Alia Garcia’s first day on a business trip, Ethan, Hope, and Noah ca directly to Imperial Garden after school.
Christopher Hart lay in bed and vaguely heard the children’s laughter from downstairs, eagerly anticipating their arrival.
This day, he saw Aunt Harper, the butler; Fuller, his personal bodyguard; and the carer who looked after his als and daily life—yet he still hadn’t seen the children.
Though he was confident with the looks he and Alia shared, the kids were sure to be adorable; he remained curious about whether they resembled their mother or father more.
Besides, knowing you have three children is one thing, but actually seeing them is quite another.
The clamor grew closer; evidently, the children were coming upstairs. They ran, their footsteps thumping on the wooden floor of the corridor, creating quite a racket.
The door swung open, hitting the wall, and suddenly the children’s voices were right by his side.
"Daddy! Hope is here to keep you company!"
"Daddy, the lion’s head atballs at the kindergarten were so yummy today at lunch. Can our chef make them?"
"I’ve told you, our chef can make anything!"
"But he has to make them as tasty as the ones at kindergarten!"
"They will definitely be tastier than the ones at kindergarten!"
Returning to Imperial Garden, Hope exuded the aura of a little host, speaking more and with greater confidence, a sense of superiority in her words.
Christopher Hart, as usual, looked towards the source of the voices.
However, today, his eyes held traces of excitent and eagerness.
His daughter’s features were delicate and graceful, a spitting image of Alia as a child.
The son who dashed in first, who couldn’t stop talking about food, must be the food-loving second child, Ethan—rough and tumble, a big boy, his features a blend of both his parents. In any case, he was handso.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his oldest son, standing at the back. He furrowed his brows tenderly like a loving father, "Where’s your brother? Why isn’t he speaking?"
Noah then spoke, "Daddy..."
"What’s wrong, aren’t you happy?" He looked at his eldest son, asking softly—this boy most resembled him, with deep-set eyes and a prominent nose, even the calm and steady deanor was exactly like his.
Benny Palr had said before that he had seen the boy several tis but failed to recognize him or suspect anything.
Christopher Hart found it incredible—was he that oblivious before?
If he could rember the past, he would feel even more regret and embarrassnt.
He wasn’t just oblivious; he had once told his precious daughter in front of this eldest son at an amusent park, "You hear that? His daddy’s a dummy. He’s earning money to pay for his daddy’s dical bills."
Amnesia was clearly not a good thing, but for Mr. Hart at that mont, it was definitely a blessing.
Noah, feeling his father’s concern, stepped forward, his handso face filled with worry, "Nothing much, I just miss Mom. She’s alone and away from us—she must miss us too."
As expected, the eldest son was mature beyond his years, always caring.
His words imdiately brought his younger brother and sister into the shared longing for their mother.
"I miss Mom too."
"Daddy, let’s call Mom."
"But Mom said there’s a ti difference between Zurich and here! Could Mom be sleeping?"
"What’s a ti difference?"
Ethan and Hope continued to chat back and forth, while Noah quietly made a phone call on the side.
During the wait for the call to connect, he looked at his younger siblings with disdain, "You guys are so clueless. Zurich is seven hours behind us; it’s only noon there."
Christopher Hart was inwardly shocked—his eldest son was so smart? To know about ti differences at such a young age!
He didn’t know that this son was also a computer genius.
He had helped his mother conceal her identity in the past and had contributed his fair share of effort.
The phone echoed with a series of "beeps," and after a while, no one answered.
"Mom didn’t pick up..." The little guy sounded a bit dejected, and worry for his mother began to creep in.
Christopher Hart reassured them, "She just got off a long flight; she might be busy after landing. Once she’s settled, she’ll call us back."
Aunt Harper ca in, carrying snacks and a fruit platter, "Sweethearts, have sothing to eat first. We’ll go down for dinner shortly."
Despite the afternoon tea at kindergarten, they were missing out on snacks, and the children were indeed hungry. They eagerly began to eat.
A green grape rolled to the floor, and Hope picked it up. Her dainty brows furrowed slightly, and she turned to the figure on the bed, "Daddy, have so fruit!"
Without waiting for a response, she stuffed the grape into her father’s mouth.
Christopher Hart was instantly taken aback!
They say a daughter is a warm scarf, but this scarf... had holes in it!
Ethan witnessed the whole thing, his eyes slightly widening, "Sis, why would you..."
"Eat your cookie!" Before he could finish his sentence, Hope shoved a cookie into her big brother’s mouth.
However, clearly knowing she had done sothing wrong, she took another cookie as a form of "atonent" and offered it, "Daddy, have a biscuit."
Noah looked on at all this, his expression a bit... bewildered.
"Daddy, when will your eyes get better?" Noah asked worriedly.
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His little sister was so cunning, and he and his little brother couldn’t bust her, or she would definitely get mad and ignore them.
