Wen Wanzi stared unblinkingly in Bao Yancheng's direction, only to see the man solemnly pat Bao Lin's back.
Bao Lin seemed to say something; it looked like an apology.
The little girl had stopped crying, and her mother arrived just in time, gently pulling her small head into her embrace.
As the mother raised her head and saw Bao Yancheng, her face visibly flushed, expression bashful and timid.
Watching from afar, Wen Wanzi's pupils trembled, and her lips gradually drooped downward.
Already parents—what is going on here?
Bao Yancheng maintained a polite smile, yet his eyes revealed visible indifference and a trace of barely concealed disdain.
Thankfully, the caretaker quickly intervened, and Bao Yancheng carried one child in each arm, returning to his seat.
All the dishes were served, but the three men at the table remained pensively silent.
The two younger ones pouted, while the older one seemed drained of patience, strands of hair slightly disheveled.