Hard work after winning the lottery

He paused, then turned his gaze to his second son, Sile, and his voice unconsciously softened considerably.

"Dad will read Sile his favorite set of 'Dinosaur Encyclopedia' picture books, no matter how many times he wants to listen to them."

Then, his gaze fell on his youngest son, who had stopped playing with building blocks and was now curiously listening with his ears perked up.

"Dad will help Sitao figure out that most complicated transforming robot that he hasn't been able to assemble for three days, and we'll put it together together."

Finally, his gaze, as firm as a rock, returned once more to his eldest son, Si'an.

This time, his eyes held a deeper understanding and respect.

"Daddy will also answer all of your questions, Si'an, about the world. No matter how difficult or strange your questions are, Daddy will be with you to find the answers."

Everything he said was specific to each child, down to their smallest preferences and habits.

This proves that during those few short days together, he wasn't just a figurehead; he was observing and remembering things attentively.

After saying all that, he seemed to feel it wasn't enough.

What he wanted to give was not just companionship, but a deep-seated sense of security.

"Dad will remember your birthdays and make you the most delicious cakes by hand."

"Dad will remember your favorite dishes. Si'an likes shrimp, Sile likes broccoli, and Sitao likes corn. Dad remembers them all."

"On stormy nights, if you're scared, Dad will rush into your room immediately, hold you in his arms, and tell you that you don't need to be afraid of anything."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a warm stream, flowing slowly yet with unwavering determination into the hearts of everyone present.

These promises, though simple and unpretentious, represent the fatherly love that every child longs for most during their growth.

They are like warm bricks, trying to fill the cold and huge hole left by those five years of emptiness.

Looking into Si'an's still scrutinizing eyes, Zhou Yanjin knew that the power of words was ultimately limited.

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his posture to almost eye level with the children.

At this moment, he crushed all his pride and aura as the president of the Zhou Group and sank them into the mud.

All that remains is the purest identity.

—A clumsy new father longing for his son's forgiveness.

"Dad knows that Dad did a very, very bad job before, and was a bad father."

"So, Dad will study hard and try his best."

"I might make mistakes, I might be clumsy, and I might... not be as good as Mom at first."

As he spoke, he gave a self-deprecating smile, a bitter smile that was full of sincerity.

"But Dad promises, Dad will do everything in his power."

His gaze, for the last and most solemn time, fell on Si'an's face.

There was no coercion in those eyes, only an almost pleading expectation.

"An'an, can you... keep an eye on Daddy?"

"Give Dad a chance, don't believe what he says right away."

"Just use your eyes to see, and your heart to feel."

"Use each day in the future to judge whether I... Zhou Yanjin, am a qualified father that you and your brothers can rely on."

"Is that okay?"

He spoke those last two words very softly and slowly, with a slight tremor that even he himself didn't realize.

After he finished speaking, the room fell silent again.

Zhou Yanjin remained kneeling on one knee, like a prisoner awaiting sentencing, entrusting her entire fate to this five-year-old child.

These words were incredibly powerful.

Hua Yun stood to the side, tears welling up in her eyes, which she could no longer hold back, and they silently slid down her cheeks, one by one.

She covered her mouth, trying not to make a sound.

She watched as the man, so ruthless and decisive in the business world who had never bowed his head to anyone, now so humbly begged their son for a trial period.

At this moment, the hardest and coldest barrier in her heart seemed to be gently cracked open by this gentle yet powerful force.

All eyes were focused on Si'an.

Si'an kept his head down, making it impossible to see the expression on his face.

Those tightly clenched little fists, however, slowly and unconsciously loosened.

Time passed, second by second.

Just when Zhou Yanjin's heart was about to sink into an abyss.

He noticed that Si'an's usually taut shoulders seemed to have relaxed slightly... in an extremely subtle way.

Then, he heard a muffled sound, barely louder than a mosquito's hum.

The voice carried the unique sweetness of a child, yet it also carried a hint of reluctant pride.

"...It depends on your performance."

Just six words.

It was like a divine decree, instantly pulling Zhou Yanjin back from hell to heaven!

He saw that as soon as Si'an finished speaking, she immediately lowered her head even further, and her two little hands began to unconsciously play with her fingers. Her small earlobes were tinged with a suspicious blush.

This subtle, childlike shyness completely revealed his inner unease.

ecstasy!

This means that Si'an, this most solid and coldest little iceberg, is finally... beginning to show signs of melting!

He simply gazed deeply, deeply, at his son, his eyes churning with a turbulent emotion unfathomable to outsiders, and then nodded heavily.

"it is good."

This unexpected reunion between father and son.

There was no heart-wrenching scene of wailing and crying as I had imagined, no heart-wrenching questioning or hugs.

It lies within these innocent yet sharp words of childhood, within a man's cautious probing and promises, and in that final, barely audible "It depends on your performance"...

Since that earth-shattering confession, Zhou Yanjin has officially begun his unknown period of fatherhood internship.

The first task of the internship was to fulfill the first promise he made—to pick up and drop off the children at kindergarten.

The morning sunlight streamed through the carved wooden windows of the main room, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

At the dining table, Hua Yun's mother, Li Guifen, had already prepared a steaming hot breakfast.

Millet porridge, boiled eggs, and the kids' favorite milk-flavored steamed buns.

Zhou Yanjin sat on a small stool, his tall frame appearing somewhat cramped, yet he sat upright.

He imitated Hua Yun, carefully peeling a piping hot egg, crushing it with a spoon, sprinkling it with a little salt, and putting it into the three children's small bowls.

His movements were clumsy, yet earnest.

Sile and Sitao looked at him, then at their mother, their little faces full of curiosity.

Only Si'an remained the same mature little adult, quietly drinking her porridge, as if Zhou Yanjin was just a transparent background.

After breakfast, it was time to go to kindergarten.