He unexpectedly becomes a father at the start of his life, and the mother of his child is a national

Yu Mobai was stunned for a moment. The expectation on his face turned into deep disappointment, the light in his eyes dimmed completely, and he was full of loss.

"Then...do I still have a chance with Mr. Haolin?" He asked cautiously, unwilling to give up.

"I can help you convey your feelings to Haolin," Chen Hao said truthfully, giving him a response while also upholding his own bottom line.

"But whether he wants to see you or not, I can't force him, and I can't give you any guarantees. It all depends on his own wishes."

Yu Mobai opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, or plead a few more times, but seeing Chen Hao's firm and calm expression, he swallowed all his words and could only nod helplessly.

"Okay, okay, I understand," he replied repeatedly, his tone full of helplessness.

"Thank you so much. Please be sure to tell Mr. Haolin that I truly admire his paintings."

I had no ulterior motives, and I didn't want to disturb his life; I simply wanted to exchange ideas about calligraphy and painting with him.

Chen Hao nodded slightly, then turned around to return to his car.

Just then, Yu Mobai suddenly spoke up, hurriedly calling out to him, "Wait!"

Chen Hao paused, then slowly turned around to look at him.

Yu Mobai immediately bent down, leaned into the passenger seat, and carefully took out a long, narrow wooden box.

The wooden box is dark brown and looks very old. The edges and corners are worn and white, and the paint is peeling off. It has a strong sense of age and is clearly an old object that has been treasured for many years.

He held the wooden box steadily in both hands, his posture respectful and solemn, and carefully handed it to Chen Hao.

"This is the most prized and cherished piece of my collection in my life." Yu Mobai's tone was sincere and solemn, his eyes filled with deep affection.

"It is a small flower and bird painting from the Qing Dynasty. Although the artist is not a famous historical figure and is not well-known, the skill and artistic conception of the painting are top-notch and full of charm."

He paused for a moment, then said, "I would like to ask Mr. Haolin to take a look and give me his opinion."

If he likes or approves of this painting, I'm willing to give it to him without reservation.

Chen Hao looked down at the ancient, heavy wooden box in front of him, and did not immediately reach out to take it, refusing in a calm tone:

"President Yu, this gift is too precious, I cannot accept it."

"It's not valuable at all." Yu Mobai quickly shook his head, his attitude exceptionally firm and his tone sincere.

"Calligraphy and painting are things that should be given to those who understand them in order to show their value. If they fall into the hands of those who do not understand them, it is a waste."

"I'm getting old and don't have much time left. I've collected so many calligraphy and paintings in my life, and I don't know who to leave them to or entrust them to in the future."

Yu Mobai's tone was tinged with emotion, and his eyes were incredibly sincere.

"Mr. Haolin is a once-in-a-century genius in calligraphy and painting. His vision, skills, and aesthetic sense far surpass those of ordinary people. It is best for him to appreciate this painting."

I just wanted to hear his professional opinion, to fulfill a wish I had.

Seeing the old man's sincere and selfless demeanor, Chen Hao was slightly moved. After hesitating for a moment, he finally reached out and took the heavy wooden box.

It feels warm and smooth to the touch, and you can feel the weight of time.

"I will hand it over to him completely, and I will also convey your sentiments along with it," Chen Hao said solemnly.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Yu Mobai was overjoyed instantly, his disappointment vanished, and he immediately broke into a sincere smile, his eyes full of joy. He looked simple and pure, like a child who had finally received candy, overjoyed.

Chen Hao said no more, picked up the wooden box, turned around and walked back to his car, got into the driver's seat, and closed the car door.

He started the car, and through the rearview mirror, he could clearly see Yu Mobai still standing quietly in the same spot, his posture upright, watching him leave without moving, his eyes full of expectation and earnestness.

Chen Hao sighed softly, stepped on the gas, and slowly drove out of the parking lot, heading towards home.

Throughout the journey, Yu Mobai's expression kept replaying in his mind—his heart full of love and dedication, so pure and moving.

A dozen minutes later, the car came to a smooth stop downstairs.

Chen Hao parked his car, carrying the old, long wooden box, and walked into the elevator, returning home.

Pushing open the door, I saw Lin Caiwei sitting quietly on the sofa in the living room, reading a book, her posture relaxed and gentle.

Hearing the door open, she looked up and her gaze immediately fell on the wooden box in Chen Hao's hand. She then put down the book in her hand, got up and walked over.

"What is this?" Lin Caiwei asked softly, a hint of doubt in her eyes.

"It was given to me by Yu Mobai." Chen Hao casually placed the wooden box on the coffee table in the living room and explained in a flat tone.

Upon hearing that name, Lin Caiwei's expression changed slightly, and worry instantly welled up in her eyes: "He found you? Has he been following you?"

"Yes." Chen Hao nodded frankly and said slowly, "Today I took Sisi to kindergarten, and he followed behind me the whole way without breaking up."

After I noticed, instead of deliberately avoiding him, I drove him to a secluded place and talked to him face-to-face.

"Why would you take such a risk!" Lin Caiwei's heart tightened instantly. She quickly took two steps forward, carefully looking Chen Hao up and down, her voice full of worry, fearing something might happen to him.

"What if he has ulterior motives? It's too worrying for you to go alone. Are you feeling unwell? Is everything alright?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine, nothing's wrong." Chen Hao patted her shoulder reassuringly, then sat down on the sofa, his tone relaxed.

"He had no ill intentions whatsoever. His only purpose from beginning to end was to meet Haolin. He was simply obsessed with Haolin's paintings."

Lin Caiwei sat down next to him, her gaze falling on the old wooden box on the coffee table, her eyes still showing some concern.

"Was this box and its contents specifically entrusted to you for delivery?"

"Yes." Chen Hao nodded in response.

He said this was his most prized possession, which he had treasured for many years, and he wanted Haolin to take a look, give him some feedback, and share his professional insights.

If Haolin likes it, then this painting can be given to me as a gift.

Lin Caiwei remained silent for a long time, her thoughts churning. Then she looked up at Chen Hao and asked softly:

"So what are you planning to do now? Just tell him that you are Haolin himself?"

Chen Hao gently shook his head, his tone resolute:

"No. I didn't reveal my identity. I only told him that I knew Haolin and could help him convey his feelings and deliver items."

Lin Caiwei stared at him intently, her eyes revealing a clear pang of heartache and a hint of unconcealed worry.

"Chen Hao, you've been hiding your identity all this time, enduring everything and concealing everything. Aren't you tired?" she asked softly, her tone gentle and full of concern.

Chen Hao lowered his head and chuckled softly, his tone tinged with helplessness:

"I'm tired, definitely tired. But there are many things I can't control, there's nothing I can do about it."