That evening, when Little Tong went to find Zhong Jin with a cupping-marked mouth identical to Bear Two’s, even Zhong Jin was momentarily stunned:
"What happened to your mouth?"
Little Tong picked up a cup from the coffee table, pressed its rim against her lips to demonstrate, then pulled it away: "Like this—suck, and then like this."
Zhong Jin pinched Little Tong’s cheeks, tilting her face up to examine the dark ring around her mouth. His expression was one of disbelief:
"You got this from sucking a cup? Does it hurt?"
"Nope." Little Tong waved her hand dismissively, then sniffled. "Daddy, I’m hungry."
"You really do have a dog’s nose."
Zhong Jin stood and walked to the kitchen, slipping on oven mitts before pulling a roasted chicken from the oven.
As he shredded the meat, Little Tong strained on tiptoe, her chubby hands gripping the edge of the table, wrinkling her nose as she inhaled the aroma so hard that tiny dimples formed on the backs of her hands.
Zhong Jin blew on a piece of chicken to cool it, then held it to her lips. Little Tong leaped up like a puppy, snapping it into her mouth.
After shredding the rest of the chicken, Zhong Jin brought out two freshly squeezed orange juices he’d prepared earlier. He placed one glass and a small plate of chicken on a new child-sized dining table, then lifted Little Tong into the seat.
Clinking her glass against Zhong Jin’s, Little Tong took a big gulp, leaving a streak of orange juice on her upper lip.
Zhong Jin wiped her mouth with a napkin, asking again, "Your mouth really doesn’t hurt?"
"Nope."
Little Tong glanced at him nonchalantly, then grabbed a drumstick with both hands, taking a huge bite that sent juices dribbling down her chin.
Zhong Jin wiped her mouth again.
This kid enjoyed everything she ate—unlike Assistant Fang’s child, who was a nightmare at mealtimes.
Once during a company dinner, Assistant Fang had brought his daughter along. The girl had to be chased around with a bowl, fed while watching cartoons. The sight had given Zhong Jin a headache.
Once his relationship with Little Tong could be made public, he’d have her put on a mealtime performance in front of Assistant Fang. The guy would be green with envy.
The thought of the future made Zhong Jin restless. He couldn’t keep living in secrecy like this.
He decided to talk to Qiu Sheng that weekend. Even if she insisted on "keeping the child and cutting out the father," a paternity test would prove Little Tong was his daughter. The law would still protect a biological father’s rights.
Lost in thought, Zhong Jin was snapped back to reality when Little Tong raised her juice glass for another toast.
The routine was the same as previous nights: after Little Tong ate her fill, Zhong Jin brushed her teeth, washed her hands, and sent her home.
Though reluctant to let her go, he worried Qiu Sheng might wake up in the middle of the night and panic if she found her daughter missing.
After Little Tong left, Zhong Jin downed the remaining orange juice in his glass. Staring at the empty cup, a thought struck him: Could sucking a cup really leave marks like that?
As if guided by an invisible force, he pressed the cup to his own lips.
Pop!
The next morning, Zhong Jin arrived at the office wearing a face mask.
In the parking lot, he ran into Fang Weiyi. Assistant Fang jogged over, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the mask. "Boss, are you sick?"
Zhong Jin nodded calmly. "Mm."
Assistant Fang immediately grew concerned. "What’s wrong? Why come to work if you’re unwell? Need me to get you medicine?"
"Just a slight cold. It’s nothing."
They reached the lobby, where the entry system required facial recognition.
Zhong Jin queued behind several employees, who immediately stepped aside upon noticing him.
"No need." He gestured for them to proceed first.
Though masked, the resolve in his eyes left no room for argument. The employees swiftly scanned their faces and hurried through the turnstile.
Zhong Jin then glanced at Fang Weiyi, who grinned obsequiously. "After you, Boss."
But Zhong Jin’s gaze drifted past him, locking onto something in the distance. Puzzled, Assistant Fang turned to look.
