Yun Hao didn't want to trouble his old man, but his stomach betrayed him and started growling. Regardless, Yun Hao didn't change his composure, "I'll have to bother you then, Dad."
Father Zhao immediately went to heat up some food for Yun Hao.
Meng Yunhan let out a light chuckle.
"I thought you would endure it?"
Yun Hao naturally held Yunhan's hand as they walked back to their room.
Seeing his son occupying his spot on the bed, Yun Hao had a strong desire to scoop him up right away.
But considering that today was his son's first birthday, he dismissed the idea.
"This is my gift for Little Huzi." As a father, he too had prepared a gift for his son—the first he ever gave him.
What was it?
Meng Yunhan was indeed curious about what this gift could be?
"A bullet head?" Meng Yunhan took a closer look and, to her surprise, it was a bullet head, tied with a string.
"Hmm."
Meng Yunhan didn't say a word.
This was a gift shared between father and son.
