Chen Yi’s arms bore several scars from the pool hall fire years ago. In Bogota’s temperate climate, they remained hidden beneath his sleeves. After Little Chengzi’s birth, he quietly sought out a tattoo artist.
Each arm received a distinct tattoo – the playful one belonged to Little Chengzi, while the bold, wild design was for Miao Jing.
Miao Jing discovered the change when he was undressing in the bathroom. She approached to touch and examine them carefully, then drew a soft breath, her eyes already glistening with tears.
Still, in her postpartum emotional period, every minor feeling was amplified – her tattoo was a chaos of colors, lines overlapping and intertwining, yet careful observation revealed hidden details: flaming roses, star-studded sunsets, intertwined hands and silhouettes, kisses and embraces.
Moving to the other arm, the design was simple and vibrant – a hot air balloon crafted from oranges, with a tiny black head sporting little pigtails peering over the basket’s edge.
“Cool, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Super cool,” her voice muffled against his chest.
Miao Jing was his only admiring audience. Three-month-old Little Chengzi, lacking pigtails with only soft yellow fuzz on her head, was held up to view her father’s new totems. Her small face turned away in displeasure, squirming and fussing to escape.
Little Chengzi and her father seemed to have conflicting energies. She only favored her fragrant, soft mother who gently soothed her to sleep, not her firm-bodied father who constantly attempted to separate her from her mother.
Chen Yi stooped down, poking his daughter’s plump cheek with his finger. “Hey! Show some respect – I’m your father.”
The infant’s lips trembled, disliking his physical contact, ready to burst into tears.
She never gave him a face.
Perhaps due to the household’s numerous occupants or Chen Yi being the sole male, Little Chengzi particularly disliked her father. She’d become unhappy when held, either spitting up or wailing uncontrollably. After several instances where Chen Yi attempted diaper changes, resulting in Little Chengzi creating abstract art on his person, father and daughter established clear boundaries – their interactions mostly consisted of staring contests, him raising eyebrows and making faces, whistling and snapping fingers, reliably aggravating Little Chengzi. Especially since Chen Yi delivered her to Pereira every night to sleep, successfully planting seeds of resentment in his daughter’s heart.
Mom and Dad’s room wasn’t her room. She could only play there briefly each day. The moment Dad returned at night, Mom had no time for cuddling her anymore. She could only play with Pereira. Dad even brazenly declared that Mom belonged to her during the daytime but to him at night. Hmph! She was just a baby – how could adults compete with a baby?
Miao Jing, still nursing, needed one final feeding before bed. Ideally, she could successfully lull Little Chengzi to sleep, preventing any crying or fussing, and allowing everyone a peaceful night’s rest.
After placing the child in her small bed and waving to Pereira, Miao Jing tiptoed from the room, exhaled softly, and pushed open the bedroom door.
Chen Yi had waited long enough to grow bored with mobile games.
“Is she asleep?”
“Yes.” Miao Jing caught a loose strand of hair at her temple, repinning it while organizing things. “Have you showered?”
“Not yet.” His gaze swept over her like a searchlight as he called, “Come sit.”
She had just changed into a nightgown, casting him a sidelong glance, her cheeks faintly blushing. Holding her dress, she walked over, her figure delicate and graceful, her expression alluring and charming. Chen Yi’s large hands caught her waist, brazenly roaming.
Miao Jing regularly attended yoga classes, aiming to return to her pre-pregnancy weight. The couple planned to take Little Chengzi on an island vacation in two months, and Miao Jing couldn’t bear abandoning her wardrobe of beautiful dresses and swimwear, earnestly hoping to wear them out again.
“Don’t lose more weight. This is perfect,” his hands gripped firmly. “I prefer you with some meat on your bones.”
Miao Jing exposed his ulterior motives: “What you’re touching isn’t yours – careful, or your daughter will seek revenge again.”
Chen Yi raised an eyebrow, smiling mischievously: “She’s had her fill, now it’s my turn.”
One arm lifted her as he strode into the bathroom where the tub was already filled. Miao Jing caught between the cool wall and his burning embrace, struggled to breathe. He was addicted to her pure, sweet, and soft innocent aura, then looking up, water droplets splashing from her features onto his cheeks, meeting crimson, moist cherry lips, he found her devastatingly beautiful like a seductive spirit.
