"Your Highness."
A middle-aged man in a crisp suit, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement, gazed at the golden-haired young man before him. Clad in pristine ethnic attire and crowned with a golden diadem, the youth resembled a saint descended from heaven.
His silver-gray eyes, pure and gentle, rested on the visibly overjoyed man as he spoke softly, "Hello."
"Thank you for your years of dedication to this project."
The sincere praise left the man feeling lightheaded. Before he could respond that it was his duty, the golden-haired young man had already reached out, pinning the medal of honor to his chest.
Watching the man walk off the stage in a daze, Lu Jinghuai lowered his hand and smiled at the cameras fixed intently on him.
Viewers watching the live broadcast of the awards ceremony instinctively returned the smile to the young prince they had watched grow up.
The royal family’s spokesperson—noble yet gentle—had returned from studying abroad in China with an added touch of classical elegance. He was the pride of the O Nation, the jewel in their hearts.
The jewel himself, having concluded his duties for the day, retreated to his private lounge under the escort of bodyguards. His first act was to pull out his phone.
At the sight of the red notification dot atop his pinned contact’s chat, his already tender expression softened further.
"Did you wear the gift I sent you?"
Lu Jinghuai’s gaze shifted from the screen as he lifted the hem of his seemingly simple yet intricately embroidered golden robe.
The man who had just received the medal, now on the phone with his wife and daughter, would never have imagined that beneath the saintly prince’s immaculate robes lay a cozy, fleece-lined beige thermal undershirt.
With one hand holding up his robe, Lu Jinghuai used the other to snap a photo of the undershirt. After ensuring the shot included a glimpse of his abs, he sent it over.
For good measure, he added a second photo—his pant leg tugged up to reveal a pair of fluffy socks.
The gray-and-white red panda socks clashed hilariously with his handcrafted, gold-embroidered shoes.
Ji Nian couldn’t help but laugh unapologetically at the sight.
She had bought those socks herself—19.9 for two pairs at a stall outside the panda exhibit. She kept one pair and gave the other to Lu Jinghuai.
Seated at her office desk, Ji Nian wiped her mouth with a tissue as she finished the lunch delivered by her assistant. Pushing off with her legs, she wheeled her chair back, lifted one foot, and snapped a photo of her own matching red panda socks to send in reply.
The response came swiftly: "Just the socks? [puppy eyes]"
Ji Nian kicked off her slipper, peeled off the sock, and sent a few more shots.
"And toes."
[Toes forming a heart emoji]
Lu Jinghuai: "……"
Well, that worked too.
Just as Ji Nian debated calling her hardworking sweetheart, her assistant knocked on the door.
The assistant, a sharp and efficient young woman, entered with rare tension in her expression. "Dr. Ji, the investor is here."
Ji Nian stiffened reflexively.
Shoveling the last bites of her meal into her mouth, she stood. "Alert the cleaning team!"
"Have them bring all equipment and start sanitizing from the entrance. And don’t forget the security guard and his dog."
Understanding the gravity, the assistant nodded firmly.
The usually tranquil research institute buzzed to life after lunch.
A newcomer watched the flurry of activity in confusion. "Who is this investor? I just saw Dr. Ji looking dead serious, personally overseeing progress."
A veteran researcher shot him a knowing glance. "You’ll see soon enough."
The cryptic reply only deepened the mystery—how would he "see"?
Thirty minutes later, the answer arrived.
The newcomer, mingling among the helpers, gaped as the investor stepped out of his car flanked by a towering, muscular bodyguard.
The man wore a black robe of antique design, his jet-black hair framing eyes like dark emeralds.
The unmistakable hue of those eyes stunned the newcomer, who nearly wrenched his neck whipping around to stare at the approaching figure.
The veteran smacked the back of his head. "Snap out of it."
Rubbing his head, the newcomer whispered his revelation: "The investor is Dr. Ji’s brother."
The veteran smirked but stayed silent.
Ji Nian led the entourage forward. At the sight of that familiar face, she suppressed the urge to twitch her lips and greeted politely, "Chairman Ji."
Ji Tingzhou lifted an impassive brow. Behind him, Wei Yang—equally stone-faced and intimidating—shot her a quick, exaggerated wink before resuming his stern expression so fast only Ji Nian caught it.
Ji Nian promptly corrected herself. "Dad."
The crisp, clear "Dad" echoed for all to hear.
The newcomer, who had mistaken the investor for Ji Nian’s brother, nearly choked.
As the usually stoic Dr. Ji ushered the investor inside like royalty, he finally blurted, "What?!"
"Dad?!"
You’re telling me that wrinkle-free, raven-haired, upright, and identical hunk is Dr. Ji’s father?!
No way.
"Did Dr. Ji secretly develop an immortality elixir for her dad?" he muttered.
Amid the crowd, Ji Tingzhou suddenly remarked to Ji Nian, "That kid with hair like he got blasted by a fart has potential."
Ji Nian: "……"
Damn it. Why did her dad always say things no one else would think of—yet were undeniably, horrifyingly accurate—making it impossible to ever see the person the same way again?
How was she supposed to face "fart-blasted hair kid" now without laughing? So much for her authority as Dr. Ji!
And why the sudden visit anyway?
Ji Nian shot a glance at Wei Yang.
Reading her silent question (to him, Ji Nian would always be a kid), Wei Yang returned a look that said: What can I do? Your dad missed you.
Ji Nian coughed lightly.
Honestly, she’d be home for dinner tonight. Why was her father so clingy?
She threw a teasing look at Ji Tingzhou.
Yet warmth bloomed in her chest all the same.
Noticing her gaze, Ji Tingzhou glanced back, puzzled.
He wondered if Desperate Dad: Collector’s Edition DVD was still where he’d left it last time.
With Ji Nian grown and spending less time with him, Ji Tingzhou couldn’t help but feel lonely. But he’d never admit it outright, resorting to excuses like this to visit. The thought tugged at her heartstrings.
So she poked her father and whispered to him, "If you get bored later, just go to my office and play on the computer. I found a DVD of Desperate Dad the other day—no idea which big dummy left it behind, hahaha! Since no one claimed it, you might as well watch it."
The big dummy in question, Ji Tingzhou himself: "……"
