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

"Ah, sorry, sorry! Are you okay, teacher?"

A cosplayer who had been chasing after a friend didn't notice the person nearby—the long prop weapon he was carrying accidentally grazed Lu Jinghuai's face.

Lu Jinghuai moved his hand away, revealing a red mark on his right cheek. A few drops of blood slowly welled up from the scratch, trailing down his fair skin. His lashes lowered slightly, and his pale lips pressed together.

The stall owner, who had come over to check on the situation, gasped at the sight.

Without thinking, they raised their phone and snapped a quick photo of Lu Jinghuai.

Battle-damaged…

"It's fine."

Noticing Ji Nian's gaze lingering on the wound on his cheek, Lu Jinghuai flinched as if burned, abruptly looking away and covering the injury with his hand.

"Teacher, I’m really sorry! I have alcohol and cotton balls here—I’m so, so sorry!"

Lu Jinghuai didn’t look very old, and with a face like that… the cosplayer felt like crying, having accidentally marred it.

Never again would he roughhouse with friends inside the venue.

He Xiang, standing nearby, glanced at Ji Nian’s slightly dazed expression before speaking up. "I have gauze."

His grandmother worried about him, always insisting he carry lightweight first-aid supplies when he went out.

The stall owner quickly ushered the two behind the stall, pausing their business for the moment.

"Ji Nian, you help treat his wound. I’ll watch the stall."

The stall owner, dressed in a lolita dress, bent down and pulled out two folding stools from the cart they’d brought, handing them over.

Ji Nian took them, unfolding one and glancing at Lu Jinghuai, who was still covering his face.

Having his face injured seemed to have put him in a bad mood.

But she could understand—if she had a face like his, she’d definitely buy the most expensive insurance for it. A single scratch wouldn’t just upset her; the insurance company would probably panic too.

"It’s okay, I saw it earlier. The cut’s really shallow," Ji Nian reassured him.

He Xiang took the other stool from her and nudged it toward Lu Jinghuai.

Lu Jinghuai sat down obediently, eyes lowered, avoiding Ji Nian’s gaze.

Taking the freshly packaged gauze from He Xiang, Ji Nian looked at Lu Jinghuai, who still stubbornly kept his hand over his cheek, and couldn’t help but laugh.

Who knew the "Little Crown Prince" had this side to him?

Her voice softened with amusement. "Little Crown Prince, if you keep covering your face like that, I can’t disinfect it."

He Xiang nodded in agreement. "It’s hot out. If sweat gets into the wound, it might scar."

At the word "scar," Lu Jinghuai finally lifted his eyes.

Meeting Ji Nian’s gaze as she sat across from him on the stool, he averted his face again and muttered something under his breath.

Ji Nian didn’t catch it, leaning closer. "Huh? What was that?"

The movement brought their knees together, and the faint scent of her sleeves drifted over, cutting through the stuffy air like a breath of freshness.

"...Having a wound on my face is ugly."

This time, Ji Nian heard him clearly.

"Pfft, it’s fine. I’ve got a crack on my butt—that’s not pretty either."

Lu Jinghuai: "……"

He Xiang, holding the iodine: "……"

"Pfft—"

Lu Jinghuai turned his head away, unable to suppress a laugh. His blue contact lenses shimmered with amusement.

He Xiang’s lips also quirked up slightly.

Ji Nian didn’t see what was so funny.

She was being serious.

But if it cheered up the Little Crown Prince, then whatever.

"So… can I treat your wound now?"

She shook the cotton swab in her hand, the bells on her outfit jingling softly.

When Lu Jinghuai looked back at her, traces of laughter still lingered in his eyes.

"Mm."

Satisfied that Ji Nian’s gaze held no pity or change from before, he relaxed, as if the earlier gloominess had been an illusion.

Ji Nian leaned in to examine the wound.

"It really is shallow. It’ll heal in a few days."

Lu ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍Jinghuai sat still, letting her inspect it.

As she dabbed iodine on the cut, she watched his expression carefully. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

He shook his head.

The wound was so shallow that gauze wasn’t strictly necessary, but a regular bandage would look out of place with his outfit. In the end, she trimmed the gauze to size and gently applied it.

With Lu Jinghuai taken care of, He Xiang, having done his part, tugged at his overly long sleeves and returned to work.

The stall owner was about to rush off to a popular booth to snag some fan merch, so He Xiang was left in charge.

At 200 yuan a day, he treasured this rare opportunity to earn money.

Apart from that initial moment of covering his face, Lu Jinghuai showed no further signs of distress over the wound.

Once He Xiang took over the stall, both Lu Jinghuai and Ji Nian pitched in to help.

"Form two lines, please! Teacher over there, could you move to the left a bit? You’re blocking the neighboring stall."

Ji Nian handled crowd control, occasionally even holding up phones to help fans take photos with Lu Jinghuai and He Xiang.

He Xiang glanced over at the sound of jingling bells just as Ji Nian came by to grab the freebies the stall owner had prepared for distribution.

"You don’t have to help. Go enjoy yourself."

Ji Nian waved him off. "Nah, I’ve got nothing better to do."

She took a closer look at the golden patterns painted on half of He Xiang’s face.

When He Xiang first arrived here as a kid, he’d been quite dark-skinned. Over the years, he’d grown much fairer, but now, with his skin artificially darkened again, none of that childhood resemblance remained. Towering at nearly six feet, if he didn’t mention his age, most people would never guess.

"These designs on you look amazing. Did the stall owner paint them?"

He Xiang opened his mouth to answer, but a customer interrupted with a question. He responded first—"Yes, spending over 168 gets you a free blind-box badge."

It was the result of last-minute training from the stall owner, though he still didn’t fully understand half the terms.

Only then did he reply to Ji Nian.

"Yeah, the boss did it."

He Xiang had arrived at 4 a.m. The stall owner, bleary-eyed upon opening the door, had been startled by his appearance.

After checking his student ID and confirming he was only fourteen, they’d sighed in relief—then immediately gotten excited, chattering about how he’d fit perfectly into cosplay outfits.

So He Xiang had been dolled up like a mannequin, his skin darkened, dressed in strange clothing. He didn’t mind—he was getting paid, after all.

Halfway through the body paint, Lu Jinghuai had shown up.

The stall owner’s scream at the sight of him had nearly blown the roof off.

When He Xiang deadpanned that the sound had been like a squeaky chicken run over by a sewage truck, Ji Nian let out a sharp, startled laugh.

It drew Lu Jinghuai’s attention from where he was still working the stall.

Watching Ji Nian laugh like a monkey whose funny bone had been tickled, Lu Jinghuai suddenly felt a pang of irritation.

He shouldn’t have talked to her.

If only he’d brought 100,000 in cash.

Then he could’ve just thrown money everywhere, and no one would be staring at him anymore.

…He wanted to go talk to her.