CHAPTER 139: CHAPTER 139; DON’T POUT MAMA

"Don’t pout, Mama," Yueqin chirped, twisting in her father’s lap to flash a toothy grin at her.

Yueyao blinked, startled by the sudden address, her daughter’s grin tugging a reluctant smile from her lips.

She shook her head faintly, pulling the blanket slightly higher, as though it could shield the emotions spilling into her chest.

"I’m not pouting," she murmured, but her voice was softer than she intended, betraying her.

Jin Shuren chuckled low in his throat, his hand resting easily against Yueqin’s back. "She is," he said, deliberately loud enough for Yueyao to hear.

His eyes, however, didn’t leave hers, lingering across the room with a weight that unsettled and steadied her. "Mama looks like she wants to be over here with us, doesn’t she?"

Yueqin nodded enthusiastically, her hair bouncing as she turned toward her mother again. "Yes! Mama, come sit with us. It’s warm here. You can join our team..." She patted her father’s arm as though offering proof. "See? Papa is warm like a pillow."

The words slipped into Yueyao’s chest like an arrow. She lowered her gaze, struggling against the pull of that simple invitation.

For a moment, she almost let herself rise, to cross those twenty feet that suddenly felt like a chasm and a bridge all at once.

But her hands remained fixed on the blanket, knuckles pale from holding on too tightly.

Jin Shuren didn’t press. His gaze softened, a faint curve tugging at his lips as if he understood the battle raging within her.

Instead, he adjusted Yueqin in his arms, whispering something in her ear that made her squeal with laughter.

The sound rang through the room, bright and uncontained, and before she realized it, Yueyao’s eyes had lifted, compelled to follow.

And for just an instant, when Jin Shuren looked back at her, his expression quiet, steady, unhurried, it was as though the walls of the room folded closer, shrinking the distance, pulling the three of them into something fragile yet unbearably intimate.

His gaze was unreadable, lingering a fraction longer than comfort allowed.

It was calm and heavy. His hand stroked Yueqin’s back in slow circles, but the weight of his presence pressed against Yueyao like an invisible hand at her spine, firm, unyielding, yet steadying.

"Teams change, but loyalties... don’t they remain?" His voice was low, quiet, but it reached her like a note struck inside her bones.

For a heartbeat, Yueyao’s throat tightened. She forced herself to keep her tone light, her back straight. "If loyalties are true, then they need not be spoken."

Jin Shuren’s lips were curved, not quite a smile, not quite a challenge, before he turned back to his daughter, tapping her nose gently. "You hear that? Mama is clever. You would best not plot against her too soon."

Yueqin laughed, wriggling, but Yueyao only sat in silence, her pulse drumming in her ears.

She was afraid but at the same time calm and rejuvenated. She couldn’t decide which feeling belonged to her, or which belonged to the man who had always knowingly and unknowingly cast shadows over her world.

Yueyao leaned back against the pillows, her gaze softened despite the tension thrumming beneath her ribs.

Watching them, father and daughter, she could not deny how natural the bond was. Yueqin nestled against Jin Shuren’s side as though she had always belonged there, chattering about small things with the trust of a child who had known no fear of him.

Yueyao’s own body, traitorous as it was, felt a strange current of relief at his presence.

Fear still shadowed her mind, but at the same time, the exhaustion in her bones loosened, her heartbeat slowed, and her chest no longer felt as though it were caving in. He frightened her, yes, yet being near him seemed to steady her.

"Father," Yueqin suddenly piped up, tugging his sleeve. "Tomorrow... will you and Mama both take me to school? Together?"

Yueyao’s chest tightened, a sharp inhale escaping her. Together. The word lingered, heavy and unspoken, between them.

Jin Shuren’s lips curved faintly, his deep gaze flicking toward Yueyao before resting back on the child. He stroked her hair with an absent tenderness. "If your Mama agrees, then yes, we will both escort you."

Yueyao forced her throat to loosen enough to reply. Her voice was soft, measured, betraying nothing. "Of course. We will go together."

Yueqin beamed, pleased with her victory, and after a moment of silence, she tilted her face up again, mischief lighting her eyes. "And Father... when will you give me a sibling? You promised me before, remember? You said soon I would have a baby brother or sister."

The air changed at once.

Yueyao froze, her body rigid, her palms pressing hard into her lap beneath the blanket. The words burrowed deep, stirring fragments of memories that felt too distant, too blurred, as though rewritten by someone else’s hand.

A promise she could recall her making to escape, it seemed like he had told Yueqin, and Yueqin clung to it with the conviction of a child’s faith.

Jin Shuren only chuckled softly, unbothered, as though the question carried no weight at all. His hand stilled briefly on Yueqin’s hair before moving again, a steady rhythm. "Ah, my little one... You remember everything I say, don’t you? Some promises take time. For now, isn’t it enough that you have both of us with you?"

Yueqin pouted, but her small arms tightened around him. "It’s not the same. You promised."

Yueyao’s pulse hammered in her ears, a subtle tremor running through her limbs.

Her lips parted, but no sound came. Across the room, Jin Shuren glanced at her. His eyes were calm, patient, as if he had all the time in the world. There was no urgency in him, no demand pressing against her. Only quiet possession, quiet certainty.

So long as she stayed close, so long as she remained within his reach, he needed nothing more, for now.

Yueyao opened her....