Seizing the moment, Zhong Jin yanked down his mask, scanned his face, and strode through the gate, leaving Fang Weiyi behind.
Meanwhile, a few blocks away, Qiu Sheng and Little Tong woke up, mother and daughter sporting identical cupping-marked mouths as they stood solemnly side by side at the bathroom sink, brushing their teeth.
After washing up, they headed to the dining table where Aunt Liang had already set breakfast. Qiu Sheng lifted Little Tong into her high chair.
When Aunt Liang emerged with a tray, the pair looked up simultaneously—giving her the uncanny impression of Bear One and Bear Two brought to life. She hastily set down the sandwiches, retreated to the kitchen, and leaned against the sliding door, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Having feasted on roasted chicken at her father’s place the night before, Little Tong had no appetite. She nibbled half-heartedly on some lettuce before reaching for Qiu Sheng.
"Mommy, I’m done. Carry me."
Noticing the barely touched food, Qiu Sheng felt her forehead—no fever—and studied her energetic demeanor. No signs of illness, so why the sudden loss of appetite?
After breakfast, Qiu Sheng decided to take Little Tong to the hospital.
They went to an upscale private facility, part of the same group as Du Xin’s postpartum care center. Expensive, serene, and impeccably serviced.
Qiu Sheng wore a mask and had initially put one on Little Tong, but the girl found it stifling and tore it off the moment they stepped outside.
At the hospital, routine tests showed no abnormalities.
The doctor suggested, "If you’re still concerned, we could do a full physical exam."
Since Little Tong had never had one before, Qiu Sheng agreed. They were already here—might as well get a comprehensive checkup for peace of mind.
A nurse handed Qiu Sheng a small urine cup. "Mommy, we’ll need a sample for a few tests."
Clutching the front of her hospital gown, Little Tong stammered nervously, "S-sorry Auntie, I don’t think... I... I can’t swallow that."
The nurse, speaking in adorable Taiwanese-accented Mandarin, clarified, "...Zhong Yuntong, sweetheart, it’s for testing, not drinking."
Little Tong blinked. "I don’t understand."
After Qiu Sheng finished laughing, she spent several minutes explaining why urine samples were necessary before Little Tong reluctantly complied.
Then came the blood draw. Little Tong extended her arm to the doctor, burying her face in Qiu Sheng’s chest, teeth clenched in silence throughout.
It was already noon by the time all the medical check-up items were completed. Since the hospital was close to the postpartum care center, Qiu Sheng took Little Tong along to visit Du Xin and the baby.
Du Xin had just stepped out of the yoga room when she ran into Qiu Sheng and Little Tong in the hallway. The first thing she noticed was Little Tong’s mouth, and she asked in surprise, "What happened to your mouth?"
Little Tong answered loudly, "I sucked it out myself with my bottle! My mom has one too!"
Du Xin pulled down Qiu Sheng’s mask for a quick look, then let it snap back into place, calmly remarking, "It’s just bruising from negative pressure suction. It’ll fade in a few days."
Since it was lunchtime, Du Xin had the postpartum nanny order meals from the cafeteria and invited Qiu Sheng and Little Tong to stay for lunch.
Qiu Sheng worriedly told Du Xin that Little Tong had suddenly lost her appetite in the mornings lately. Du Xin offered some detailed suggestions, like letting the child eat less at dinner—sometimes overeating at night could lead to poor digestion, leaving no room for breakfast.
As the two adults chatted, Little Tong tiptoed to peek into the crib at Qiu Tianle. She stuck her finger inside, and the baby immediately grabbed it with a surprisingly strong grip. Little Tong tried pulling her hand back several times but couldn’t free it.
With one hand still trapped in Qiu Tianle’s grasp, Little Tong raised her other hand and, without hesitation, gave the tiny baby a light smack.
The baby burst into loud wails, and Little Tong’s lips trembled before she, too, started crying.
Between sobs, she loudly defended herself, "He wouldn’t let go of my hand! He used all his strength!"
"How much strength could a baby that small possibly have?" Qiu Sheng asked, baffled.
