Chapter 49

Gu Chen had always been someone who valued cleanliness. Even though this was his own son, it was hard for him not to feel a little put off.

Just as he frowned and tried to dodge, An An hugged him tightly and planted a solid kiss on his face. Afterward, he let out a triumphant little laugh.

The damp touch of a child’s lips, combined with the strange sensation of smeared cream, left Gu Chen both amused and exasperated. If he still couldn’t tell that this little rascal was getting back at him on purpose, then there was something wrong with his eyes.

“Little troublemaker An An.”

An An, proud of his mischief, wasn’t the least bit upset at being called bad. Instead, he held his dad’s face and gave him another kiss on the other cheek.

“Daddy is the best~”

“Of course I am. If I weren’t, would you be able to bully me like this?”

Gu Chen reached out and pinched his little nose. Originally, he’d only wanted to bring An An back, and he hadn’t had time to think about anything else. All he knew was that he couldn’t let such a small child suffer there any longer.

He had thought their relationship might be a bit distant, that it would take a long time to adjust and for An An to accept his presence as a father.

But unexpectedly, that didn’t seem to be the case at all. From the moment they met until now, not much time had passed, yet there had never been a hint of unfamiliarity between them.

The bond of blood was something truly miraculous.

“Daddy, kiss!”

An An seriously pondered his dad’s words. Even though he still wanted more kisses, his little brain was sharp enough to understand the underlying message—Daddy was subtly telling him that he loved him very much.

He wiggled excitedly, wanting another kiss.

At this point, he had completely forgotten about the cream smeared around his mouth. Fortunately, Gu Chen—already a victim—no longer minded and simply let him come closer.

—

That evening, after the nanny left, Gu Chen recalled what Brother Li had mentioned—the parenting variety show.

Children were highly likely to face verbal criticism in the public eye.

From the moment he first stood on stage, Gu Chen had known that choosing this career meant being prepared to face storms of public opinion.

At first, he thought this was a great opportunity to work while spending time with An An. But when he considered the potential negative impact, he hesitated.

His popularity was solid, and his resources hadn’t suffered much from the previous incident. He didn’t need to use his child as a marketing tool.

“Baby, do you want to be on TV with Daddy?”

“Huh?”

An An, who had been fiddling with the buttons on his clothes, instinctively looked up. He scooted closer to Gu Chen, who wrapped a long arm around him and repeated the question.

“Would you like to join Daddy in recording a show?”

An An didn’t really understand what “recording a show” meant, but he did understand the key word—”together.”

His eyes lit up, and he happily nodded. “Yes!”

“Then you can’t cry when the time comes, okay? You have to behave.”

“Bai!”

An An eagerly promised. Gu Chen lowered his head and kissed his forehead, holding his tiny hand in his palm.

“Alright, then when it’s time for work, I’ll take you with me.”

“Mm~”

—

That night, Gu Chen found it a little awkward having a small child sleeping beside him. He was used to sleeping alone, and his sleep was already light—he even woke up once in the middle of the night.

Under the dim glow of the bedside lamp, he could see the little one clinging to his arm like an octopus, hands and feet wrapped around it.

The unfamiliar warmth, the soft sound of steady breathing, and the occasional light kick made it clear that this baby wasn’t a very still sleeper.

Gu Chen adjusted his position slightly, bringing An An closer. The faint scent of his baby wash lingered in the air.

Still unable to sleep, he glanced at his phone. Seeing that it wasn’t too late yet, he casually took a few pictures of An An.

Gu Chen was well aware that there was something wrong with his current state. He knew it, but his schedule was so packed that even realizing his condition wasn’t right, he had no time to see a doctor.

Because of work, his days and nights were often flipped. Over time, even on nights without extra work, he simply couldn’t fall asleep.

Any long-time fan of Gu Chen knew that his late-night activity on Weibo was a common occurrence.

This time, he decided to post a few pictures of An An.

Since the fact that he had a child was already public, he never intended to keep An An hidden from the world forever.

