Right at that moment, Ying Hao, who had brought the child back, came up and saw this scene. Even this burly man couldn't help but break into a smile, "It's a reward from his teacher—three in total. He ate one, gave me one, and insisted on saving the last one for Daddy."
Ying Hao, a big man who never married and usually quite indifferent, found himself unwittingly smiling at the sight of the child.
Standing there all the while, La Chenxi watched as the child's arrival seemed to make the man forget her existence, his attention solely fixed on talking to the child. His usual icy facade, which hardly ever cracked into a smile, now eased into a gentle warmth, as if showered in the spring breeze because of the child. It felt like countless needles were pricking her heart.
During the three years she had been with him, she feared that he had not smiled as much or as often as he did now.