When time and emotions are completely invested in each other, every life stage seems to hold the joy of losing and regaining. After having a child, they appeared to reach an almost telepathic understanding – they would unknowingly visit the same store to buy the same food, and every time he returned home, he would see exactly the scene he had imagined, achieving a familiar intimacy through life’s twists and turns, yet also discovering new beginnings and surprises.
The two novice parents still needed to adjust to Little Chengzi, especially Chen Yi, who was learning how to be a father.
When Little Chengzi was five and a half months old, Miao Jing’s maternity leave ended, and after careful consideration, she decided to return to work.
The child was entrusted to nanny Pereira, with Meigisi also at home – two adults caring for one infant in a secure community should have been reassuring enough for Miao Jing.
The more concerned party was Chen Yi – Chinese and Western childcare methods differed. Colombian families typically had multiple children and practiced a more relaxed parenting style, content to let Little Chengzi play on the floor all day. Moreover, the Spanish-speaking environment posed challenges to Chinese language development.
His work environment wasn’t as formal or rigid, sometimes allowing him to handle miscellaneous tasks from home. When Little Chengzi began crawling and roaming the house, Chen Yi would occasionally bring Pereira and Little Chengzi to his office.
The office remained next to the bar, and Chen Yi had converted one area into a baby activity zone, enclosed with barriers. He’d place Little Chengzi inside with some toys, letting Pereira watch from the side while occasionally turning to check on her. He’d observe Little Chengzi clutching her pacifier and stuffed toy, spinning 360 degrees, finally gripping the barrier with tiny hands, supporting herself on chubby little legs to stand, grinning at Gino.
Gino had a knack for entertaining babies. When not busy, he’d play ball with Little Chengzi, dance to music, perch her on his shoulders, and sway, making her giggle continuously. Chen Yi would be on the phone opposite them, eyes fixed on his daughter’s animated movements, unconsciously breaking into a smile.
After tiring of playing with Gino, the little one would wreak havoc on Chen Yi’s desk, tangling herself in phone cords, kicking joyfully on the keyboard, and knocking over coffee cups. Chen Yi would frown coldly, grab her by the diaper to lift her, shoot her an impatient look, and lightly swat her bottom.
“Try making trouble again and see if I don’t spank you!”
Little Chengzi’s lips quivered, her eyes instantly brimming with tears before breaking into earth-shattering wails, demanding her mother. Even Pereira couldn’t console her. Finally, Chen Yi lifted his devastated daughter into his arms, held her close, and patted her plump legs and tiny, milk-scented body, humming the lullabies Miao Jing often sang until successfully lulling Little Chengzi to sleep.
Gazing at that small face so similar to his own, still streaked with tears, his heart melted completely. For the first time, he felt the tenderness of blood ties, unable to resist kissing his daughter’s forehead, fingers wiping away her tear tracks as he stared for a long while.
A beautiful little face, a soft delicate body – his union with Miao Jing, a living being separated from Miao Jing’s body, growing day by day, soon to walk, to talk, to experience her infancy, childhood, youth…
Of course, he had to treat her better and better.
Once Little Chengzi became familiar with the office environment, she began babbling about wanting to go outside. Chen Yi would take her for walks after her naps, cradling her in one arm, her diapered chubby bottom perched on his forearm, her pink gauzy dress perfectly complementing her father’s denim jacket.
Chen Yi showed her the colorful street murals; people were dancing to speakers on the street, Little Chengzi wiggling her tiny bottom to the music rhythm. There were bottle jugglers, human pyramids, and fire performers – Little Chengzi’s daily must-see entertainment. Her large eyes watched curiously, her pacifier unknowingly falling to the ground, only noticed upon returning home.
At lunch, they’d meet mom to eat. Chen Yi waited downstairs with his daughter, and when Miao Jing emerged from her company, Little Chengzi joyfully rushed into her mother’s embrace. They’d dine at nearby restaurants, Little Chengzi finishing her bottle with gulps, her round eyes coveting the food on the table. Chen Yi would scoop some avocado paste into her mouth, and Little Chengzi would flash her few rice-grain-sized baby teeth in a smile at her parents.
