Chapter 22: “Hello, I’m Xiao Chu’s Dad.”…

Chapter 22: "Hello, I'm Xiao Chu's Dad..."

The downside of living in a villa was its sheer size—two floors and a small yard. Cleaning alone took two full days. After that, Song Tan added some small touches, turning both the yard and the house a festive red. Song Chuqing and Aqi were overjoyed, running around wildly.

They had arranged to have dinner with Song Zongbo and Qi Yingchang on New Year's Eve afternoon. Unsure of the little girl's appetite, and knowing she herself wouldn’t eat much, Song Tan had prepared a full spread of New Year's dishes just in case, ensuring enough for both mother and daughter.

She woke up early to prep ingredients, getting everything that needed marinating or slow-cooking ready. All that was left was to finish cooking after they returned from the meal.

Song Chuqing knew they were going out to meet someone today and who it was. Song Tan wasn’t sure how to explain their relationship, so she simply said they were her mom and dad, but they had been separated for a long time and didn’t see each other often.

The little girl thought for a moment and said, "So, Mom, you and your parents aren’t close."

Well... she wasn't wrong.

They left at three and arrived at the restaurant by half past three.

After getting out of the car, Song Tan crouched down to straighten her daughter’s outfit and said in advance, "Xiao Chu, don’t be nervous. Mommy's right here with you."

Song Chuqing replied, "I’m not nervous." If anyone was nervous, it was Mom—she hadn’t even heard her calling twice when the car stopped.

Song Tan paused, then smiled and cupped her little face. "Yes, our Xiao Chu is the bravest."

Song Chuqing took her hand. "Mom, let’s go."

The restaurant was Song Zongbo’s choice, a famous spot in the city for New Year’s Eve dinners.

Most of the guests today were families who didn’t want to cook at home, but since it was still afternoon, it wasn't too crowded yet.

Song Tan held her daughter's hand as they entered the private room, where Song Zongbo was already waiting. He stood up when he saw them. "You’re here."

He then came over to greet Song Chuqing, who knew how to address him properly. "Hello, Grandpa."

Song Zongbo was surprised but delighted, his face lighting up. "Ah, hello, hello! What’s your name?"

"My name is Song Chuqing. You can call me Xiao Chu."

"Wonderful! Xiao Chu it is then."

Song Tan took off her scarf and coat and hung them aside. When she turned back, Song Zongbo had already led the child to sit beside him.

She watched them but didn't interfere.

"Have you ordered yet?"

"Yes, we'll order as soon as your mom gets here."

Song Tan stayed quiet, so Song Zongbo turned his attention to the child, asking all the standard questions: how old she was, which kindergarten she attended, what she liked to play with.

Song Chuqing answered each one.

After a while, Song Zongbo looked up and suddenly said, "You've lost weight."

Song Tan smiled. "Just work stress."

Thinking it might be the costs of raising a child, Song Zongbo said, "If you’re under pressure, you can talk to me. I've got some money set aside and can help take care of the child."

"That's not necessary."

Song Zongbo knew his daughter’s stubbornness and that she still remembered him taking back her house years ago. He didn’t bring up money again. "Tantan, who's Xiao Chu's father? If possible, he could come meet us."

Song Tan didn’t respond, so Song Zongbo pressed on, serious now. "What's his family like? Is he a good person? Is he dependable? Does he treat our Xiao Chu right?"

Song Chuqing had been listening and glancing between her mom and grandpa. Seeing her mom’s smile fade, she chimed in, "Grandpa, my dad is very good. He treats me well too."

Song Zongbo laughed awkwardly. "That's good to hear."

After a pause, Song Tan spoke, her tone calm but softer. "You don't need to worry about Xiao Chu's father."

Maybe it was the kindness that softened her, and Song Tan was no exception.

After her parents’ divorce, Song Zongbo had been more involved in her life. When her grandparents were alive, he made sure she visited them regularly. Before his company went bankrupt, he never missed sending her monthly living expenses. He hadn’t given her much paternal love, but he'd never neglected his duties—at least, not before she turned 18.

