The following day, Jiang Jinghuai spent it clutching a dictionary. Whenever he settled on one name, he couldn't bear to let go of another. He wished every word in the dictionary could be his child, lined up dense and neat, like ants marching together—such a grand spectacle.
Tian Sangsang sat across from him, only able to see his brooding expression, completely unaware of his ridiculous thoughts at the moment. Ant processions? Why not call it a football team? Fathers and sons on the field, the whole family working as one.
Jiang Jinghuai's deep eyes flickered, and he resolutely threw the dictionary aside, resting his arms against his thighs:
"If it's a girl, we'll call her Jiang Qingtian; if it's a boy, Jiang Huan."
Then he raised his sharp brows and asked for her opinion.
Jiang Huan, Qingtian—Tian Sangsang thought it over and felt quite satisfied.
"But why not base it on Yanyan's name? Like Jiang Shu-X or something."
