Mr. He’s Daily Affections

He Jingyao knelt on the ground halfway, and looked down at the little guy, his face showed no emotion, but his eyes were dark and deep.

The little guy didn't dare to feel the atmosphere made by his aura, and his mouth widened slightly, his face nervous.

"Xiaobao." He Jingyao whispered his name, "Should I give you a big name, eh?"

The little guy rolled his eyes and smiled: "No, no more... I'm waiting for my dad to get me up."

"That's it." He Jingyao ticked his lips. "But didn't you just call me "Daddy" smoothly? Huh?"

"I was... that was to cooperate with you." Xiaobao remembered the words just mentioned by He Jingyao, and the spirit machine was used.

He Jingyao reached out and squeezed his face, looking straight into his eyes: "Do you know Su Zhixi? Or, Gu Zhixi?"

"No... I don't know!" Xiao Bao continued to laugh, but Xiao Xiao's face was filled with the words "confidence".

Asked here, He Jingyao already knew.

He squeezed his lips tightly, feeling his more and more rapid heartbeat, and he didn't know what to think for a while.

If the child is really his, then what does it mean?

Moved? Surprise? Is it unbelievable?

It seems to be there, but it seems not.

His fingers moved, staring at the little man's panicked eyes, and suddenly laughed dumbly.

Xiao Bao was frightened by him, and stretched out two small hands to cover his eyes: "I won't say anything!"

If Dad guessed it himself, it wouldn't matter to him.

He Jingyao grabbed his two hands and clenched his palms. The little guy's hands were soft and fleshy, and suddenly an unspeakable emotion rose in his heart.

This emotion is so strange that he feels a little hot in his eyes.

"Xiaobao." He spoke again.

"Why..." he asked cautiously.

He Jingyao's throat rolled, and he smiled dumbly: "It's fine."

After he finished, he picked up the little guy. He had hugged the child many times before, but none of them felt as indescribable as it is now.

He closed his eyes and restrained the complex and turbulent emotions on his chest.

The little guy clasped his neck obediently, with a soft voice: "Are you... are you angry?"

"...No." He Jingyao's voice was hoarse, holding him upstairs and coming to the bathroom.

He put the little guy on the hand-washing table and caught his two hands under the faucet. This little guy grabbed his hands when he first ate the buns. He had never washed his hands. He Jingyao had just touched a hand of oil.

He silenced the little guy's hands with hand sanitizer and rubbed it carefully.

Xiaobao was a little dazed.

Dad doesn't seem to be angry, but he doesn't seem to be happy...what is Dad thinking?

He looked at him in the mirror and looked down at his father washing his hands, his expression more confused.

"Okay." He Jingyao took a towel and wiped his hands clean, then squeezed his small face. "You can't hold your hands next time when you eat, have you heard?"

He nodded quickly, his eyes nervous.

He Jingyao smiled and hugged him back to the bedroom: "Don't be afraid, I won't hit you again."

"Uncle, you... you will still hit people!" Xiao Bao looked at him with an incredible expression on his face.

As soon as the words fell, his head was flicked.

"What are you calling me?"