The old man’s blatant, undisguised favoritism practically had the words “my precious darling” written across his face.
Han Ting couldn’t help rolling his eyes—only to be caught red-handed by Jiang Fuyue.
His eyes flashed with a split second of guilt and awkwardness before twisting into fierce defiance: What are you looking at?! Keep staring and I swear—I’ll beat you up!
Honestly, he looked kind of like Little Mang when it bared its teeth.
Jiang Fuyue calmly averted her gaze and continued eating.
Clearly, the old man had put thought into this meal.
The ingredients were fresh, the plating elegant, and the taste top-notch. There were even several regional dishes from Linhuai.
Both the delicious flavors and the heartfelt care behind them deserved proper appreciation, so Jiang Fuyue naturally took her time, savoring every bite.
Han Ting: “?” Is she a rice bucket or what?
After the meal, Jiang Fuyue accompanied the old man on a walk.
Han Ting slouched on the sofa and muttered, “What a showoff…”
Unfortunately, Han Shen happened to walk by and kicked him.
“Ahh!” Han Ting yelped and shot to his feet. “You trying to kill me?!”
“If I hear you say anything like that again, it won’t be just a kick.”
“I’m just speaking the truth…”
These days, who still wants to go walking with old people after dinner? Playing games, watching dramas, gossiping online—isn’t that way better?
Besides, all the girls in his class liked that kind of thing.
He didn’t believe Jiang Fuyue was any different.
She was obviously pretending, trying to win points in front of Grandpa and curry favor!
So fake it’s disgusting!
“What did you just say?!” Han Shen’s eyes turned cold. “Say it again!”
Han Ting pouted and lazily flopped back onto the sofa. “Good words don’t need repeating.”
He was totally bluffing—his side still throbbed from the kick. Ugh, he wanted to rub it so bad…
“You little brat, I—”
“Hey, big bro, what are you doing?” Han Ke stepped in just in time. “No domestic violence, take it easy.”
“Hmph!” Han Shen flicked his sleeves and left.
Han Ting: “Thanks, Second Uncle…”
“Don’t thank me. I don’t accept it. You were badmouthing Yueyue. If I hear you do it again, forget your dad—I’ll be the one teaching you a lesson. Believe it?”
Han Ting shrank back.
D*mn! Why is everyone siding with Jiang Fuyue?!
He wasn’t the beloved baby of this family anymore, was he?
Crushed, Han Ting ran upstairs, his footsteps thumping all the way.
Suddenly, the sound stopped. He popped his head out from the stairwell and yelled, “Little Mang—!”
No response.
He called again, “Little Mang, come here! I’ll open a can for you!”
Still nothing.
“Don’t bother,” Han Ke said lazily. “Little Mang went on a walk with Yueyue.”
Han Ting: “……” D*mn!
Stupid dog! There goes next month’s snacks too!
—
After their walk, which was meant to aid digestion, Han Qishan—despite it being a routine activity—felt unprecedented joy and delight.
His granddaughter walked beside him, Little Mang trailed behind. They chatted and laughed the entire way.
As time passed, Jiang Fuyue accompanied him back.
Little Mang stuck right to her side. Whenever Jiang Fuyue paused, the dog would wrap itself around her leg, rubbing nonstop.
“Tut…”
“Looks like Little Mang really likes you. They say dogs are smart, and even he knows our whole family welcomes you, right Little Mang?”
“Woof woof—” Welcome! Welcome!
Back home, following the old man’s usual routine, he should have gone upstairs after sitting in the living room for a bit.
But today, he stayed.
Not only that, he even asked Jiang Fuyue to play chess with him.
Han Shen covered his face silently: You still haven’t had enough of losing last time?
Han Ke simply looked away. Yep, the old man sure doesn’t remember his losses.
But then—
Han Qishan: “Let’s not play Go today, let’s try something different.”
Two minutes later, it was the same board, same black and white pieces.
But the rules had changed…
They were playing Five-in-a-row now.
Han Qishan: “I’ve studied this one, very interesting!”
Jiang Fuyue: “I’m good with anything.”
Ten minutes later—
Jiang Fuyue: “You lost.”
Twenty minutes later—
Jiang Fuyue: “You lost again.”
Thirty minutes later—
Old Man: “Why do I keep losing?”
Han Shen: “……”
Han Ke: “……”
“No, no, this set must be cursed! The black and white stones are jinxing me. Let’s switch!”
And so, they switched to Chinese chess.
Jiang Fuyue: “Check.”
Han Qishan: “……”
“Check again.”
“……”
“Still check. You have no way out.”
