"Uncle, let's go to the mountain to play with the little sheep!"
"Uncle, the little squirrel is so cute, let's help it make a nest."
"Uncle..."
Chen Ying sighed, realizing that thinking having a kid around was nice was definitely a moment of madness.
It's not that kids are bad; it's just he can't enjoy this kind of blessing.
The word "uncle" was like Sun Wukong's golden headband, almost driving him to the brink of collapse.
Luckily, right before the holiday, the little girl's parents came back to pick her up. Otherwise, Chen Ying was considering altering his plan to confess early and then make a run for it.
On December 30th, Chen Ying and Old Gao went out and only returned around seven or eight in the evening.
As they parked, they looked suspiciously sneaky, which amused the villa estate's staff. They turned around and reported this situation to Dao Meihua.
