Of course, in a society governed by the rule of law—and with the incident already exposed online—killing the boy was clearly not a reasonable option.
When You Er mentioned that the child refused to say anything and kept crying for his father, Ji Tingzhou seemed to go deaf for a moment, completely ignoring the statement.
To put it bluntly, it was none of his damn business.
If he had to see everyone who called him "Dad," he might as well not live at all.
Sensing that Ji Tingzhou likely had zero interest in the child, You Er lowered his gaze and nodded in understanding.
Thinking of that pale, frail boy, a cold glint flashed in You Er’s eyes.
Whether or not the boy was Ji Tingzhou’s son didn’t matter. Whoever he was, You Er wouldn’t let him threaten Ji Nian’s position.
"It hurts… Wuwu, it hurts so much. Why won’t Dad see me? I want to see Dad!"
Despite having two broken ribs, the boy struggled to get out of bed, whimpering for his father, ignoring everything anyone said to him.
Seeing the beautiful child crying so heartbreakingly, the doctor couldn’t help but feel pity. He had been called in temporarily and had no idea what was really going on.
"Where are the child’s parents?" he asked, glancing at the group of bodyguards surrounding them.
"His parents? The police will find out soon enough," one of You Er’s subordinates replied coldly, shooting the doctor a look that clearly said: Just do your job and stay out of it.
...
When Ji Tingzhou returned, Ji Nian was waiting at the door. The moment she saw her father enter, she sprang up from her crouched position.
"Dad."
She ran over, studying Ji Tingzhou—who had changed clothes—and the red veins in his eyes.
[Did he cry without even meeting the boy?]
Wei Yang had rushed off to reprimand someone, but Zhiliao was still there. With one look, she could tell he had probably vomited.
Zhiliao found it strange.
It shouldn’t have been that bad.
Ji Tingzhou had severe mysophobia, but not this severe.
Ji Tingzhou was desperate to go upstairs and shower. Even though he had already cleaned up once, he still felt filthy.
But seeing Ji Nian waiting for him, he paused, looking down at the eyes that mirrored his own—eyes he had once despised most in his life.
"He’s not."
Ji Tingzhou frowned, his gaze locked onto Ji Nian, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion on her face.
He seemed braced for her to throw a tantrum.
But Ji Nian didn’t. She met his gaze calmly and grabbed his dangling hand. "I know."
Those three confident words seemed to carry magic, flowing into his ears and sealing the gaping hole inside him that had been oozing black, nauseating filth.
"Hmm…"
Ji Tingzhou let Ji Nian hold his hand for a while before finally going upstairs to change.
Ji Nian glanced at Zhiliao, who gave her a reassuring look before following Ji Tingzhou up.
Watching Ji Tingzhou’s hurried steps, Ji Nian’s expression darkened.
What had he seen in that brief moment of shock?
The police arrived at the Ji residence in person, and the servants instinctively served tea.
Since Ji Tingzhou hadn’t come down yet, Ji Nian took charge of receiving them.
The officer had just thanked the maid who brought the tea when he noticed a child walking in. He nearly blurted out, Where are the adults?
But a sharp look from the older officer beside him shut him up.
The seasoned officer stood up smoothly and smiled at Ji Nian. "Miss Ji, long time no see."
He was an old acquaintance.
In fact, he had been the one to arrest Zhang Yulan (the nanny) years ago.
"Officer Wang."
Ji Nian nodded and sat down across from him.
The boy had been handed over to the police, but no matter how they questioned him about his name or background, he only sobbed softly and repeated that he was in pain.
Before they could uncover anything, they turned away for a moment—only to find the boy had vanished from the hospital bed when they looked back.
They scoured the surveillance footage, but there was no trace of him. It was as if he had appeared out of thin air—utterly bizarre.
Hearing this, Ji Nian became even more certain.
This was a premeditated attack targeting Ji Tingzhou.
But what was the goal?
Media attention? Online backlash?
Ji Tingzhou didn’t care about any of that.
Or was it simply about finding a child who resembled Ji Nian to disgust him?
After seeing Officer Wang out, Zhiliao came downstairs and shook her head at Ji Nian.
Ji Nian understood—Zhiliao hadn’t gotten any answers either.
Just to be safe, Ji Nian called in a doctor to give Ji Tingzhou a full checkup.
The incident had happened too suddenly. Even though the boy hadn’t touched Ji Tingzhou, there was no guarantee he hadn’t done something underhanded.
Ji Nian even personally prepared a universal antidote—not the mass-produced kind—and forced Ji Tingzhou to drink a bottle.
Watching the child bustle around, Ji Tingzhou reclined lazily, propping his chin on his hand. The only sign of distress was the lingering redness in his eyes.
Suddenly, he felt a twinge of dissatisfaction.
"You’re awfully calm."
Any other kid in this situation—whether the threat was real or not—would be clinging to their father in fear.
After all, children were possessive of those they loved.
So why did Ji Nian act like nothing had happened?
Ji Nian was too busy—she still had to reply to Chen Mo’s messages—to entertain his complaints.
Without looking up, she tossed her rabbit plushie at him. "Be good. I’m busy."
Ji Tingzhou sneered at the stupid rabbit in his hand, then flung it aside by the ears.
Who wanted that hideous thing Chen Tiaotiao had bought?
Instead, he grabbed the round little chick plushie and hugged it comfortably.
Watching Ji Nian dart around, working tirelessly for him, he could almost picture what she’d look like all grown up.
Retirement didn’t seem so far away.
Ji Tingzhou closed his eyes, exhaustion washing over him. He’d woken up too early, and the day’s events had drained him.
But the moment he drifted into darkness, the earlier scene replayed in his mind.
A crowd held back by barriers, their dark devices aimed at him. The blinding flashes of cameras made him nauseous, and the noise pressed in, making him want to scowl.
Then, out of the corner of his eye—a flash of red.
A vivid, blood-like red, stark against the distorted chaos.
Through the gaps in the crowd, a woman’s face appeared—so beautiful it was almost surreal.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone. But the damp, clinging sensation she left behind clung to his lungs, corroding the protective layers he’d rebuilt over the years.
"Xiao Zhou… Xiao Zhou… Big sister loves you the most…"
A girl’s laughter, light as silver bells, echoed in his ears as if traveling through time.
Ji Tingzhou’s eyes flew open.