The photos didn’t fully reveal An An’s face—only a chubby half-cheek was visible, with his little face buried in sleep.

【Is this the baby? He looks like he’s sleeping so soundly.】

【I want to take a bite, I want to take a bite, I want to take a bite, I want to take a bite!】

【Gu Chen, hurry up and take a bite! Let’s see if he wakes up crying.】

【How could his mom bear to treat such an adorable baby that way?】

【So at this hour, does this mean Gu Chen is personally taking care of the baby at night?】

【You can post pictures of your son, but why don’t you ever post selfies?!】

Gu Chen almost never posted selfies on Weibo. Even when Brother Li asked him to, he would always find an excuse to dodge it.

But posting pictures of An An was different.

In just a few short days, his phone’s album had been completely overtaken by the little guy. No matter which one he picked, it was overwhelmingly cute.

At this moment, he was no different from any ordinary father—wanting the whole world to know just how adorable his child was.

Still wide awake, Gu Chen skimmed through the comments and casually replied to two of them.

【If I bite him, he’ll wake up. If he wakes up and cries, he’s hard to soothe.】

【Not posting.】

After picking out these two to respond to, Gu Chen noticed that An An seemed to be sleeping a little restlessly.

He quickly set his phone aside and pulled the little one closer into his arms.

The little one nestled in his father’s arms instantly calmed down, letting out a soft hum. Gu Chen lowered his head and planted a gentle kiss on his face, his warm voice carrying through the quiet night.

“Good night, baby.”

…

The tentative title of the movie was Investigation. Yu Honghui performed fairly well on set. Though he had no prior fame, the director, against all pressure, insisted on casting him as the lead.

The system was furious when it saw the progress of the plot. It had access to a comprehensive script and could even monitor the main characters through a digital screen in its space.

For example, Yu Honghui’s performance during the audition—something that, in Gu Chen’s previous life, he had spent a long time analyzing, discussing with the screenwriter, and carefully selecting from dozens of possible interpretations—was now effortlessly replicated by Yu Honghui, making him the perfect protagonist in the eyes of both the screenwriter and director.

The third male lead role that Gu Chen had landed hadn’t made much of a splash in the world where Yu Honghui hadn’t been reborn. The character was neither hot nor cold—the worst kind of existence in the industry.

Gu Chen was unaware of this. When Brother Li sent him the footage of Yu Honghui’s audition, he carefully watched it several times, repeatedly analyzing his acting choices.

“Brother Li, why haven’t I heard of this actor before? I never imagined that inner conflict could be conveyed in this way. His handling of the details is incredible.”

Seeing the gleam in Gu Chen’s eyes, Brother Li rubbed his temples in exasperation.

Originally, he had wanted Gu Chen to audition for the lead role—a challenging, righteous character. Given Director Wang’s past works, it was almost guaranteed that, at worst, the film’s reception would still be within an acceptable range.

But Gu Chen had insisted on a supporting role—the third male lead—with a character that wasn’t even entirely positive.

“Yeah, he did well. But I didn’t show you this to praise him. Don’t you have anything to say about this situation?”

“Huh? What should I say? Who did he study under?”

Gu Chen was genuinely curious. Seeing Yu Honghui’s performance had unexpectedly enlightened him.

“I asked his agent—he didn’t have a mentor. He figured it out on his own from the script.”

Brother Li was mildly frustrated by Gu Chen’s reaction. He had already anticipated this question, which was why he had inquired in advance.

Brother Li found it hard to believe that someone with no prior acting talent could suddenly achieve such a rapid breakthrough without any guidance.

But thinking about it, it made sense. In their industry, if someone had found a great teacher, they might not want to share that information so easily.

“Next time I’m on set, I’ll ask him myself. Has Director Wang set a start date for filming?”

“About a week from now. We’ll get a final confirmation later.”

“Alright. And what about that variety show? An An said he’s looking forward to it.”

Now that things were settled on this front, Gu Chen turned his attention to another matter. This film had a unique theme and wouldn’t take too long to shoot. If he managed his time well, he might still make it for the next season of the parenting variety show.

