CHAPTER 27: ARE YOU NERVOUS?

He would let them think that.

Because the moment anyone laid a finger on his daughter’s happiness, he’d remind them exactly who he was before he became a father.

Behind them, in the manor’s upper corridor, Xu Meilin stood before Grandfather Chi’s study door, trying to compose herself before knocking.

Her painted lips were tight, her pride wounded as she opened and closed her mouth, no word coming out from them.

Inside, the old man’s voice was cold. "You have failed."

Xu Meilin froze.

"I told you to persuade him," Grandfather Chi said slowly, "not to provoke the child."

"I— I didn’t mean to, she—"

"Enough." The old man waved his hand dismissively. "Leave it. The more you push, the more he’ll resist. Let him be. For now."

And though he said it with a sigh, deep down, even he knew, for the first time in a long while, that Yuanfeng’s defiance wasn’t something he could control anymore.

Not when it came to that little girl who looked at him as if he hung the stars.

***

A week passed in quiet warmth after returning from the Chi family manor.

The days at home slipped by in a soft blur of laughter, warm breakfasts, and bedtime stories under the golden lamplight.

Every morning began with Huaijin following her father around like a little tail, helping him find his keys, holding his sleeve while he packed his bag, or climbing onto his lap when he was trying to write notes for work.

It was as if she couldn’t stand to be apart from him for even a breath.

Her father, Chi Yuanfeng, although often busy with research and experiments, didn’t have the heart to push her away.

He simply sighed, scooped her up with one arm, and continued about his work as though carrying a soft, clingy kitten.

To anyone who saw them, the image was impossibly tender, her tiny fingers curled against his collar, her sleepy head resting on his shoulder, his calm gaze softening whenever she murmured something in her small, serious voice.

It was a simple life, but one filled with fragile happiness, one Chi Huaijin wished could last forever.

Yet, good things never lasted long.

That morning, the sun rose bright and clear, spilling golden light across their small apartment. The scent of toasted bread and warm milk filled the air.

Huaijin sat cross-legged on her chair, listlessly poking at her breakfast with a spoon.

She had dressed herself in her new school uniform, a crisp white blouse and a tiny pleated skirt, but her expression was anything but cheerful.

Yuanfeng set down his cup of coffee and leaned slightly forward, brow arched in amusement.

"What’s with that face, sweetheart?" he asked gently. "You look like someone just told you your toys were confiscated."

Huaijin didn’t answer immediately. Her little lips puffed out in a pout as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve.

"I don’t want to go to school..." she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Her father blinked in surprise. "Don’t want to? But didn’t you say you liked drawing and story time? You even begged me to buy that new set of color pencils last week."

"That was different," she huffed, crossing her tiny arms. Her tone, though childish, carried a strange maturity for someone her age. "I don’t want to leave you alone."

Yuanfeng chuckled softly. "Leave me alone? You make it sound like I’m the one who needs to be babysat."

But Huaijin didn’t smile. Her small fingers tightened on the edge of the table.

The memory of her last life flickered like a cold shadow in her heart, memories of losing everything, of loneliness, of death, of being powerless to protect the only family she had left.

She raised her big eyes toward her father, watery and filled with worry.

"Daddy... when I’m not home, you’ll be okay, right? You’ll eat properly? You won’t get bullied or... or scolded by Grandpa again?"

The words nearly made Yuanfeng choke on his own breath.

"Bullied?" he repeated incredulously. "Sweetheart, where did you even—"

But then he stopped. Seeing her serious little face, the man’s heart softened entirely.

He reached over, gently tapping her nose with his finger. "Don’t worry about me, Huaijin. Daddy’s not as weak as he looks."

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted with a smile that was firm but kind. "You’re my brave girl, aren’t you? The smartest, most capable little one in the whole school. You promised you’d show your teacher the picture you drew of the stars. Remember?"

Her lips trembled. She remembered. She also remembered the kids she’d see again, the ones who would one day grow up into the "main characters" of that world she’d once been trapped in.

The very people who had defined her miserable fate in her previous life.

She didn’t want to meet them again.

But her father’s warm gaze steadied her.

Huaijin swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod. "Okay... but you have to promise. You’ll come pick me up when school’s over!"

"I promise."

He extended his pinky finger solemnly. "Seal it with a pinky swear?"

Her face brightened faintly, the way the clouds break to reveal a patch of sky. She hooked her tiny finger around his. "Pinky swear!"

And just like that, the promise was sealed, between a father who would protect her with his life, and a daughter who carried the memory of another lifetime’s sorrow.

The ride to school was quiet.

Huaijin sat in the passenger seat, small hands gripping her backpack straps, her gaze fixed on the scenery rushing by outside the window.

The morning light filtered through the trees that lined the road, casting fleeting shadows over her face.

She could already feel the familiar unease gnawing at her chest.

The world outside was bright and lively, full of laughter and chatter, but to her, it was filled with invisible threads of fate she couldn’t quite escape.

"Are you nervous?" Yuanfeng asked suddenly, glancing at her from the driver’s seat.