I'm the demise's white moonlight of the bigshot - Chapter 98 (Extra-14)

Chapter 98

What does it feel like to have a daughter.

Ji Ran had previously assumed that all little kids were more or less the same, but once Mianmian arrived, she realized it was completely different. Even the color scheme of her entire bedroom was exclusively shades of pink.

Even the little outfits she bought were dainty and pink.

Though she was just an infant, even her soft, whimpering little sounds were different from Shiqi’s when he was a baby, tender, delicate, and carrying a tune exclusive to baby girls.

Every little fuss and coo was laced with a tiny, milky intonation.

Even when holding Mianmian, Shen Zhi was exceptionally cautious. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been careful with Shiqi, but the feeling was simply different.

He even handled chores like changing diapers entirely by himself.

Despite possessing that naturally cold and somewhat ascetic aura, he had somehow transformed into a devoted home-style stay-at-home dad. Ji Ran had even secretly filmed a short video of him coaxing Mianmian to sleep.

In the video, he held Mianmian gently. Though his gaze wasn’t captured on camera, both his posture and his movements while holding her were filled with an innate, bone-deep tenderness and care.

As for Shiqi, Ji Ran felt she no longer needed to worry about him getting jealous, because he loved Mianmian more than anyone else.

From the very first moment he saw Mianmian at the hospital, he had worn a look of utter amazement, accompanied by an astonished gasping question, “Daddy, why is little sister so small?”

Mianmian had weighed six jin and two liang at birth, which was considered quite average for a newborn.

Of course, she still looked rather tiny.

“Little sister, little sister.” Before Shiqi had even reached the room, his voice rang out from the hallway.

Ji Ran was holding Mianmian and coaxing her to sleep. The little girl had been blinking sleepily with half-closed eyes, but startled by her older brother’s shout, her eyes snapped wide open, instantly chasing away all trace of sleepiness.

Ji Ran was left feeling somewhat amused yet exasperated.

Pushing the door open, Shiqi rushed straight to Ji Ran’s side and asked, “Mom, is little sister asleep yet?”

As he spoke, he even stood on tiptoe to peek at Mianmian in Ji Ran’s arms, leaving Ji Ran helpless. She said with a sigh, “With a voice as loud as yours, even if she were asleep, she’d be woken up.”

Realizing his mistake, the little fellow looked up at her with big, pleading eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Ji Ran bent down slightly so he could get a good look at Mianmian, lowering her gaze to tell the little girl in her arms, “Mianmian, your big brother is back from school to see you. Look how good your brother is, coming straight to see Mianmian the moment he got home.”

Unlike her newborn days when her eyes were narrow, the little girl’s eyes were growing increasingly large, showing a trend of gradually opening up.

Upon seeing Shiqi, she suddenly parted her lips into a grin.

Full-month-old babies occasionally smiled reflexively, but the fact that she smiled right after Ji Ran finished speaking made it look as though she had actually understood every word.

Shiqi immediately brightened up with joy, exclaiming, “Mom, little sister is smiling at me.”

“Mom, can I hold little sister for a moment?” Shiqi asked in a pleading tone.

Knowing that he was still too small and lacked the strength to properly hold Mianmian, Ji Ran spoke softly, “Mom will put little sister on the bed, and you can play with her there, alright?”

Shiqi nodded his little head earnestly.

After Ji Ran placed Mianmian on the bed, Shiqi kicked off his shoes, scrambled up, and sat right beside her. One moment he was reaching out a little hand to poke Mianmian’s cheek, and the next he was gently gripping her tiny hand in his palm.

Mianmian was remarkably well-behaved as well, lying on the bed and leisurely kicking her two little legs back and forth.

“Mianmian, I’m your big brother.” Shiqi leaned in close, teaching her in a milky, earnest voice.

To his astonishment, the little girl let out a babbling sound in response. Shiqi asked in delight, “Are you talking to big brother? Are you calling me?”

