It wasn't until he returned home and saw the little guy, holding his soft body in his arms, that He Jingyao felt a bit of the true sensation of being a father.
But soon after, there came a trace of... helplessness, although he didn't want to admit it.
He had imagined himself in the role of a father before, but he hadn't expected this identity to come so unexpectedly that he had no psychological preparation whatsoever.
Just recently, he was still immersed in the fact that Su Zixi had died, even forcing himself to accept this fact... But in the blink of an eye, not only had she come back, but she had also brought back their son.
Thinking about this, he involuntarily rubbed his temples.
When he saw this woman, he had a lot of scores to settle with her.
"Daddy, you're the best." The little guy hugged his neck and acted coy.
He Jingyao looked down at the ingratiating smile on his face—it reminded him of a certain woman.
He suddenly remembered something: "Xiaobao, can you read?"
