His mouth opened.
Then closed.
Then opened again.
"…You're already rich! You can take care of her while managing the company!"
"No," Yuanfeng said calmly.
"Why not?!"
"Because she is a delicate, fragile, tender flower."
Grandpa Chi stared at him.
"A flower…?" he repeated slowly.
"Yes." Yuanfeng's face became grave. "My baby has a small body. A small back. Small hands. Small feet. Small—"
"Yuanfeng."
"Yes, Father?"
"She's six. Everyone at six is small."
"No," Yuanfeng insisted. "Huaijin is especially small. What if she gets lost? What if someone bullies her? What if she suddenly decides she wants a snack and I'm not there to buy it for her? What if she falls asleep and no one carries her properly? What if she—"
"Yuanfeng."
"Yes, Father?"
"You're crazy."
"That is also possible," Yuanfeng admitted seriously. "But I cannot risk Huaijin's mental, physical, emotional, spiritual, and snack-related well-being."
Grandpa Chi rubbed his temples.
He felt a headache forming.
