Chapter 70 Dad, I want to return the gift to her in person!
He Zhimo walked closer, tiptoed, looked up and stared at the beautiful gift bag on the table for a moment, and couldn't help but pick it up.
Squatting on the ground, the little hands carefully untied the bow that tied the gift bag, and a hint of floral fragrance emanated from the opened gift bag.
He Zhimo carefully lowered his little face and sniffed from the tip of his nose to his lips, almost putting his head in.
Finally, I could faintly smell that extremely familiar, cool fragrance mixed in with the scent of flowers.
He Zhimo's big, hazy eyes froze slightly, and he bit the soft flesh of his mouth. He seemed to realize something quickly, and in a second he threw the gift bag to the ground and stood up with a cold face.
His calves were stretched straight, his shoulders were straight, and he turned his back to the gift bag that he had thrown to the ground. His hands clenched again and again, his eyes staring at the wall pattern in front of him, and his chest was heaving with anger.
However, He Zhimo only stood there for less than half a minute before he couldn't help but turn back awkwardly. He glanced coldly at the slightly tilted gift bag on the ground, pursed his lips, and turned his body away again.
He squatted down on his calves again, straightened the gift bag that was almost tilted, stared closely inside the opened gift bag, and stretched out his little hand to pry open the opening of the gift bag.
He just wanted to take a look at what was inside.
He Zhimo thought this indifferently as he took out the exquisitely wrapped box.
He Zhimo followed the cute step-by-step instructions painted on the box and opened the box layer by layer very carefully. With a click, the box opened.
A proud and majestic plush chick stands on a round tray.
The chick's proud neck mane is woven with his favorite bow tie style, and its two little wings are decorated with cream-colored lanyard rings.
This is a small plush pendant that can be directly fastened to the backpack.
He Zhimo lowered his little face and stared at the plush chick in unusual silence, tears gradually filling his eyes.
At this moment, there was a sound of approaching footsteps at the door. He Zhimo raised his little hand and rubbed his eyes hard, then hurriedly put the small plush pendant back into the gift bag.
Just then, He Cong knocked on the door and walked in. He saw He Zhimo standing by the table with red eyes, holding an already opened gift bag in his hands.
He Cong retracted his gaze and didn't ask anything immediately. He just walked to the youngest son's side, put his hand on He Zhimo's forehead and touched it for a moment before saying, "The fever is gone."
As soon as his father took his hand away, He Zhimo couldn't help but raise his head. He deliberately pretended to be nonchalant as he glanced at the gift in his arms and asked, "Dad, who gave this to you?"
"Shang Youqing."
He Cong's tone remained indifferent when he read out these three words, but he did not intend to hide it from his young son. He told him that Shang Youqing came here to give him a gift last night.
After listening to this, He Zhimo put the gift back on the table without saying a word, and put his hands behind his back coldly, "I don't want it!"
He Cong himself was still shrouded in a haze. At this moment, he didn't even have the energy to comfort his son. He replied lightly, "Then don't."
She said she would take He Zhimo downstairs for breakfast, but just as she extended her hand, He Zhimo's eyes turned red as he looked at the gift on the table, and he pursed his lips hard, as if he was not willing to give up at all.
"Liar! She waited until my birthday to give me a gift. I don't want her birthday gift! I don't want it at all!"
Like a little beast, he roared fiercely and took the gift he had just placed on the table back into his arms: "Dad, take me to find Shang Youqing now. I want to return the gift to her in person!"
He Cong: "She told you to throw it away if you don't want it."
He Zhimo was choked by these words and raised his head unhappily, but noticed that something seemed to be wrong with his father.
It should be said that Dad's facial expression has not changed since he came in, and he looks like he didn't sleep well.
He Zhimo finally shifted his focus from the gift in his arms, looked up with some concern, and asked, "Dad, what's wrong with you?"
He Cong naturally didn't say a word about what happened between him and Shang Youqing. He said, "It's okay," and glanced at the gift that the cub was holding tightly in his little hands. "Put the things away and go downstairs for breakfast."
He Zhimo hesitated for a moment, then carefully placed the gift in the safest place at the back of the table. Then, with a serious face, he said, "Dad, remember not to let anyone else touch this gift. I'm waiting to return it to Shang Youqing."
He Cong didn't even blink, "Yeah."
Even after going downstairs to the restaurant for dinner, He Zhimo kept looking back towards his room upstairs, as if he was afraid that his gift would disappear if he didn't pay attention.
Just as He Zhimo was absentmindedly biting his noodles, He Cong, who was sitting opposite him, had just received a three-page file from Yu Zhu.
While He Cong was having dinner with his young son, he took in all three pages of information on the tablet. After he had a thorough understanding of the Asian arms dealer named Mu in the information, he took out his mobile phone.
While calling Yu Zhu, he did not forget to personally serve He Zhimo a bowl of pear soup at the right temperature.
After the call was connected, He Cong sat back in his seat with a calm expression, put down the tablet beside him, and asked directly: "Did she call you last night to ask for the address of the villa?"
He Zhimo, who was originally drinking pear soup obediently in small sips, involuntarily slowed down his drinking when he heard the word "she". He pricked up his ears and almost held his breath to eavesdrop on the phone call going on across the table.
Yu Zhu on the other end of the phone called out "Mr. He", and then he froze after hearing this, not knowing how to respond.
Fortunately, He Cong quickly continued lightly, "She didn't mention you, and I don't mean to hold you accountable. Just tell me the truth."
He Cong's hand was casually placed on the side of the seat, and he was talking on the phone, his dark eyes still watching his young son across the table.
Seeing that He Zhimo had only taken a few sips of soup from the small bowl and then slowed down and stopped for some reason, he tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the table as a reminder. Only then did He Zhimo continue to hold the spoon and drink.
At the same time, Yu Zhu on the other end of the phone hesitated for a moment, and finally admitted, "Yes, President He... Miss Shang did call last night to ask for President He's address in Wencheng. I heard Miss Shang's tone was so urgent, so..."
He Cong's face was stern, but after hearing the word "urgent", he narrowed his eyes and raised his eyebrows slightly. He slowly withdrew his hand and said, "Give me her number."
After hanging up the phone, He Cong saved the number that Yu Zhu had just given him on the phone with an expressionless face.
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