Chapter 15: School Bully (15)

Zai Qian’s new identification documents finally arrived in Zai Ye’s hands. Her name was officially registered as “Zai Qian.”

Before the registration, Mr. Zai Yan had called specifically, insisting on his right as grandfather to rename the child according to their family traditions.

Zai Ye bluntly refused him. When Mr. Zai Yan accused him of being unreasonable and flew into a rage, Zai Ye couldn’t be bothered to explain further.

The first time he saw this child, she was called Qian. She had nothing else—only this name. So it couldn’t be changed.

Along with the identification came the investigation results about the child’s background. They found no trace of Zai Qian’s birth mother, nor any record of her life over the past two years. It was as if she had materialized from thin air.

“If we can’t find anything, then let it be. Regardless of what happened, she’s my daughter now,” Zai Ye told Secretary Zhuo, who had delivered the documents. “Tell my father to stop the investigation.”

“Yes, I’ll relay that to the Chairman,” Secretary Zhuo replied, glancing at the little girl sprawled on the sofa reading picture books. Adjusting his glasses habitually, he added, “Also, the Chairman plans to hold a banquet to introduce Miss Qian to relatives and business partners.”

Zai Ye’s voice carried clear irritation as he crossed his arms. “What’s he plotting now? Tell him it’s unnecessary.”

After his parents’ divorce and as Zai Ye grew older, he had a massive falling-out with his father and insisted on moving out. In earlier years, he would still appear at family banquets during New Year’s, but eventually, he stopped attending altogether. Even relatives hadn’t seen the young master for years.

Secretary Zhuo looked troubled. “Young master, I believe the Chairman simply wants to get closer to his granddaughter.”

Zai Ye snorted coldly. “I’m afraid he’ll corrupt my daughter.”

Secretary Zhuo coughed lightly and lowered his voice. “Young master, you should still attend this banquet. Beyond introducing Miss Qian, the Chairman intends to allocate company shares to her. If she doesn’t attend, what rightfully belongs to her might fall into the wrong hands.”

Zai Ye studied him carefully. His relationship with Secretary Zhuo was better than with his father. After all, whenever he got into trouble, it was Secretary Zhuo who handled things. When he was hospitalized, it was Secretary Zhuo who arranged for caregivers and visited—he was like an uncle who had watched Zai Ye grow up.

Secretary Zhuo’s last comment, though overstepping, was meant as a personal warning.

Zai Ye sighed. “…Understood. I’ll bring her.”

At that moment, he finally understood why his mother had fought so fiercely for his rights during the divorce. He personally didn’t care for Zai Yan’s companies or the coveted young master status that his half-brother desperately wanted. If he had, he wouldn’t have lived these years distanced from the family. While he could disregard these things for himself, the thought of someone stealing what belonged to his daughter made his blood boil. No one would take what was hers.

After Secretary Zhuo left, Zai Ye looked at the child on the sofa. She had fallen asleep on her open book, her face squished against the pages like flattened dough with drool trickling from the corner of her mouth.

By now, Zai Ye was skilled at gently lifting her head with one hand, wiping away the drool, and replacing the book with a small pillow.

While she slept, he sat cross-legged on the floor before the sofa, gaming with headphones on. After two matches, the focused Zai Ye suddenly received a “surprise attack”—a foot kicked his back. Looking back, he found she had rolled over in her sleep. He moved her lotus root-like leg back onto the sofa, but soon felt something else bump against him. Glancing back between games, he saw she had pressed her head against his back.

The new sofa was indeed softer than the old one, but it wasn’t as large, making it easy for a child to roll off while sleeping. The child herself had changed too. When she first arrived, she slept quietly, curled up in one spot all night. But now she slept more wildly, often sprawling out in a starfish position.

On weekends, Zai Ye gave Aunt Wu time off, leaving just father and daughter at home. Zai Qian slept until dusk while Zai Ye spent the afternoon gaming in front of the sofa. Feeling movement behind him as she sat up, Zai Ye said, “Go wash your face yourself. We’ll get dinner.”

“Mmm…” The child obediently climbed down and went to the bathroom.

Seeing her messy bed hair, Zai Ye set down his phone and followed. He watched as she pulled out the stool from under the sink, skillfully washed her face and even brushed her hair with a small comb.

“Wait, face cream,” Zai Ye stopped her as she prepared to jump down.

Applying face cream after washing was something his mother, Wen Ling, had insisted upon. The face creams, shower gels, and the shampoos Zai Qian used now were all bought by her. Mrs. Wen particularly enjoyed buying things for the child, often bringing bags full of items.

One hand steadying her head, the other applying cream, he massaged her face in circular motions. His single hand could cover her entire face. “Done,” Zai Ye finished, noting how the children’s face cream scent now clung to him.

Noticing some hair still sticking up at the back of her head, Zai Ye brushed it a few more times. The child’s hair was fine and soft, unlike his coarser strands.

After finishing the grooming routine, the child suddenly took the comb and said in her crisp voice: “Brush hair.”

“It’s already brushed. Look in the mirror,” Zai Ye replied.

But she tugged at him insistently until he realized she wanted to brush his hair. Crouching down, he let her rake the comb through his hair, making it even messier, but he didn’t mind.

Together they went out to find food.

Weekends were for indulging her preferences, including less healthy foods, followed by leisurely strolls. Unlike his past late-night wanderings with friends or alone, these walks had purpose. With a child, he couldn’t space out—she might get lost if he wasn’t paying attention.

Holding her hand, he matched her small, unhurried steps. When they encountered dog walkers in the park, she showed no fear, instead stopping to stare at the large dogs. The owners, seeing her curiosity, would smile and say, “It’s okay, you can pet them. They’re very gentle.”

The fluffy dogs would perk up their ears and wag their tails, their round eyes meeting those of the child who stood at their height. These encounters made Zai Ye reflect—the owners were walking their furry children while he walked his child.

Her presence made him unexpectedly popular. This was quite different from when he walked alone, or worse, with his gang, when people would deliberately avoid them.

At the park vendor selling glowing toys, her eyes lit up. “Light up!” she exclaimed, pulling his hand. Soon she clutched magic wand-like toys in both hands, her head adorned with light-up butterfly clips Zai Ye had bought. The wings would flutter with her movements until, tired, she rested against his shoulder.

The day before the family banquet, Secretary Zhuo delivered formal wear and accessories, including a heavy jeweled tiara that Zai Ye found ridiculous. “Want to wear this?” he asked, placing it on her head. She blinked, tilted her head, and the crown crashed to the floor. “Then we won’t,” he said, tossing it back in its box.

At the banquet, despite his casual attire, they became the center of attention. When Zai Shengyu, his illegitimate brother, made a pointed comment about the child’s missing mother, Zai Ye didn’t hesitate. Taking a wine glass from nearby, he threw its contents in Shengyu’s face. “If you can’t speak properly, keep your mouth shut.”

Looking at his father’s mistress, he commanded, “Su Xi, take your son to change and keep him in his room.”

As the disgraced mother and son left, everyone remembered how this young master gave face to no one, not even his father. For a moment, the crowd fell silent. Zai Ye carried his daughter through them, his mood soured just by being here. Feeling her gaze on him, he gently rubbed her head, a quiet gesture of reassurance.