Chapter 7: Father, You’re So Wasteful!

“Take this and brew it.” Feng Xiaohan handed the medicine to Qing’an. 

“Yes, Your Highness.” Qing’an accepted the package and left to prepare the decoction. 

Feng Xiaohan decided it was time to demonstrate his martial prowess in front of the little runt. 

— 

‘‘In the Corridor’’ 

Qing’an carefully tended to the simmering medicine, his mind occupied by the Regent Prince’s recent odd behavior. 

‘Excessive drowsiness, unexplained bouquets of flowers, and now medicine… Who is this “little runt” His Highness keeps mentioning?’ 

“Qing’an?” Wenshu approached, arms laden with memorials, noticing his friend’s absentmindedness. 

“Ah, delivering reports? His Highness is inside.” Qing’an snapped back to attention. 

“What’s troubling you?” Wenshu asked. 

“…Do you think His Highness has been acting strangely lately?” Qing’an lowered his voice. 

“Strangely?” Wenshu glanced at him, then mentally reviewed the prince’s recent conduct. 

“He’s been unusually lethargic and distracted.” 

“Exactly!” Qing’an’s eyes brightened—so he wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

“Do you think… someone might have poisoned him? Or worse, planted a gu?” 

The southern tribes were notorious for their venomous curses—subtle, insidious, and deadly. 

“…It’s possible,” Wenshu conceded after a thoughtful pause. 

“The eldest young miss will return soon. We should inform her.” 

“Agreed.” 

Having settled on a plan, Wenshu carried the memorials inside. 

— 

‘‘Meanwhile’’ 

After finishing her odd jobs, Yu Yu returned to her bamboo cottage to change clothes before visiting her father. 

‘‘[Yu Yu, there’s a mission.]’’ Administrator Hua’s voice chimed in her mind. 

“What mission?” Yu Yu perked up. 

‘‘[Well… There’s someone suffering from melancholy. Your task is to cheer him up.]’’ 

“What’s… melon-coaly?” Yu Yu tilted her head. 

‘‘[Melancholy means deep sadness—the kind that makes people hurt themselves.]’’ 

“How can Yu Yu help?” 

‘‘[That’s for you to figure out!]’’ 

“Okay~!” Yu Yu nodded eagerly. 

With a few adjustments from Administrator Hua, another name appeared in Yu Yu’s system connections: 

‘‘Jiang Gu.’’ 

‘‘[Good luck!]’’ Hua cheered. 

“Mm-hmm!” 

Yu Yu first stopped by Sister Wisteria’s to collect flowers. 

— 

‘‘Regent Prince’s Mansion’’ 

“Father~ Yu Yu’s here!” 

The familiar little voice drifted in. Feng Xiaohan pretended not to care, meticulously polishing his sword with a cloth—though the corners of his mouth betrayed a faint upward twitch. 

“You’re here,” he said flatly. 

“Yu Yu came right after work! Father, these flowers are for you!” She proudly thrust a large bouquet toward him. 

“Do you like them?” 

Feng Xiaohan eyed the yellow blooms, secretly pleased. ‘So the little runt did understand my hint after all.’ 

“They’re… tolerable. Barely worth looking at,” he sniffed. 

“Father doesn’t like yellow?” Yu Yu clambered onto a stool, stretching for the pastries. 

“Not particularly. But they’re… acceptable.” His tone remained haughty. 

“Okay! Next time, Yu Yu will pick a different color!” She took a bite of a pastry, then frowned—it wasn’t to her taste. 

She promptly offered it to her father. 

“Father, eat this!” 

Feng Xiaohan stared at the half-eaten pastry. 

“Keep it.” ‘How filial—testing the food for me first.’ 

“No, this one’s for Father!” She insistently pushed it toward him before grabbing a different pastry. 

‘Mmm! This one’s delicious!’ Her eyes sparkled. 

Feng Xiaohan watched as she devoured the chestnut cake but left the dates cake untouched. 

‘Ah. So she’s giving me the rejects.’ 

‘…Do I even want this child anymore?’ 

‘Ahem.’ He cleared his throat pointedly. 

Yu Yu looked up. 

‘Hm? Is Father unwell again?’ 

