A Little Trick, the Scumbag Dad Can’t Hold the Knife After Understanding Love Chapter 226

Lu Jinghuai seed sowhat surprised.

He hadn’t expected Ji Nian to show him this, nor had he thought she would still have it.

The wooden box looked almost unchanged from seven years ago, even more polished and well-preserved, a clear sign that its current owner had taken good care of it.

"You’ve kept it well," he said softly, reaching out to trace the Lu Family emblem engraved on the lid.

"Of course. After all, it was a gift from you, and it’s so beautiful—I really love it."

Ji Nian smiled, carefully placing the music box on the table before settling onto the rug in front of the sofa. She patted the spot beside her, gesturing for Lu Jinghuai to join her.

"My dad said this belonged to royalty," she remarked.

"But why is the Lu Family emblem carved on the lid?"

Lu Jinghuai sat beside her, posture poised but not rigid like Gu Xiuyuan’s. His manners seed innate, as natural as breathing.

"It broke once. My mother admired the Lu Family emblem, so when it was repaired, she had it engraved."

This music box had been five-year-old Lu Jinghuai’s favorite toy. Whenever he was upset, he would carry it to the highest room in the castle, open the window, gaze at the distant lake, and lose himself in the enchanting lody.

But the music box was ancient and fragile. One night, the tiny fairy’s dance no longer had its accompanint.

At seven, Lu Jinghuai rediscovered his beloved childhood toy in his room. Fighting through the pain, he used his bandaged fingers to record the familiar piano lody from mory and sent it on a plane to China.

Back then, he had no grand intentions—he simply wanted Ji Nian to hear his favorite song and see the beautiful little fairy.

Even if she grew tired of it and tucked the music box away in so forgotten corner, that would have been fine.

"Sotis when I can’t sleep, I take it out and place it by my bed to listen to the piano music," Ji Nian admitted.

"But my dad says it’s older than the two of us combined—a grandma music box—so I don’t dare play with it too often."

"What’s the na of this song? I’ve tried searching for it forever but can’t find it."

So every ti she wanted to hear it, she had to open the music box.

"Lu Jinghuai?"

When he didn’t respond, Ji Nian called his na.

Finally, Lu Jinghuai stirred, lifting his gaze to et hers.

His silver-gray eyes seed even more striking than usual, shimring like rippling water.

"It’s called ‘Whispers of Love,’" he said.

Leaning forward, he deftly opened the music box.

Since it wasn’t yet dark, the fairy didn’t appear—only an empty stage rose.

But the piano lody played on, indulging its audience even without a dancer.

"Legend has it that one of my ancestors, while hunting, strayed deep into the forest," Lu Jinghuai began.

"There, he t the Fairy Queen."

Ji Nian raised an eyebrow.

Wow, a fairy-tale love story.

Lu Jinghuai had heard this tale countless tis and could recite it effortlessly.

"The king was so captivated by the Fairy Queen’s beauty that he offered to stay in the forest as her prisoner."

Mm-hmm, a simp.

"But the queen refused."

"She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍said she disliked his golden hair—claid it was yellower than her pee when she ate too much spicy food."

Ji Nian: "……"

Excuse ????

Lu Jinghuai’s expression remained serene, utterly unbothered by the crude word that clashed with his refined image.

"Humiliated, my ancestor left the forest heartbroken and returned to his castle. He commissioned this music box to immortalize the disgrace."

In fact, from then on, his criteria for choosing a queen shifted to pale blonde hair, gradually diluting the golden hue until most of the royal family now had light blonde hair.

Sotis, words just fail you.

Ji Nian opened and closed her mouth before finally managing, "…That Fairy Queen must’ve really loved spicy food, huh?"

Lu Jinghuai shook his head. "It’s just a legend."

[Though I’ve never heard one quite this bizarre…]

"But if the music box was made to rember humiliation, why is it called ‘Whispers of Love’?" Ji Nian suddenly wondered.

As the piano lody reached its final notes, Lu Jinghuai’s lips curved slightly.

"Because the king fell in love at first sight with the composer who wrote this song."

His tone was oddly detached as he said this, as though he didn’t quite believe it himself.

Ji Nian clicked her tongue. "Sounds like that king’s feelings were as reliable as diarrhea."

Lu Jinghuai looked puzzled.

"Just splattering wherever it pleases."

The mont the crude words left her mouth, Ji Nian clamped her lips shut and glanced at the little royal prince for his reaction.

To her surprise, Lu Jinghuai laughed—not the polite, restrained smile, but a genuine, teeth-showing, crescent-eyed delight.

"Yes, exactly," he agreed.

The king’s fleeting infatuation was as cheap as pebbles on the road. He married the composer in the na of love, only to cruelly cut open her belly the following year to retrieve their child for his new lover’s amusent, killing her in the process.

Ironically, the king t his end with his head stuck in a chamber pot, suffocated by his own urine.

Princess Feia despised this ancestor. Whenever she ntioned him, she would sneer and tell young Lu Jinghuai: Those who disrespect love will eventually be betrayed by their own waste.

Then she’d seize the mont to lecture him: If you don’t want to end up like him, you must be devoted to the one you love.

After the story, Ji Nian put the music box away just as a servant knocked, announcing that Ji Tingzhou had called them down for dinner.

The mont Ji Nian opened the door, her phone buzzed.

Zuo Yi had replied:

O-country number, disposable SIM card—already deactivated. Tracking the registration will take so ti.

Ji Nian mused that soone was being careful.

[Though… if I rember right, doesn’t Shen Qingtang’s aunt live in O-country?]

Noticing Ji Nian frozen at the door, staring at her phone, Lu Jinghuai asked considerately, "Trouble?"

Ji Nian suddenly looked up.

When it ca to O-country, who knew it better than Lu Jinghuai?

"Little Royal Prince, can you trace the owner of a deactivated SIM card?"

Hearing the nickna, Lu Jinghuai paused briefly but chose to address her question first.

"I can."

He worked swiftly. By dinnerti, he’d forwarded the traced information to Ji Nian.

Returning to the residence Lu Zhi had arranged for him in S City, his newly registered WeChat received a ssage from his first friend—Ji Nian:

You ho yet?

Thanks for today. Lunch is on tomorrow.

Lu Jinghuai replied with a sowhat unpracticed "Okay," then dug through the collection of stickers Ji Nian had taught him to save and sent over a 'puppy jumping and sending hearts.' Only then did he leisurely take off his slightly heavy backpack, unzip it, and pull out a photo fra, placing it in a spot where it would be imdiately visible upon entering.

The black fra, ticulously cleaned, held only half a photo.

In it, a green-eyed little girl—far more youthful than she was now—bead happily at the cara.