“I’ve already contacted the director. They’ll notify us when the new season starts, so don’t worry about it for now.”

While other job opportunities were uncertain—since no one could predict the shifting dynamics of the industry—this particular show was a sure thing. Given the buzz generated when Gu Chen revealed he had a child, combined with his status in the entertainment industry, the director was the one chasing after them, not the other way around.

“Once you start filming, I’ll coordinate with Director Wang to have An An visit the set frequently. You two need to bond properly. We don’t want any awkward interactions later.”

As an experienced manager, Brother Li understood how sharp modern audiences were. They could instantly tell if a father and son were truly close.

“Don’t stress over that, Brother Li. An An just came back to me recently. It’s normal for us to be a little unfamiliar with each other. If we were too close right away, people would find that suspicious.”

“That’s true.”

Gu Chen responded as he checked a video the nanny had sent him.

Today, the nanny had made a small bowl of rice porridge for An An. Watching the video, Gu Chen noticed that An An’s brows were slightly furrowed the whole time—clearly, he wasn’t a fan of it.

【The baby doesn’t seem to like this. Don’t make it again next time.】

After sending the message, Gu Chen opened his notes app and recorded: An An doesn’t like rice porridge.

Director Wang worked efficiently. After carefully selecting the right cast and confirming that no scheduling conflicts existed, he promptly announced the start of filming.

Gu Chen’s character in the movie was a high-IQ criminal—a top graduate from a prestigious university with an impressive résumé.

In the early stages, there was no trace of him in any of the cases, and he even managed to infiltrate the police force, working as a forensic examiner to assist with investigations.

If he hadn’t eventually made a mistake, he might never have been caught.

Gu Chen knew it was a villainous role, but that didn’t stop him from finding it incredibly compelling.

During breaks in filming when other scenes were being shot, Gu Chen would read the script and sometimes approach Yu Honghui with questions.

“Mr. Yu, I’ve been really curious—how did you decide to portray this scene from that perspective?”

Gu Chen was purely interested in learning. But to Yu Honghui, who carried a guilty conscience, this felt like an interrogation—like Gu Chen was demanding to know how he had acquired this knowledge in the first place.

With a furrowed brow, he set the script aside and tried to keep his voice calm as he asked,

“What? Is this something only you could think of? Or do you think I’m not even worthy of being compared to you?”

In his past life, Yu Honghui had always been completely overshadowed by Gu Chen. Their looks bore a certain resemblance, and their career trajectories were strikingly similar, making constant comparisons inevitable.

Now that he had been given this incredible chance to start over, he was determined to make Gu Chen experience what it was like to be crushed under someone else, never able to rise again.

“No, of course not.”

Gu Chen had only wanted to ask for some advice. He understood that even if Yu Honghui didn’t want to share, it was understandable. He hadn’t expected such hostility right from the first sentence.

“Sorry for disturbing you.”

Yu Honghui watched his retreating figure, then leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to steady his breathing while replaying in his mind the details of Gu Chen’s performance from their past life in this very movie.

After the film aired, what earned Gu Chen the most praise was precisely how well he handled those details.

Gu Chen returned to the break room without mentioning the incident to anyone. He picked up his phone and checked the messages from the nanny—today, An An had been learning to paint with her.

In the middle of a balcony overflowing with plants, An An sat in a light-colored outfit that was now completely stained, gripping a paintbrush and carefully coloring on a blank sheet of paper.

It was impossible to tell what he was drawing, so Gu Chen only took a glance at the “artwork” before focusing all his attention on his son’s serious, concentrated side profile.

“The nanny called me this morning. She said An An really misses you. I just spoke to Director Wang—he said it’s fine for him to visit the set. Tomorrow afternoon, there aren’t any scheduled scenes for you. Will that work?”

Brother Li walked in holding a stack of documents, but he already knew his question was unnecessary. When it came to this, Gu Chen would never refuse. Even if he didn’t have time, he would forcefully carve out a gap in his schedule.