But their dad was blind, to be teased like that by little sister was also... quite pitiable.
So, they could only pray for Dad’s eyes to get better soon.
Christopher hadn’t expected his eldest son to suddenly ask about this, and his heart skipped a beat, worrying his son had spotted a flaw.
"Well... Dad doesn’t know either, maybe very soon," he answered.
Noah leaned in closer, waving a hand in front of Christopher’s eyes, "Dad, can you not see even a little bit of light?"
"Mmm... but I could feel your hand moving in front of my eyes just now because there was wind."
"Oh..."
Ethan listened to the conversation between his brother and dad while eating, and said sympathetically, "Dad is so pitiful, we are so cute, and Dad can’t see us."
Over at Hope’s side, she had rolled a Chinese date away again. She picked it up, about to skillfully feed it to Dad, but Ethan stopped her.
"Give it to . You know what they say, ’what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’"
Hope watched her second brother snatch the date and bite into it and was stunned for a second, then innocently said, "But before... if sothing fell on the floor, Dad would eat it..."
Christopher: "..."
No wonder the little girl was so adept at feeding him—it turns out he was a human trash bin!
"Seems like Dad used to spoil you a lot," was all he could offer.
"Yeah! Dad’s the person in this world who loves the most, but now there’s Mom too, and she loves the most as well."
Although Christopher had no recollection of the past, he still felt a bit "jealous" upon hearing this.
They said this girl was raised by him playing both parent roles, with great difficulty.
Shouldn’t Dad be the first in her heart?
From her perspective, it seed like Mom was about to take the lead?
"Hope, between Dad and Mom, who loves you more?"
Hope hopped to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs, and thought seriously, "Hmm... they both love the sa."
Christopher laughed. Pretty clever, little trickster—quite the diplomat.
Suddenly, the phone rang on the table, startling Noah, "It must be Mom calling!" He imdiately answered, "Hello, Mom!"
"Kid, I’m not your mom. I’m your Uncle Palr," Benny Palr said with a laugh on the other end.
Noah had made a blunder and looked sowhat embarrassed, promptly handing the cordless phone to the person lying on the bed: "Dad, it’s that Uncle Palr."
Christopher was enjoying the bliss of his children’s company, and taking the receiver, he was clearly displeased, "What is it this ti?"
"Nothing much. Lucas King and I just left the company, planning to swing by Imperial Garden for a al, just letting you know."
"You don’t have money for food?"
"Of course, I do! But, you know... it’s about fulfilling a request, doing a loyal service."
"What do you an?"
Benny dragged out his words, "Soone called yesterday, telling to... check in on you these next few days when I’m free, afraid you’ll get irritable and unpredictable. Aunt Harper and others might not be able to handle you if you kick up a fuss."
Mr. Hart caught the implication, the chill on his face thawing a bit, and with a mix of surprise and delight, he asked, "Alia specifically called you to remind you of this?"
"What else do you think? You think I enjoy offering my warm face only for your cold ass to turn away?"
Thinking of how much Alia cared and was concerned about him, Mr. Hart felt rather satisfied. Then, thinking of how he’d like to see his close friend and his personal assistant once he could see again, he relented, "Then co on over."
"Tsk," Young Master Palr was extrely dissatisfied and hung up the phone.
With guests coming, Christopher asked the caregiver to help him up with Fuller, to sit in a wheelchair and go downstairs.
At alti, Benny Palr and Lucas King arrived just in ti.
His mory was stuck at his teenage years, but Benny’s face had matured significantly.
That special assistant nad Lucas King was polite and slender, looking very smart and efficient.
"Oh, you ca down to dine with us personally?" Seeing Christopher, Benny teased, "Seems like using Alia’s na gets a different level of treatnt."
Christopher’s face clouded over at these words: "What do you an? Isn’t she the one who told you to visit ?"
Benny looked at his reaction, purposely asked, "If I say it wasn’t her, would you kick us out right away?"
"..." Christopher didn’t respond, but his mood dropped in an instant, his face turning stiff.
"Alright, just kidding. Alia did tell to check on you. If you don’t believe , you can call her yourself."
Realizing he had been played, Christopher gave a snort of "nonsense" and called the children to sit down for dinner.
Benny had actually co over because there was official business to discuss. Christopher barely showed any interest, offering only occasional suggestions.
After the al was over, when he was preparing to issue the guests their leave, Lucas looked at him and spoke softly, "President Hart, there’s sothing... although you don’t rember it, I think... I still need to ask for your opinion."
"Official business?"
"No, personal. You had take care of it before the accident."
Seeing Christopher wait in silence, Lucas continued, "It’s about the ti you asked to find a writer. You t with her and told her the story of you and your wife, asking her to turn it into a novel—now, that novel is still being serialized, it’s beco popular, the wife knows about it and wants the author to take down the novel, but the author hasn’t agreed..."
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