Looking back now, Song Tan realized her resentment stemmed from the fact that another daughter had received the love she should have had. He’d given all his paternal affection to her.

She couldn’t let go completely, but the old hatred had faded over time. Maybe it was because her life had taken a new direction, and the things that once trapped her could now be released.

As she lost herself in thought, the door to the private room swung open. Qi Yingchang entered first, and, unexpectedly, Xue Wanwan trailing behind.

Song Tan lowered her head and smiled, unsure whether she felt sad or just resigned.

They'd specifically agreed it would just be the three of them. Qi Yingchang knew full well that Song Tan and Xue Wanwan had never gotten along, yet she’d brought her along anyway.

Whether as a mother or not, Song Tan’s opinion was consistent: compared to Song Zongbo, Qi Yingchang had failed as a mother.

After the divorce, Qi Yingchang remarried quickly. Beautiful as she was, she wed a small business owner and devoted herself completely to her new family, completely neglecting the daughter she’d raised for seven or eight years.

Things never got better. They’d contact each other every two or three months, or even half a year. That winter when her grandparents passed away one after another, Song Tan called her—no answer. After three or four attempts, Qi Yingchang finally picked up, saying Xue Wanwan had just finished piano lessons and was very busy, then asked what was wrong.

Song Tan’s heart turned to stone. She hung up.

Then came her success.

The room instantly felt too small. Song Zongbo greeted them warmly, including Xue Wanwan in his warm welcome.

As the mother-daughter pair took their seats, Xue Wanwan offered a sugary smile. "Sister Tan, is this your little niece?"

Song Chuqing hadn’t learned such complex kinship terms yet, but she figured they must be family. She was about to respond when she caught her mom's unhappy expression, so she stayed quiet.

Song Tan's mood had indeed darkened, pasting on a smile. "Xiao Chu, say hello to Grandma and Aunt Xue."

"Hello, Grandma. Hello, Aunt Xue."

"Hello, Xiao Chu." Xue Wanwan didn’t mind being called "aunt" and scrutinized the little girl. The resemblance to her mother was uncanny.

Earlier that afternoon, Qi Yingchang had mentioned going out. Xue Wanwan had asked where and, upon hearing the answer, insisted on coming along for 'fun'. She’d been cooped up at home for days during the holidays and was climbing the walls.

She disliked Song Tan—disliked how easily she got everything Xue Wanwan wanted, her constant air of superiority, disliked everything about her.

She’d come to see what kind of scene would unfold today for a daughter neither parent wanted.

Xue Wanwan sat back calmly, settling in to watch the drama unfold.

Qi Yingchang also knew her relationship with Song Tan had always been strained. Aware that her eldest daughter harbored resentment, she could only try to get closer through the child now. "How old is Xiao Chu this year?"

Song Chuqing pouted. Why did everyone keep asking her that? She answered again, "Four."

"Which kindergarten do you go to?"

Before she could reply, Song Tan interjected. "Let’s eat first. I’m hungry."

"Fine, fine, let's eat."

As the dishes were served, Xue Wanwan volunteered, "Mom, you like these shrimp, right? Help yourself to more." Whether intentional or not, she casually added, "Did you prepare shrimp for dinner? Dad likes them too."

"Of course, of course, how could I forget that?"

Xue Wanwan: "He always finds it troublesome and only eats peeled shrimp."

"Takes after you, huh? Both so fussy."

The mother and daughter chatted like they were the only ones there, making even Song Zongbo looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat softly.

Qi Yingchang seemed to realize the situation and served Song Chuqing, beginning with a serving of vegetables.

Song Tan looked down at her daughter's unhappy face and quietly picked the greens out of her bowl, saying calmly, "She doesn’t like vegetables."

Qi Yingchang frowned. "How can she not eat greens? She’s a growing girl!"

Song Tan: "She eats tons of fruit daily, and I make sure she gets all the necessary nutrients. No need to fuss."

"Vitamin pills? Come on, Tantan, you can’t spoil her like this. The more you indulge her, the pickier she’ll—"

"Mom," Song Tan interrupted softly.

