To kick off their dinner, Shen Zhaohui signaled his personal waiter to serve the dishes he'd ordered.
For once, he decided to drop the baggage of the past and focus on his grandson instead.
The news of Yanyan's achievement had brought him genuine pride—something rare for a man like him.
"So, Yanyan delivered the welcome speech at the opening ceremony," Shen Zhaohui said, his smile softening. "That's quite impressive. How did you prepare for it?"
Yanyan straightened in his chair, his little hands fidgeting under the table. "I-I… my Papa helped me write the speech, and my Daddy taught me how to, um, say it properly."
Shen Zhaohui nodded, looking thoughtful. That thoughtful look made Shen Yuan's instincts flare like an alarm. He knew the kind of this man too well. Whenever Shen Zhaohui started "thinking," judgment was never far behind.
Before his father could open his mouth, Shen Yuan jumped in.
