Hard work after winning the lottery

Zhou Yanjin's black Bentley was once again driving on the winding mountain road.

When getting into the car, Zhou Yinchuan occupied the entire back seat without saying a word, claiming that "the back is spacious and I need to lie down for a while."

As soon as he lay down, he closed his eyes and began to snore softly and steadily, as if he were truly exhausted.

Thus, the driver's seat and the front passenger seat became the exclusive space that Zhou Yanjin and Hua Yun could not escape.

Inside the carriage, the expensive fragrance blended with the faint scent of soap on her body, creating a subtle atmosphere.

The space was so small that even the air felt thick and sticky.

Zhou Yanjin gripped the steering wheel, his well-defined knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

He stared intently at the road ahead, his jawline taut.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he couldn't help but glance at the woman beside him again and again.

Hua Yun then turned her face to the window.

The rapidly receding green trees and the rolling mountains appeared as a blurry patch of color in her eyes.

Her reflection was clearly visible in the car window, as was the focused and aloof profile of the man beside her.

An hour's drive felt like an eternity.

Central Hospital.

The results of the full physical examination came out quickly.

The doctor, holding the report, gave Zhou Yanjin and Hua Yun, who both looked nervous, a formulaic smile.

"The old man is in good health and there's nothing seriously wrong. The tightness in his chest is probably due to the recent weather changes, plus his age causing some fluctuations in blood pressure. He just needs to rest when he gets home and keep a positive mood."

Hua Yun: "..."

really.

She glanced at Zhou Yinchuan, who was taking the report and had a "I told you it was nothing" expression on his face. The old man was in good spirits and showed no trace of the weakness he had just shown.

Zhou Yinchuan seemed oblivious to Hua Yun's complex expression. He held the report, nodded in satisfaction, and then immediately turned to the two of them, his voice booming.

"Did you hear that? The doctor said you need to keep a positive mood!"

He slapped his thigh, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

"If I had to say when I'm in a good mood, it would be when I'm with the kids! Just seeing those three little ones makes my heart sweeter than honey!"

He then changed the subject and naturally revealed his ultimate goal.

"Yun'er, Yanjin, you have to listen to the doctor! Next time, next time we'll bring Si'an, Sile, and Sitao, and the whole family will go out to play together, okay?"

As evening fell, the two old men, whose combined age was nearly 150, sat down again under the old locust tree in the courtyard.

Hua Mutou puffed on his pipe, exhaled a murky smoke ring, and glanced at Zhou Yinchuan with annoyance.

"You old codger, all you know is how to use these empty tricks."

Zhou Yinchuan chuckled, neither denying it nor denying it. Instead, he leaned closer, his tone tinged with emotion.

"Old Hua, you know what, this trick may seem fake, but it actually works."

He lowered his voice and his expression became serious.

"I can see that Yan Jin has truly put his heart into this and is genuinely repentant."

"Look at him these past few days, where is the slightest bit of the Zhou Group CEO's airs? He peels eggs for the kids, tells them stories, picks them up and drops them off at school, he's more attentive than a nanny. He truly cares about the children, and he treats Yun'er with utmost respect, not daring to overstep his bounds in the slightest."

Zhou Yinchuan sighed heavily, his cloudy eyes reflecting the sunset on the horizon.

"What else can we old people hope for? Isn't it just that our children and grandchildren can find good homes, and that our family can live peacefully and happily together?"

Hua Mutou fell silent.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, the acrid smoke obscuring the expression on his face.

After a long pause, he finally let out a heavy snort through his nose.

"All talk and no action is useless."

His voice remained as stubborn and forceful as ever.

"It looks good now, but who knows how long it will last. A man's words are always deceiving!"

That's what they say.

But his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the main room not far away.

Inside, the lights were on.

You can faintly hear Zhou Yanjin's deep and magnetic voice reading a story from a picture book to the children.

Interspersed among them were Si Tao's clear laughter and Sile's soft, sweet questions.

Even Si'an, who was usually the most silent, seemed to let out a very soft "hmm" in agreement.

Hua Mutou knew that Zhou Yinchuan was telling the truth.

Since Zhou Yanjin moved in, this home has definitely changed.

The three little ones, who had lacked fatherly love since childhood and were more sensitive and precocious than their peers, visibly smiled more often.

Human hearts are made of flesh and blood.

What's more, she was his own granddaughter whom he had watched grow up, and his three great-grandchildren who were connected to him by blood.

Whether Zhou Yanjin is good or bad, sincere or fake, time is the one thing that can't lie.

And Huayun is being changed little by little by this invisible and intangible time.

She admitted that she could not ignore the changes in Zhou Yanjin over the past two weeks.

This man was once the president of the Zhou Group, standing at the top of the pyramid, wielding immense power.

A single glance from him could send shivers down the spines of executives who had served him for years.

But now?

Hua Yun saw him more than once in the yard, taking off his expensive custom-made suit and wearing only a white shirt, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his well-defined forearms, clumsily following Si Tao and Sile to build blocks.

Those hands, which once only signed contracts worth hundreds of millions, are now carefully holding a small plastic cube.

The tower of blocks collapsed again and again.

Sitao and Sile burst into laughter.

He wasn't annoyed, but just sighed helplessly, then looked at the two little ones with his deep eyes, his voice carrying a hint of indulgence that he himself didn't realize.

"Let's do it one more time, okay? This time, Daddy promises we'll make it all the way to the sky."

Hua Yun leaned against the kitchen door frame, holding a dishcloth in her hand, looking somewhat lost in thought.

The sunlight fell on him, melting away some of the innate coldness and aloofness that surrounded him.

And on the dinner table.

He always manages to accurately capture each child's preferences.

Sile loves scrambled eggs with tomatoes, so he quietly moved the dish to Sile's side.

Si Tao has a special fondness for braised pork. He would use serving chopsticks to pick out several pieces in advance, remove the fatty parts, and leave only the lean ones, then put them in Si Tao's bowl.

As for Si'an...

Si'an prefers to eat quietly and doesn't like to be disturbed.

Zhou Yanjin never offered him food, but silently observed him. If Si'an glanced at a dish a few more times, he would intentionally or unintentionally let that dish linger in front of Si'an for a few more seconds the next time he turned the table.

These details are as subtle as dust in the wind; if you don't look closely, you'll hardly notice them.

But Hua Yun saw it.

She could see it clearly.

One night, she even got up to get a drink of water and passed by the study.

A faint light shone through the crack in the tightly closed door, accompanied by a man's deliberately lowered, slightly hesitant voice.

"...And then, the big bad wolf...knocked on the little pig's...thatched hut...?"

His voice carried a hint of uncertainty, as if he were reciting something.

Hua Yun paused, then quietly moved closer.

She heard the rustling of pages turning inside, followed by his deep, resonant voice as he practiced.

"No, the tone is wrong."

"It should be... 'Knock knock knock,' 'Little pig, open the door...'"

He tried to imitate the tone of the Big Bad Wolf in the story, making his voice sound more "fierce," but it always sounded awkwardly earnest.

Hua Yun's heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something.

It turns out that the new stories he tells the children every day are not just something he comes up with on the spot.

It was he who secretly practiced like this again and again in the dead of night.

That earnestness was far from being a perfunctory task.

It's clear that I'm holding a sincere heart, but I don't know how to awkwardly offer it.