The tiny baby lay in Ye Yiheng's arms, and as a new father, his entire body was tense.
Ye Yuan scoffed, "Look at how clumsily you're holding the baby, your body is as stiff as a log." He stretched out a hand, "Come, let Father Emperor teach you."
"He's too small and soft, and shouldn't be away from Yanyan for too long." Ye Yiheng was reluctant to give him the child.
"When you were born, I held you in my arms. Now that I have a legitimate imperial grandson, naturally, it's my turn to hold him."
Though he spoke this way, his gaze was full of pleading.
Ye Yiheng glanced at him and finally agreed, "You can take him; my arms are stiff."
Ye Yuan chuckled and gently took his grandson from his son's arms, softly soothing him, "Be gentle, babies cannot be shaken too hard, understand?"
"Understood."
"Yes."
"Father Emperor, why is this little boy so wrinkly?" Ye Yiheng squeezed his son's hand, "His hands are so small, and his feet too."