Back before the divorce when Song Tan was seven, Qi Yingchang hadn’t been a good mother. She had a job as a department store clerk, always dolled up when she left, either working late or dining with colleagues. They barely had family meals more than two or three times a week.

She never walked Song Tan to school or picked her up. Back then, Song Tan didn’t understand and would proudly tell others how beautiful her mother was and how she brought her treats—only to later realize they were clearance or about-to-expire stuff from the store.

She never knew what Song Tan liked to eat, never helped with homework, never played with her or tucked her in. They might as well have been strangers.

Song Tan looked up and said slowly, "Pretty sure I’ve got more experience than you when it comes to raising a daughter."

Things got awkward. Song Zongbo jumped in to smooth things over, "Yes, Xiao Chu spends most of her time with Tantan. She knows what her daughter likes and doesn’t like."

Qi Yingchang gave him a look and fell silent.

Xue Wanwan seemed entertained and remarked leisurely, "Mom, don’t worry. From what I see, my brother-in-law’s doing well. Xiao Chu is eating well and dressed nice."

Her character as the female lead’s friend in *The Great Dream* was minor, only showing up briefly in a subplot with less than twenty minutes of screen time. Xue Wanwan hated being second banana, but the movie’s top-notch production guaranteed future success, so she bit the bullet and took it.

Her scenes hadn’t been shot yet and were scheduled after the New Year.

But she stayed plugged into all the gossip about the production. When Song Tan got caught meeting some guy and it made headlines, she specifically asked around and found out it was the kid’s dad.

A dad rolling in a Rolls.

Xue Wanwan knew right away: *Sugar daddy alert.*

Probably some slobby, pot-bellied sugar daddy, too—otherwise, why’s he kept under wraps?

Qi Yingchang, couldn’t resist asking, "Why didn’t Xiao Chu’s father come?"

Song Zongbo interjected, "He had stuff going on. Let’s not worry about it and just eat."

"What’s so important on New Year’s Eve? Unless we’re being dodged." Qi Yingchang pressed further, "Tantan, what’s really going on? Xiao Chu’s father—"

Song Tan met her mother’s gaze, catching the judgment in her eyes as if she’d done something shameful—just like every time Qi Yingchang called to say, *The entertainment industry is so corrupt.*

It exhausted her, her nails biting into her palms.

*Coming today was a mistake.*

Not wanting to lose her composure in front of Song Chuqing or escalate the tension, Song Tan pasted on a smile. "Xiao Chu’s father got tied up. He couldn’t make it."

"Then set something up later to meet."

"Sure."

Xue Wanwan, however, wouldn’t let it go. In a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, she muttered, "Like he’ll ever show his face. Probably won’t even claim—"

Song Tan looked up, locking eyes with the mother and daughter for several seconds, her eyes burning with emotion.

Then she covered Song Chuqing’s ears.

Calmly, she said, "Mom, it’s New Year’s Eve. I didn’t want to come, but I thought it’d be nice to have a meal together after so many years. I didn’t come here to argue or dwell on unpleasant things—just to eat in peace."

"But you just couldn’t let me have that, could you? What’s the point of bringing your scheming daughter along? Still trying to suck up to the Xue family after all these years?"

"You ignored me for thirty years, and now you suddenly care about my daughter? Or is it my—" Song Tan paused, then continued, "my husband you’re interested in? Did your daughter tell you something? Do you believe everything she says? Do you even have a brain?"

She turned to Xue Wanwan. "Have some shame. Stop lurking in corners like a cockroach making messes."

At that moment, Song Tan felt grateful they’d divorced early. She couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d grown up with them—maybe introverted and insecure, maybe all messed up inside, maybe dealing with mental health stuff. Either way, nothing good.

She released Song Chuqing’s ears, stood up, and took her daughter’s hand, grabbing her bag. "Dad, I’m sorry, but we’re out of here. We’ll catch up another time."

Without looking back, she walked out.

Song Zongbo hurried after her, calling, "Tantan, let’s talk this out."

At the front desk, she froze.

She never expected to run into Ji Fuxi there. He was accepting a large bag from the restaurant owner, equally surprised to see her.

Song Chuqing broke free from Song Tan’s grip and ran toward him. "Daddy!"