Sitting nearby and listening to his one-sided monologue, Ji Ran found the whole scene endlessly amusing.

She had never expected Shiqi to possess such a little drama-queen side to him, it was simply too hilarious.

“Ah, I really want to take little sister to school with me.” Shiqi sighed with a regretful tone as he reached out to stroke Mianmian’s soft cheek once more.

Ji Ran thought, “…”

The previous night, after Shen Zhi finished changing the baby’s diaper, he had sat quietly by the side of the crib staring at her for a long time before suddenly declaring, “I want to take her to the company to work with me.”

They truly were father and son, uttering the exact same sentiments.

With a mild sense of amusement, Ji Ran asked, “Does Shiqi really not want to be apart from little sister at all?”

Shiqi nodded. Looking up at Ji Ran, he asked, “Mom, when can I sleep with little sister?”

He genuinely loved Mianmian so much that he wanted to stay right beside her even when sleeping at night, though Ji Ran had continually refused because she worried his restless sleeping habits might cause him to accidentally kick her.

However, she did let the two little ones spend naptime together occasionally on weekends.

During those times, Shiqi would lie right next to Mianmian, patting her shoulder with a tiny hand and whispering, “Be a good girl, little sister. Big brother is sleeping with you.”

It wasn’t until Mianmian was born that Ji Ran truly understood why their elders had always urged them to have a second child.

Both she and Shen Zhi were only children, neither of them had experienced what it was like to have siblings. Throughout their growing-up years, their joys belonged solely to them, and their sorrows were equally solitary, with no one to share or halve their happiness.

Seeing how much Shiqi adored Mianmian now made Ji Ran feel that their choice had been entirely right, because having a sibling bound by blood ties in this world was far better than walking alone.

“Let’s do it tomorrow at noon, alright?” Knowing he didn’t have school the next day, Ji Ran readily agreed to the request.

Shiqi nodded happily and went right back to entertaining Mianmian.

When Shen Zhi returned that evening, Shiqi hurried over to chatter incessantly about all the things he and Mianmian had played together that day, specifically adding, “Daddy, little sister smiled the moment she saw me, she was so happy. Plus, Mom agreed to let me take a nap with little sister tomorrow.”

“Little sister loves to smile when she sees Daddy, too.” Shen Zhi’s expression softened slightly as the corners of his mouth curved upward.

Ji Ran was once again struck speechless. What exactly was Shen Zhi doing here? Was he staging a live performance of “The Men of the Shen Family Never Admit Defeat”?

Shooting him a sidelong glance at his antics, Ji Ran mouthed two soundless words, “Childish.”

Later that night, after both little rascals had fallen asleep, Shen Zhi climbed into bed after finishing his shower. Beside him, Ji Ran was leaning down to check emails on her phone, typing out replies while suppressing yawns, until Shen Zhi reached over and pulled her into his embrace.

“Have you been working too hard lately?” Shen Zhi murmured, looking down at the person in his arms.

Ji Ran raised an eyebrow slightly. She had just finished her month of postpartum confinement, although she hadn’t returned to the office yet, she had already begun handling work from home to avoid being completely in the dark when she went back.

Finishing her final sentence, Ji Ran put her phone down and asked, “Do I look that out of shape?”

Shen Zhi shook his head, “As radiant and stunning as ever.”

Hearing Mr. Shen’s sudden, unsolicited flattery, Ji Ran let out a light laugh. Shen Zhi reached out to massage the back of her neck with a firm yet gentle pressure that coaxed a soft murmur of pleasure from Ji Ran’s lips.

That prompted Shen Zhi to chuckle softly, “If you keep tempting me like this…”

Before he could finish, Ji Ran scoffed lightly, “Only someone with a crooked mind would jump to conclusions.”

The next second, however, she found herself pinned beneath Shen Zhi on the mattress. His lips pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck almost instantly, their slightly damp softness sending a shiver through her.

