Work Text:
Jing Yuan smiles at the baby, still unnamed, propped up on his legs as he gently traces chubby cheeks with his fingers.
“Tǔdòu,” he whispers quietly, “we need to give you a name soon.” Jing Yuan sighs as the baby lets out a soft coo, almost as if responding to his father, his eyes drooping. Jing Yuan was successful in getting the boy to eat and burp, and he was just changed so all conditions were met for an afternoon nap. And, boy, he looked to be ready for a nap.
The paperwork Jing Yuan submitted for the baby’s adoption was approved, and he couldn't be happier that it went through with little problem. Well. With as little problem as he could have with several people protesting the sudden adoption of an orphaned baby after a week expedition away from the Luofu. Now, Jing Yuan has the papers filed away in his personal desk, the only thing left to fill out is the line asking for the baby's given name. If anyone told Jing Yuan he would be a father two weeks ago, he would've laughed it off, but now he was sitting with a baby in his lap who was just about ready to fall asleep. He smiles again as the baby stretches and settles back into his spot, his tummy rising and falling with his breathing. So cute.
Jing Yuan takes his index finger and brushes it from the baby's forehead, down to the tip of his nose, and back up, repeating the motion as the baby relaxes further into his father's lap, eyes fully closing. It seems to be the baby's favorite way to be put to sleep, so Jing Yuan continues to do it every time in hopes to remind the baby that his Bàba is there, and that he is safe and secure. The new father finds himself tracing his eyes over the baby's features: soft, milky skin, cute, chubby cheeks that squish and push his little lips into a pout, eyelashes that sweep across said cute, chubby cheeks, a little button nose. Jing Yuan’s heart swells with affection. His beautiful little boy.
He stops his ministrations and little noises of protest spill from the baby's mouth, upset that his father isn't close anymore.
“Oh, I'm sorry, bǎobèi,” Jing Yuan placates him as he gently lifts the baby into his arms. “Come here.” The baby is then placed onto his stomach against Jing Yuan’s chest, dwarfed by his father's build, and large hands hold him close.
He's only been around for a week and a half, but he already trusts and recognizes Jing Yuan, growing upset when he isn't near. It's as if a warm, balmy feeling – affection and adoration, he realizes – settles over Jing Yuan’s heart as the baby nuzzles his nose into the soft fabric of Jing Yuan’s shirt, breathing in the now familiar scent of his father.
He leans back further into the bed, hand rubbing soothing circles on the baby's back. “I don't know what we should name you,” Jing Yuan admits quietly. Parents usually name their children based on what they hope their children to become, what they want them to achieve.
“ That's a lot of pressure to put onto a little baby ,” Jing Yuan had told Fu Xuan. “ To put them into a box, to set such high expectations when they can't even speak .” He purses his lips at the memory. He doesn't want that for this baby, he thinks as he presses a kiss to soft, downy hair.
“That's just stupid, Jing Yuan,” the pink-haired woman said, putting her hands on her hips. Jing Yuan titled his head at her, lips tugged into a slight frown. “This baby is going to do amazing things, and you're going to be proud of him no matter what because he's your son. I don't even have to predict the future to see that!” she said, pointing a finger at him. “So quit being stupid and worrying too much about it! Just pick a name already before they start knocking on your door!”
In his thoughts about the past, Jing Yuan thinks of his own parents, his past experiences, his heartbreak and suffering. His path to healing. He thinks about how this tiny little bundle, his Tǔdòu, has brought him nothing but joy – okay, and only a little bit of stress because how was he supposed to know how to change a diaper so it didn't fall off when he picked up the baby again? – the past week and a half, and how he has quickly made a permanent spot in Jing Yuan's life and in his heart.
He inhales, baby rising with his chest, and he exhales slowly. Being a parent is difficult , Jing Yuan thinks to himself. Naming a child even moreso. He starts giving soft rhythmic pats to what Feixiao calls the baby’s “diaper butt” as he gets lost in thought. The baby shifts slightly, head moving so his ear was resting directly over Jing Yuan’s heart. He wonders if the baby can hear his internal conflict about deciding on what to name him, along with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump .
Why is it so difficult to name him? the general wonders to himself. Do all parents go through this? Do they all have internal conflict and worry about giving their children names that might put too much pressure on them? Or was he thinking too far into it? He feels at a total loss, thinking himself in circles. And then he realizes why it's so difficult. The reason he's worried is because cares so much already. Feixiao was right when she told him he was a goner while she handed money to the cashier for the baby crib. That was only the second day he had his little Tǔdòu. He's glad he can surround himself with people who are honest with him,he thinks..
Fu Xuan, ever the honest and blunt one in almost every conversation, pops up in his thoughts. The Diviner’s words echo through his mind: “This baby is going to do amazing things, and you're going to be proud of him no matter what because he's your son.” Such kind words from his friend. “So quit being stupid and worrying too much about it!” Those, not so much. But maybe she was right. Maybe giving him a name based off what she told him would be alright. Jing Yuan would be proud of the boy no matter what. (Heck, Jing Yuan is proud whenever the baby burps loudly after eating, if that's an indicator of what the future was going to be like.) And he would love this baby no matter what, no matter what his name was, no matter if he lived up to it or not.
The general sits up and moves to place the baby in the bed, and he joins him, laying on his side, head propped on his hand, the other gently rubbing over the baby's stomach. He's quiet as he stares at his boy and as he clears his mind of all of his racing thoughts, several minutes of only the light breathing of the baby in front of him fills the room. The baby’s eyes open, gold peeking up at Jing Yuan. And then suddenly-
“Yanqing,” he says quietly to the baby. “What do you think about Yanqing? Do you like it?”
The baby lets out a soft sigh and a flash of a smile before falling back asleep to his father's soothing movements.
“I think it suits you,” Jing Yuan says, nuzzling his nose into the baby's cheek. “We’ll submit the paperwork tomorrow then, Yanqing,” and he smiles, his son’s new name rolling off his tongue with ease. He closes his eyes, their breaths falling in sync, and he joins Yanqing for an afternoon nap.