Zhou Nian was a second-generation rich kid, a genuine one. His grandfather’s generation belonged to the working class, earning meager wages, blood and sweat money. They struggled to send his father to a prestigious university. His father, living up to expectations, became a self-made millionaire within a couple of years of graduating, riding the wave of every emerging industry and becoming a regular on the national rich lists.

Once people have money, even distant relatives become incredibly enthusiastic. Zhou Nian, raised by his grandparents, had extensive experience dealing with these opportunistic relatives. He’d long understood the concept of a “diamond bachelor” and knew his father was a prime example of a “golden bachelor.”

In the words of his maternal great-aunt’s third sister-in-law, “Young, rich, tall, handsome, and self-made—a man like that would be second only to the Monkey King on Flower-Fruit Mountain!”

Hearing this kind of praise often, Zhou Nian understood his father was very popular with women and was prepared for the possibility of a stepmother.

Although people constantly warned him about the potential downsides of having a stepmother—a step-father, step-siblings, and the misery that would follow—Zhou Nian was a sensible child, never obstructing his father’s search for a partner.

He genuinely felt his father was lonely and that finding a caring and gentle wife, and having more lively and adorable children, would create a warm and bustling family. His father earned enough money that supporting a larger family wouldn’t be a problem.

Yet, eighteen years passed, he’d reached adulthood, and his father remained alone. Zhou Nian knew his father couldn’t let go of his deceased mother.

Thinking about it, his father was only twenty when he was born, not even legally old enough to marry, yet he decided to have a child. The depth of their love was unimaginable.

Seeing online posts about losing a loved one at the peak of their love made Zhou Nian cry.

However, even the deepest grief should fade after eighteen years. Zhou Nian believed his father, at his age, deserved a loving companion.

Conveniently, there was a suitable candidate: his high school Chinese teacher. She was elegant and refined, intelligent and cultured, thirty-two years old, in her prime, from an academic family (both parents were professors). Crucially, reliable sources indicated she’d been single for many years, a virtuous and well-educated mature woman who Zhou Nian felt was a perfect match for his handsome and wealthy father.

The only problem was how to broach the subject of matchmaking.

Honestly, Zhou Nian was quite intimidated by Zhou Tingzhi. Raised by his grandparents, he wasn’t close to his father. Whenever he misbehaved, his grandparents would call Zhou Tingzhi to discipline him. Over time, he developed a natural apprehension towards his father.

Despite this, matchmaking was urgent. Zhou Tingzhi was turning thirty-eight. While only a year’s difference, thirty-eight sounded like a powerful CEO, while thirty-nine had a more “middle-aged businessman” vibe—a significant difference.

Zhou Nian aimed to resolve his father’s personal life before he turned thirty-nine.

His best friend, Li Lequan, commented, “You’re worrying about nothing. You just want your dad to get you a stepmother and some younger siblings to compete with you for the inheritance, right?”

Zhou Nian scoffed, “You’re so vulgar, narrow-minded, and ugly.”

Li Lequan retorted, “Fine, fine. I’m vulgar, narrow-minded, and ugly. You’re noble, generous, and beautiful.”

Zhou Nian did indeed possess striking beauty, resembling his father with exceptionally striking brows and eyes, a handsome and charming look, expressive eyes, a high and delicate nose, and full lips. His fair complexion and impeccable style made him look like a life-sized BJD doll.

This beautiful and accomplished rich kid, with excellent grades, was a true prodigy, yet he lacked any arrogance. He merely had a bit of a spoiled brat attitude.

Li Lequan, understanding his friend’s character, didn’t argue, “So, noble and generous one, how do you plan to set up your father?”

Zhou Nian sighed, “If only my grandparents were still alive.”

“They tried to arrange things for your father when they were alive, but it was all in vain.”

“Why are you always pouring cold water on me? First, you say I’m worrying about nothing, then it’s all in vain. What’s the meaning?”

Li Lequan grinned, “Don’t rush. I think you’ve been poisoned by your grandparents’ old-fashioned ideas. It’s 2020. Does marriage guarantee happiness? Staying single is great. Look at my uncle. Since his divorce, he’s always with different women—young and beautiful. He claims they’re just friends. That’s called an ‘open relationship.'”

Zhou Nian looked at him with disdain, “You’re the one poisoned by your uncle’s modern ideas. My father isn’t like your uncle. If he were, why would I bother? I’m not an idiot.”

Li Lequan, with the air of someone who’s been around the block, said, “All men are the same. I don’t believe your father has remained faithful to your mother all these years, unless he has some kind of…condition.”

Zhou Nian’s eyes widened, looking ready to pounce, “Your father has a condition!”

Li Lequan patted his shoulder, speaking earnestly, “I know, in your eyes, your father is perfect, but be honest, do such people exist?”

Zhou Nian hesitated but remained firm, “At least in matters of the heart, my father is different from your uncle and other ordinary men.”

Li Lequan found arguing with a naive child pointless, shaking his head, “Ordinary men lack spiritual pursuits. My uncle isn’t ordinary; he had an unforgettable first love, a truly profound and passionate relationship.”

Zhou Nian immediately changed the subject, “Really? Your uncle?”

Li Lequan smirked, “Sounds unbelievable, right? I’m telling you the truth. I saw a photo of his first love in his room when I was a kid. She was incredibly beautiful.”

Their conversation drifted off-topic. Zhou Nian checked the time—almost 8 PM. “Hey, call me a car. I need to go home early.”

“You don’t have school tomorrow. Why go back so early? I was hoping to play some Call of Duty with you.”

“My dad’s not very busy lately. He comes home around 7 or 8 every night. Going home early saves him from calling to ask where I am.”

Zhou Tingzhi wasn’t a responsible father. He was busy with work when Zhou Nian was young, and his grandparents raised him, showering him with love and spoiling him. After their deaths, Zhou Nian returned to his father, who became strict and disciplined. This extreme shift in parenting styles during adolescence didn’t turn Zhou Nian into a rebellious child, thanks to his respect and admiration for his father.

At 8 PM sharp, Zhou Nian hurried home, seeing a black Rolls-Royce parked in the yard—his father was back. His heart fluttered.

Before he could enter, the housekeeper, Qin Yi, peeked out, beckoning him.

Qin Yi had cared for Zhou Nian for many years, like a family member. Especially after his grandparents’ passing, their bond deepened. Seeing her secretive demeanor, he lowered his voice, “Qin Yi, what’s wrong?”