“Of course. I remember there’s a boutique store near the Hengdian entrance that has a lot of stuffed toys. Brother Li, could you buy one for An An as a gift?”

It was, after all, the first time his son would be visiting his workplace—he had to be well-prepared with a small present.

“Got it.”

After that incident, Gu Chen and Yu Honghui barely interacted on set except when absolutely necessary for scenes.

Director Wang sensed the tension between them but assumed they had some unresolved history.

In the entertainment industry, grudges and rivalries were common. Since it didn’t affect the filming schedule, he had no intention of stepping in to mediate.

At lunch the next day, Gu Chen seemed distracted, frequently checking his watch to see how long it had been since the nanny’s last message.

For several days now, by the time he finished filming, it was already late at night. Whenever he called to video chat with An An, the nanny would inform him that the little one had already fallen asleep.

An An had been waiting for him each night but always drifted off before he could call, only to be carried to bed by the nanny.

One time, the nanny even filmed a short clip of An An lying there, trying to stay awake for his father’s call, only to doze off on the spot. She sent the video to Gu Chen.

Gu Chen had watched it countless times, and every time, his heart ached just the same.

At the peak of his distress, he suddenly understood the helplessness Su Ling must have felt when she was forced to be separated from An An.

“They haven’t arrived yet? Could they have been stopped at the entrance?”

Gu Chen put down his chopsticks halfway through his meal and leaned over to ask.

Brother Li watched his impatience, the veins on his forehead twitching. There were still so many people around—could his celebrity be any less composed?

“Not yet. Don’t worry, I already arranged everything in advance. There’s no way they’ll be stopped outside.”

“Alright then…”

…

On the other side, An An had woken up especially early that morning. He had even put on his socks and jacket by himself, looking forward to visiting his dad all morning.

He was wearing his favorite outfit, which he had carefully picked from his wardrobe. The entire morning, he was bouncing around nonstop, and if he had to stand still, he would sway side to side. Even his slightly messy hair seemed to exude joy.

Finally, when it was time to go see his dad, An An obediently put on his baseball cap and mask. He carried a small white water bottle, while the nanny brought a backpack filled with everything a child might need on an outing.

“Going to see Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm! Mr. Li said Daddy won’t be too busy this afternoon, so he should be able to play with you the whole time.”

Hearing this confirmation, An An clapped his little hands in satisfaction.

“Am I piu-ty?”

“You look very handsome. Daddy will definitely be happy to see you.”

After spending so much time caring for An An, the nanny knew his personality well. He was a little show-off who loved being praised. No matter the situation, she never held back on compliments.

The car taking them to the set had been arranged by Brother Li. Sitting in the back seat, An An glanced at his reflection in the window, then gently placed his small hands over his chest.

The nanny immediately noticed something was off. Seeing his action, her heart skipped a beat.

“An An, are you feeling unwell?”

If he was getting carsick, that would be the best-case scenario. The nanny was really afraid something serious was happening.

An An’s eyes flashed with confusion, and he shook his head earnestly before answering in his soft little voice:

“Nuh-uh~ It’s just beating really fast.”

He pointed to his chest with his tiny finger. He didn’t know why, but his heart was pounding so quickly that it made him uneasy, so he instinctively covered it with his hand.

The nanny, who had been so nervous a moment ago, was now torn between laughing and sighing in relief. She opened his water bottle and handed it to him.

“Here, have a sip of water first.”

An An, whose heart was beating too fast, instinctively held onto his water bottle tightly. The nanny gently patted his back and taught him to regulate his breathing with deep breaths.

It was unclear whether the nanny’s method was truly effective or if drinking water had simply distracted An An, but his rapid heartbeat did ease somewhat.

Gu Chen, growing impatient at the end, had the nanny share her location with him. Watching them get closer and closer, he decided to wait right at the door.

Before he left for the entrance, Brother Li had already warned him that paparazzi were likely lurking outside. As long as they caught a few artists visiting the set, they could meet their work quota.

“It’s fine, being photographed doesn’t matter.”

