Fu Sichen got up to open the door, and Chuanchuan's fair cheeks had flushed a great deal from the roughhousing just now.
He stuck his head in to take a look and quickly understood.
Just as Fu Sichen was about to say something, Chuanchuan trotted to another room and, after a good while, came back with a book in his hands.
His soft, milky voice said cautiously, "Daddy, you work, I'll read, Mommy sleeps."
A trace of a smile, almost imperceptible, crossed Fu Sichen's lips as he reached out to ruffle Chuanchuan's hair, "Mm."
[Boohoo, Chuanchuan is really too sensible.]
[Such a small child growing up without the love of his parents, I'm really heartbroken.]
[I'm getting old and can't stand to see these things, tears won't stop flowing.]
...
