Zhang Fu, on the other hand, looked as if ten years had been shaved off his life in the span of minutes. He appeared drained, but lighter too. Whatever had been said between father and son had clearly been intense.
Yang Jiahui was completely smitten. Little Fei seemed equally taken with his new Grandma. When she saw her husband, she stood and gently placed the child into his arms.
"Little Fei," she said brightly, "look. It's Grandpa."
Zhang Tengfei stiffened, his movements awkward and unsure. But the delight in his eyes betrayed him. He rocked Little Fei carefully, then—astonishingly—began to coo.
From that point on, the grandparents monopolized Little Fei entirely.
Zhang Fu sulked in silence.
He wanted to spend time with his son, but his own father refused to hand him back. What made it worse was that Little Fei said "Papa" far more often than "Dada." Zhang Fu kept an unconscious tally, each count sharpening his resentment toward Jin Di.