Du Xin explained calmly, "It’s the grasp reflex. At this age, if you place a finger in their palm, they’ll instinctively grip it tightly—enough to support their own body weight."
After a pause, Qiu Sheng turned to Little Tong and said, "Sweetheart, next time, don’t give him your hand. It’s just a reflex—he won’t let go on his own."
Du Xin added, "If he doesn’t let go, just smack him twice."
Qiu Sheng: "......You’re really his birth mother, huh."
Du Xin laughed carelessly. "Little Tong just scared him—she didn’t actually hit him. I saw it clearly; her hand didn’t touch Tianle’s head. She smacked the crib railing instead."
Since Qiu Tianle had already been fed, Du Xin prepared half a bottle of milk for Little Tong using the stored infant formula. Little Tong clutched her bottle, taking a few sips before proudly waving it in front of the baby.
But then Qiu Tianle grabbed the bottle handle. Qiu Sheng quickly intervened, tickling the baby’s palm to loosen his grip and rescue the bottle.
Little Tong puffed out her chest and declared, "If he grabs me, I’ll smack him twice."
Qiu Sheng gently reasoned with her, "He’s too little to hit now. If you want to fight, wait until he grows up."
Little Tong raised a finger solemnly. "Even when he’s big, we can’t fight. Because then his parents will make him study all the time."
Qiu Sheng gave her a thumbs-up. "You’re absolutely right, sweetheart."
Little Tong patted Qiu Tianle’s nearly bald head sympathetically. "Ah, poor kid."
During lunch, Little Tong suddenly had an idea. "Mom, I want to go swimming."
So after the meal, she took a short nap while the private pool was prepared, then spent the afternoon dog-paddling in the water.
When a nurse asked about her bruised mouth, Little Tong proudly repeated, "I sucked it out with my bottle!" She even pulled down Qiu Sheng’s mask to show off. "My mom has one too!"
Qiu Sheng’s face burned with embarrassment, wishing she could vanish into the ground.
That evening, when Little Tong went to find Zhong Jin, she noticed he also had a "bear mouth." Excited, she asked, "Daddy, did you suck a bottle too?"
Zhong Jin kept his head down, placing crabs into the steamer, pretending not to hear.
He couldn’t bring himself to answer that question.
Luckily, Little Tong was distracted by a new basketball hoop toy in the living room and ran off to play, dropping the subject.
Zhong Jin had bought the toy to keep Little Tong active, worried her constant snacking might make her chubby.
She had only shot a few baskets when Zhong Jin finished steaming the seafood. He washed her hands, then lifted her into the high chair.
The little foodie happily devoured the crab meat Zhong Jin cracked open for her, chattering away:
"Daddy, I went swimming today. Can you swim?"
"Mm, I can."
Zhong Jin mixed crab roe with rice in a small bowl and set it before her. Little Tong scooped up a big spoonful, chewed, swallowed, then announced:
"You can swim too? Great! I’ll take you to the postpartum center pool!"
Zhong Jin: "......I probably can’t go there. Next time, I’ll take you to a public pool."
Then he remembered the neglected pool in their villa’s backyard. It could be restored by summer for her to use at home.
As Little Tong kept talking, her voice gradually softened. Zhong Jin looked up to find her slumped against the chair, fast asleep.
He glanced at the freshly peeled shrimp in his hand and muttered, "Kid didn’t even get to eat these."
Little Tong’s eyes suddenly flew open. "I want shrimp!"
The abruptness startled Zhong Jin.
After two shrimp, she truly was out cold this time, her chubby cheeks smeared with crab roe and rice grains, head lolling back against the chair like a warm, fluffy crab roe dumpling.
Zhong Jin wiped her face and hands clean with a damp cloth, then carried her limp, sleeping form from the chair. No amount of jostling woke her.
Seeing her peaceful expression, he couldn’t bear to rouse her. The clock read 1:15 AM—Qiu Sheng likely wouldn’t wake at this hour.
