IBO – Chapter 10 The Toy Little Yellow Duck

This novel contains sensitive and taboo content like R*pe, Mu**er etc. Read only if you are comfortable.

Before making that promise to Song Buli, Song Yiran had thought it through carefully in his heart. He didn’t know whether he could really take good care of Song Buli.

After all, he himself was just a freshly graduated college student, without the slightest bit of experience in looking after a child.

But when he thought about how Song Buli might have gone hungry before, lacked warm clothes, endured people’s cold looks, and perhaps even been beaten or scolded at will, he made up his mind. From now on, he would definitely protect this younger brother of his.

He was the older brother—he had to take good care of his little brother.

He would work hard to create a warm and nurturing environment for Song Buli to grow up in.

After a long while, Song Yiran finally loosened his hold on the small bundle in his arms.

Still too little. So thin when held. From now on, he’d have to cook more meat for Lili and raise him to be strong and sturdy. Song Yiran silently set the goal in his heart of fattening Song Buli up.

Song Buli had no idea that he was about to face a “tragic” fate of being enthusiastically overfed. After being put down by Song Yiran, he nestled by Song Yiran’s leg, rubbing his head against Song Yiran’s thigh again and again in a coquettish manner.

Song Buli was still very young and didn’t have much strength, but Song Yiran’s thigh was rubbed until it felt terribly ticklish.

Watching Song Buli act spoiled in such an adorable way, Song Yiran’s heart had long since melted into a puddle. He reached out and vigorously rubbed the fur on Song Buli’s body.

The dense, soft texture beneath his hand made him reluctant to stop; the fluffy fur was so soft it felt like it healed his very soul.

Fluffiness was the most healing thing! Song Yiran firmly believed this once again today.

Just as the room was filled with warmth, a notification sound from the light-brain interrupted Song Yiran’s fur-rubbing.

【Dear Guardian of History, your package has arrived. Wishing you a pleasant day!】

Song Yiran was stunned by the speed of the delivery—it was ridiculously fast. But then again, this was the interstellar age, so it all made sense.

He told Song Buli to wait in the room, then quickly stepped out the door.

At the front gate, he saw several lonely-looking boxes. Scooping them all up in one go and carrying them back inside, Song Yiran sat down on the floor and pondered how to open them.

He had never dreamed that one day he wouldn’t even be able to open a box. Yet here was the reality, right in front of him.

At first glance, the boxes looked similar to those on Blue Star, but opening them proved difficult. They were neat and seamless, not even a single crack to be found.

If there had been even the tiniest gap, he could have forcibly pried them open.

Song Yiran began to feel around the boxes repeatedly, trying to find the trick.

“Click.” He suddenly pressed on a small raised bump, and one side of the box opened by itself.

He checked the other boxes, and sure enough, each one had a tiny raised bump.

After opening all the boxes, Song Buli also curiously came over to take a look.

Song Yiran first reached out eagerly toward the box containing the small bibs he had bought for Song Buli.

Holding up one of the pink bibs, he smiled brightly at Song Buli and said, “Lili, this is a bib big brother bought for you. Take a look—do you like this color? If you don’t, there are other colors too.”

Song Buli had tried to guess what Song Yiran might buy—furniture, daily necessities, plants, food—he had considered all of those, but he had never thought that Song Yiran would buy something specifically for him.

This was the first time anyone had ever bought him something. Song Buli didn’t know what the swelling feeling in his chest meant, but instinctively, he began to hesitate.

“Big brother, I… I’m not… I still…” Song Buli didn’t even know what he should say at a moment like this. His mind was in a complete mess, and he wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore.

Song Yiran thought Song Buli didn’t like the pink bib. “Lili, don’t you like this color?”

Song Buli panicked at once. “No, I… I just…”

He really liked the bib, but for some reason, whenever he tried to speak, it felt as if something was stuck his throat, preventing him from making any sound.

Would big brother think he didn’t like bibs? Maybe after this, big brother would never buy him any again.

Just thinking about that made wave after wave of sadness rise in Song Buli’s heart.

Seeing Song Buli’s eyes suddenly turn red, Song Yiran thought he disliked the bib. “Lili, don’t cry. If you don’t like bibs, then you don’t like them. Big brother will buy you something else next time—don’t cry, okay?”

He pulled Song Buli into his arms and soothed him gently. “If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. That’s okay. Whatever you like, big brother will buy it for you.”

“Don’t cry anymore. If you cry too much, you’ll really turn into a little crybaby.”

Only after being picked up did Song Buli belatedly realize that his eyes felt hot.

So he was about to cry. No wonder he couldn’t speak—it was because his throat was choking up.

After struggling for a while in Song Yiran’s arms, Song Buli finally managed to make his voice come out properly. “That’s not it. I really like the bib my brother bought for me! I really, really like that bib.”

But what I like the most is big brother, he silently added in his heart.

When Song Yiran learned that Song Buli didn’t dislike the bib he’d bought, he finally let out a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness it wasn’t because he disliked the bib that he wanted to cry—otherwise he would’ve become the “culprit” who made a child cry.

Although he didn’t know why Song Buli’s eyes had suddenly reddened, kids needed to be coaxed more anyway.

Song Yiran remembered the little duck toy he’d bought. Maybe the duck could distract Song Buli.

