After taking in his surroundings, Ji Tingzhou felt the tension in his spine ease slightly.
By the time Ji Nian noticed his odd behavior and turned to look, he had already stood up.
"I'm tired. I'm going to rest for a while."
His moment of unease was so brief that Ji Nian didn’t catch it in time, instinctively replying, "Alright, go get some rest."
In the room, the familiar scent of sleep-inducing incense wafted through the air.
Normally, the fragrance would lull Ji Tingzhou to sleep instantly, but tonight it had lost its effect, failing to quiet his mind.
The moment he closed his eyes, the figure he loathed with every fiber of his being would appear—her laughter, laced with malice, unsettling him to the core.
Ji Tingzhou leaned back against the bed, fighting back another wave of nausea.
Though his body and heart recoiled in disgust, his mind remained eerily calm.
When he had retreated earlier, he hadn’t paid much attention to the sudden appearance of that young man. His first instinct had been to have the surveillance footage checked.
But after reviewing every angle, the recordings confirmed there had been nothing there—that glaring, unforgettable figure might as well have been a figment of his imagination.
Sitting up, Ji Tingzhou irritably pulled off his eye mask.
He walked to the window and ordered his pink-headed turtle to draw the curtains—he needed some air.
As the heavy drapes slowly parted, instead of the familiar view outside, he was met with the sight of a girl in a red dress, smiling at him.
The scene was straight out of a horror movie, but unlike most protagonists, Ji Tingzhou didn’t flinch.
He watched calmly until the illusion dissolved like mist.
Glancing at the veins bulging on the back of his hand, Ji Tingzhou understood.
Perhaps Ji Wanting wasn’t alive—maybe the problem lay within himself.
...
After a few laps outside to warm up, Ji Nian went to Zhiliao for her usual training session.
No matter what thoughts plagued her, the kid had already run off. Overthinking and speculating wouldn’t help.
Still, her focus wasn’t what it usually was, and within minutes, Zhiliao had punched her straight into the wall.
Despite knowing the girl was off today, Zhiliao didn’t go easy on her, making her hold a horse stance for an hour to clear her mind.
Ji Nian didn’t complain, falling into the familiar posture with muscle memory, even striking up a conversation.
"Zhiliao-jie, did Dad say anything?"
Zhiliao didn’t stop her from talking, shaking her head.
"He refused to talk."
Even when Zhiliao pressed him about what he had seen, he’d deftly changed the subject.
"Don’t worry about him. He’s stronger than you think."
Her dark eyes were unreadable, the harsh overhead light casting stark shadows over the terrifying scar on her cheek.
But Ji Nian didn’t find it unsettling—only reassuring.
"Mm."
While the girl was showering, someone seemed to have timed it perfectly, sending Zhiliao a message.
Reading the name of the person Ji Tingzhou wanted to meet, Zhiliao’s brow twitched slightly.
Though conflicted, she quickly relayed the order.
Before long, a plainly dressed man in gold-rimmed glasses and carrying a briefcase entered the Ji family’s estate.
Ji Tingzhou waited in a building some distance from the main residence.
As the man was led inside, he greeted with a smile, "President Ji, long time no see."
"Have you developed a new mental illness?"
...
Ji Nian had no idea there was a guest in the house, nor that her father—who she thought was asleep—wasn’t in his room at all.
She was in the lab, examining the improved version of the restorative serum, a collaboration between Bruce and the Chen Family’s pharmacists.
Why "improved"?
Because Ji Nian’s original formula was too costly for mass production, making it accessible only to the wealthy, far beyond the reach of ordinary people.
But her goal had always been to benefit the public, so she handed the modifications over to Bruce and the Chen Family.
Now, Ji Nian was working on something new.
Yes.
That serum that could make taste buds grow in the anus.
System: Don’t expect any moral boundaries from someone obsessed with turning hemorrhoids into bunny tails.
It wasn’t that Ji Nian had lost her mind—she genuinely hadn’t been joking when she’d first mentioned the idea.
Luckily, it was a day off, and Ji Nian wrapped up her research around bedtime.
Instead of heading straight to her room, she made a beeline for Ji Tingzhou’s.
Without knocking, she pushed the door open and walked in.
The blackout curtains blocked every trace of light, but Ji Nian navigated the darkness effortlessly, making her way to his bedside.
The bed held a distinct lump under the covers, and the closer she got, the stronger the sleep-inducing scent became—so potent it was making her drowsy too.
Listening to Ji Tingzhou’s steady breathing, she watched him for a while.
His eyes were closed, but moments later, as her footsteps faded, he opened them and turned over.
Only to meet a pair of glowing green eyes staring at him like a wolf pup in the dark.
Ji Tingzhou: "......"
"Heh."
"Got you. You were faking."
Expressionless, Ji Nian fumbled for the remote and turned on the bedside lamp.
The light outlined the girl crouched beside the bed.
"What are you doing here?"
Ji Tingzhou pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.
Ji Nian sat cross-legged on the carpet by his bed, swinging her feet.
"Then tell me why you can’t sleep."
Not to brag, but even after ten iced americanos, this incense should knock anyone out cold.
More effective than knockout drugs and perfectly harmless.
Ji Tingzhou stayed silent.
Ji Nian reached out and poked his cheek.
Then she delivered her verdict: "Yep, older people really do lose collagen."
Her finger met pronounced bone structure.
Eyes the same deep shade of jade-green as hers—only darker—narrowed dangerously as a hand shot out to pinch her cheek.
"Oh really?"
"Should I invite Zuo Yi over for New Year’s dinner without his glasses, so he mistakes your face for pork knuckle?"
Father and daughter stubbornly dug their fingers into each other’s cheeks, arms outstretched, squeezing with all their might.
Finally, Ji Nian sniffled, "I’m telling Uncle. You hit me."
Ji Tingzhou scoffed. "And then what? He’ll jump up and attack my knees?"
Ji Nian: No wonder Chen Mo always looks like he wants to bite you.
Totally understandable, Dad.
Ji Nian stormed off in a huff.
Watching her stomp away, Ji Tingzhou called after her, "Turn off the light."
Of course, Ji Nian ignored him.
Once the room plunged back into darkness, Ji Tingzhou lay awake, exhaustion weighing on him but sleep nowhere in sight as he stared blankly at the ceiling.
Soon, the door creaked open again.
Something entered and lobbed an object straight at his head.
A furry mass smacked him in the face. Without changing expression, Ji Tingzhou pulled it off.
He knew exactly what it was—after all, he’d stitched it together himself.
It was Da Dan.
Ji Nian had brought Da Dan over to keep him company.