Old Man: “I’m done! I’m sleepy!”
With that, he slipped away like a greased rabbit, bolting upstairs faster than lightning.
Jiang Fuyue packed up the pieces. “Uncle Shen, Uncle Ke, I’m going to rest too.”
“Alright, sleep early.”
“Goodnight, Yueyue.”
Jiang Fuyue: “Goodnight.”
At 1 a.m., Han Shen finished some company paperwork in the study and went downstairs to get hot water.
Passing by the old man’s room, he noticed the light was still on and the door slightly ajar.
Peering through the crack, he saw the old man sitting on the edge of his bed under the light. Several books were spread across his lap, and he held one in his hands, reading intently with his reading glasses on, occasionally muttering, writing, or sketching something.
Han Shen raised a brow and returned to the study. Sure enough, the top row of the bookshelf had a few gaps.
Wasn’t that… a bunch of strategy books?
—
That night, Jiang Fuyue slept soundly in her soft, pink-toned bedroom.
She woke naturally the next morning. One look at her phone—8:00.
She never had a habit of sleeping in. She got up, washed up, and went downstairs for breakfast.
“So early, Yueyue?”
“Why not sleep in a bit more?”
“Was the bed uncomfortable? I’ll get it replaced right away—”
Jiang Fuyue: “No need. I slept very well. Thank you, Uncle.”
Han Shen nodded. “If you need anything, just say it. This is your home—no need to be polite.”
“Alright.”
Han Shen smiled warmly, then turned to a servant. His voice dropped several octaves, losing all kindness: “Go wake Han Ting. Everyone else is up, and he’s still sleeping? What kind of example is that?!”
“Yes, sir.” The maid scurried upstairs, bitter as a bitter melon.
Half an hour later, Han Ting finally came down.
The groggy teen had dark circles under his eyes, looked totally grumpy, and wore pajamas. He hadn’t combed his hair or washed his face. Every few steps he yawned, looking utterly limp.
Jiang Fuyue: “I’m done eating.”
She placed her bowl down, set her chopsticks aside, and left the room.
Sure enough, moments later, the dining room erupted in Han Shen’s booming scold.
Mixed with the boy’s occasional talking back and protests.
Absolute chaos.
Han Heng: “Ahem—they’re always like that. You’ll get used to it.”
Jiang Fuyue nodded. “I’m already used to it.”
“……”
“Little Mang, come here—” Jiang Fuyue called to the dog.
“Woof~” Coming!
Little Mang trotted over, and Jiang Fuyue clipped on the leash. “Let’s go. Time for a walk.”
“Woof woof woof—” Yay yay!
Han Heng: “……” This girl is way too calm!
Just then, his phone rang—it was his manager.
Lately, Han Heng didn’t feel like working or making money. All he wanted was to laze around and spend time with his niece~
So without even thinking, he declined the call.
The manager cursed him out and redialed.
He turned off his phone.
Little did Han Heng know—just a few hours later, he, the ever-pristine idol, would be swept into a massive scandal that would break the internet, igniting a frenzy of gossip and speculation!
—
On the lawn, Jiang Fuyue was running laps with Little Mang.
Out of nowhere, the dog dragged over two frisbees.
“Woof woof—” Play with me!
Jiang Fuyue took one, flung it.
Little Mang barked twice and dashed off.
He brought it back, dropped it at her feet. She tossed it again.
After five or six rounds, he got more and more excited.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Little Mang, mid-leap, froze. His body fell with a thump back to the ground. His ears drooped.
From the path ahead, Han Ting came storming over with a whistle around his neck. He was the one who blew it.
“Jiang Fuyue—who said you could walk Little Mang?! Did I give you permission?! Do you even know what that’s called? Taking something without asking is theft!”
“Just because Grandpa, my dad, Second Uncle, and Uncle Heng all like you and spoil you—doesn’t mean you can run wild, do whatever you want, and push others around!”
Uh…
“I heard from Uncle Shen that your grades aren’t so great, and you’ve never passed Chinese class since high school started.”
Gulp!
Han Ting glared. “Don’t think you can shame me or destroy my confidence and self-esteem by throwing my grades in my face, just to highlight how smart, perfect, and dazzling you are—I’m telling you now, I won’t fall for that—!”
Jiang Fuyue tilted her head, looking puzzled. “Since seeing me just now, you’ve used four idioms, quoted something once, and made two parallel constructions. So, why haven’t you ever passed Chinese?”
A soul-crushing question.
Little Mang lifted his head: “Woof!” Yeah, why haven’t you?
Han Ting: “?”
Is this seriously the time to be discussing language scores?!
D*mn it—
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