Chapter 284 Uncle’s Face Is Red Like a Tomato

He had originally thought that having his uncle to back him up would help, but it turned out that his uncle even joined in the scolding.

Would his uncle end up crying too?

Then who would protect him?

So scary!

The little guy cried even harder, curling his small body desperately into Song Jingmo’s arms, his voice breaking from sobbing: “Wahhh… don’t hit… don’t hit…”

Song Jingmo looked at the trembling little guy in his arms, then at Lu Er in front of him, who was fuming like an angry cat, and sighed.

He gently placed Lu Ming on a small stool nearby and spoke softly: “Lu Ming, be a good boy and sit still. Uncle will help you take a bath in a bit.”

Then he straightened up and walked over to Lu Er, wrapping his arms around Lu Er’s waist and pulling him slightly closer.

“Alright, alright, don’t be mad anymore.”

Song Jingmo’s voice softened, filled with a coaxing tone: “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said those things to the kid. I was wrong.”

Lu Er glared: “Of course you were wrong!”

“Yes, yes, yes, I was wrong,” Song Jingmo agreed without argument. “I shouldn’t have said things to the kid carelessly, and I shouldn’t have stopped you from hitting him…”

“But he’s so little—what if you hurt him?”

Lu Er’s anger faded a little at the first half of the sentence, but he widened his eyes at the second half: “I don’t even know who it was that was so cold at first, and now suddenly acting protective…”

Song Jingmo bent down and kissed him on the forehead, his voice softening even more: “Don’t be mad, okay? I promise to be careful with my words around the kid from now on. You go rest; I’ll give Lu Ming his bath and tidy up, alright?”

Lu Er was completely pacified by the coaxing and kissing, huffing once but saying nothing more.

He glanced at Lu Ming, timidly watching from the little stool.

The little guy met his gaze and immediately buried his face in his knees, only a round little back of the head showing.

Lu Er was both annoyed and amused: “Fine, fine, you wash him, I’ll quietly watch.”

Song Jingmo held Lu Ming, gently patting his back while coaxing softly: “No more crying, little one. No more crying.”

The little guy lifted his head, his face still wet with tears, eyes red.

Looking pitifully at Song Jingmo, he asked softly: “Uncle… are you still mad?”

“No, I’m not mad anymore.”

Song Jingmo gently rubbed the little head: “But Lu Ming, Uncle only hit you because you peed in the bathwater.”

“That’s not right, okay?”

Lu Ming nodded, then whispered: “But… Uncle also…”

“That’s something between adults,” Song Jingmo interrupted, his expression serious. “Uncle didn’t pee in the wrong place. He just…”

“Accidentally wet the sheets. And the things Uncle said were just to trick you—that was my fault.”

Lu Ming nodded, half understanding.

“From now on, no peeing in the bathtub, got it?”

Lu Ming sniffled and nodded, holding tightly onto Song Jingmo’s clothes.

Once a fresh tub of warm water was ready, Song Jingmo placed Lu Ming back in it.

The little guy calmed down considerably once he touched the water, though his eyes were still red.

He sneaked glances at Lu Er standing by the door, a little scared but also wanting closeness.

Song Jingmo washed him, keeping his voice low: “Some things, you can’t say in front of Uncle, understand?”

Lu Ming blinked: “Why?”

Song Jingmo glanced at Lu Er, speaking so only the two of them could hear: “Because if you say some things, both of us will get in trouble.”

Lu Ming’s eyes widened, processing this carefully.

Then he solemnly nodded, a look of “I understand” on his little face.

A small, babyish “Oh” followed.

Lu Er, who had been eavesdropping, only caught the words “get in trouble.”

Immediately alert, he turned his head: “What are you two whispering about?”

“Nothing.”

Song Jingmo looked calm, continuing to rub in the bath gel: “Just teaching him to wash properly.”

Lu Ming nodded obediently, his face innocent: “Okay, wash properly!”

Lu Er looked at the big and small pair suspiciously, sensing something off but unable to pinpoint it.

By nine o’clock, it was Lu Ming’s bedtime.

The little guy had been bathed and smelled sweet, wearing pajamas covered with tiny dinosaurs, lying on the big bed with his little feet wiggling.

A lot had happened today, and Lu Ming had been emotionally up and down, already sleepy but pretending not to be, waiting for Lu Er to come and lull him to sleep.

Lu Er had just finished his own bath, wearing loose pajamas, hair still damp, sitting by Lu Ming’s bed.

He patted the pillow beside him: “Lu Ming, come over. Uncle will help you sleep.”

Lu Ming immediately scooted over, resting his little head on Lu Er’s arm and rubbing contentedly.

Looking up with a babyish voice, he made a request: “Uncle, hold me while I sleep.”

Lu Er gently patted his back, about to agree, when a hand suddenly reached over and pushed Lu Ming onto the bed.

Song Jingmo pulled the blanket over him, looking down seriously: “Lu Ming, you’re already three years old.”

“Three is big enough—you can’t be held to sleep anymore.”

Lu Ming was shoved back under the covers, his little face scrunched up.

He looked at Song Jingmo with big eyes full of “why not?”

Lu Er watched silently, trying not to laugh.

Song Jingmo continued patiently: “Big kids sleep by themselves. Think about it—what big kid still needs to be held to sleep?”

Lu Ming sulked for a few seconds, blinking: “But Uncle, you also hold Uncle to sleep…”

His voice was clear and innocent: “Yesterday at noon, I went to the master bedroom and saw you holding Uncle while you slept.”

“Your hands were like this…”

The little guy gestured, his short arms forming a hug: “Holding tightly, and Uncle didn’t push away.”

Song Jingmo: “……”

Seeing no response, Lu Ming assumed he hadn’t heard and added: “Uncle’s face was red like a tomato.”

Tilting his head, he looked at Song Jingmo with eyes full of curiosity: “You’re so much older than me—why can you hold Uncle to sleep?”

Song Jingmo paused three seconds: “Lu Ming, that’s different.”

Lu Ming blinked: “How is it different?”

“Because…”

Song Jingmo chose his words carefully, explaining in a way a child could understand: “Because your Uncle is my wife.”

“A husband can hold his wife to sleep—that’s an adult rule.”

Lu Ming tilted his head, trying to process this. “What’s a wife?”

Song Jingmo thought for a moment: “The person I like the most. I like your Uncle the most, so your Uncle is my wife.”

Lu Ming nodded thoughtfully: “Does Uncle like you?”

Song Jingmo’s lips curved in a small smile as he glanced at Lu Er. “Of course he likes me. Otherwise, why would he let me hold him to sleep?”