My Queen, My Rules - Extra Chapter 7

Extra Chapter - The Daily Life of Raising a Baby (End)

Perhaps no one expected that despite Cen Sen and Ji Mingchu’s constant efforts until Yan-Bao entered second grade, they still hadn't managed to provide him with that long-promised little sister.

Over these few years, the two had seen many doctors, consulted countless nutritionists to care for their health, and even made full preparations for pregnancy multiple times. Ji Mingchu had even learned to pose in a certain way afterward in all seriousness, but there was simply no sign of a little sister coming.

As the days passed one by one, once little Cen Yan became an elementary school student, Cen Sen and Ji Mingchu slowly gave up the idea of welcoming "Zhuo-Bao." Firstly, since there were no medical issues with either of them, it could only be said that this was a matter of destiny that couldn't be forced; secondly, taking care of one elementary schooler, Cen Yan, was already enough of a headache.

Initially, they had assumed that since Cen Yan showed outstanding talent in his interests—like painting, piano, and violin—they wouldn't need to worry about his academics.

Who would have thought that after entering first grade, Cen Yan’s exam scores would hover consistently in the lower-middle tier of the class, and by second grade, he had honorably become a frequent occupant of the bottom of the list.

Looking at his returned test papers, although Cen Yan’s handwriting had the casual, uninhibited style of a primary school boy, one could see he was answering seriously.

But when examining the content of his answers, Ji Mingchu was met with a head full of question marks every single time.

"Xiao Hong bought ten new books. After finishing three, how many are left? Isn't ten minus three equal to seven? Why did you answer ten?" Ji Mingchu asked patiently, pointing at a question on the test paper marked with a bright red cross by the teacher.

Little Cen Yan looked up adorably, his three strands of messy hair standing upright on his forehead, and argued quite righteously: "Books don't fly away after you finish reading them, so of course there are still ten left."

Ji Mingchu: "But you finished reading three..."

Little Cen Yan interrupted: "Do you throw them away just because you've finished reading them? That's too wasteful! Besides, I learned an ancient poem: 'Read a book a thousand times, and its meaning will naturally reveal itself.' A book should be kept to be read many times!"

Ji Mingchu paused for a few seconds and looked at the question again.

Well, the question didn't explicitly ask how many remained unread after finishing three, so what little Cen Yan said didn't seem entirely wrong.

Before Ji Mingchu could finish mulling it over, Cen Sen, sitting on the other side, had already taken his pen and made a mark next to the question. He concluded in a deep voice: "The question was not phrased rigorously."

Little Cen Yan looked at Cen Sen with star-filled eyes and nodded in deep agreement.

Cen Sen then corrected him: "In 'Read a book a thousand times, and its meaning will naturally reveal itself,' the character for 'reveal' should be pronounced xian here. Also, this is not a poem; you could call it an idiom or classical prose."

Little Cen Yan rested his chin in his hands like a little adult, thinking for a moment before asking curiously: "Why is it pronounced xian, and why is it not a poem?"

Cen Sen was uncharacteristically patient, breaking it down for the curious baby instead of brushing him off as some parents might if they thought the child wouldn't understand.

By the time little Cen Yan finished his questioning and the family of three continued analyzing the test, Ji Mingchu realized that for almost every answer that looked absurdly wrong, little Cen Yan could provide a reason that sounded somewhat plausible, if skewed, based on his own way of thinking.

Moreover, after asking once, little Cen Yan would always lift his little face, looking at her with annoyance and confusion: "Mama, don't you think Yan-Bao didn't do anything wrong? If I didn't do anything wrong, why didn't the teacher give me a checkmark?"

Ji Mingchu: "..."

This question was truly difficult to answer. Forcing this active-minded elementary schooler to think according to conventional logic felt like a limitation for him. However, if she kept encouraging this kind of leap-frog thinking, she worried about cultivating a stubbornness in the boy that insisted on always taking the unconventional path.

As the person who usually had the most to say in the house, facing Cen Yan’s slightly aggrieved inquiry, Ji Mingchu found herself momentarily speechless, and even felt an inexplicable, motherly self-reproach for not being "good enough."

Unable to handle it, and with the elementary schooler looking at her expectantly, she could only look expectantly at the elementary schooler’s father.

The father of the elementary schooler met her gaze, raised his eyes in silent understanding, and suddenly loosened his collar. One corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, his eyes holding a hint of laughter.

After living together day and night for so many years, if Ji Mingchu didn't understand the meaning hidden behind Cen Sen’s micro-expressions, then being Mrs. Cen would have been a waste.

She silently looked away and, acting as if nothing had happened, stroked little Cen Yan’s head.

Cen Sen saw her tacit approval, and the faint smile on his lips deepened.

Little Cen Yan, completely unaware that his Dada and Mama had just reached an under-the-table "transaction" through a few small gestures and eye contact, remained caught in his own sorrow over why he didn't get a checkmark when he hadn't answered incorrectly.