That single word left the three who’d followed them stunned.

Ji Fuxi, unaware of the situation, glanced at the red-eyed woman nearby before setting the bag down and picking up his daughter.

"What are you doing here?"

Song Chuqing didn’t answer, whispering in his ear instead, "Daddy, Mommy is sad."

Ji Fuxi stiffened, his dark gaze sweeping over the three standing behind her.

...

Xue Wanwan wondered if her eyes and ears were deceiving her. But no—the man holding Song Tan’s daughter was indeed Ji Fuxi, her company’s CEO, a business magnate no one in the capital dared to cross.

She couldn’t hide her shock. "Mom—"

Qi Yingchang didn’t recognize Ji Fuxi, but she could tell this man was no ordinary person—and certainly not the fat, balding sugar daddy Xue Wanwan had described.

She, too, was stunned. "Wanwan, who is this?"

Xue Wanwan was speechless.

Song Zongbo stepped forward, his face equally astonished. He asked Song Tan first, "Tantan, who’s this?"

Song Tan felt no schadenfreude in this moment, nor did she wish to introduce Ji Fuxi to them or use him to fulfill her own desires. This whole situation shouldn’t have happened.

But since they had already crossed paths, she could only reply in a calm tone, "Dad, this is Xiao Chu’s father."

Ji Fuxi gave another deep glance at the visibly upset woman, neither greeting anyone nor showing any expression.

Xue Wanwan stepped forward, thought for a moment, then pasted on a polite smile. "Hi there, brother-in-law."

Song Tan was floored, almost laughing in disbelief.

Now it was Ji Fuxi’s turn to be surprised. "Your sister?"

Song Tan answered bluntly, "No."

Xue Wanwan’s face stiffened.

Ji Fuxi had never looked into Song Tan’s family background, but he knew from her that she didn’t get along with her parents.

It was New Year’s Eve—meant to be a family dinner, yet here was Xue Wanwan calling him "brother-in-law"...

Ji Fuxi could pretty much guess that something unpleasant must have happened.

Having known Song Tan for some time, he understood what kind of person she was. Seeing her now, lip bitten, eyes red, was something he could hardly imagine.

After a brief pause, he freed one arm from holding their daughter and reached out to take her hand.

She was his daughter’s mother—he had every right to protect her.

As their palms touched, warmth spread between them without a word. Song Tan looked up in shock.

Ji Fuxi tightened his grip on her hand, then turned to the restaurant manager. "Could you have these put in the car?"

"Of course."

He then turned back to the three people across from them, his voice low but firm. "Hello, I’m Xiao Chu’s father."

Song Chuqing, clueless about the tension, glared at them angrily. "This is my dad!"

Song Zongbo was the first to react. "Hello."

Ji Fuxi gave a slight nod to the three before softening his tone to the woman beside him. "Shall we go?"

By now, Song Tan’s surprise had overtaken her earlier anger. She responded belatedly, "Mm."

The trio walked out together.

Once they’d left, Qi Yingchang asked again, "Wanwan, is that Tantan’s husband?"

Xue Wanwan stared in the direction they had left, seething with frustration.

Who knew?

Who knew Song Tan’s daughter’s father was Ji Fuxi?!

No wonder she bagged the lead role in *The Great Dream*—how could Wanwan possibly top that?

...

Ji Gaozheng had recently taken a liking to Cantonese cuisine and had ordered a special dish from a restaurant. With Uncle Li and the rest of the household staff on holiday, Ji Fuxi had to go get it himself.

Their joined hands came apart once they stepped outside. He first settled Song Chuqing into the car and closed the door.

"Are you alright?"

The woman standing a step away managed a fragile smile. "I’m fine. Thank you."

It was strange—every time she was at her most vulnerable, he happened to be there. And every time, he asked the same question: *Are you alright?*

No. She wasn’t. Not at all.

Song Tan turned away, covering her mouth as she gagged twice.

He offered a clean handkerchief from behind. After hesitating for two seconds, she accepted it. "Thank you."

Ji Fuxi didn’t press further, stood quietly by as she pulled herself together.

