Smart as Lu Yanhe was, how could he not see through his thoughts.
In that instant when he lifted his hand, he knew what he wanted to do.
He noticed the little guy's hesitation and timidity and took the initiative to hold his little hand.
But afraid of hurting him with too much strength, he eased his grip a bit.
Lu Yanhe was somewhat annoyed with his loss of control, yet he still couldn't bear to let go, tightly holding his son's chubby little hand in his palm.
"I..." He almost exhausted all the communication skills he had learned in the past thirty years to gradually stabilize his emotions, murmuring, "I am your dad."
Lu Yanhe's emotions were usually stable, not easily agitated.
It was only when he faced Su Jia that he couldn't help but lose control.
And after nine years of tempering his character, he was even less likely to easily reveal his emotions.