“She’s smiling at you,” Miao Jing cupped her cheeks, watching Chen Yi care for the child with interest. “Looks like you two are getting along well.”
“She’s my flesh and blood,” Chen Yi remained composed. “I’m her old man after all. My office is practically a nursery now – if nothing else, we’ve got diapers and formula in abundance. The bar next door even asks to borrow milk, saying it’s for sobering people up.”
There were also more casual moments. Chen Yi would bring Little Chengzi to the pool hall and set her on the pool table with some balls to play with. Little Chengzi seemed interested in billiards too – she’d kick her feet, making the heavy round balls roll, then chase after them. When she crawled to the table’s edge, about to fall, Chen Yi swiftly scooped her back to the center and tossed her a pool cue. Little Chengzi would wave the long stick, banging the table with loud smacks, amusing Chen Yi greatly.
“Hurry up and grow – I’ll teach you how to play pool.”
Unable to resist planting a kiss on his daughter’s smooth cheek, Little Chengzi’s fine eyebrows would furrow, her tiny fists landing on Chen Yi’s nose and eyes with a slight acidic sting. Chen Yi would lift her, grimacing as he called her a little rascal, bending to offer a teething biscuit – Miao Jing forbade him from using vulgar language around their daughter, so he could only submit, unable to resort to force.
The father-daughter relationship thus shakily built its foundation.
When Miao Jing returned home in the evenings, Little Chengzi, who had just learned to walk, would toddle into her mother’s arms with a thoroughly wronged expression. Chen Yi’s tall figure would follow her tiny steps, helplessly spreading his hands to Miao Jing: “I didn’t bully her.”
He nearly rolled his eyes skyward: “Ask Pereira if you don’t believe me.”
Miao Jing looked at her teary-eyed daughter, stroked her soft black hair, and asked gently: “Did you have fun with Dad?”
Little Chengzi couldn’t speak much yet. She pursed her lips, shook her head, then hesitantly nodded, hugging Miao Jing’s neck as she made a sound like “papa.”
“She’s calling you Dad,” Miao Jing turned with a smile.
His eyes suddenly brightened, and he let out a rather proud snort, pinching his daughter’s little toes – how should a man spoil his daughter? When Little Chengzi was with Chen Yi, she never walked on the ground. She was either carried, lifted, or perched on his shoulders, never letting her little feet touch a speck of dust.
Chen Yi began allowing Little Chengzi to occasionally sleep in the master bedroom each week.
Little Chengzi slept in her small bed, sprawled on her pillow like a little frog in peaceful slumber. Miao Jing propped her chin up, watching her sleeping face. Chen Yi walked over and rested his head on her shoulder: “You’ve been watching for a long time.”
“She looks like you, like how you were as a child.”
“What was I like as a child?”
“Bright eyes, clean features, long eyelashes when you looked down, proud when you lifted your head.” She sighed softly. “Haven’t you noticed Little Chengzi is also very domineering? She never lets anyone touch her toys, and cries when she sees us holding hands.”
“Not just that. When Gino’s girlfriend came to the office to find him, Little Chengzi wouldn’t let her in, clutching Gino’s pants leg and crying heartbreakingly. When I took her to the bar, she stood on the dance floor by herself and started dancing, even demanding applause.”
“What? You took her to a bar?” Miao Jing’s face darkened. “She’s only one year old. Did you take her drinking or dancing?”
“No, I went to pay rent and chatted with the landlord for a bit. It was early morning, not a soul in the bar,” Chen Yi touched his nose. “We were out in five minutes.”
“Maybe it’s better to just leave her at home.”
“What’s wrong with being with me? Pereira’s there too, and I can talk to her, play with her. Don’t worry, I know my limits.”
“Shall we go to the bathroom tonight? Hmm?” Chen Yi buried his face in her neck. “Let her sleep peacefully.”
“What if she wakes up?”
“We’ll be quick,” he lifted her in his arms. “Turn off the lights, keep quiet, don’t wake her.”