As Ji Ran chuckled softly, Shen Zhi suddenly murmured in a low voice, “Ranran, sometimes I’m genuinely terrified that I’ll wake up and find out this was all a dream.”

Like Zhuang Zhou’s butterfly dream.

Such overwhelming happiness occasionally stirred a flicker of underlying anxiety in his heart.

He was terrified that when he woke up, everything would turn out to be a phantom illusion of his own longing.

Suddenly, a sharp prick of pain flared at his neck, a genuine pinch of teeth sinking into his skin without a moment’s hesitation. When Ji Ran finally released her grip, she asked, “Did you feel that, Ah Zhi? This isn’t a dream.”

In truth, she understood Shen Zhi’s mindset completely. He had walked such a long, lonely road through solitude that he occasionally doubted whether someone like him deserved to hold such happiness.

Having her, having Shiqi, and now having Mianmian.

Yet her Ah Zhi was the finest person in the entire world, he deserved to possess everything good.

Reaching out to wrap her arms around him, Ji Ran whispered, “Ah Zhi, we are going to walk this path all the way to the end. Even when our hair turns white, we’ll still be together. When that time comes, you’re still going to hold my hand, promise?”

Her voice was as soft and light as honey-dipped pastry, exquisitely sweet and irresistible.

After a quiet pause, Shen Zhi gave a firm, unwavering response, “I promise.”

Five years later.

Outside the sports stadium, numerous parents were anxiously instructing their children not to be nervous, to read the test questions carefully, and to recall how their teachers usually approached similar problems if they encountered something difficult.

After hearing too much of it, the youngsters began showing signs of impatience.

Meanwhile, the supervising teacher held a clipboard, calling out names one by one, eliciting a crisp “Here!” with each call.

“Shen Shili,” the teacher called out, looking down at the name.

Others in the line exchanged glances, and the teacher looked up anxiously, “Is Shili not here yet?”

A little girl with a ponytail shook her head and called out, “Teacher, he’s still not here.”

Growing rather flustered, the teacher reached for her phone to call the parents, realizing the competition was set to begin in half an hour and they would genuinely be late if they didn’t arrive immediately.

“Sorry, sorry, Teacher Qin, we’re here!” As Ji Ran led Shiqi rushing over, they spotted all the students from their school waiting right there.

Seeing them finally arrive, the teacher smiled in relief, “No worries, as long as you’re here on time.”

Ji Ran offered an apologetic smile, followed immediately by the sweet, petulant voice of a little girl ringing out from behind, “Big brother, why didn’t you wait for me?”

Hearing that nearly made Ji Ran laugh in exasperation. Turning her gaze toward little Mianmian, she scolded, “If you hadn’t spent so much time choosing a dress, your brother wouldn’t almost have been late.”

The plan for today had been for the entire family to come send Shiqi off for his competition, seeing as this was his first Sudoku tournament, and a national-level one at that.

Thus, the whole family had turned out to see him off.

Even Shen Zhi had specifically cleared his schedule for the day. Yet as it turned out, none of the boys caused any trouble, instead, little Shen Mianmian ran into a crisis when she discovered that her favorite pink princess frilly dress had gone missing that morning.

Now five years old, the little girl already possessed a very distinct sense of aesthetics and personal styling.

In short: the more princess-like, the better.

Consequently, she had wept tears over wanting to wear that specific little pearl-adorned dress. Ji Ran had patiently searched for it, only to find out that the housekeeper had sent it to the laundry.

Since that was out of the question, Ji Ran offered her another pink ruffled dress instead.

The girl’s wardrobe of little dresses occupied an entire room, and the level of luxury rivaled Ji Ran’s own closet. Yet who would have guessed that Ji Ran’s alternative failed to satisfy the little princess in the slightest? She insisted on wearing her designated outfit.

She even argued with solemn righteousness that only a true princess dress would do for an occasion as important as today.

Ji Ran had smirked coldly, giving her an ultimatum: wear the dress in her hand, or the “princess” was going to get a spanking before they left the house.

