The Bigshot Married Himself to the Heiress

Chapter 990 - 950: Naming the Baby_2

"Hello, Father-in-law, Mother-in-law."

George was very polite, greeting Adrian Desmond and them as soon as he came in, though it would have been better if he changed the way he addressed them.

Curly also learned from George to greet her parents and then started playing with her brother.

"Little Monster, did you miss me?" Curly stood by the baby stroller, teasing the baby.

The baby had just finished eating and was playing with his hands.

Sienna Johnson said, "Don’t call your brother Little Monster anymore. He’s reacting to that name now."

"Then let’s just call him Little Monster. After all, mom can’t think of another name."

"..."

"Little Monster, do you like your name?"

"..."

"Mom, look, Little Monster says he likes it; he just smiled. Haha... Little Monster, Little Monster, Little Monster..."

Sienna Johnson said, "Calling him Little Monster is worse than calling him Little Curly."

Curly’s smile froze, and she turned her head to ask, "Mom, don’t tell me I’m going to be renamed Big Curly?"

"Don’t listen to your mom!" Adrian Desmond said.

"No way! I’m Curly; he can’t take it." Curly protested vigorously.

"If you keep calling your brother Little Monster, I’ll call you Big Curly!"

"Humph!"

...

After coming out of her mother’s bedroom, Curly happily said, "George, did you notice? My brother doesn’t look like a little old man anymore."

"Your father-in-law and mother-in-law are so good-looking; there’s no way your brother could look ugly."

George carefully observed Curly’s expression. Despite Curly’s countless protests, she no longer reacted to him calling her parents "father-in-law" and "mother-in-law," which secretly delighted George.

"Yeah, I hope my brother grows up to be very handsome, like Nike."

"Do you dislike boys who are ugly?"

"I don’t like them!"

"Am I handsome?"

Curly had never really looked at George’s face; she only knew he was annoying and always pestered her, not wanting to see him, let alone notice what he looked like.

George stood there, allowing Curly to scrutinize him. He was confident in his looks. Back in Abyanabad, many girls liked him.

Curly looked at George and stuck out her tongue, "Ugly to death."

Hearing Curly say this, George wasn’t surprised. He smiled and said, "What kind of boys do you like? I can get plastic surgery to look like them.

Like Nike?"

"Plastic surgery?"

"Yes!" George looked at Curly very seriously.

"George, you better not say you’ll get plastic surgery."

"Why?"

"Because surgery might not make you more handsome; it might make you uglier. One of my mom’s classmates took my mom’s picture to Kandara for surgery, and it went wrong. Now her mouth is crooked, and it’s terrifying."

Curly looked at George, cupping his face, checking it this way and that, and said, "Actually, you’re okay... not very ugly."

"Then will you like me?"

Curly said irritably, "Stop asking me that question. I’m only five years old. I don’t know if I’ll like you in the future."

"Do you like me now?"

"No!" Curly answered straightforwardly.

"What will make you like me?"

"I don’t know."

The first meeting between the two was unpleasant. Although it was a long time ago, the grudging Curly’s first impression of George was still that he suddenly appeared and kissed her.

Perv!

"Curly, can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

"No!"

Curly looked at George and said meaningfully, "George, early love is not right. You’re so young; you can’t always be thinking about these things."

"Why is early love wrong?"

In Abyanabad, early marriages were common, with some getting engaged at just ten years old. Like Adrian Desmond, his marriage was arranged when he was too young to remember.

"Early love will..." Curly actually didn’t understand either. She just heard adults say early love was bad, but she didn’t know exactly how.

"..."

"Early love will stop you from growing tall." Curly gestured, "You’ll always be this short, and I’ll keep getting taller and taller..." Her hand moved upwards bit by bit, but eventually, she felt it wasn’t enough. Curly climbed up onto the stone table in the garden, looking down at George.

She patted his head, imitating the senior official on TV, "Little devil..."

"Don’t touch my head!" George dodged.

"Why?"

"If you touch my head, you have to marry me!"

Curly looked at her own hand, then vigorously wiped it on her school uniform skirt, awkwardly smiling,

"I didn’t know that’s a custom where you’re from. Don’t worry; I definitely won’t touch your head again."

Was this a roundabout rejection?

Curly nimbly hopped off the stone table, carried her backpack, and skipped away.

Realizing what happened, George called, "Curly, don’t go. I haven’t finished speaking."

"What is it?" Curly stopped and shouted.

George ran over, stood in front of Curly, with a serious and somewhat sad expression, "Did you know my grandpa has cancer?"

"I know, which is why you’re staying at my house."

"Then you surely don’t know that my grandpa refuses to have surgery."

"Why?"

"My grandpa is actually very afraid of seeing the doctor. In the past, he’d endure any illness, only going to see a doctor when he absolutely couldn’t hold on anymore..." The more George spoke, the sadder he became, until his eyes were red.

"Don’t be sad; your grandpa will definitely get better." Curly comforted.

"Yeah, we all tell grandpa that, but he stubbornly refuses to have the surgery."

"Then can’t we knock him out and take him to the operating room?" Curly said simply and bluntly.

"My grandpa is the patient, and he’s very seriously ill."