Transmigration: Raising the Child of the Male Lead Boss

The night before the day when Yu Yaoyao would have to leave for the script-reading, Shen Yichong made her go to bed early. He woke up early next morning to instruct the maid to prepare tea, juice and lozenges. He helped pack Yu Yaoyao’s bag choosing each outfit with care. He estimated that the script-reading might go on for three days and the progress will depend on the Director’s decision.

“If disagreements occur, or if the screenwriter needs to change some scenes,” he explained, “It might take longer than a day. If the meeting ends too late, just rest in a nearby hotel.”

The intensity, effort and the energy of Director Qi hang’s script-reading would be very high. In the past, Yu Yaoyao had only played small roles and most times she was done with her scenes in one take. The only time-consuming parts were the make-ups and the waiting. This time it would be different. The second female lead would have a lot of screen time and a lot of scenes, and the director was known for his NG shots. The shoot would tire her immensely.

Shen Yichong was worried about her. She was energetic and ate a lot, but she was still skinny. “Drink plenty of water to keep yourself hydrated,” he insisted, “And protect your throat while reading the lines. Don’t strain your voice too much.” He looked at her, full of concern. “Don’t push yourself too hard. I also packed some essential oils which you can use when going to sleep, to soothe your mind. I packed black tea, too, since you can’t drink coffee. If the crew orders milk tea, get yours with less sugar.”

He suggested things one by one, off the top of his head. He didn’t feel so worried even when his son went on his kindergarten field trips. At least, there would be a teacher to take care of his son. Director Qi Hang, on the contrary, was known to overwork his artists when he was excited about the scenes in his movie. If he could, he would have just followed her.

“Alright,” she said, “Understood!” They were having breakfast, and she was still drowsy from waking up so early. Shen Yichong, fussing over her, made her sleepier. Even Shen Rui wondered if his mother had heard anything his dad had said.

When Ni Yi came to pick her up, Little Bun repeated every advice that his father had uttered. Yu Yaoyao was speechless. Did her whole family think her an idiot? But their concern and their fussing warmed her heart. Shen Yichong picked Little Bun in his arms and walked her till the door. They waved at her as she got into the nanny car and left. Shen Yichong and Little Bun looked at each other, concerned.

“Dad, do you think mum might lose weight because of all the work by the time she is back?” asked Little Bun.

Shen Yichong thought about this and started to get more worried. Unlike her staying home where she could have full meals, tea, desserts and snacks with Ren Sitong, the portion of meals in the crew would be fixed. Maybe she would be too tired, and it would affect her diet too. She was already skinny as it was, she couldn’t afford to lose any more weight. He wondered if Director Qi Hang would require the actors to stand while reading the line. If he did, she would be too tired to do anything after. He looked at Little Bun.

“I will send a text to her soon, she will be fine,” he assured Little Bun, “I will also inform Ni Yi to figure out a way to get her food if she is hungry.”

Little Bun nodded. “Let’s call her at night to see if she is tired,” he said, “The first minute mommy is away, miss her; the second minute mommy is away, miss her….” That was what Yu Yaoyao used to say to her son and he had memorized the line.

Shen Yichong looked at the slumped figure of Little Bun in his arm, thinking whether he should tell his son that this way of speaking was undesirable. But his heart felt empty at the moment, there was a sense of sadness. He missed her too.

“Dad, go to work,” said Little Bun, “I will go to school, too. If we get busy, we will feel better.”

He looked at his father with an I-know-how-you-feel look. “While you were occupying mom these few nights and I was barred from the door, I went to my room to study online,” he said, trying to sound mature, “I am already on my way to second-year course. I kept myself busy.”

Shen Yichong’s mouth twitched, holding back a smile, while his son was trying to sound like an adult.

“I decided to bear it all for my younger brother or sister,” said Little Bun, “But dad, you are so slow. I wonder if my younger brother or sister will be born by the time I am in college?” He played with his fingers trying to count. Before he could decide, Shen Yichong carried him inside.

“Shen Rui, it’s time for your violin practice,” said Shen Yichong, “I will also ask your kindergarten teacher to pay attention to your homework load. You clearly have too much time on your hands to talk nonsense.” The mother-son duo was clearly born to torture him. His cheeks heated as he listened to his son. That too, when he had finally gotten one of them to be sensible, finally.