When the car stopped, Gu Chen stood at the entrance, personally carrying An An out of the vehicle.

Having not seen his dad for days, the little boy was beyond excited. His arms clung tightly around his father’s neck as he wriggled in joy.

“Daddy!”

“Hmm, I’m here. Haven’t seen me in so many days—did you miss Daddy a lot?”

Before, An An would have been too shy to admit it. But today, he missed his dad so much that after hearing Gu Chen’s words, he sniffled, and his eyes instantly turned red.

Seeing the tears welling up in those beautiful eyes, Gu Chen was startled. He quickly lowered his head to kiss An An’s cheek and coaxed him softly, “Don’t cry.”

But the little guy, who already missed his dad terribly, didn’t want to hear comforting words. Gu Chen’s familiar voice broke his last bit of composure, and his tears spilled over.

“Wuuu, Daddy.”

“I’m here, I’m here. This afternoon, I’ll spend all my time with you, okay? Don’t cry, be good.”

Gu Chen gently wiped away his tears with his fingertips. He hadn’t realized before that his An An was such a little crybaby—just a few words, and he was already tearing up.

“Wuu wuu, Daddy…”

An An clung to his father even tighter. He was so heartbroken while crying that his small body trembled, and even his nose was covered in a fine layer of sweat from exertion.

Brother Li, watching from the side, felt a pang of sympathy. He suddenly understood why Gu Chen was so anxious to see his son. Looking at the little guy crying so pitifully, if it were him, he’d be just as desperate, if not more.

Eventually, An An cried himself tired. He wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and sobbed softly.

Tear stains were still on his face, and a single teardrop hung from his long, curled eyelashes. His chubby little face was slightly flushed from crying.

Noticing people looking at him, An An pouted and, feeling embarrassed, buried his head against his father’s neck.

Director Wang had been instructing a rookie actor on the other side but was getting frustrated with their poor performance. Hearing that there was a new child on set, he eagerly came over to check it out.

An An looked a lot like Gu Chen. Upon closer examination, he was even more delicate in appearance.

“Little one, why are you crying? I have candy—want to try some?”

As he spoke, Director Wang casually pulled a candy out of his pocket and handed it to An An.

Normally, when others tried to tease An An, his dad would step in to stop them. But this time, Gu Chen didn’t, which made An An vaguely sense that this uncle wasn’t as easy to brush off as the others.

He held out his little hand, waiting for Director Wang to place the candy in his palm, and then, in a teary voice, said, “Thank you, Uncle.”

The smile that had just formed on Director Wang’s lips vanished immediately. If it weren’t for the fresh tear stains on the kid’s face, he would’ve been tempted to pinch his chubby cheeks.

“Uncle? Call me ‘big brother’ instead.”

An An had learned about these identity distinctions from his nanny before. After Director Wang corrected him, he hesitated, wondering if he had actually made a mistake.

He clenched the candy in his palm and stared at Director Wang for a long time.

Director Wang stood there, letting him observe. As people often said, “Would a child this young lie?”

Because of that belief, many people were eager to receive a child’s recognition or praise, and Director Wang was no exception.

If this little guy called him “big brother,” then no one could say he looked old anymore. He’d have proof to refute them.

After watching for a while, An An still felt he wasn’t wrong. In a very soft voice, he called him “Uncle” once again. Then, with a fleeting look of reluctance, he returned the candy that Director Wang had given him.

Turning around, he clung tightly to his father’s neck, silently urging him to leave.

Gu Chen nearly burst out laughing at his son’s actions. He reached out and gently ruffled An An’s hair.

That afternoon, the filming schedule wasn’t too demanding, and other visitors were dropping by the set as well.

Yu Honghui, who was already married and had a child, wasn’t exactly a secret in the industry. Today, his wife brought their child over to visit.

His wife was a gentle and elegant woman, and their son was well-behaved. Their interaction was very natural.

Although Yu Honghui’s current standing in the entertainment industry wasn’t particularly high, he was playing the lead in Director Wang’s film. Once the movie was released, he would undoubtedly become a sensation.