‘Better visit Brother Medical Immortal for more medicine… Father’s constitution is so frail.’ 

Seizing her attention, Feng Xiaohan gripped his sword. 

With a surge of inner energy—’snap!’—the blade split cleanly in two. 

‘See? Weak? Hardly.’ 

“Father, why did the sword break? Was it poorly made?” Yu Yu scratched her cheek. 

‘Sigh… Father’s sword is so cheap. I’ll save up to buy him a better one.’ 

“No. This sword was impeccably forged. I severed it with my inner energy.” Feng Xiaohan smirked. 

‘Well? Impressed?’ 

Yu Yu frowned at her father, her little face scrunched up in disapproval. 

“Father, you’re so wasteful!” 

That sword cost money! 

“Yu Yu thought it was just poor quality, but turns out Father is just extravagant. Yu Yu was going to buy you a new sword…” 

“Actually… this sword wasn’t that well-made either,” Feng Xiaohan hastily amended, eyeing the broken pieces. 

So she should still buy him a new one. 

“Oh.” Yu Yu ignored her spendthrift father and grabbed an orange, plopping it into his hand. 

“Father, peel this for me.” 

Feng Xiaohan blinked. 

It had been years since anyone dared order him around. 

His slender fingers began peeling the fruit as Yu Yu sat swinging her legs, waiting. 

Once peeled, he handed her the segments—only for her to split them evenly between them. 

Father and daughter ate their orange halves in companionable silence. 

“Father, you can keep being wasteful. Yu Yu will earn money for you to spend,” she declared solemnly, big eyes shining with determination. 

Even if Father wasted money, he was still her father. 

She would work hard to fund his extravagance—her father, her responsibility. 

Feng Xiaohan studied her chubby cheeks and earnest gaze. 

Was this… what it felt like to be doted on? 

“…Mn. Understood.” He turned his face away, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. 

This little runt was dangerously good at sweet-talking. 

“Father should rest early. Yu Yu’s going home now.” She hopped down, clutching two golden oranges. 

“Mn.” He nodded. 

As Yu Yu left, darkness seeped back into Feng Xiaohan’s world. 

— 

‘‘Elsewhere’’ 

Instead of returning to her bamboo cottage, Yu Yu first bought flowers from Sister Wisteria, then headed to Jiang Gu’s residence. 

The young man lay tangled in sweat-damp sheets, forehead beaded with perspiration as nightmares gripped him. 

“Brother?” Yu Yu poked his cheek. 

“Brother?” 

Jiang Gu startled awake to find a child looming over him. 

“Who are you?” His voice rasped from disuse. 

“I’m Wuyu!  as in ‘no worries, may you live in peace and joy forever!’” She announced proudly—Father had chosen this name, so she’d say it loud and clear!

“Carefree?” His gentle features twisted bitterly. “What do you want?” 

“What’s ‘want’?” She scratched her cheek, perplexed. 

Jiang Gu scoffed. Playing dumb? 

A coughing fit seized him. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief, though his sharp gaze never left her—wary and hostile. 

How had she gotten in? 

Pat-pat-pat. Yu Yu toddled off and climbed onto a stool to pour tea. 

“Brother, drink this.” 

Jiang Gu eyed the cup suspiciously. 

“Brother?” She tilted her head. Didn’t he want tea? 

After sniffing it (was it poisoned?), he accepted the cup. 

Maybe death would bring relief. 

Yu Yu shook out her sore little arms. ‘So heavy!’ 

“Brother, do you feel better now?” 

“Who sent you?” he demanded. 

“Hua-hua!” 

Before Jiang Gu could ask who that was, a voice echoed in his mind: 

‘‘[System binding complete. Relationship: Siblings.]’’ 

A translucent screen materialized before him: 

‘‘[Current Level: 1]’’ 

Jiang Gu gaped at the apparition. What sorcery was this? 

Yu Yu took advantage of his shock to rummage through her pouch. 

“Brother, these are for you!” 

She presented a bouquet of delicate blue blossoms, their star-like petals blooming in melancholic beauty. 

“…What flowers are these?” The question slipped out despite himself. 

— 

‘‘(A/N: The System’s matchmaking strikes again! Jiang Gu never stood a chance against our little sunshine.)’’