Picking up the child of a superstar he went to the baby variety show chapter 7

Jian Zhile’s heart was racing.

After completing the paternity test procedures, he walked out of the blood collection room. The morning sunlight streamed through the glass windows in the corridor. He stood by the window, watching people coming in and out of the hospital, holding hands and supporting each other. His pale side profile was serene, his dense eyelashes fluttered, and he sighed softly, the breath dispersing in the wind.

He knew the possibility was very slim, and he couldn’t remember ever having a child.

If it were true…

Then who could the child’s father be?

An An was sick and asleep at the moment. Jian Zhile suppressed his wandering thoughts, took out his phone from his pocket to check the time. It was a little past six in the morning. Since they were temporarily staying in the hospital, he needed to go out to get a change of clothes for the child.

As the largest hospital in the city, the street outside was bustling with people.

Jian Zhile borrowed a clean set of children’s clothes from the grandmother of his downstairs neighbor. Her grandson was about the same age as An An and was a warm-hearted person. On his way back, he saw a small stall selling sugar figures by the roadside. The stall owner seemed to notice his gaze.

The stall owner, an old man, smiled warmly and said, “Sir, do you want to buy a sugar figure for your child? They’re all homemade and very delicious!”

Since moving out to live alone, Jian Zhile hadn’t bought these things. He carried some ordinary hard candies for his hypoglycemia but had never eaten such delicate sugar figures.

The enthusiastic stall owner asked, “Do you need one? It’s only five yuan.”

Jian Zhile snapped out of his daze, nodded slightly, and said, “Yes, I’ll take two, please.”

The stall owner was delighted and asked, “What design do you want?”

These sugar figures were made on the spot using syrup. The old man was quite elderly, and his stall was a simple wooden setup, without even a QR code for payments, looking very rustic—an old craftsman making some extra money.

Jian Zhile remembered seeing a Superman on An An’s clothes when they first met. He tentatively asked, “Can you make a Superman design, like an Ultraman?”

The old man agreed readily, “Of course, my grandson loves them too.”

Jian Zhile smiled, feeling at ease, and stood by, holding his food bags, waiting.

Suddenly, a child’s figure appeared on the street not far away. He looked about four or five years old but was dressed very finely, clearly worth a lot at first glance. His hair was slightly curly, indicating he was likely mixed-race.

The boy came over and was attracted to the Superman figure the old man was drawing. He said, “What is this? I want one too.”

The old man replied, “Okay, little friend, you have to wait a bit.”

The boy seemed impatient and quite anxious.

Jian Zhile wasn’t in a hurry and said, “Let him have it first.”

The old man finished the sugar figure quickly and handed it to the boy, saying, “Here you go, little friend. That’ll be five yuan.”

The boy froze, his hand extended to take the sugar figure, but it stopped mid-air.

The old man looked at him curiously, “What’s wrong?”

Jian Zhile noticed a bit of embarrassment on the slightly arrogant boy’s face. But with his luxurious clothes and accessories, it was clear he wasn’t trying to get a freebie.

As expected.

After a moment’s hesitation, the boy shouted towards a luxurious yet understated black Bentley parked nearby, “Uncle!”

Jian Zhile also turned to look.

In the bright noon sunlight, the car door slowly opened, revealing a long leg first. A tall man in a tailored, immaculate suit stepped out, his movements languid. Though wearing sunglasses, his noble air was unmistakable. He casually shut the car door and walked over, exuding an authoritative and oppressive presence.

As he approached, the man glanced down at the little boy and lazily spoke, his voice tinged with weariness, “What’s up, little brat?”

Jian Zhile stiffened almost imperceptibly.

The curly-haired boy, holding the sugar figure, said, “Uncle, pay for me!”

The old man held up five fingers, smiling, “Five yuan.”

The man seemed slightly surprised, glanced at the sugar figure in his nephew’s hand but said nothing. He pulled out his wallet from his pocket. His slender, white hands were very attractive, and the black wallet exuded understated luxury. Soon, he handed over a hundred yuan bill.

The old man hesitated, “Sir, I don’t have enough change. Do you have smaller bills?”

The man replied in a low voice, “No, keep the change.”

The old man was a bit flustered, “How can I do that! This sugar figure is only five yuan, we can’t take advantage of you, even if it’s not expensive.”

Just as the situation was about to become tense, Jian Zhile handed the old man a twenty-yuan bill and said, “I’ll cover it for them.”