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

"Thank you, Chen Hao," Lin Caiwei said again, her voice still trembling with sobs. "Thank you for taking such good care of her. Thank you for making her so happy and carefree."

If it weren't for you, I really don't know what I would have done.

Chen Hao quietly left Sisi's room, leaving the door slightly ajar to prevent the outside light from disturbing her. He then walked to the living room, sat back down on the sofa, and said into the phone, "I told you, you don't need to be so polite with me."

She's my daughter. Taking care of her and making her happy is my duty. I'll always be there for her, no matter what.

Lin Caiwei was silent for a while on the other end of the phone, then took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself down. Her voice gradually returned to normal, but still had a slight nasal tone: "Chen Hao, I will finish the tour as soon as possible. I will speed up the pace and try to go back as soon as possible. I want to go home. I want to be with you and Sisi. I never want to be separated again."

Chen Hao's heart stirred, a warm current welled up from the bottom of his heart, and his eyes became slightly hot. He held the phone and said firmly, "Okay, I'll wait for you to come back. Sisi and I are both waiting for you to come back, waiting for you to come home."

The two looked at each other through the screen. Although they couldn't see each other's faces, they could both feel each other's emotions.

Lin Caiwei's eyes were red, with undried tears still clinging to her eyelashes, but the corners of her mouth were slowly turning up, carrying a hint of expectation and relief.

Chen Hao looked at his phone screen, a mix of emotions welling up inside him—a sense of relief, anticipation, and a barely perceptible joy. He knew that his family would soon be reunited.

"Then you should get some rest." Lin Caiwei's voice was gentle, with a hint of fatigue but also anticipation. "Don't stay up too late, take care of yourself and Sisi too."

"You too," Chen Hao said. "Be careful during the performance, don't overwork yourself, eat on time, and take good care of yourself. Sisi and I are waiting for you to come back."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Good night."

The call ended, but Chen Hao remained seated on the sofa, phone in hand, for a long time without moving.

The phone screen gradually dimmed, revealing his face. In his eyes, there was expectation, determination, and a hint of barely perceptible tenderness.

He recalled Lin Caiwei's crying on the phone, her choked voice when she said, "Am I so sorry to Sisi?", and the tone of her voice when she said, "I want to go home." That weariness and longing were deeply imprinted in his heart.

He also recalled how Lin Caiwei, as a mother, couldn't openly accompany her daughter to sports meets or parent-teacher conferences. She could only watch her daughter sleeping through a screen late at night. He could understand that helplessness and heartache.

He then recalled that Lin Caiwei was a star, outwardly glamorous and adored by thousands, receiving flowers and applause wherever she went. But behind the scenes, she had too many things beyond her control, unable to even accompany her child to a parent-teacher meeting or participate in a parent-child activity. Only she knew the loneliness and grievances she felt.

Chen Hao leaned back on the sofa, tilted his head back, and looked at the ceiling. The image of Sisi kept appearing in his mind—her expectant eyes when she asked, "Can Mom come?"; the sadness on her little face when she heard that Mom couldn't come; and her understanding when she smiled and said, "Daddy can win by himself."

And then there's Lin Caiwei—her choked-up voice on the phone, the heartache in her eyes as she looked at Sisi's sleeping face, and the longing she felt when she said, "I want to go home."

He also recalled that night in the park when four thugs surrounded them. Lin Caiwei was terrified, her face pale and her whole body trembling, yet she still instinctively shielded Sisi behind her, holding her tightly, afraid that she would be hurt in the slightest. He remembered her twisted ankle, wincing in pain, but still gritting her teeth and saying it didn't hurt, not wanting him to worry. He remembered the way her eyes lit up when she ate delicious food, as happy as a child. He remembered how she jumped and skipped when she successfully folded a paper crane, her face full of joy. And that morning, she stood at the kindergarten gate, watching Sisi walk into the kindergarten through the car window, her eyes full of reluctance and concern.

Chen Hao closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and felt a mix of emotions.

He didn't know what the future held, when Lin Caiwei would reveal her identity, when Sisi would be able to openly hold her mother's hand and walk down the street, or when their family would truly be reunited and no longer have to hide.

But he knew one thing—he had to protect this family, protect Sisi, and protect Lin Caiwei.

No matter how many people are watching Haolin's identity, no matter how many risks await him in the stock market, no matter how much trouble and difficulty he may encounter in the future, he will not back down. He will do everything in his power to protect the two women beside him, so that they no longer have to hide, so that Sisi can snuggle in her mother's arms and openly call Lin Caiwei "Mom," and so that Lin Caiwei can confidently hold her daughter's hand to go to the park, to the supermarket, and to attend every parent-child activity and every parent-teacher meeting.

This was his determination, and also the most important responsibility of his life.

Chen Hao opened his eyes, stood up, walked to Sisi's room, gently pushed the door open a crack, and looked inside.

The light from the nightlight shone warmly on Sisi's face. She turned over and lay flat on her back, loosening the blanket around herself with her little hands. She mumbled something softly, her voice indistinct, before falling back into a deep sleep, a faint smile still lingering on her lips.

Chen Hao gently closed the door, turned around and walked into the studio, turning on the studio lights. The lights suddenly came on, illuminating the entire studio.

On the painting table, "A Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" was still laid out, unfinished. The phoenix's tail feathers gleamed with an ink-black luster under the light, the lines smooth and powerful, lifelike.

He walked to the painting table, picked up the brush beside him, dipped it in ink, gently scraped off the excess ink, and then lowered his head to continue painting the unfinished birds.

The studio was quiet, with only the soft, gentle sound of the brush tip touching the paper, which was especially clear in the quiet room.

Chen Hao lowered his head, drawing stroke by stroke, his movements serious and his eyes focused, but Lin Caiwei's words kept echoing in his mind—"I want to go home."

almost.

He said it silently to himself.

Soon, you will be able to go home. Soon, we will be reunited. Soon, Sisi will be able to hold your hand openly and call you "Mom".

As he drew, he silently recited the mantra to himself, his pen moving with increasing determination, each stroke filled with anticipation and hope.

Under the lamplight, his shadow stretched long as his pen moved across the paper, gradually forming little birds that seemed to express their longing for reunion and their anticipation for the future.

The quiet in the studio, the scratching of the brush, and his unwavering determination intertwined to create a warm and hopeful scene.