The stubborn little girl had stared up at her with big, tear-rimmed eyes full of grievance, whimpering, “Mom, I want to wear the princess dress. The princess dress…”

Without missing a beat, Ji Ran started changing her clothes anyway, which promptly poked a hornet’s nest. The little girl shrieked and burst into a full-scale wail.

Even Ji Ran had been momentarily stunned.

It wasn’t until Shen Zhi hurried over to investigate the standoff between mother and daughter that things settled down. He gently scooped Mianmian into his arms, asking in a soft, soothing voice why she was crying, making the little girl look as though she had suffered the greatest injustice in the universe.

Burrowing her face into the crook of Shen Zhi’s neck, she sniffled, “Daddy, I want to wear the princess dress.”

Shen Zhi asked, “Mianmian has so many princess dresses, how would Mom know unless you tell her?”

He then personally carried the little girl into the walk-in closet to pick an outfit. Upon confirming that her favorite dress was indeed being washed, the little girl finally resigned herself to fate and chose an alternative selected by Shen Zhi.

Recalling the incident now, the little girl protested with a wronged expression, “It’s not that the princess dress wasn’t pretty, it’s that otherwise, big brother would lose face.”

Ji Ran thought, “…”

Ever since Mianmian learned how to speak, Ji Ran realized this little rascal possessed a remarkably precocious streak, she was far too clever for her age. It was her older brother’s competition, yet she acted as if it were a beauty pageant or a royal audience with her subjects.

At that moment, Shiqi reached out to pat her little head, saying softly, “Mianmian looks lovely either way.”

The ten-year-old boy possessed an exquisitely handsome face, thick eyelashes casting dense shadows against his eyelids. As he lifted or lowered his gaze, he carried a poised, serene, and steady temperament.

While he had resembled Ji Ran heavily during his early childhood, his facial features had gradually grown more and more like Shen Zhi’s as he aged.

However, his bone structure hadn’t fully matured yet, lacking the chiseled, knife-carved depth of Shen Zhi’s jawline, and instead projecting a gentle, tranquil warmth.

Gently pulling Shiqi close, Ji Ran said softly, “Since this is your first time in such a major competition, winning a prize isn’t everything. Participation counts for a lot.”

“When Mom won her first award, was she my age?”

Hearing Shiqi’s question, Ji Ran smiled and replied, “Are you saying you have to accomplish everything Mom did?”

Shiqi nodded.

Reaching out to give him a brief, comforting hug, Ji Ran whispered, “Then give it your absolute all so you won’t have any regrets. Mom believes in you.”

Before long, all the contestants filed into the competition arena.

The morning session consisted of three rounds of individual preliminary elimination heats, and only those who successfully advanced could participate in the afternoon individual finals. As a result, the morning brought out all sorts of human reactions.

Once the preliminary rounds concluded, Shiqi was the very first student to emerge, stepping out before most of the others.

So he headed to the restroom first.

As he walked out and looped around the stadium toward the designated meeting spot given by his teacher, he suddenly caught the faint sound of weeping nearby.

Curious, he walked over toward the sound and spotted a little girl wearing a white sundress and double pigtails, sitting on a step with her arms wrapped around her knees.

Her shoulders shook slightly as she kept her head down, the twin ponytails swaying slowly in the air.

It looked rather comical.

Shiqi hadn’t intended to make fun of her, but the longer he looked, the more amused he felt, until a sudden snort of laughter escaped him. That single sound startled the little girl.

The double-pigtail girl looked up at him, her large, round eyes still swimming with unshed tears, but the moment she saw him, she choked them back.

Possessing plenty of pride, she immediately forced her tears away and asked defensively, “Why are you spying on me?”

“Why are you crying?” Shiqi asked calmly.

That single question punctured the little girl’s put-on bravery like a pin to a balloon, and her expression instantly dissolved back into one of grievance.

Making a quick guess, Shiqi asked softly, “Did you do poorly in the competition?”