Fortunately, his father, a man of his word, chose to stand on his side once the "transaction" was concluded. He told him he wasn't wrong and encouraged him to continue interpreting questions in his own way in the future. Little Cen Yan finally let out a sigh of relief, his distress fading.

After finishing the elementary schooler’s daily tutoring, the time was still early. Cen Sen called the boy’s homeroom teacher, offering his own opinions on the lack of rigor in the school’s test questions, while simultaneously engaging in a deep discussion about encouraging reasonable, diverse answers and not stifling children’s creativity.

Ji Mingchu, eating an orange on the side, squinted at him sideways, scoffing internally.

On the surface, he acted like a rare, once-in-a-century compassionate father, but in reality, he would only open his golden mouth to coax his own elementary schooler if he could squeeze some benefit out of her. Bah! Cen the Skinflint in the flesh!

Seemingly sensing this, Cen the Skinflint suddenly looked at her and pointed to his own dry throat.

Ji Mingchu understood, but she was too lazy to pay him any mind. She slanted her eyes and continued to enjoy the orange.

But just as a freshly peeled slice reached her lips, her wrist was suddenly caught.

Cen Sen leaned over, his voice calm as he continued to offer suggestions to the teacher on the phone, but his eyes were fixed on her. With slow, deliberate movements, he plucked the sweet, juicy orange slice right from her lips.

Ji Mingchu: "..."

Stealing food from a bird's beak!

Heartless!

What was even more heartless was that after finishing the call, Cen Sen put the "Cen the Skinflint" title into full practice. He scooped Ji Mingchu up horizontally and headed back to their room to collect his "benefit."


Interestingly, even though Cen Sen and Ji Mingchu tried diligently for several years, they hadn't managed to create a baby to settle that "huge debt" that little Cen Yan mentioned from time to time. Who would have thought that a chaotic "collecting of benefits" would unexpectedly result in a hit.

Having had no news for years, Ji Mingchu didn't even consider the possibility. She was over a month along without realizing it, personally going out to perform on-site surveys and drafting plans for the annual pro-bono renovation projects her studio undertook.

On a midsummer afternoon, with the sun hanging brightly and high, abruptly stepping out of the air conditioning to bake in the heat outside the old house for over ten minutes, Ji Mingchu felt a bit dizzy.

An Ning, being observant, noticed her complexion was off and hurriedly supported her, asking in a low voice.

Thinking that the person would be arriving shortly to open the door, Ji Mingchu shook her head: "I’m fine, just a little hot."

Afraid she might have heatstroke, An Ning held up an umbrella for her.

An Ning hadn't studied interior design in college, but later, while choosing elective modules, she had been assigned to this interior design course by accident because it was difficult and few students wanted to select it.

Who would have thought that the more she learned, the more interested she became? Upon graduation, after much hesitation and with Ji Mingchu’s support, she went abroad for advanced studies in interior design. After graduating and returning to China, she logically entered Ji Mingchu’s studio for an internship.

Perhaps it was that the older one gets, the more one cherishes the little family affection that remains, or perhaps it was because she had found more satisfying needs, leaving the losses of the past no longer so agonizing. Over these years, Cen Sen’s attitude toward Chen Biqing and An Ning had softened considerably. They would exchange phone calls on holidays, and he tacitly allowed little Cen Yan to call An Ning "Aunt" and Chen Biqing "Grandma."

As for the elders of the Cen family, they maintained a "don't ask, don't tell" policy regarding their interactions, choosing not to interfere.

After waiting outside for another two minutes, An Ning noticed Ji Mingchu’s complexion looking worse and worse. Before she could speak, Ji Mingchu suddenly stumbled, her eyes half-closed as she tipped backward.

"Sister-in-law!" An Ning was so frightened she let out the private name they used, barely managing to hold Ji Mingchu up while shouting for help.


In the past, when Ji Mingchu participated in a variety show about interior design, she had once fainted. When she woke up, she had been so anxious she imagined herself suffering from some incurable disease.

This time, however, she was given no room to imagine anything. As soon as she began to stir, Yan-Bao stood by the bedside, clapping his little hands and crisp-voiced, announcing the great news: "Mama, you finally woke up! You have a little sister in your tummy!"

After announcing it, he leaned in and planted a kiss on Ji Mingchu.

"Mama needs to rest. You call Grandma and Aunt and tell them you’re safe."

Cen Sen, finding him too noisy, picked him up from behind and placed him on the sofa to the right of the hospital bed.

It took Ji Mingchu quite a while to react. As she sat up, she asked: "I'm... pregnant?"

"Mm, five weeks."

Cen Sen rubbed her head and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Ji Mingchu was still a little dazed, but little Cen Yan reacted quickly, covering his eyes and dragging out his voice in disgust: "Ew—shame!"

While he said "shame," his two chubby legs were kicking excitedly up and down. Through the gaps in his fingers, one could see his grape-like eyes blinking round and wide. He smiled like a kitten that had stolen some cream, revealing a row of neat, clean little baby teeth.


