A Billionaire CEO Brings His Child Home: The Awakening of the Stay-at-Home Dad System

Wu Licheng held Chen Hao's hand, his smile still lingering.

Chen Hao released his hand, glanced at Tingting beside him, and then turned back to look at Wu Licheng.

"Director Wu, I have a request. I would like my daughter to participate in the competition with me."

Wu Licheng paused for a moment, then looked down at Shen Xiaoting standing next to Chen Hao.

The little girl had pigtails, wore a pink T-shirt, tilted her head back, her eyes were bright, and she was holding a plush rabbit in her arms.

Wu Licheng frowned slightly.

He has participated in countless paper airplane competitions, and the youngest contestant he has ever seen was seven or eight years old.

Three- or four-year-old children can't even fold paper neatly, let alone fold a paper airplane that can fly far.

As for being a pitcher, that's even more impossible. Pitchers need to be tall and strong to throw paper airplanes at enough speed and angle.

He wondered to himself, how could this young man have such thoughts?

Wu Licheng frowned, trying to be as gentle as possible, but the meaning was clear: "Teacher Chen, your daughter is too young."

Although there is no age limit for the paper airplane competition, she is not tall enough or strong enough, so the paper airplanes she folds probably won't fly very far.

As for being a pitcher, that's even more impossible.

A pitcher needs to be tall, have a long reach, and possess explosive power to throw a paper airplane to its maximum initial velocity.

After he finished speaking, he glanced at Chen Hao and felt that his reasons were sufficient, and that a normal person would give up the idea after hearing them.

Chen Hao smiled, pulled his daughter from behind, and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Director Wu, I'll be the pitcher. Tingting will fold the paper airplanes."

Wu Licheng's brow remained furrowed.

He looked at Chen Hao, then at Tingting, and shook his head.

"Teacher Chen, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just worried that the paper airplane your daughter folded won't fly well enough."

After all, she is only three or four years old, with small hands and little strength, so the precision of her creases may not meet the requirements of the competition.

Chen Hao stood on the village road, holding the paper airplane in his right hand, and felt the center of gravity.

Tingting's folded airplane had a slightly forward center of gravity, more so than the ones she folded herself. This would affect the flight attitude, but not significantly.

He adjusted his grip, with his thumb and forefinger holding the front part of the fuselage, and his middle finger gently supporting the belly of the fuselage.

Take a deep breath, lean your body back slightly, raise your arms backward, and forcefully swing them forward.

The paper airplane shot out of his hand at great speed, hurtling forward along an almost straight trajectory, its wings fluttering smoothly in the airflow.