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

"This is aromatherapy, it helps with sleep. The medicine next to it should be injected into the forearm using a syringe on an empty stomach. It can temporarily alleviate Mr. Ji's condition."

Gu Xiuyuan pointed at the tube of dark, murky-looking medicine, following the instructions Ji Nian had sent over.

Bruce's mind buzzed in disbelief.

"W-what?"

Truthfully, even Gu Xiuyuan wasn't entirely sure what illness Ji Tingzhou had. The outside world only knew he was in poor health, but no one knew the specifics.

Even Shen Qingtang wasn't fully aware of Ji Tingzhou's condition.

Bruce asked many questions, but Gu Xiuyuan only said the medicine had been purchased from a supplier in Country O.

Due to his position, Bruce couldn't press further. After seeing Gu Xiuyuan out, he set aside the aromatherapy and examined the dark medicine, summoning his assistant to run tests.

Given the miraculous effects of the previous medicine, Bruce found himself inexplicably hopeful about this mysterious new concoction.

Against all logic, he was actually anticipating that this medicine would deliver the effects Gu Xiuyuan had described.

While Bruce was eating, his assistant rushed in, sweating profusely, panting as he handed over a report.

"Professor! Professor!! You have to see this!!"

Bruce's heart pounded as he took the report and quickly scanned it.

"How is this possible!?"

His blue eyes widened in shock.

"The person who invented this medicine is a genius… no, a mad genius!!!"

"Have the tests been run!?"

The assistant caught his breath and stammered, "They've… already begun."

Bruce had no appetite left. He sprinted straight to his lab.

A day later, after confirming no abnormalities in the test subjects, Bruce, his hands trembling, went to find Ji Tingzhou.

At this moment, he couldn't possibly imagine that a complete cure for Ji Tingzhou's condition would one day exist. Right now, just knowing there was a medicine that could suppress his symptoms was enough to thrill him.

Ji Tingzhou showed no reaction to Bruce's excited explanation.

First, he lacked the energy to speak. Second, he held no hope for it.

Good or bad, he didn't care either way.

Bruce knew Ji Tingzhou's mental state was severely compromised, so he didn't waste words. He simply began administering the injection.

After all, who knew if this man—who seemed half-dead—might suddenly lash out in the next second?

Miraculously, not long after the injection, the relentless, gnawing headache that had plagued Ji Tingzhou for years began to fade. There were none of the side effects that came with strong painkillers.

Instead, he felt an unfamiliar sense of peace.

It reminded Ji Tingzhou of the days when Shen Rushan, Zhiliao, and Da Gen were still alive—when the three of them, along with Wei Yang, had climbed mountains and lay under the stars at the summit.

Then the scene shifted abruptly. His perspective stretched, as if he'd grown taller, standing on an unfamiliar mountain with a far better view than the garbage dump hills. Beside him was a curly-haired child.

Ji Tingzhou couldn't make out the child's face, but he heard a soft, sweet voice calling him "Daddy" with unmistakable affection.

She tugged at his sleeve, whining to be picked up.

Ji Tingzhou's instinct was to push her away, but the version of himself in this dream didn't do that. Instead, he heard his own voice sigh in mock exasperation, "You're such a handful."

Then, against all expectations, he bent down and scooped up the tiny creature barely bigger than a puddle.

Ji Tingzhou: ?

"Daddy, look! Those stars—don't they look like you when they're connected?"

Ji Tingzhou heard his own voice reply, "How? Are you going cross-eyed at your age?"

The little one pouted. "Then what do you think they look like?"

"Wei Yang's butt."

"WHAT!? Bro, you can't say that!! Since when does my butt look like that!?"

Wei Yang, who had been silent until now, immediately protested from behind them.

The scene shifted again. Ji Tingzhou turned, still holding the child, and saw Wei Yang sulking.

That face—so achingly familiar.

A mountain of a man, full of vitality, with a mouth that never stopped running.

And beside him, the woman he still sometimes called out for in his delirium—Zhiliao, who had been gone for some time now.

"Keep it down. You're echoing."

Zhiliao tossed a piece of candy into Wei Yang's mouth, shutting him up instantly. He even wheedled for another, then handed it to the child in Ji Tingzhou's arms with an exaggeratedly fawning expression.

"Here, Ji Nian can have one too."

Hearing that name, Ji Tingzhou was stunned.

Ji… Nian?

It was familiar, yet he couldn't place it.

Before he could think further, his dream-self spoke again: "Don't give her too much sugar. If she gets cavities, I'll pull your teeth out."

A brutal threat—exactly the kind he'd say.

But the undisguised affection in it felt utterly foreign to him.

The dream didn't end there.

It showed him absurd scenes that made him frown.

For instance, his daughter wasn't Shen Qingtang, but a curly-haired brat named Ji Nian—a child who constantly talked about poop, bickered with him, proudly showed off her weirdly shaped bowel movements, and wiped her snot on his shoes when she had a cold. Absolutely insufferable.

Yet every time Ji Tingzhou felt himself about to lose his temper, the body he inhabited in the dream only pretended to scold her, doting on the little menace without any semblance of discipline.

Ji Tingzhou wanted to shake himself and demand: Have you lost your damn mind?

The curly-haired demon was infuriating, but she was also a genius with extraordinary talents and countless secrets.

She was… miraculous.

She solved Ji Tingzhou's chronic insomnia. At five, she saved Wei Yang from a near-fatal poisoning. Later, she rescued Lu Zhi's only son, exposed the mastermind behind the attacks on Ji Tingzhou, and even cleared up the misunderstandings between them.

Not long after Ji Tingzhou's first major episode, she single-handedly bargained with an enemy who claimed to be his son, securing vials of medicine to ease his symptoms—then cured him herself. At seventeen, she goofed her way into saving Zhiliao and won over a group of assassins who should have been enemies.

She even saved Ms. Li from an assassination that should have killed her.

All the people and things Ji Tingzhou had lost—those memories that had long blurred—were preserved because of this little girl named Ji Nian.

It ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‍was as if the heavens had taken pity and sent her down as a savior.

With these complicated emotions weighing on him, Ji Tingzhou slowly opened his eyes.

The scent of the aromatherapy in the room made him feel as if he were still trapped in the dream.

In that world, this was the fragrance that lulled him to sleep every night.

Ji Tingzhou sat up abruptly.

He waited, bracing for the usual symptoms.

But—nothing.

No headache.

He lifted his gaze, scanning the dim bedroom.

No hallucinations either.

Nothing at all.

Resting his forehead in his hand, he exhaled slowly.

Though it felt like he'd lived an entire lifetime in that dream, Ji Tingzhou didn't feel like he was the Ji Tingzhou from it.

Those experiences didn't belong to him.

It felt as if he had just watched a movie where the protagonist wore his own face.

The lingering fragrance filled the air, and he wondered—was he still not awake? Why hadn't the scent faded yet?

A sudden unease gripped him. His gaze sharpened as he snapped his head up, scanning the cabinet beside him.

There it was: a lotus-shaped incense burner, its flame flickering, releasing a delicate, haunting aroma.

Just like in the dream.