With Ji Mingchu pregnant, no one was happier than the elementary schooler, Cen Yan.

His Chinese-English diary style took a sharp turn. From the previous "Today I ate , played with , what a wonderful day," it evolved into "Today is the xx day little sister has been sprouting. Mama had a check-up today, little sister is very healthy, I am so happy!"

His Chinese and English teachers were forced to grade Cen Yan’s "Little Sister Sprouting Diary" every day, and unknowingly, they also became members of the "Little Sister Growth Observation Team."

Before Ji Mingchu gave birth, the two teachers even called one after another to express their well-wishes, referring to the yet-to-be-born tiny human as "Student Cen Yan’s little sister."

In truth, Ji Mingchu and Cen Sen hadn't intentionally checked the gender during this pregnancy, and they had corrected little Cen Yan many times, telling him it might not be a little sister. But little Cen Yan would pout and refuse to listen, saying they were both big liars who had owed him a little sister for so long, and that as a kind-hearted person, he wasn't even charging interest.

Ji Mingchu had actually worried seriously for a few days, wondering if Yan-Bao would chase her for "debt collection" if she gave birth to a little brother instead.

But pregnancy was truly exhausting. She had severe morning sickness this time, and the first few months were a living hell. She didn't want to go through this ever again.

Fortunately, as little Cen Yan had wished, Ji Mingchu gave birth to a baby girl smoothly.

When they heard it was a baby girl, both Ji Mingchu and Cen Sen felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

After being in debt for several years, being chased for repayment by a little ancestor every few days was truly terrifying.


Cen Sen had drafted a name for a girl before Cen Yan was even born, so the baby had a proper name the moment she was born: Cen Zhuo.

Zhuo-Bao was a beautiful and cute girl, and her personality seemed to lean more toward Cen Sen—quiet and rarely crying or making a fuss.

But she had her own little persistence; other than her Dada, Mama, and brother, she wouldn't let anyone else hold her.

Initially, Ji Mingchu worried whether Zhuo-Bao was too quiet and if her IQ might be lagging, but it turned out Zhuo-Bao was a typical "doer" who spoke little—she mastered basic skills like rolling over, sitting, and crawling much earlier than Cen Yan.

Crushed once, crushed for life.

The quiet Cen Zhuo showed an astonishingly high IQ from the moment she could talk; she learned everything in a single attempt.

For the musicals Ji Mingchu played casually to cultivate the children’s sensibilities, Cen Zhuo could repeat several English lines after watching just once;

When building Legos for different age groups with Cen Yan, she could actually provide pointers to Cen Yan after finishing her own;

The ancient poems that Cen Yan couldn't memorize after reciting them many times at home after school, she would mouth the words to remind Cen Yan while Ji Mingchu was testing him.

The contrast was so obvious, yet Cen Yan, instead of feeling ashamed, took pride in it, bragging to everyone he met about having a beautiful, cute, and high-IQ little sister.

When Cen Yan was in the sixth grade, a bold little girl in his class confessed to him, declaring that she wanted to go to the same middle school as him later.

He rejected her seriously, acting grand and proper by saying that children shouldn't date early.

In fact, he was just saving face for the little girl; his real thought was that the little girl wasn't as excellent as his sister, and in the future, he definitely had to find a girlfriend as excellent as his sister.

When Cen Yan graduated from sixth grade, Ming Shui Mansion was undergoing renovations, and the family moved temporarily into a large flat in the city center. Ji Mingchu accidentally discovered the finished elementary school diary of the ultimate sister-obsessed Cen Yan.

"Zhuo-Bao’s eyelashes are so long, even longer than Mama’s. Is this what they call ‘the student surpassing the master’?"

"I’ve never seen a girl as well-behaved and sensible as our Zhuo-Bao. Even though Mama’s cooking tastes so strange, she can still praise it as delicious. Sigh, should I learn more from Zhuo-Bao? But the taste is really strange."

"Zhuo-Bao is two today! I helped Dada make a birthday cake for Zhuo-Bao by hand. But after Dada finished, he actually made a separate strawberry cupcake for Mama. He said Mama is a baby too, and would be jealous without a cake. When we got home, Mama really was a little jealous (although it wasn't obvious, it was still discovered by the observant me), but she started smiling again when the strawberry cupcake was brought out. Dada is truly so smart."

...

Ji Mingchu felt both amused and exasperated.

Suddenly, the familiar scent of cold fir gathered behind her. She took the opportunity to hold up the diary and complain: "Look at what your son is spouting nonsense about!"

Cen Sen glanced at it, unconcerned: "The teacher gave him an 'excellent,' so how is it nonsense?"

Ji Mingchu turned her head to meet his gaze.

The afternoon sun was warm and pleasant; the children were at school, and the house was quiet.

She suddenly looped her arms around Cen Sen’s neck and asked in a tiny voice, "Will I always be your baby?"

Cen Sen’s voice held a smile: "Yes.”