The first time they met, he’d happened to hear her retching in the restroom. It sounded so awful he couldn’t ignore it.

The second time was at a private club—the day those photos of her and Chu leaked. She had been panicked, her body betraying her again.

The third time was on set, when she had been so deep in character she couldn’t snap out.

Now, her bloodshot eyes, ashen cheeks, and fluttering lashes bared her pain.

Ji Fuxi didn’t know how to comfort her. He wasn’t experienced—maybe not even entitled—to do so. Just bringing her out here was overstepping.

After half a minute, Song Tan turned back, her voice even again. "Thanks for today."

"I’ll drive you home."

"No need. I drove myself here."

The man frowned. "Like this?"

Fair point. She was too upset to drive safely. Song Tan lowered her voice. "Then my car..."

"I’ll have someone come drive it back for you."

Ji Fuxi took the driver’s seat today. He wasn’t in his usual Rolls-Royce, and there was no car seat in the back.

Once inside, their daughter instantly clung to her mother, calling out softly.

Song Tan’s heart ached with guilt—she hated that her emotions had affected her daughter. Gently stroking her head, she reassured her, "Mommy’s okay, Xiao Chu. Don’t be scared."

Song Chuqing looked up. "Mommy, let’s never eat with them again. They’re mean."

Song Tan pressed her lips together. "We don’t get to call people good or bad."

"Anyone who makes Mommy unhappy is bad!"

Ji Fuxi caught their reflection in the rearview mirror before smoothly pulling away.

At home, Song Tan lifted her daughter from the car and thanked him once more. "You can head out now, Mr. Ji. Happy New Year."

Ji Fuxi looked at his daughter. Song Chuqing was uncharacteristically quiet today, mute, arms locked around her mom.

He stayed.

Song Tan put the child down and patted her head. "Xiao Chu, go inside and wait for Mommy."

"Okay~"

Once Song Chuqing had gone inside, Song Tan spoke earnestly, "Mr. Ji, I really can't thank you enough today. Those were my parents and my mother's stepdaughter. We did have some unpleasantness, but thankfully you showed up in time."

Over the past month, Song Tan had come to understand how seriously he took their agreement, playing the father role conscientiously. Today, he had stepped in to help even though it wasn't about Song Chuqing, and she was deeply grateful.

Ji Fuxi frowned. "Song Tan."

"I'm an adult. I can manage my emotions on my own. You don't need to worry."

After a pause, Ji Fuxi spoke again, "Do you need me to stay?" He didn't care much about New Year's Eve traditions. Staying to share a meal with them wouldn't be difficult for him.

Song Tan was surprised, then smiled faintly. "No need. We've always celebrated just the two of us for years now. It's nothing. Our agreement doesn't require this either. I'll explain it to Xiao Chu."

She waited a few more seconds before lowering her voice. "Mr. Ji, if you stay just because you feel sorry for us today and give Xiao Chu hope, can you promise to be with her every Spring Festival, every New Year's Eve from now on?"

"If not, why make next New Year's even more painful for her?"

Ji Fuxi met her gaze, neither backing down.

The unspoken words were clear in that exchange.

A light came on upstairs, casting a soft pink glow—Song Chuqing's room.

Ji Fuxi took a step back. "Alright. Contact me if you need anything."

"Mm, goodbye."

Song Tan entered the house and closed the door, slumping weakly against the shoe cabinet in the entryway.

She wasn't done. Her mind was still a mess.

Perhaps too much had happened today. She was suddenly hit by regret—regret for letting Ji Fuxi enter Xiao Chu's life. If, like her own parents, he could only be there for a few years, if he was destined to leave, wouldn't it have been better not to start at all?

If Xiao Chu grew more and more attached to him, how heartbroken would she be when he left? When he married and had his own children? When all his love went to another child?

She crouched down, fists clenched, nails biting into her palms again.

I'm sorry, Xiao Chu. I should have thought further ahead. I should have foreseen this.

…

Ji Fuxi arrived home at six. The house was bustling with activity, with Ji Zhongliang's family and Ji Jiangdie's family filling the space.