By then, trying to curry favor with him would be too late. So many people in the crew were eager to build connections with him before the film was even completed.

A group of people surrounded them, praising his wife and child. On the surface, Yu Honghui didn’t react much, but inside, he was thrilled.

In this life, the best decision he had made was marrying his wife. She had supported him tremendously in his career and even given birth to such a bright child.

Yu Honghui knew from his previous life that parenting reality shows would only grow in popularity. Many actors who were once struggling gained access to top-tier resources after appearing on those shows.

That show had initially invited him as well, but at the time, he had another engagement and turned it down. When that type of show exploded in popularity, similar opportunities no longer came his way.

Thinking about this, Yu Honghui couldn’t help but check on Gu Chen’s son. He had originally thought that exposing Gu Chen’s secret—hiding the fact that he had a child from his fans—would completely drive him out of the entertainment industry.

Unexpectedly, things didn’t go as planned. Instead of ruining Gu Chen, it actually helped him gain a surge of popularity, and even now, many people still believed Gu Chen was truly pitiful.

Public favor is a strange thing. No one can say for certain how it comes about, but most actors and advertisers prefer to work with celebrities who have a good public image.

Thanks to that incident, Gu Chen successfully made many people see him as a pitiable figure. Yu Honghui could already foresee just how many opportunities Gu Chen would secure by leveraging this perception in the future.

Yu Honghui had never taken a close look at that child before, but now that he had the chance, he wanted to examine him carefully.

The system couldn’t directly read the protagonist’s thoughts, but it could infer his emotions based on his actions, facial expressions, and gaze.

When Yu Honghui looked over, the system immediately gave the host a warning.

Upon hearing the system’s voice, An’an instinctively turned to look in that direction. The moment Yu Honghui got a clear view of An’an’s face, his previously good mood—brought on by his wife and son visiting the set—plummeted.

Until now, he had only known that Gu Chen had a son and that their relationship seemed strong. But he had never expected the child to be this beautiful.

Describing a boy as “beautiful” might feel a little off, but for this child, no other word fit better.

From a distance, he looked like a delicate porcelain doll. His features bore a clear resemblance to Gu Chen, and if Gu Chen’s fans ever saw him, they would undoubtedly become even more devoted to him.

At first, Yu Honghui had assumed that growing up in such an environment would prevent the child from amounting to much. He had even considered whether Gu Chen might join a parenting reality show.

But now that he had seen the child in person, he realized his calculations had failed. Even if Gu Chen himself was unwilling to let his son participate in variety shows, his sharp-witted manager would never pass up such a golden opportunity.

An’an, curious, kept staring at Yu Honghui. Gu Chen had been chatting with Director Wang and hadn’t noticed, but when his son’s gaze lingered on another man for too long, he finally followed his line of sight.

When he saw that the man standing there was Yu Honghui, the smile on Gu Chen’s face instantly disappeared.

The last time they interacted, Yu Honghui had said some bizarre things. And during their scenes together, Gu Chen could feel that Yu Honghui was subtly targeting him.

Gu Chen had replayed their past interactions in his mind many times but still couldn’t figure out what he had done to offend him.

Normally, he wouldn’t have cared. He understood that some people simply didn’t get along. But the moment it involved his son, Gu Chen couldn’t stay indifferent.

He reached out and covered An’an’s curious eyes. An’an, displeased, blinked repeatedly in protest.

The soft tickling of his son’s eyelashes against his palm made Gu Chen shift his hand to the back of An’an’s head, holding him close against his chest.

Director Wang, who had previously been solely focused on his career and never considered marriage, suddenly felt the urge to settle down after seeing Gu Chen’s son.

“Well, have fun. I have to go take care of something,” Director Wang said.

As the director of their production, he had little free time. The screenwriter had just messaged him about some script revisions that needed discussion, so he quickly rushed off.

As long as he was in his father’s arms, An’an was well-behaved. Sensing that Gu Chen didn’t want him looking at that man, he obediently averted his gaze.

