Return (7)
I gazed at Zhang Fei, who was waiting for my answer with sparkling eyes, and sank deep into thought.
"My lord! What are we naming the baby? Our little one who's about to be born?!"
"The baby's name?"
Earlier this year, before I set out on my campaign to Gangdong, Zhang Fei—her belly already round and heavy—had thrown that question at me with the very same expression she wore now.
Truth be told, like any parent, I had racked my brains plenty over what to name the child.
Should I use the name Zhang Bao, as in the original history?
Or give her something entirely new and different?
Well... though I did no small amount of agonizing, actually settling on a name hadn't taken long at all.
"If it's a boy, we'll call him Zhang Bao."
"Zhang Bao?"
Hearing my answer, Zhang Fei pondered it for a moment, then nodded.
"Mmm... not bad!"
Well, of course not—it was the name she'd given her own child in the original history.
In the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, he was the general who, alongside Guan Xing—Guan Yu's second son—ran like a blender through the soldiers of Wu at the Battle of Yiling.
Of course, seeing as Yiling was the battle where Shu spent one very hot night, all their early heroics came to nothing—they were properly trounced in the end.
He never reached the realm of a Match for Ten Thousand like his father, but he was more than capable of leading an army.
...Except that was the Romance's version. In the official records, he was one of history's ill-fated souls, dead long before the Battle of Yiling ever took place.
His exact age is unknown, but he can't have lived past thirty.
Guan Xing, whose case was much the same, is said to have died in his early-to-mid twenties, so...
Then again, this world seemed to be built on the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, so there was no need to worry about lifespans.
And even if the worst did happen, with Hua Tuo and Zhang Jue on hand, what did it matter?
Zhang Fei, mid-nod, immediately turned to me with eyes shining.
"Then what if it's a girl? What do we name her?!"
"A girl, huh..."
Still, no matter how I looked at it, Bao—as in a grain of rice—felt like a bit much for an adorable daughter.
I knew the character technically counted among the plant names, but the sound itself was just far too harsh.
By that logic, one might assume Guan Yu had named her daughter Guan Ping rather carelessly, but hers was a somewhat different case.
"I am content with it, my lord."
"Hm? Truly?"
"Yes."
When I'd decided the name sounded a touch too masculine and tried to change it, Guan Yu had simply shaken her head.
Apparently, one of the meanings bound up in the character ping—"level, even"—had appealed to her enormously.
If I remembered right, beyond the literal sense of flatness, it also carried the meanings of "at ease" and "safe and sound"...
Well, any parent thinking of their child could be satisfied with a name like that.
After a moment's deliberation, I recalled a certain character and murmured it softly.
"...Zhang Ha?"
Needless to say, this had nothing to do with any slangy pun of "Zhang Fei" plus a load of baggage.
I had simply thought of the character ha—the one that symbolizes the lotus flower.
"Ooh, that's such a pretty name! I love it!"
Hearing me out, Zhang Fei made no effort whatsoever to hide her energetic personality and latched right onto me.
...And then she went and forgot that very name, remembering only Zhang Bao.
If that's what makes her Zhang Fei, then I suppose it's very Zhang Fei of her.
Bringing my mind back to the present, I stroked Zhang Fei's head once and spoke.
"We agreed that if it was a girl, we'd call her Zhang Ha."
"...Ah! That's right!"
At my words, Zhang Fei jolted as if the memory had only just caught up with her.
She must have been run absolutely ragged in Luoyang—giving birth to and raising her own child, all while being responsible for the other babies at the same time.
All the more so for a brand-new mother like her. It would hardly be strange to forget a conversation we'd shared months ago.
"Uhbuh?"
I looked at the baby blinking up at me.
As the saying goes, a tree with promise looks different from the very sprout.
The child Zhang Fei had borne took after her mother, and there was no doubt she would grow into a great beauty someday.
Whoever came to carry my daughter off someday—one lucky bastard, that.
Though if he failed to clear the bar I set, my blessing would never be forthcoming.
...Of course, the moment she wailed that she hated her daddy, I'd sink without a fight.
Parents, in the end, can never break their child's will.
So this is the fate none of us can escape. How slightly terrifying.
A son?
Sons, by nature, are raised half-neglected.
As long as he causes no real trouble with his sweetheart, I have no intention of interfering—but if he goes and wrecks a perfectly good household with what he keeps below the belt, I'll have to break his legs.
Not that a son even exists yet.
