This year for his birthday, Zhao Dafa didn't make a fuss; it was just a family meal at home.
When he was young and full of spirit, he loved the bustle and the chase after fame and fortune. Now that he was older, he had come to yearn for simplicity.
"Dad, happy birthday, may your fortune be as vast as the Eastern seas and your life as enduring as the Southern mountains."
"Thank you, Huanhuan!"
Zhao Dafa took the gift from his daughter with a chuckle and handed her a big red envelope in return.
"Thanks, Dad, mua~"
After planting a kiss on Zhao Dafa's face, Zhao Yihuan happily returned to her seat.
Shen Hongmei put down her three-year-old son, Zhao Cheng, from the high chair onto the floor, "Ruirui, go give Dad your birthday gift."
The little tyke obediently toddled over to Zhao Dafa, his short legs shaky, while repeatedly calling out, "Daddy, daddy."
Zhao Dafa couldn't stop grinning as he stood up and scooped his son into his arms.
