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

Shen Xiaoting buried her face in her father's chest, leaving only one eye showing.

She looked at the two unfamiliar elderly people in front of her—

The man was thin and dark-skinned, with wrinkles all over his face when he smiled; the woman was round and fair-skinned, with red eyes, and looked very kind.

She hesitated for a long while before finally managing to squeeze out a soft, delicate sound—

"Grandpa...Grandma..."

The sound was very soft, like a mosquito's hum, but everyone present heard it.

Meng Meiling's eyes immediately welled up with tears.

She covered her mouth with her hand, not even noticing the rag fall to the ground.

She looked at the small, timid little girl, at her eyes that were almost identical to her son's when he was a child.

Seeing the tension and unease on her delicate face, I felt as if something had hit me hard in the heart.

"This...this..." Chen Bingzhong's voice trembled slightly. He opened his mouth, but it took him a long time to finish a sentence.

"Ah Hao, how... how come you suddenly have a daughter? We've never heard you mention her before. When did you have a daughter? Who is her mother? Where is she?"

A barrage of questions came at me like a machine gun.

Chen Bingzhong's brows were furrowed deeply, his expression complex.

There was shock, confusion, a little inexplicable excitement, and a joy he was too embarrassed to admit.

Meng Meiling wiped away her tears and followed:

"Yeah, Hao, you have a daughter, why didn't you tell us? We've been worried about you, even asking people to introduce you to potential partners, but you ignored them all. So that's why..."

"Mom," Chen Hao interrupted her, his tone calm, "I only found out yesterday."

These words stunned the two elderly people once again.

Chen Hao adjusted his position holding his daughter, but Shen Xiaoting still clung tightly to him, her little hands gripping his collar, her knuckles turning white.

He could feel his daughter's heart beating fast, and her little body trembling slightly—she was scared.

It's normal for a three-year-old child to be afraid when taken to a completely unfamiliar place and meet completely unfamiliar people.

He gently patted his daughter's back, then continued speaking to his parents:

Four years ago, I dated Tingting's mother for a while.

Later she suddenly disappeared. I looked for her but couldn't find her, and eventually... I let it go.

I never expected her to suddenly appear in front of me yesterday with Tingting, saying that Tingting is my daughter.

He paused, glanced down at his daughter in his arms, and lowered his voice:

"A paternity test has been done, and it's confirmed. Tingting is indeed my daughter."

This passage contains many loopholes and many unclear points.

But Chen Hao didn't want to talk about those things in front of his daughter—things like being drunk, having a one-night stand, or an accident.

After listening to her son's words, Meng Meiling remained silent for a while, then lowered her head and looked carefully at Shen Xiaoting in Chen Hao's arms.

The little girl was very fair-skinned, so fair it almost glowed, almost dazzling in the afternoon sun.

Her face was round, but her chin was pointed, and her features were incredibly delicate.

The eyebrows are curved and thin, with the ends slightly upturned.

Her eyes were large, with deep double eyelids and slightly upturned corners. Her pupils were dark brown, like two black grapes soaking in water.

The bridge of the nose is quite high, even though it hasn't fully developed yet;

Her lips were pink and tender, with the lower lip slightly thicker than the upper lip, and she was pouting slightly.

Meng Meiling's gaze lingered on the child's eyes.

The shape of those eyes, the slight upturn at the corners, the slightly timid yet focused look in their eyes when they gaze at people—

She looks exactly like her son Chen Hao when he was a child.

She remembered clearly that Chen Hao looked at people the same way when he was three or four years old—

Her big eyes held curiosity, nervousness, probing, and a hint of stubbornness that she couldn't hide.

Meng Meiling's tears welled up again.

She wasn't the type to cry loudly; her tears flowed silently, trickling down her cheeks and dripping onto the front of her floral shirt.

She didn't wipe it, she just looked at Shen Xiaoting, the corners of her mouth slowly turned up, up, and finally into a very big smile.

She stretched out her hand towards Shen Xiaoting, palm up, fingers slightly spread.

"Tingting," her voice was soft and gentle, as if afraid of startling a little bird.

"Can Grandma hug you?"

Shen Xiaoting looked at her grandmother's outstretched hand, then looked up at her father.

Chen Hao lowered his head, looked into his daughter's eyes, and nodded with a smile.

Shen Xiaoting hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly and whispered a single word:

"it is good."

She released her grip on her father's collar, turned around, and opened her arms in Meng Meiling's direction.

Meng Meiling carefully took her granddaughter, as if she were receiving the most precious piece of porcelain in the world.

The moment Shen Xiaoting's small body fell into her arms, she trembled all over—not from the cold, but from excitement.

"Oh... my sweet little girl..." Meng Meiling held her granddaughter in her arms, her voice trembling and soft, with a heavy dialect accent.

"Grandma, hug me, Grandma, hug me... Let Grandma take a good look at you..."

Shen Xiaoting was initially a little stiff as her grandmother held her, but Meng Meiling's embrace was warm, offering a different kind of security than a mother's embrace.

My mother's embrace is fragrant, soft, and smells of gardenias;

Grandma's embrace was warm, solid, and smelled of laundry detergent and sunshine.

She slowly relaxed, her little hands no longer clenched so tightly, and rested on her grandmother's shoulder, her fingers slightly curled.

Meng Meiling held her granddaughter, looking at her from left to right, unable to get enough of looking at her.

She reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Shen Xiaoting's ear, her fingertips gently brushing against her granddaughter's cheek—

Her skin was smooth and tender, like a peeled egg.

"Tingting, how old are you?" Meng Meiling asked.

Shen Xiaoting held up three fingers, thought for a moment, then took one back, and then held up three fingers again, whispering, "Three years old."

"Three years old..." Meng Meiling nodded.

"Three years old is good, three years old is good. Does Tingting like it here?"

Shen Xiaoting looked around—

The two-story building in front of me, the plastic chairs at the door, the dusty flowerpots on the windowsill, my father's white car parked on the cement ground, and the farmland and forests in the distance.

She had never seen a place like this before; it was completely different from the apartment buildings in Beijing.

She thought for a moment, then nodded gently: "I like it."

Meng Meiling laughed so hard her eyes disappeared, and the wrinkles on her face were squeezed together like a blooming chrysanthemum.

"I'm glad you like it. What would you like to eat, Tingting? Grandma will make it for you."

Shen Xiaoting didn't answer, but buried her face in her grandmother's shoulder and smiled secretly.