So he settled onto the sofa with Little Tong curled in his arms. The house was warm, and the meal left him drowsy too. Yawning repeatedly, he gradually drifted off.
Qiu Sheng woke around 2 AM. Reaching out, she found Little Tong missing. Knowing her daughter sometimes wandered at night, she wasn’t immediately alarmed. She slipped on a robe and went searching.
Nightlights illuminated the house as Qiu Sheng checked every room—no sign of the child.
She turned on the main lights, peeking behind curtains, inside closets, under furniture, all while softly calling Little Tong’s name.
Only after scouring every possible spot without success did panic truly set in.
Her first thought was to call the police, but after gripping her phone and typing in the emergency number, Qiu Sheng hesitated for a moment.
Little Tong’s origins were so peculiar—what if something supernatural happened during the search for the child? That would only complicate things further.
After only a few seconds of hesitation, Qiu Sheng deleted the emergency number and instead called Qiu Chen, telling him Little Tong was missing and asking him to come over.
After hanging up, Qiu Sheng felt her heart pounding violently, her limbs numb.
But she forced herself to stay calm. Crying or panicking would only make things worse. Once composed, she remembered—though there were no security cameras at home, Little Tong had a smartwatch. Before bed, she had been wearing it, projecting a flashlight onto the ceiling to play.
Qiu Sheng immediately opened her phone to check the watch’s location.
The watch’s GPS showed it was in the villa district where Tao Siyuan lived. The movement trail was a straight line from their home to the villa, even cutting directly across a fairly large lake.
Qiu Sheng was baffled. Was the watch malfunctioning?
She checked earlier records—the daytime routes matched reality perfectly, but the nighttime logs were a mess. Some nights, the watch stayed at home, while on others, it showed Little Tong flying in a straight line from their house to the villa.
One night, the watch even showed her flying from home to the villa, then to a park, lingering near the children’s playground for half an hour before flying back.
Qiu Sheng was completely lost.
Just as she was drowning in confusion, Qiu Chen arrived—with Du Xin in tow. Qiu Chen had been staying at the postpartum care center when he got the call, and Du Xin, overhearing that Little Tong was missing, threw on her coat and came along.
“Why are you here?” Qiu Sheng asked.
Du Xin waved a hand. “Your brother’s too timid. I was afraid he wouldn’t handle it well.”
Sure enough, when Qiu Chen saw the watch’s nighttime movement logs, his face turned ghostly pale. It was Du Xin who took charge:
“Whatever’s going on, let’s go check it out first.”
Seeing Du Xin was dressed warmly, Qiu Sheng nodded. “Fine, let’s go.”
As the car neared the location, the map’s details sharpened. Qiu Sheng realized the watch wasn’t pointing to Tao Siyuan’s villa—it was further east.
By the time they reached the destination and saw the lights still on inside, the three in the car had already guessed the truth.
That troublemaker had gone to see her father.
Zhong Jin was startled awake by knocking. His eyes opened to find a child sleeping soundly in his arms, his arm numb and tingling from being pinned under her.
After a few more knocks, Qiu Sheng’s voice came through the intercom:
“Zhong Jin, open the door. I know you’re home.”
Zhong Jin glanced at the still-sleeping child. Their secret was out. But there was no turning back now—he had to face it sooner or later. He set the child on the sofa and went to open the door.
The bright hallway light fell on Qiu Sheng’s face. The two stared at each other in silence, both sporting identical “cupping marks” on their lips.
Zhong Jin: “You’re here?”
Qiu Sheng: “Where’s Little Tong?”
“Come in first.” Zhong Jin stepped aside.
The group filed into the living room. Qiu Chen and Du Xin lagged behind, and Qiu Chen whispered, “What’s up with their mouths?”
Du Xin answered flatly, “Subcutaneous bruising from suction.”
Qiu Chen: “…That’s not what I meant.”
In the living room, Little Tong had already clambered up from the sofa, her hair a tangled mess, lips marked just like her parents’. Blinking drowsily at the sudden crowd, she gave a guilty grin:
“Heh heh.”
