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Mr. Lin praised, “Ah, true to being our relative and a man of great affairs, how could you care about gender, am I right?”

Slapping his thigh in annoyance, Mr. Lin went on, “I’m telling you, some people are different, their thinking is stubbornly old-fashioned, preferring sons over daughters, causing constant strife at home. If such a person were my relative, I’d cut ties in a heartbeat, saving myself the eyesore and annoyance. Luckily, you and I, Old Wen, aren’t like that, keeping everyone’s peace of mind.”

“Ahem, of course,” Wen Rendong echoed, “I know, you’re talking about Old Master Yin from the Yin family?”

Looking at him, Mr. Lin smiled and said, “Right, I’m talking about him. Tangtang’s mum was friends with Yin Zhen’s mum before she passed, and I really feel for that kid Yin Zhen. If an elder in my family dared to treat Tangtang that way, I’d have a falling out with them on the spot. My daughter is my treasure, you agree, don’t you?”

Wen Rendong seriously suspected that Lin Mingzhuo knew something, otherwise why would he keep asking for confirmation after every sentence?

“Right,” Wen Rendong nodded.

What else could he say to him anyway?

Not wanting a granddaughter equaled picking a fight with the Lin family, which was essentially pushing his son away.

In the end, forget about a grandson, he might lose his son too!

Wen Rendong silently pondered that it might not necessarily be a granddaughter; there was still a fifty percent chance for a grandson. Even if it was a girl, the couple was young, they got along well, so having another wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Just as this thought surfaced, Mr. Lin suddenly sighed, “Young people these days are different from our generation. Look at Zhaonan, he has no intention of having a second child. Raising one child well is better than anything else, don’t you think so too?”

Wen Rendong: “…” You must be the worm in my stomach.

When Gantang arrived home, she saw the two fathers sitting and chatting over tea in high spirits.

“Dad,” Gantang greeted as she entered.

Mr. Lin and Wen Rendong both set down their teacups and looked at her.

Gantang: “Er…” In this situation, how should she address them?

Yanqing led Gantang to the couch to sit down, then made himself at home by fetching a drink from the fridge, looking around, and asking, “Dad, do we have any room-temperature milk?”

Wen Rendong knew without looking that he was calling for Lin Mingzhuo.

“It’s… uh? Where did it go?” Mr. Lin promptly got up to look for it.

Watching his son and Mr. Lin talking and laughing as they headed to the kitchen, Yanqing attentively supporting Mr. Lin due to his injured foot, the two appearing close and familiar, as if more so than with a real father, Wen Rendong began to suspect that Lin Mingzhuo saw his son more often than he did.

He felt a sudden pang of jealousy.

He silently watched them.

Then, when Gantang noticed him staring, she also looked in the direction of his gaze.

What’s there? Why is he so fascinated, not even blinking?

Yanqing brought the milk over for Gantang to drink and then sat down beside her, with Mr. Lin naturally taking the nearest seat on the couch beside them.

Only Wen Rendong sat opposite them and noticed the chess manual he treasured, taken by Yanqing to give away, had been given to his father-in-law.

Wen Rendong: Continued heartache.

So a son could be this good to a father, too bad that person wasn’t him.

“In-law, since it’s rare that you come over, stay for dinner tonight and have a simple family meal with us, don’t mind,” Mr. Lin warmly said to Wen Rendong, “I’ll cook a couple of dishes myself today.”

“!” Gantang said, “Dad, you shouldn’t stand for too long with your foot injury, maybe next time?”

Yanqing immediately stood up, “Dad hasn’t had my cooking in a long time, don’t overdo it, I’ll do it instead.”

An oblivious Wen Rendong: They get along so well, understanding and caring for each other, envious.