I addressed the baby before me in a gentle voice.
"Little one, do you know who I am?"
"Uhbuhbuh?"
This was my very first meeting with the child Zhang Fei had borne, so I approached with the utmost care.
Even Guan Yu, who'd been helping Zhang Fei just moments ago, had gone stiff as a statue the instant the baby began to whimper.
It was only natural for a baby to be wary of, and frightened by, strangers.
But I couldn't retreat here.
What kind of father stands off at a distance just because his baby is wary of him?
If anything, Cao Ang—who had beamed and closed the distance the moment she laid eyes on me—was the odd one out.
…
Perhaps because she was nestled in her mother's arms, Zhang Ha showed not a trace of fear as she studied me.
No—far from being frightened, she seemed almost curious about me.
Come to think of it, weren't those the very conditions for getting past a baby's stranger anxiety?
Meeting a stranger in a familiar place, secure in a parent's arms.
And never, ever acting in haste.
Good. Then there was only one thing for me to do.
Having concluded my deliberations, I plopped down right where I stood, Seo Hui still fastened to me and refusing to let go.
"...?"
The others watching nearby shot me puzzled looks, but I paid them no mind and spoke.
"What are you doing? Your legs must ache too. Come sit over here."
"Oh... okay."
Tilting her head, Zhang Fei meekly did as she was told.
I gave one glance to Zhang Fei as she carefully settled nearby, then turned my eyes back.
Time to entertain our little cutie for once.
I took hold of the wriggling Seo Hui's sides and lifted her up into the air.
…
Perhaps because she knew I had no intention of handing her off, Seo Hui put up no resistance, even as she clutched at my clothes.
When I try to pass her to someone else, she holds on for dear life; the moment I mean to play with her myself, she lets go as if by magic.
...Could she be reading my mind with some psychic power?
I've said it before and I'll say it again—this is no ordinary child.
Every time I witness it, I can only marvel.
I passed a little while playing the classic "up we go" game with Seo Hui.
Slowly, of course—never too fast.
Even a small jolt can seriously injure a baby, so I moved as carefully as someone handling glass.
Would it be a lie to say my arms never strained? I was, after all, a man who'd ridden thousands of li on horseback until only yesterday.
The people around me simply towered so far past human limits—it wasn't as though I was out of shape myself.
As I played with Seo Hui, I smiled warmly and spoke to her.
"Our Seo Hui, soaring through the air like a little birdie."
…
Even in the middle of play, Seo Hui didn't squeal with laughter the way other babies did—but I could tell.
She was having a wonderful time right now.
There was simply no change in her expression.
No—rather than no change, it would be more accurate to say the corners of her mouth and her brows shifted by the barest margin.
Even down to this, she was her mother made over again.
Just as the delighted Seo Hui began to flutter her little arms and legs, a response finally came from nearby.
"Ah-boo!"
"Hm?"
Zhang Ha, who had been nestled quietly in the crook of Zhang Fei's arm, was reaching both arms out toward me.
Zhang Fei met her child's eyes straight on and asked, utterly bewildered.
"What is it, sweetheart? You want to go to Daddy?"
"Ah-oo!"
Watching her, I grinned at how perfectly the situation was unfolding according to plan.
...Though I imagine that from the outside, I looked like some grown-up scheming to trick a small child.
Needless to say, I had no intention of doing my daughter any harm.
I was simply giving her the chance to overcome her stranger anxiety all on her own.
When a baby is shy around strangers, the stranger must never approach first.
Nor should the parents thrust the baby into that stranger's arms, either.
The correct answer is simply to stay quietly nearby, and wait until the baby shows interest first.
Force the distance closed, and the fragile little thing will only end up stressed.
They say the two most important things in raising a child are patience and love.
And I don't believe that's wrong.
I set Seo Hui, who looked a touch wistful that our game had stopped, down onto my knee, and said to Zhang Fei, who still wore a baffled expression:
"Hurry up and hand her over."
"Ah—okay."
Thus, without a single mishap, I received my little wiggleworm and spoke in my softest, most coaxing voice.
"Shall I play with you the same way?"
"Buh-ah!"
Zhang Ha replied with great vigor, as though she had understood every word.
At that adorable sight, a deeply satisfied smile spread across my face.
Goodness. Whose daughter could she be, to be this adorable?
Oh, right. Mine.
Entertaining thoughts that bordered on self-congratulation, I found I couldn't stop smiling.