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

"Okay, thank you." Chen Hao replied, and after listening to Editor Liu give him his phone number, he memorized it but didn't intend to save it immediately.

After hanging up the phone, Chen Hao stood there motionless, holding his phone, his eyes somewhat vacant.

He glanced down at the unfamiliar number on his phone screen, then looked up at the unfinished painting "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" on the easel, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

He was not unmoved by the interview with Oriental Art magazine.

He has been painting for so many years, from being unknown at the beginning to being noticed in the industry now. Who wouldn't want more people to recognize their work?

Who wouldn't want their talent to be seen by more people?

But he can't.

Once his identity is revealed, and once the names "Chen Hao" and "Hao Lin" are linked together, people will quickly follow the clues and find out his relationship with Lin Caiwei and the existence of Sisi.

He doesn't care whether he becomes famous, whether he gets more attention and recognition, or even whether his works can sell for a higher price.

The only people he cared about were Sisi and Lin Caiwei.

Sisi is still young, and he doesn't want her to be exposed to the public eye, doesn't want her to be disturbed in any way, and doesn't want her to suffer unnecessary gossip and pressure because of her identity.

Lin Caiwei, on the other hand, has worked hard in her own field and has her own career and reputation. He cannot let her career be affected because of him, or let her be dragged into unnecessary trouble.

Over the years, he has carefully concealed himself in order to protect the mother and daughter; he cannot easily disrupt this peace.

Chen Hao composed himself, placed his phone beside the drawing table, tapped the screen a few times to delete the unfamiliar number, then found He Muqing's number in his contacts, paused for a moment, and dialed it.

He knew that He Muqing meant no harm and it was most likely an unintentional mistake, but he had to make it clear to her that such a situation could not happen again.

The phone was answered after two rings. He Muqing's voice was cheerful, clear, and enthusiastic: "Mr. Chen! Have you finished painting 'Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix'? Or is there something else?"

"Not yet." Chen Hao's tone was calm, without any hint of blame.

"Manager He, I'd like to verify something with you. Just now, someone claiming to be an editor from the magazine 'Oriental Art' called me, saying they wanted to interview me. They said they got their contact information from you."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. You could hear He Muqing's surprise and a hint of panic in her voice. Her tone became serious: "Mr. Chen, I'm so sorry, but that's what happened."

Two days ago, someone from the magazine "Oriental Art" contacted the gallery, saying they wanted to do a feature on emerging ink painters. After seeing your work, they were very interested and specifically requested to interview Mr. Haolin.

I told them that I couldn't disclose any of your personal information to them without your consent before I could communicate with them.

They repeatedly asked me for your contact information, but I didn't give it to them. I only promised to convey their desire to conduct the interview and that I would give them my contact information once you agreed.

She paused, her tone tinged with confusion and guilt:

"Mr. Chen, did they contact you directly? That's impossible. I really didn't give them your phone number, I didn't even tell them your real name, how could this be..."

"They called," Chen Hao interrupted her, his tone still calm. "They probably found out through other channels; it has nothing to do with you."

Manager He, I'm calling you today to tell you that from now on, if anyone inquires about my information, no matter who they are,

Regardless of the organization or media outlet, please refuse to disclose any of my information, including my contact information, real name, or whereabouts.

Without the slightest hesitation, He Muqing immediately replied, "Understood, Mr. Chen, please rest assured."

This was a mistake on my part; I didn't expect they would find your contact information through other channels, causing you trouble. This will absolutely never happen again.

"It's none of your business," Chen Hao said. "You meant well, wanting to help me get more opportunities, I understand."

"I have my own difficulties and cannot reveal my identity, so I'm sorry to trouble you."

"Mr. Chen, are you worried that having your identity exposed might cause you trouble?"

He Muqing asked cautiously, her tone tinged with a hint of probing. Having known Chen Hao for so long, she knew he was a low-key person who never revealed much about himself.

He rarely even participates in gallery events. I always thought he simply liked to keep a low profile, but now it seems there might be other reasons.

Chen Hao didn't answer directly, but simply sighed softly and said:

"I have my reasons, but I won't go into details. Thank you for your help, Manager He."

"No trouble at all, Mr. Chen, you're too kind," He Muqing quickly replied.

"Don't worry, from now on, no matter who asks for your information, I will say that I can't contact you and will never reveal anything about you. I will definitely keep your secret."

"Thanks."

After hanging up the phone, Chen Hao put it aside, picked up his drawing pen again, but his fingertips felt a little cold, and he couldn't concentrate.

He looked at the unfinished painting "A Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" on the painting table. The phoenix's posture was already vivid, with full feathers and a majestic expression. The layout of the hundred birds was also taking shape, each with its own expression.

But what he was thinking about wasn't the phoenix, the hundred birds, or the patterns on his brush; it was the people who were searching for "Haolin".

Yu Mobai is looking for him, the president of the Chinese Painting Association. Last time at Lin Sinian's house, he was particularly interested in Haolin's works and kept asking about his identity. He's definitely still looking for him now.

The magazine "Oriental Art" is also looking for him, and there may be other media outlets and collectors also inquiring about who "Haolin" is.

How long could he hide? The thought suddenly popped into his head, swirling in his mind and refusing to leave.

He knew that the truth would eventually come out, and as his work gained more and more attention, more and more people would be curious about "Haolin's" true identity, and someone would eventually find him.

But he still wanted to hold on a little longer, to protect the mother and daughter for a little longer, even if it was just one more day.