After saying this, Ji Nian expected him to call her cheesy or glare at her in disgust.
Instead, Ji Tingzhou asked:
"Just me, not Chen Mo?"
Ji Nian: "……"
Enough already.
"Just you."
She repeated it with a tone of exasperation.
After all, Ji Nian and Chen Mo had been master and servant in her past life, and uncle and niece in this one.
Ji Tingzhou looked satisfied.
He had a rough idea of what Ji Nian was referring to.
If it had been Ji Tingzhou from a few years ago, he probably wouldn’t have believed it.
But now, as he recalled his first meeting with Ji Nian, he couldn’t help but feel that fate had played its hand.
At the same time, he remembered what Ji Wanting had said years ago—that Ji Nian wasn’t really his child.
"……Utter nonsense."
Of course, Ji Wanting might not have been lying. She might have genuinely believed Ji Nian was Qianqian, especially after learning about her talent in pharmacology. Her first thought had been that the girl must have inherited it from that madman.
Rumored to have once been a genius in his field, he had later become a shadow of his former self. Ji Wanting assumed Qianqian had simply inherited his gifts.
Ji Nian sensed there was more to his words and sat up to ask. Only then did she learn that Ji Tingzhou had known about this all along.
But it seemed he hadn’t believed Ji Wanting.
A warmth spread through Ji Nian’s heart. This was so like Ji Tingzhou—if she had been in his place, she might not have been so resolute.
"……Dad."
Touched by how much he trusted her, Ji Nian couldn’t help but call out to him.
Ji Tingzhou responded, "No other kid could poop in a heart shape."
Ji Nian: "……"
The tender moment was instantly ruined.
Before she could complain, Ji Tingzhou poured himself a cup of tea and asked, "So, do you remember where you were during those five years you disappeared?"
He paused.
"Did you learn how to make medicine there?"
He had wondered about this for years. He’d even invested in research projects on parallel worlds and higher dimensions, though so far, it had all been a waste of money. But Ji Tingzhou didn’t care, as long as he got the answers he wanted.
He’d had many theories about Ji Nian’s inexplicable talent.
But none held up—no matter how he analyzed it, he couldn’t understand how she’d mastered those skills in just five years.
Ji Nian lifted her chin slightly. "Yeah."
After eighteen years, she finally let go of her deepest defenses and revealed her most guarded secret to Ji Tingzhou.
"Actually, when I first came here, I wasn’t five years old."
Ji Tingzhou’s hand stilled as he poured tea, his gaze sharpening.
"I was twenty-five. I’d lived there for twenty-five years."
Due to the difference in time flow, even though the two worlds shared similar civilizations, the other world’s technological advancements far surpassed this one’s.
Understanding flashed in Ji Tingzhou’s eyes.
So that was it.
No wonder.
Ji Nian had expected him to ask how she could shamelessly act like a spoiled child with the mentality of a twenty-something.
But instead, Ji Tingzhou was thinking about how Ji Nian must have seen through her precarious position in this household from the start. New to this world, she’d had to carefully navigate her survival, yet she’d still risked exposing her pharmacological skills to help Wei Yang.
The thought made Ji Tingzhou deeply uncomfortable.
Ji Nian had returned to her own home, yet she’d had to tread on eggshells the entire time.
"Come here."
Ji Tingzhou motioned for her to move closer. When she did, he pulled her into an embrace without hesitation, patting her back.
Ji Nian blinked twice, realizing he was feeling guilty.
"I’m fine. Those twenty-something years weren’t so bad, actually."
She even joked, "In terms of age, I’m older than you. How about this—I’ll call you Dad, and you call me Sis. We’ll each stick to our own titles."
Ji Tingzhou smirked humorlessly. "The last person I called ‘Sis’ has a grave so overgrown, the weeds are taller than you."
Ji Nian, remembering Ji Wanting: "……"
Alright, never mind.
Ji Tingzhou asked her many more questions—mostly about her life in that world, how her family had treated her, and so on.
Ji Nian said her parents there had been good to her.
This was, of course, a lie.
It was all in the past, and she didn’t want Ji Tingzhou to feel upset. Even if he got angry, there was nothing he could do—they were separated by an entire world.
Ji Tingzhou could tell she wasn’t being truthful.
If her parents there had truly treated her well, why did Ji Nian show no attachment to them?
She must have suffered.
After unburdening herself of her biggest secret, Ji Nian walked out feeling lighter than air.
[I don’t hate them anymore.]
She was referring to her parents from that world.
Once she learned she wasn’t their real child, she’d let go of all the resentment from the past.
Hate was an exhausting emotion, and the people she’d once despised hadn’t even cared about her. They weren’t her real parents—what was the point of love or hate?
When Zhiliao and Wei Yang returned, they brought her some snacks.
Ji Tingzhou, disdainful of outside food, didn’t touch any. He simply watched as Ji Nian happily stuffed her face. When she noticed Wei Yang had finished his portion, she shared some of hers with him.
Ji Tingzhou thought, How could anyone be so blind?
How could they fail to cherish such a good child?
At the same time, he felt a pang of jealousy.
Jealous that those two had witnessed Ji Nian’s most innocent childhood years.
And worse—they might have neglected her emotional needs when she’d needed love the most.
People like that didn’t deserve to be parents.
Wei Yang, mid-bite, suddenly felt his hair stand on end.
He glanced over at Ji Tingzhou, who was radiating silent menace despite sitting perfectly still. Hesitantly, Wei Yang pulled the half-eaten snack from his mouth.
Seriously? He’d only taken one bite of Ji Nian’s food, and Ji Tingzhou was this mad?
"Uh… want it back?"
He tentatively offered the saliva-coated snack.
Ji Nian wrinkled her nose. "No thanks."
Zhiliao shot Wei Yang a look. "Just eat it yourself."
Wei Yang stuffed it back into his mouth—only to sense Ji Tingzhou’s mood darkening further.
"Who pissed off my brother this time?"
He muttered in confusion.
...
When Ji Tingzhou was unhappy, everyone else suffered.
For instance, he spent the next few days frequently picking fights with Chen Mo. When Chen Mo couldn’t take it anymore, he flew to Country O to take his frustrations out on Lu Zhi. Lu Zhi, assuming Ji Tingzhou was still angry about Ji Nian and Lu Jinghuai, endured it out of guilt—until he couldn’t anymore and ran to his wife for help.
After returning from Country O, Ji Tingzhou didn’t go home. Instead, he disappeared into a remote mountain temple. No one knew what he did there, but when he came back, he tossed Ji Nian a red string bracelet adorned with jade beads.
Rumored to have soul-stabilizing properties, but according to Chen Mo—who knew a thing or two—it was more than that.
For instance, it was a blessed talisman. In the local customs of the place Ji Tingzhou had visited, such bracelets were traditionally given by family to young children for protection.
The next day, when Ji Tingzhou saw the red string around Ji Nian’s wrist, the lingering gloom in his heart finally eased a little.
As for the rest of his anger—well, that would have to be taken out on a certain madman.
Thinking of the man locked in his basement, Ji Tingzhou’s fingers itched.
...
Spring passed into autumn, and time flew by in the blink of an eye.
Ji Nian had now become a senior high school student.
On the day the college entrance exams finally ended, Ji Tingzhou, Chen Mo, Zhiliao, Wei Yang—and even Gu Xiuyuan and Shen Qingtang, who had taken leave to return—all came to celebrate.
Wei Yang even carried a plush toy of Da Dan in his arms.
Together, they stood outside the school gates, waiting for Ji Nian.