In the living room, Yao Liankang stood up. "Fu Xi."

Yao Liankang worked at the procuratorate, his family comfortably well-off but not comparable to the Ji family's status.

Since marrying Ji Jiangdie, the couple had spent every New Year's Eve at the Ji residence, returning to his family's home on the first day of the new year.

Ji Fuxi wasn't close to Ji Jiangdie, so naturally, he wasn't especially friendly with this brother-in-law either.

He nodded, giving a perfunctory smile before heading to the study.

Ji Gaozheng had been upset with him these past two days. The moment Ji Fuxi stepped in, the old man glowered—though it lasted only seconds before he couldn't hold back. "What sort of man marries and doesn't bring his wife home for the New Year? Don't tell me you faked the marriage certificate to fool me!"

This matter was unconventional. Ji Fuxi approached the desk, placating. "Grandfather, our situation is unique. We're not ready to make it public yet."

"What's so unique about it? Huh? Do you think I'd bite her head off or something?"

Ji Fuxi chuckled inwardly. Honestly, that wasn't out of the question.

He picked up a small seal from the desk, examining it in his hands. After a long moment, he spoke abruptly. "Grandfather, it's been over ten years since Grandmother passed. Do you miss her?"

Ji Gaozheng stiffened. "Why are you bringing up your grandmother now? We're talking about your wife!"

Ji Gaozheng was a descendant of a fallen official family from that era. He later joined the military, earning honors through his bravery and ability. His wife had been the daughter of a superior officer who admired him and arranged the marriage.

Later, when choosing a daughter-in-law for himself, he had been equally particular—demanding exceptional background, education, and grace.

Ji Fuxi set the seal down and lifted his gaze. "I heard you and Grandmother married after meeting just twice. Were you in love with her then?"

Ji Gaozheng gave him a long look before slowly making his way to the window with his cane.

After what felt like an eternity, his voice came from the window. "Fu Xi, a man shouldn't make love his whole world."

Ji Fuxi watched as the nearly eighty-year-old man's posture seemed to hunch further.

He said nothing more.

The study fell into silence, the faint scent of ink lingering in the air.

A sudden knock came at the door. Ji Jiarui, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, strode in with gifts. "Happy New Year, Grandfather!"

Ji Gaozheng finally broke into a smile. "You brat. Finally remembered to visit me, huh?"

"Ah, it's just that Dad thinks I'm too irresponsible to let me hang around you. Otherwise, I'd be here every morning and night to greet you!"

"No discipline."

"Yeah, yeah." Ji Jiarui was silver-tongued and charming. "With my big brother holding up the family, Grandfather and I can just sit back and enjoy life."

Ji Gaozheng shot him a look. "Enough. Get out of here. No more nonsense."

Ji Jiarui promptly dragged Ji Fuxi out with him.

Once outside, he whispered, "Bro, the equestrian club is ready. Let's go check it out in a few days."

"No."

"Come on! You're one of the investors. Don't you want to see it for yourself?"

Ji Fuxi never gave Ji Jiarui money for nothing. Though Ji Jiarui was often irresponsible—loving to drink and party—he had opened his own bar with Ji Fuxi's investment, which had surprisingly become profitable.

This equestrian club was the same. Ji Fuxi warned, "Find competent people to manage it. Don't start in the red."

"Relax, it won't fail. Membership-based, catering to the elite in the capital. We've almost recouped costs just from membership fees. Add some special events later, and we'll definitely profit."

Ji Fuxi didn't respond, heading toward the living room—when both suddenly stopped.

Ji Zhongliang and his wife weren't in the living room. Only Ji Jiangdie and Yao Liankang remained.

Yao Liankang apparently cut his hand cooking. Ji Jiangdie was bandaging it for him, her expression full of worry.

Ji Jiarui had always disliked the couple. He muttered quietly, "Yao comes every year just to cook, and the old man eats it up every time."

"That's enough."

"Exactly! Look at him acting pitiful now—a grown man, no wonder Ji Jiangdie feels bad for him."

Ji Jiarui clicked his tongue. "That's why I say, don't pity men..." He caught himself mid-sentence and corrected, "Don't pity women either. Pitying women only brings trouble."

