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

"When I get what I need, I'll make you a laxative as thanks for today's meal," Ji Nian said casually as she left.

Gu Xiuyuan's temple twitched.

"How on earth did the version of me from that world put up with you?"

Ji Nian thought it wasn't so much "putting up" with her—after all, Brother Niu had been used to her since childhood.

...

After parting ways with Ji Nian, Gu Xiuyuan went to the Ji family home.

Shen Qingtang's nanny, hearing of his arrival, greeted him warmly.

Since Zhi Le's passing, though she wasn't involved in major affairs, she had taken charge of most minor matters.

"Young Master Gu, here to see our Tangtang again? It's so cold today, and you're dressed so lightly. Why not stay for dinner? I'll make you some soup myself," the nanny said with a smile, her tone almost maternal.

Gu Xiuyuan nodded politely but didn't respond to her suggestion.

Truthfully, if it weren't for the fact that she had raised Shen Qingtang, he wouldn't have bothered being civil.

He had an instinctive dislike for people who wore their ambitions so openly and overstepped their place.

"Ah Yuan!"

Shen Qingtang, delighted to see him, waved him into her room.

"What are you watching?"

Noticing her good spirits—happier than usual, even—Gu Xiuyuan felt his own mood soften.

"This! A friend gave it to me," Shen Qingtang pointed at the projection on the wall.

Gu Xiuyuan glanced at it. "A cartoon? You like this?" Then he caught the key word. "Friend? Which friend?"

Shen Qingtang hesitated.

He knew all her friends.

Normally, Gu Xiuyuan would have pressed for details and later interrogated the person himself.

Perhaps due to his father's strict upbringing, his need for control was intense—sometimes even Shen Qingtang found it intimidating.

But this time, after she mumbled a name, Gu Xiuyuan simply said, "Oh," and let it go.

His gaze lingered on the cartoon character in a lab coat stirring something, reminding him of what Ji Nian had said earlier:

'In winter, after playing in the snow, we'd wrap ourselves in blankets with hot drinks from Zhi Le and watch Doctor Marvelous—oh, you wouldn't know it yet. It's a cartoon, your and Shen Qingtang's favorite as kids.'

"Doctor Marvelous," he suddenly murmured.

Shen Qingtang looked surprised. Her rigid boyfriend watching cartoons?

"Do you... want to watch it together?" she asked hopefully.

Even more unexpectedly, Gu Xiuyuan walked over and sat beside her, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Sure."

...

Ji Tingzhou bent down slowly, picking up the bouquet of white flowers—now wilted after a day under the scorching sun—from Da Gen's grave.

Though the medication couldn't fully suppress the bloody hallucinations, he had long grown accustomed to ignoring the whispers that tried to provoke him.

Someone ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‍had been here...

And of all flowers, they'd left erigeron annuus—the kind Da Gen loved to pee on when he was alive.

Unbidden, he recalled Wei Yang's muttered word that morning:

Ji Lian.

Ji Tingzhou took a deep breath, trying to piece together why his instincts screamed that these things were connected. But as his lips parted, all that came out was a mouthful of crimson blood, staining the delicate white petals.

"......"

Gasping, he collapsed to his knees, veins bulging on his hands as he endured the metallic taste flooding his mouth. His thoughts scattered, his focus shattered, and fury erupted like a volcano.

"Damn it."

When he finally regained his senses, he pulled his bloodied, bruised fist away from the gravestone he'd been pounding relentlessly.

Ji Tingzhou panted, indifferently wiping his injured hand.

"Good thing I didn't have the strength. If I'd broken it, you'd haunt my dreams to scold me."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Correction—no sleep, no dreams."

Leaning his forehead against the cold stone, he thought of what the doctor had said.

When will this end?

Might as well become a vegetable.

...

"Hello, sir. Please take me to this address."

With the money borrowed from Gu Xiuyuan exchanged for O-currency, Ji Nian hailed a taxi right outside the airport.

Hearing the destination, the driver eyed her curiously in the rearview mirror. Her face was hidden behind a mask and hat, so he asked where she was from.

At "China," the man fell silent, ending all conversation.

The system, having regained some energy, no longer crackled but still sounded weak as it explained:

[Years ago, Lu Jinghuai was killed in China. After Princess Feiya ascended as queen, relations between the two countries remained strained—nothing like the friendship in your world...]

Historically, O-country and China had never gotten along. In Ji Nian's world, it was Princess Feiya's marriage to Chinese businessman Lu Zhi and their mixed-race child that began mending ties, culminating in a golden era by the time Ji Nian grew up.

Though melancholy, the silence gave her time to plan how to meet her target.

The car radio droned about Queen Feya's recent policies.

Ji Nian listened, lost in thought, until the ride ended with the driver muttering, "Please don't let there be war..."

She looked up at the familiar building.

Guards at the gate scrutinized her with suspicion.

"I'm from the Ji family. I need to see Patriarch Lu on urgent business," she said.

"No prior notice. You can't enter," one snapped, not even offering to announce her.

Just as she'd guessed—the families had likely cut ties.

Unfazed, Ji Nian continued, "I can help your young master. Still not letting me in?"

The guard's expression shifted.

Most outsiders believed Lu Jinghuai had died years ago. Only insiders knew the truth: whatever remained of the young master was barely clinging to life.

Ji Nian was finally admitted.

As the car reached the main estate, she instinctively glanced upward upon entering—though of course, the embarrassing childhood portrait of her as a proud chick wouldn't be there.

Thirty minutes later, a far more haggard and icy version of Lu Zhi appeared before her.

"You're not from the Ji family. How do you know about my son?"

His voice carried a lethal calm as he studied her covered face.

Ji Nian reached up and slowly removed her hat and mask.

Lu Zhi didn't flinch at the sight of her horrifically scarred features.

But when he caught sight of the other side of her face—unblemished and whole—his expression shifted subtly.

"You..."

If not for the discrepancy in age, Lu Zhi might have mistaken Ji Tingzhou for a woman standing before him in disguise.