“Why were you looking at him?”

Once they reached a spot without other people, Gu Chen lowered his voice and whispered the question into his son’s ear.

An’an trusted the system completely. If not for the system, he wouldn’t even be able to see his father. Remembering how the system had repeatedly warned him that Yu Honghui was a bad person, he pursed his lips and said in a pitiful voice:

“Daddy… he glared at me.”

An’an pouted, and for the first time, he told a lie. His big eyes blinked rapidly, but Gu Chen, never suspecting that such a young child could lie, believed him without hesitation.

Previously, he had only thought that Yu Honghui disliked him. But now, he realized that the man even directed his hostility toward a child.

Just then, Brother Li returned with the plush toy Gu Chen had asked him to buy. As he set it down, Gu Chen mentioned the issue in a slightly displeased tone.

“Brother Li, have we ever had any interactions with Yu Honghui before? Why do I feel like he really dislikes me?”

Brother Li grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisted it open, and gulped down half of it in one go, making An’an, who was still in his father’s arms, widen his eyes in astonishment.

“Huh?”

Only after finishing his drink did Brother Li sit down beside Gu Chen and answer his question.

“As far as I remember, you two haven’t really interacted. But it’s not unusual—he probably just doesn’t like you because you’re both competing in the same space. Your career is going well, so you’ve overshadowed him.”

“That’s just how the industry works, right? When someone sees you succeeding, they get upset. You’re not new to this—how can you not understand something so basic?”

In this industry, the moment competition existed between two people, one’s success could become the other’s reason for resentment. Jealousy, mixed with hatred, was enough to make someone despise another person without ever having had a direct conflict.

“By the way, now that you mention it, I suddenly remember—wasn’t there something about Miss Su before? Could that have been related to him?”

That matter had been a lingering concern for Brother Li. So much time had passed without a single clue, and the longer it dragged on, the more unsettling it became. It was like a venomous snake hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“He even deliberately glared at An An just now.”

Gu Chen still found it hard to believe that whatever entanglements they had could make Yu Honghui resent him to this extent, even going so far as to dig into his college relationship.

If there hadn’t been any malicious intent behind it, Gu Chen might have actually been grateful to whoever was behind this, since it had ultimately brought such a little angel into his life.

“I’ll have someone look into him.”

Brother Li was habitually cautious—if there was even the slightest possibility, he would investigate thoroughly, ruling things out one by one before moving on.

“Alright.”

At this moment, An An had already stuffed his small hands into Gu Chen’s pocket. Whenever his hands felt a little cold, he instinctively sought out a warm place to tuck them in for a while.

“Brother Li, I’ll take An An to look around first.”

“Go ahead.”

After graduating from university, Gu Chen had entered the entertainment industry and begun relentless training and learning. To maintain his image as a perfect celebrity, he acted almost like a programmed machine in public.

It was only in private, away from the public eye, that he could truly be himself.

As a father, he wanted to take his son around his workplace, and if he could earn a look of admiration from An An in the process, that would be even better.

An An, now over three years old, could walk steadily. But today, because he had missed his father too much, he had been clinging to him the entire time, unwilling to be put down.

Every time Gu Chen tried to set him down, An An let out a little humph in protest.

When Gu Chen looked over, the little one instantly put on an innocent face, staring at him as if he hadn’t done anything at all.

Since Gu Chen had pretty good stamina, carrying An An didn’t tire him out. He simply decided not to put him down and took him on a proper tour of his usual workplace.

“Look over there—that’s for wirework. It makes people fly.”

“Fly?”

An An, who had never heard of such a thing before, instinctively widened his eyes in amazement. His reaction greatly satisfied Gu Chen’s sense of pride, and he nodded lightly.

“Mm-hmm, fly—just like this.”

He placed his hands under An An’s armpits and lifted him up, swinging him around like an airplane. Being held so high up made An An a little nervous at first, but his dad’s strong hands gave him a sense of security. Once he got past the initial discomfort, he quickly fell in love with the game.

“Daddy, higher~!”

“Even higher!”