Chapter 256: Home
*Runze’s POV*
The estate looks exactly the same as it always does.
I don’t know what I expected, some visible change, some outward sign that everything inside it is different now. But the iron gates open the same way they always open, the gravel drive curves the same way it always curves, and the old stone facade catches the afternoon light the same way it has every time I’ve come home through these gates.
Everything is the same.
Except I am holding Siying.
There are two black cars ahead of ours and one behind, I noticed them pull out from the hospital parking level before we even reached the main road. Bael said nothing about it and I didn’t ask. Some things have simply become part of how we move through the world.
Dr. Xi kept us one more night for observation—standard procedure, he said, though I suspect Bael had something to do with the private suite being extended.
She is wrapped in the soft white blanket we picked out months ago, her face turned toward my chest, her eyes closed against the light. She has been sleeping since the hospital, through the transfer, through the car ride, through all of it — completely indifferent to the fact that she is being brought somewhere new for the first time.
Bael’s hand is at my back as we come through the front doors.
The entrance hall is quiet but not empty. The household staff are arranged in two neat lines on either side, the way they arrange themselves for significant occasions, their expressions a mixture of professional composure and barely contained joy. Xiao Mei—the young maid who screamed in the garden when my water broke—has clearly been crying recently. She is doing her best not to show it.
Mrs. Wen stands at the front.
She looks at Siying for a long moment without speaking. Her hands are clasped in front of her, her eyes bright, and when she looks up at me her face is open and warm in a way that doesn’t need words.
"Welcome home, Young Master Runze," she says. "Welcome home, little one."
Ling Yue stands right behind Mrs. Wen, unable to keep a bright, eager grin from breaking across his face. The moment Bael and I step fully into the hall, Ling Yue leans forward slightly, his eyes immediately dropping to the swaddle in my arms with genuine, unsuppressed curiosity.
"You’re actually back," Ling Yue says, stepping closer while trying, and failing, to maintain his cool composure. "Is she asleep? Can I see her?"
"She’s sleeping," I say, a small smile touching my lips as I tilt Siying slightly so he can catch a glimpse. "And if you wake her up, you’re on diaper duty."
Ling Yue takes an immediate step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender, though he can’t take his eyes off her. "Message received. But look at her, Runze... she’s beautiful."
Before he can chatter any further, Grandmother steps forward from the center of the hall, her presence commanding immediate, quiet respect. Ling Yue instinctively steps to the side.
Grandmother looks at me first, her sharp, intelligent eyes softening with a rare, undeniable warmth.
"You did well, Runze," Grandmother says softly, her voice carrying a quiet, matriarchal weight as she places a gentle hand on my arm. "Welcome home, my child."
She turns her gaze down to Siying. The formidable matriarch of the Wuchen estate leans in close, her expression melting into an utterly fond, tender look. With incredible care, she extends one finger, lightly brushing the back of her knuckle against Siying’s soft cheek.
"Look at you," Grandmother murmurs, a faint, proud smile gracing her lips before she looks back up at Bael and me. "Now get her upstairs into the warm. You need to rest, Runze."
We head directly to the nursery.
My body turns that way at the top of the stairs on pure instinct, moving toward the room we prepped for her arrival, and Bael follows right at my side. He pushes the door open, stepping inside as the mobile sways gently above the crib.
I step inside and cross to the crib. Siying remains sound asleep in my arms, her small chest rising and falling in that rapid newborn rhythm.
Very carefully, I lower her down, settling her into the center of the soft mattress, ensuring the blanket stays snugly wrapped around her tiny frame.
Siying doesn’t wake up, only letting out a tiny, contented sigh as her hands curl into loose fists near her face.
I stand back.
Bael stands beside me. His arm slides smoothly around my shoulders as he pulls me flush against his heat. We both look down at her in silence—at the dark fuzz of hair, the small mouth making faint, rhythmic movements in her sleep.
The crib doesn’t look empty anymore.
"We brought her home," I say, mostly to myself.
Bael’s grip on my shoulder warms, his thumb brushing tenderly against my skin as he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to my temple.
"She’s where she belongs," he whispers, his voice low. "With us."
***
The night at the hospital had been quiet. I don’t know why I assumed that would continue.
The first feeding goes smoothly. The second one—at eleven-thirty—goes reasonably well. By the third, at two in the morning, I have stopped being surprised by how quickly she wakes hungry. Dr. Xi told us not to wait until she is fully worked up before feeding her.
What I have not accounted for is the period between feeds when Siying is awake and fed and dry and still, inexplicably, crying.
It starts at three-forty.
A thin, sharp wail cuts through the dark, and I’m awake before I even fully open my eyes. Bael is already out of bed—his shadow moving fast toward the crib in the faint glow of the nightlight.
By the time I push myself up, Bael is already lifting Siying into his arms, supporting her head and tucking her close against his chest. But the crying doesn’t lessen; her face is flushed, her tiny fists bunched against his shirt as she wails into his shoulder.
I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress and cross the small space between us.
"Is she wet?" I ask softly, my voice raspy with sleep.
"No," Bael says, his jaw set, a rare thread of genuine helplessness running beneath his steady tone. "I checked. She’s clean, but she won’t settle."
He isn’t holding her wrong, his grip is careful, protective, precise. But she is screaming with a fierce, uncompromising demand.
"Give her to me," I say, reaching out.
Bael hands her over immediately, his hands lingering beneath mine until he’s certain I have her secure.
The second Siying hits my chest, her wails break into small, ragged hiccups. She roots against my neck, her tiny warm forehead pressing right into my skin, breathing in my scent. I don’t do anything special, I just wrap my arms around her, shifting my weight from side to side in a slow, natural rhythm.
Within two minutes, the sharp crying drops into small, shuddering snuffles.
Within four, her head grows heavy against my collarbone, her breathing smoothing out into steady, rhythmic sighs.
I look up at Bael.
He is standing in front of us, staring down at her with an intense, quiet reverence, his hand resting warm against the small of my back.
"She just wanted you," he says softly, his thumb rubbing a small circle against my spine.
"I think she knows my scent," I murmur, looking back down at her dark fuzz of hair as she breathes in deeply against my neck.
Bael gazes at the two of us for a long moment before reaching out, his large hand gently covering the back of Siying’s head, his thumb lightly stroking her soft skin.
"Then stay close," Bael rasps, his eyes lifting to meet mine in the dim light. "Let her have your scent. I’ll stay right here."