Before Zhao Wensheng had realized it, his son and Gu Mo had grown so attached in just two days. Feeling slightly surprised, he walked over and picked up the child.
When the little guy was suddenly lifted up by his father like an eagle snatching a chick, he woke from his dream, blinking open his eyes, he saw it was his father, and his ten little fingers awkwardly intertwined, "Daddy, how come you're here?"
"Didn't your mom tell you, we're going for a check-up this afternoon?" Zhao Wensheng put his son down on the ground and started to put a children's tank top on him.
"We're leaving now, huh." The little guy remembered, but was still reluctant to go.
Zhao Wensheng couldn't imagine what he could be playing with here that would make him linger. Looking around Gu Mo's room, there weren't any toys, no television, let alone anything else that could attract a child.
