"And maybe so extra-sturdy shoes. We have a picnic to win!"
Huaijin laughed, a sound that was pure, uncomplicated six-year-old joy, montarily forgetting the headaches of Song Jue and the plotting of Xu ilin.
For now, her world was perfect: her father, their shared excitent, and the promise of a ridiculously happy day out.
Professor Yuanfeng, the humble, struggling scholar of theoretical physics, carefully checked the oil level on "The Rattler," his ancient, wheezing sedan.
The hood was propped open with a rusty pole, and the engine was currently emitting a sound best described as a distressed pigeon trapped inside a tin can.
In reality, Yuanfeng was the formidable, widely revered, and terrifyingly efficient ruler of a business empire whose reach spanned continents and industries.
His true identity was so heavily guarded that a public exposé would likely crash global stock markets.
The entire "poor scholar" routine, complete with the ramshackle car, the threadbare apartnt, and the constant, subtle requests for funding, was an elaborate, necessary farce.
It was exhausting maintaining the façade, but it was also a relief. Yuanfeng genuinely did possess a brilliant, restless mind that craved esoteric knowledge.
His interest in theoretical research and new inventions wasn’t a cover; it was his true passion. The ’research projects’ he constantly claid to be working on were, in fact, incredibly advanced, world-changing inventions that he funded entirely with his own secret, astronomical fortune.
Playing the role allowed him to indulge his intellectual curiosity while keeping his daughter, Huaijin, safe from the predatory nature of the corporate world.
"Ah, a resonance in the primary manifold. I should probably adjust the timing on the auxiliary coil," Yuanfeng muttered, happily tinkering with a loose wire that had absolutely nothing to do with physics and everything to do with keeping the car sounding authentically "poor."
Unfortunately, the Chi family patriarch, Grandpa Chi, had once again summoned Yuanfeng to the Manor to "settle so matters", a euphemism for the Chairman’s latest attempt to either cajole Yuanfeng into taking the CEO position or interrogate him about the market strategies of his secret, phantom competitors.
"Daddy, is the car going to explode this ti, or will it just cough sadly?" Huaijin asked, standing beside him in her small, neat dress, her arms crossed in a posture of resigned professionalism.
Yuanfeng straightened, dusting off his hands. "It will achieve a state of dignified, poverty-stricken locomotion, my little dragon. No explosions. I promise."
He sighed, pushing the hood down with a dull clunk. "We have to go back to the Manor today, sweetheart. Grandpa is insisting on a ’strategy debriefing,’ which ans I have to decline a promotion for two hours politely. Since you are too small to be left alone to dismantle the apartnt and rebuild it as a functional quantum computer, you have to co with ."
Huaijin’s eyes, normally sharp with adult awareness, lit up with a mischievous spark. "Oh, that’s good then, I can play with sister Ying!"
Yuanfeng then paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You know, Yuanying seed quite lonely when we saw her yesterday. Since you two get along well now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to bring her along too, once we arrive. It might alleviate so of the pressure elder brother puts on her."
Huaijin’s eyes widened with approval. She saw a crucial opportunity to reinforce her bond with the future villainess.
"Really, you’ll do that for , Daddy!! But if we’re going to the Manor, we must bring presents."
Huaijin’s idea of a present was never simple. For Huaijin, every gift was a carefully chosen, highly symbolic diplomatic tool.
"Presents?" Yuanfeng chuckled, opening the rattling driver’s door. "We’re the poor scholars, my dear. We can hardly afford a grand display."
"Precisely! We must choose gifts that are rich in thoughtfulness, but modest in cost," Huaijin declared, climbing into the passenger seat. "A true reflection of the struggling academic with exquisite taste!"
She began listing her requirents inside her mind with rapid-fire precision:
For Grandpa Chi, sothing that appeals to his ego, yet emphasizes your humility. A beautifully bound copy of a very old, very complex philosophy book. It costs little, but screams intellectual weight.
For Uncle Yuantian, sothing efficient and utterly boring would suffice. A new, high-end pen refill for his office. It shows we notice his busy schedule, but it is too mundane to be construed as a bribe.
A pair of matching, rare-edition comic books about a secret, super-smart hero would be perfect for those stiff, tsundere siblings.
Yuanfeng listened, utterly chard by her cuteness. He was delighted to play along, as the true cost of these items would be magically subsidized by his secret empire, ensuring they were indeed high-quality, just presented humbly.
Then ca the final, and most crucial, recipient:
"And, of course," Huaijin finished, her tone softening into dreamy, six-year-old adoration, "we must bring a present for Luo Ming."
The na Luo Ming, the Chi Manor’s young, impeccably amiable, and devastatingly handso butler, caused a tiny, almost imperceptible muscle near Yuanfeng’s jaw to twitch.
"Luo Ming," Yuanfeng repeated, his voice suddenly stiff. "Yes, the... for the butler?"
Luo Ming was around Yuanfeng’s age, maybe slightly younger.
He moved with a quiet, efficient grace that suggested an underlying competence far beyond his title. But what truly set Yuanfeng’s teeth on edge was the effect Luo Ming had on his daughter.
Huaijin, despite her intellectual maturity, had a very pronounced and very public weakness for handso and beautiful things.
She didn’t just like Luo Ming; she was utterly captivated by him. She found his gentle smile, his calm deanor, and his perfect manners irresistible.
"Luo Ming is so elegant, Daddy! He moves like a cloud, and his uniform is always so crisp! And his hair is shiny!" Huaijin sighed dramatically. "He’s the most beautiful person at the Manor. His presence is simply aesthetic excellence."
The praise, which was precisely the kind of extravagant flattery Yuanfeng usually loved receiving from his daughter, now felt like a tiny, barbed sting.
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