Ji Fuxi looked over, his gaze darkening.

Noticing this, Ji Jiarui raised an eyebrow. "I’m not wrong. Women these days are full of schemes. They set traps deliberately, and pity is just the first step into their game. Next thing you know, you’ll be simping for them."

The man smirked at his words. "Nonsense."

"What, you don’t believe me?!"

Aunt Jiang came out from the kitchen, interrupting their conversation. "Ruirui, go call your parents from the pigpen outside. Dinner’s about ready."

Ji Jiarui froze. "Pigpen?"

Aunt Jiang chuckled. "Your brother got them."

"??? Bro, since when were you into this?"

Ji Fuxi shot him a glare and headed to the dining room.

Dinner started at seven sharp.

Yao Peiqiu bowed respectfully. "Great-Grandpa, may the Year of the Pig bring you auspiciousness, smooth sailing, and a hundred years of blessings!"

"Peiqiu, that’s very thoughtful of you," Ji Gaozheng beamed, then added pointedly, "Not like your uncle."

Ji Fuxi also handed over his gift. "Grandfather, Happy New Year."

Ji Jiangdie and Ji Zhongliang’s family did the same.

"Enough formalities, let’s eat," Ji Gaozheng grumbled, though at his age, having weathered life’s storms and lost his son and daughter-in-law, this reunion was everything he could ask for.

Yao Peiqiu, playful and clever, kept Ji Gaozheng laughing throughout the meal.

Yao Liankang, always good at working a room, casually brought up work stuff—some informative, others minor dilemmas—hoping Ji Gaozheng might offer advice.

This was exactly what the retired veteran relished. Ji Gaozheng started going on and on, sharing his wisdom.

Ji Fuxi sat through it patiently for two hours. When the family moved to the living room, he went upstairs to make a call.

He dialed Song Chuqing, who had a smartwatch.

She answered quickly, her voice sleepy and sweet through the receiver: "Daddy~"

Ji Fuxi walked to the bed, undressing as he spoke. "Xiao Chu, have you eaten?"

"Yes! Mommy made me delicious noodles. Did you eat, Daddy?"

"I did." He paused, then asked gently, "What’s Mommy doing now?"

"Mommy just put me to bed. I faked being asleep, and she left."

Ji Fuxi chuckled. "You were faking it?"

"Oops!" On the other end, Song Chuqing quickly covered her mouth. Oh no, I gave myself away!

After a moment, he asked, "Was Mommy in a good mood tonight?"

"Mm-hmm! She even watched *Paw Patrol* with me."

Good... So she seemed okay.

Ji Fuxi: "Xiao Chu, go to sleep now."

But Song Chuqing wasn’t sleepy. "Daddy, I don’t like Grandpa and Grandma."

"Oh?"

"They upset Mommy today. I don’t like them."

Unsure how to comfort her, Ji Fuxi hesitated before saying, "We’ll stop seeing them."

"How?"

"...Daddy will figure it out."

"Okay!" Song Chuqing brightened. "Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight."

After hanging up, Ji Fuxi laughed to himself. One phone call, and suddenly he had a mission?

He sat quietly for a while, then texted Zhuang Cheng: "Check up on Song Tan’s parents."

After a thought, he added: "Wait till after New Year’s."

"Red envelope: Happy New Year."

No need to rush this. Ji Fuxi set his phone aside and went to shower.

Outside, snow began to fall again, drifting down.

Finished early with no work to do, Ji Fuxi didn’t know what to do.

His gaze landed on the tablet. Out of curiosity, he picked it up, opened a browser, and typed: "*Paw Patrol*."

"Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, we’ll be there on the double! No job’s too big, no pup’s too small~" The familiar theme song played—he’d heard Xiao Chu humming it before.

The cartoon was bright and upbeat, great for kids.

Soon, he spotted one of Xiao Chu’s favorites: Chase the German Shepherd.

Before he could finish the episode, his phone buzzed. The screen showed: "Song Chuqing."

He answered to hear her tearful voice: "Daddy, waaah! Mommy’s burning up—come quick, please!"