He picked up a yellow little duck and gave it a firm squeeze. “Dido dido dido dido—”

Song Buli’s attention was indeed drawn to the duck. He stared straight at it, seemingly very curious about why the toy duck could make sounds.

Seeing how effective it was, Song Yiran squeezed the duck even harder, just to make it quack a few more times. “Dido dido dido dido—”

The squashed toy duck: Do you have any manners?

Song Yiran asked gently, “Lili, this is a small toy big brother bought for you. It squeaks when you squeeze it—fun, right?”

This little duck… was also bought for him?

Song Buli felt that the heat in his eyes, which had finally cooled down, was rising again.

No, he couldn’t cry. He couldn’t let big brother think he was a little crybaby.

He forcefully suppressed the warmth in his eyes and focused all his attention on the toy duck in front of him.

Seeing that Song Buli kept staring at the duck, Song Yiran put him down and let him play with it using his paws.

Song Buli stepped on the little duck once and immediately found it fun. He began frantically stomping on the duck, and for a while the sound of “dido dido” filled the air nonstop.

Watching Song Buli play endlessly with the duck, Song Yiran felt it was unbearably cute.

He had liked playing with this kind of toy duck when he was little too. Every time he bathed, he would play with it for a long while.

Oh right—the bathtub!

Only then did Song Yiran remember that he’d forgotten to buy a bathtub.

Having only toy ducks but no bathtub had no soul.

Song Yiran immediately placed another order and bought a yellow bathtub.

After playing for quite some time, it was about time to start preparing dinner. He picked up Song Buli and went to the kitchen to make dinner.

Of course, that yellow toy duck was brought along as well.

The weather was gradually getting warmer, so he planned to make some cold dishes for dinner to whet the appetite.

First, cold shredded potatoes.

Pick a few large potatoes, shred them, then boil them—but don’t overcook them, or they’ll turn limp and won’t taste good.

When the potato shreds were cooked until just crisp, scoop them out in time, then pour in the Song-family secret sauce, mix well, and they were ready to eat.

Lili was still growing, so something with meat would be good too. Cold shredded chicken leg sounded perfect.

First blanch the chicken legs, then cook them through, take them out, tear them into small pieces, pour in the Song-family secret sauce, mix well, and a delicious plate of cold shredded chicken leg was done.

Hot rice didn’t seem appetizing either, so Song Yiran simply made cold noodles.

Bring a pot of water to a boil, add the noodles. Once the noodles were cooked, scoop them out, rinse them once in cold water, then take them out again—they could be eaten with the dishes.

Song Yiran originally planned to feed Song Buli as usual, but this time Song Buli refused.

“Big brother, you don’t need to feed Lili anymore. Lili can already eat by himself with a spoon,” Song Buli said seriously.

He earnestly demonstrated his newly learned skill to Song Yiran, spreading each finger on his paw apart, then successfully gripping the spoon handle.

As if afraid Song Yiran wouldn’t believe him, he even used the spoon to bring a bite of noodles to his mouth.

He’d secretly practiced this move all day— big brother would definitely praise him, right?

From now on, he wouldn’t need to trouble big brother to feed him anymore. That way,  big brother could eat together with him.

Song Buli looked at Song Yiran with eager eyes—“Big brother” written on his left cheek and “praise me” written on his right—just short of actually saying, “Big brother, praise me!”

But Song Yiran’s feelings at that moment were a bit complicated.

On one hand, seeing Song Buli’s growth made him very gratified. On the other, he felt a little regretful that Song Buli was growing up too fast.

He hadn’t even enjoyed many days of the joy of feeding a fluffy little one.

His thoughts drifted to the future. Maybe when Song Buli grew up, he would leave this place and go carve out a world of his own.

Yes—people grow up. Song Buli would grow up too, slowly becoming mature in a place he could no longer reach.

Young people liked going out to struggle and work hard. Maybe by then, this place would be left with only him.

Song Yiran snapped back to reality when he looked into Song Buli’s clear eyes and couldn’t help scolding himself inwardly—what nonsense was he thinking?

He gently ruffled Song Buli’s head. “Lili is amazing! You can already hold a spoon by yourself!”

What was the point of thinking so far ahead? Living well in the present was what mattered most.

In the evening, Song Yiran went to the front gate to carry back the bathtub.

Actually, the bathtub had been delivered quite early, but he’d planned to pick it up after dinner. After all, his childcare center was run-down—probably no one would steal his package.

But the gate really was broken. Tomorrow, he should get someone to reinstall a proper gate.

Song Yiran carried the bathtub into the bathroom. He was quite satisfied with it—the edges were smooth, without a trace of roughness, so it wouldn’t scratch hands.

And there was even a little yellow duck pattern at the bottom of the tub—very childlike and fun.

If he weren’t far too big for it, he would’ve wanted to climb in and try it himself.

He first filled the tub with warm water, casually rinsed Song Buli a few times with the showerhead, then put him into the bathtub.

And of course, the soul of the bath—the little yellow ducks—had long been prepared. He’d gotten several small yellow ducks for Song Buli to play with while bathing.

And so, little Lili played with the toy yellow ducks in the bathtub, while Song Yiran watched from the side with amusement and joined in playing with the ducks too.

The “dido dido…” sounds decorated Song Buli’s childhood. Many years later, he still hadn’t forgotten those toy yellow ducks.