“No I didn’t! I’m definitely making it into the finals,” the double-pigtail girl retorted indignantly, though the redness around her eyes refused to fade.

Wuwu, actually, she was crying precisely because she felt she hadn’t done well.

How embarrassing would it be if everyone else advanced to the finals and she didn’t?

Watching her valiant efforts to hold back her tears, Shiqi found her somewhat pitiful. Reaching into his pocket, he rummaged around until he pulled out a bar of chocolate.

His mother had given it to him beforehand, telling him he could eat a piece if he felt nervous during the competition.

Yet he hadn’t the faintest idea what nervousness even felt like.

Extending his hand, he offered the chocolate toward her and said softly, “If you feel nervous during the next round, you can eat a piece of chocolate.”

The little girl lowered her gaze to stare at the chocolate in his palm, torn between wanting it and feeling too embarrassed to take it.

Seeing her hesitation, Shiqi added, “Just take it.”

Finally, the little girl reached out a tiny hand and snatched the chocolate from his palm.

With a small smile, Shiqi said, “See you in the finals this afternoon, then.”

As he turned to walk away, the little girl suddenly called out after him, “I won’t lose to you in the finals just because you gave me chocolate! I’m going to win!”

Shiqi smiled, turned his head back to look at her, and replied, “Well, if you lose in the finals, make sure you don’t cry.”

During the afternoon finals, Shiqi scanned the room and naturally spotted the familiar double pigtails tucked away in a corner. When he looked over, the little girl raised her chin and looked back at him.

The two of them exchanged a gaze as if silently tossing down a gauntlet.

Once the finals concluded, the awards ceremony followed swiftly, and as expected, Shiqi clinched the gold prize in Group A.

As he walked onto the stage to receive his trophy, he caught sight of a dejected figure with double pigtails sitting in the audience.

Clearly, she had lost to him after all.

Holding his trophy, Shiqi broke into a particularly bright smile. Even Ji Ran, who was snapping photos of him from down below, couldn’t help teasing Shen Zhi beside her, “Does our Shiqi look a little too proud of himself?”

Shen Zhi squinted slightly, noticing that Shiqi’s eyes remained fixed firmly on the double-pigtail little girl not far away.

A moment later, a smile touched his own lips as well.

When Ji Ran led Shiqi out of the stadium afterward, while Shen Zhi went ahead to fetch the car, they waited near the entrance. As Ji Ran chatted with him, the young boy held his trophy in one hand while his gaze wandered over the surroundings.

The area was a bustling sea of crowds as parents streamed out of the stadium with their children.

Depending on the results of the competition, expressions on the little ones’ faces varied wildly.

Finally, Shiqi spotted a white sundress and double pigtails huddled against a very pretty woman by the roadside, while a man standing beside them gently stroked her head.

Crying again, that little crybaby.

Noticing her son staring intently at the roadside, Ji Ran followed his gaze, but amidst the surging crowd, she had no idea who he was looking at. She asked, “What are you staring at, Shiqi?”

“Just a crybaby,” Shiqi replied, holding his trophy as a faint smile touched his lips.

Ji Ran raised an eyebrow. Finally, her eyes caught sight of the double-pigtail girl by the side of the road, whose exquisite features and pretty little dress paired with delicate, fair legs made her stand out.

Only, she looked rather unhappy at the moment.

Before long, the double-pigtail girl climbed into a car and was driven away with her parents.

Right on cue, Shen Zhi’s car pulled up. Looking at the vehicle, Shiqi suddenly turned to Ji Ran and asked, “Mom, when did you and Daddy first meet?”

In truth, Shiqi had already heard the story of his parents’ past many times over.

Young as he was, he knew that Daddy had loved Mommy deeply from a very, very young age.

Ji Ran smiled softly, her voice gentle as she answered, “Back when I was just about your age.”

Some people might be met far too early in life, but they were unquestionably the right person all along.

In the span of time, every arrangement carried an unwritten, profound depth.

Like the moment I met you.