fever. Suppressing her impatience, Gu Yining raised her hand again, curled her fingers, and knocked harder.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The rapid knocks rang out in succession. At last, there was movement from within the room.

“What is it?”

It was Bai Qingqiu. Her voice carried the hoarse fatigue of someone just awakened, yet beneath it, Gu Yining could clearly hear a trace of irritation.

Gu Yining pressed down the displeasure rising in her chest and explained as calmly as she could.

“It’s me—Gu Yining. Bai Xia’s fever still hasn’t gone down. She’s really uncomfortable, keeps crying, and won’t eat anything. I’m taking her to the hospital. Do you want to come with us?”

Silence followed.

Gu Yining couldn’t understand what there was to consider, but she said nothing, waiting quietly for an answer as her heart slowly sank.

After a while, Bai Qingqiu spoke again. This time, the groggy hoarseness was gone, replaced by the familiar cool decisiveness she used at work.

“No. Let Aunt Han take her. I need to go back to the company to deal with work.”

The words landed heavily.

Gu Yining parted her lips in disbelief, wanting to say something—Bai Xia was suffering so badly. Even if Bai Qingqiu didn’t go to the hospital herself, couldn’t she at least ask about the child’s condition? Was work really that important?

Important enough that she couldn’t even spare a word of concern?

A vague, chilling sense of disappointment spread from deep within Gu Yining’s chest. She took a deep breath, nodded, and replied with a quiet, “Alright.”

There was no point arguing now. Ensuring Bai Xia’s safety came first.

She was about to turn and go fetch the child when Bai Qingqiu suddenly spoke again.

“Wait.”

It was as if Bai Qingqiu could see through the door.

“You’d better not go either,” her voice came through the door, muffled but strikingly clear. “There are a lot of reporters watching you lately. Private hospitals always have paparazzi camped outside. If you’re photographed carrying a child into a hospital, how are you going to explain it? It won’t be good for you—or for the child.”

Gu Yining froze in place.

Bai Qingqiu’s words were like a bucket of cold water, dousing all the frustration and urgency burning in her heart.

She was right. The storm stirred up by Bei Nanyan had only just subsided, and the Big Three had already started making things difficult for her. If she was photographed taking Xiao Xia to the hospital at a moment like this, no matter how BaiXing tried to protect her, the Big Three would only be willing to pay an even higher price to exploit it.

Her intention not to renew her contract had become obvious enough. The only thing missing was an open fallout.

There was no reason for the Big Three to sit back and watch an actress with both popularity and controversy safely sign with a rival company.

Rationally, everything Bai Qingqiu said was correct.

Emotionally, the thought that the little girl was suffering while she couldn’t even stay by her side made Gu Yining’s chest ache.

Countless thoughts churned through her mind. In the end, reason prevailed. Just as she was about to agree, Bai Qingqiu added:

“If you’re worried, send your assistant to meet Aunt Han at the hospital and stay with Bai Xia during the checkup. Have her report back to you in real time. I’ve already notified the driver—she’ll be at the door shortly.”

“Alright. I understand.” Gu Yining took a deep breath and replied.

She turned to leave. Just as she was about to walk away from Bai Qingqiu’s door, she said softly, “Thank you.”

Back in the children’s room, Aunt Han had already packed all the documents and supplies needed for the hospital into her shoulder bag. Bai Xia’s hair had been redone into neat little braids, and the child rested obediently against Aunt

Han’s shoulder.

“Aunt Han, I’ve spoken to Bai Qingqiu. She’s agreed,” Gu Yining said. “I’ll trouble you to take Xiao Xia to the hospital. I’ve arranged for my assistant, Xiao Li, to wait for you there. If you need anything, just let her know. She’ll also drive you back afterward—please take some time to rest. Thank you for your hard work.”

“It’s no trouble at all. This is what I should do,” Aunt Han replied quickly.

She bent down to pick up her bag, said goodbye, and carried Bai Xia out.

Gu Yining followed them to the front gate of the villa. Not long after, just as expected, the driver—Aunt Dong—pulled up.

Gu Yining opened the door of the nanny van, helped Aunt Han and Bai Xia inside, and gave the driver a few instructions before watching the car pull away.

As the van gradually disappeared from sight, Gu Yining felt drained. She returned to the living room, sat down listlessly, took out her phone, and began searching online for posts about children with fevers.

She was so absorbed that she didn’t even notice Bai Qingqiu coming downstairs—until she heard English words, presumably about work, spoken as Bai Qingqiu was leaving.

She was going to the company?

Gu Yining didn’t look up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bai Qingqiu already fully made up, sleeves rolled neatly, striding out of the villa with brisk efficiency.

From beginning to end, Bai Qingqiu never once glanced toward the sofa where Gu Yining sat.