Qiu Sheng sat stiffly on a chair, arms crossed, glaring at Zhong Jin before shifting her gaze to the guilty little troublemaker. Her tone was accusatory:
“How long has this been going on?”
Zhong Jin thought for a moment and gave an exact date.
Qiu Sheng scoffed. “So it’s been that long.”
“I’m her father too,” Zhong Jin reminded her calmly.
Another tense silence.
Qiu Sheng pressed coldly, “How did you meet every night? Did you pick her up? Did you tamper with her watch? The movement logs don’t make sense.”
Zhong Jin turned to the child, who was nearly dozing off again against the sofa. “Zhong Yuntong, show your mom how you come to see me.”
The little girl yawned, her body gradually turning translucent.
Qiu Sheng’s eyes widened in alarm. “Little Tong, don’t go!”
Qiu Chen, who had been sitting properly, tumbled off the sofa in fright. Du Xin rolled her eyes and hauled him back up.
Little Tong’s half-transparent body solidified again. She yawned impatiently.
“Are you done yet? I wanna sleep.”
Zhong Jin raised his brows innocently. “She has a supernatural ability—she can move freely between dimensions. It’s not like I kidnapped her. She forced her way into my life.”
Qiu Sheng shuddered at the thought—all this time, the child had been sneaking out while she slept. Thank goodness she only came to Zhong Jin’s place. What if she’d run into danger?
She knelt before Little Tong, speaking gravely. “Sweetheart, you must never do this again. It’s too dangerous.”
Qiu Chen, dabbing his forehead with a tissue, muttered, “Dangerous for her, or for the people she scares?”
“Shut up,” Du Xin said, shoving an apple into his hands. “Eat something.”
The adults kept talking, but Little Tong, rubbing her head against the sofa back, whined again:
“Ugh, I said I’m tired!”
This time, they finally noticed. Qiu Sheng stood and scooped her up, heading for the door.
Zhong Jin followed, taking the child when he saw Qiu Sheng struggling. “Let me help you to the car.”
Since Little Tong’s arrival, Qiu Chen’s car had been fitted with a child seat. Zhong Jin buckled her in, pinched her cheek, then turned to Qiu Sheng.
“You’re still living in your old place, right? I’ll visit tomorrow to discuss custody arrangements.”
Qiu Sheng stared straight ahead, giving her ex—the one who’d “stolen” their child—nothing but a cold hum in response.
Early the next morning, Zhong Jin, dressed in a crisp high-end suit and wearing a black face mask, knocked on Qiu Sheng's door, carrying a bag of fruits and snacks along with a box of children's milk powder.
The one who answered the door was Aunt Liang. She blocked the entrance, eyeing Zhong Jin suspiciously. "Who are you?"
Zhong Jin handed her his business card and introduced himself briefly. "I'm Zhong Yuntong's father, Qiu Sheng's ex-husband. I'm here to see the child."
Though the information he provided was correct, Aunt Liang remained wary. She closed the door and first went to the bedroom to consult Qiu Sheng before returning to let him in.
"Come in and wait for now. They're still asleep," she said.
Zhong Jin stepped inside and handed the items he brought to Aunt Liang. Noticing him waiting for slippers, she said, "We don't have men's slippers in the house."
"Got it," Zhong Jin replied, removing his leather shoes and walking barefoot into the living room.
He took a seat on the sofa. Qiu Sheng emerged from the bedroom in her pajamas, greeted him sleepily, and then shuffled back to her room.
Aunt Liang approached and asked, "Would you like tea or coffee?"
"Either is fine," Zhong Jin answered.
A short while later, Aunt Liang brought out a cup of coffee and placed it in front of him. She stood by the coffee table, observing as Zhong Jin made no move to drink it.
"Can't you take off your mask?" she asked.
After a brief pause, Zhong Jin calmly removed his mask and took a sip of the coffee.
Aunt Liang, being a highly professional housekeeper, offered no comment on the cupping marks around his mouth. She simply turned away composedly and hurried back to the kitchen.
