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

At that time, though he hadn’t been embraced, Ji Tingzhou’s body was still stained with that woman’s blood. He didn’t bother to confirm her state of death, scrubbing himself until his skin was raw and bleeding.

He only listened to his subordinate’s report—how the woman had been thrown into the kennel, where the beasts eagerly clamped onto her limbs and tore her apart.

Later, when they sent people to clean up, the scene was too gruesome to look at. From the remaining flesh and hair, it was confirmed that Ji Wanting had been entirely devoured by the dogs.

Afterward, they slaughtered the beasts and found large amounts of human tissue in their stomachs, undigested.

Thus, they concluded Ji Wanting was truly gone.

Most of Ji Wanting’s followers had adored her for her beauty and her skill with a brush. If her appearance was ruined, if she could no longer hold a paintbrush, who would continue to love a broken goddess?

But now, Ji Tingzhou was reinvestigating the events of that year.

He realized he had been wrong.

Wrong to underestimate the influence of that madwoman.

There really were people who would love her, even after she had fallen into the mud, deformed and ruined.

With a flick of his hand, he sent the documents scattering to the floor.

The papers splayed open, revealing a photograph taken years ago—a gaunt, gloomy young man with a face so forgettable no one could recall his features.

His name was Mu Xiu.

A man whose presence was so faint, everyone struggled to remember what he looked like.

The poor student who was always bullied by Ji Wanting’s other followers, pushed to the outskirts where he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of her hair, yet still showed up without fail, rain or shine.

The thought that he had overlooked this man for so many years made Ji Tingzhou laugh in frustration, his grip tightening until blood splattered.

Just then, the door swung open.

At the sound, Ji Tingzhou frowned. He had given strict orders that no one was to disturb him.

His ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍sharp, irritated gaze swept over the intruder—only to falter, the anger dissipating like water down a drain.

Standing in the doorway was a little girl in a dusty pink dress, her curly hair tied into a lopsided ponytail. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at Ji Tingzhou with an impassive expression.

Her clear, emerald-green eyes were ten times sharper than his as they zeroed in on his bloodied hand.

Ji Tingzhou: "……"

Honestly.

In that moment, something like guilt twisted in his chest, freezing his limbs stiff.

"Heh."

Ji Nian let out a cold laugh.

"So you hid away here just to play self-harm games, huh, Ji Tingzhou?"

Her tone, her mockery—it all felt absurdly like looking into a mirror.

He couldn’t even bring himself to scold her for daring to address her own father by his full name.

"An accident," Ji Tingzhou said, flexing his injured hand.

He watched as Ji Nian stormed over like a blazing fire, glaring at him fiercely before plopping down across from him.

One look at the wound, and Ji Nian knew exactly what had happened.

What kind of "accident" involved punching a mirror?

"Did you see a wrinkle? Is that why you’re so mad?"

Ji Tingzhou scowled. "I don’t have wrinkles."

Taking the tweezers, Ji Nian shot him a look, silently commanding him to stay still as she picked out the shards of glass.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Ji Tingzhou didn’t move, not even daring to complain about the lack of disinfectant when Ji Nian didn’t bother with it.

Her hands were steadier than his, removing the fragments with practiced ease.

Finally, she pulled out a small tube of lipstick—actually a healing agent—and sprayed it over his wound.

Then, she rummaged through the first-aid kit and bandaged him up with gauze.

"I have some too," he said lazily, leaning back after holding still for so long, eyeing the healing agent disguised as lipstick.

Ji Nian still refused to soften her tone. "Of course you do. I gave it to you."

Her original intention had been to erase the scars on Ji Tingzhou’s hands—even the ones on his body. For someone so vain, even if he claimed not to care anymore, surely those marks bothered him sometimes.

When she first developed the healing agent, it was with Ji Tingzhou in mind.

After countless experiments, the first batch had been gifted to him.

But he never used it. Ji Nian was too embarrassed to ask, unable to just strip her father down to check. She could only guess based on the stubborn scars still marring his fingers.

Glancing at his bandaged hand, Ji Tingzhou asked softly, "Once it heals, the old scars will be gone too?"

Ji Nian nodded. "Yes. But it’ll look uglier."

With scars covering his fingers, removing just one patch would look uneven.

"Got it. I’ll take care of them when I have time," he replied, his voice lazy.

Truthfully, Ji Tingzhou had long stopped caring about those marks. He hadn’t bothered removing them simply because it was too much trouble.

But since the kid was so concerned, he might as well do it—if only to stop her from obsessing over him.

"Why did you come here?"

Ji Nian crossed her arms. "Wei Yang said you were hunting."

"And the prey?"

Ji Tingzhou didn’t blink. "Ate it."

Ji Nian: Heh.

"I noticed you haven’t been using the incense. Ran out?"

After a moment’s thought, Ji Nian decided not to confront him directly.

If Ji Tingzhou was keeping something from her, prying answers out of him would be near impossible.

But that was fine. She’d investigate on her own.

Realizing his insomnia wasn’t something he could hide from her, Ji Tingzhou admitted, "It’s not the incense."

No one could sleep when a woman in a red dress sat by their bed singing every night.

"Have you felt any sudden numbness in your body? Like you couldn’t move a limb?"

Though puzzled by her question, Ji Tingzhou answered patiently, even as his head throbbed violently.

...

Ji Xi had been holed up in his room, barely stepping outside since before summer break.

"It’s only been a short while since the stimulation. Right now, it’s the early stages—headaches, occasional hallucinations. Soon, he won’t be able to distinguish illusion from reality."

"Mother, trust me. He’ll come begging to me on his own."

"The healing agent was just a minor setback. I underestimated the Ji family’s pharmacists. I won’t fail again."

"Mother, comfort me. Your Xiao Xi is the most obedient child."

Ji Xi curled up on the floor, gazing up at the woman who, despite her age, still possessed the delicate beauty of a young girl—though one of her eyes was missing.

Yet the woman seemed not to hear him.

A dangerous, enchanting smile played on her lips as she lost herself in her own world.

This was how it should be.

The Ji family wasn’t meant to have any normal people.

Welcome to the world of the mad, Xiao Zhou.

In the eerie glow of the room, a brain suspended in a transparent nutrient solution, connected by countless tubes, suddenly pulsed in agreement.