Jiang Xunyu’s emotions were restrained and controlled. His deep blue eyes looked at Ji Yuzhou for a few seconds before he forcefully held back the mist gathering in them.

He lowered his head and murmured softly, almost inaudibly, “Thank you…”

Ji Yuzhou reached out to untie the beautiful bow on the cake box, intentionally steering away from the emotional topic. “Try it and see if it tastes good.”

The silky bow slipped from his palm as his long fingers picked up a knife and cut a small slice of cake for Jiang Xunyu. The triangular piece, adorned with two perfectly ripe strawberries, looked almost too good to be real.

Jiang Xunyu took the cake and had a bite. The sweetness spread across his mouth. He wasn’t actually fond of cake. Back when his family bought cakes, it was mostly his sweet-toothed mother who ended up eating them. But now, the flavor seemed oddly addictive. He ate quickly, stuffing his mouth full.

Unknowingly, tears began to pool again. Keeping his head low, he blinked rapidly to stop them from falling onto the cake.

Ji Yuzhou also cut himself a piece and took a bite with a fork.

The cloying sweetness was just as unpleasant as he’d remembered.

Yet he continued to take small bites, eating alongside Jiang Xunyu until his piece was gone.

Jiang Xunyu soon set down his plate. Ji Yuzhou handed him a tissue. “Do you want more?”

Jiang Xunyu shook his head. His emotions had stabilized compared to earlier, no longer needing to swallow his childhood memories with each bite.

He wiped the corners of his eyes with the tissue. Now that he’d calmed down, he felt a little embarrassed about his earlier outburst in front of Ji Yuzhou. “Thank you, Mr. Ji… I just suddenly thought about my parents, they—”

“It’s okay,” Ji Yuzhou interrupted him, unwilling to let him dwell on the past. “There will be more birthdays in the future. I’ll spend them with you.”

The words slipped from his lips, and Ji Yuzhou remembered the original reason he had taken Jiang Xunyu in. For a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt. The deception and manipulation he practiced on battlefields and in negotiations didn’t faze him, but now, faced with this young man, he found himself disliking his own insincerity. He almost chuckled at the irony.

Jiang Xunyu bit his lip as if wanting to say something more but eventually swallowed his words.

“…Thank you, Mr. Ji.”

…..

Ji Yuzhou initially planned to learn more about Jiang Xunyu, but only a few days later, a serious pirate attack occurred on the outskirts of his jurisdiction. He had no choice but to go handle the investigation and offer condolences, which dragged on for over two months.

By the time he returned, winter had set in. Snow had fallen a few days prior, and the tree branches along the roads were still laden with unmelting frost.

His office was located deep within the corps’ base. To reach the sentry post, one had to pass by the student training grounds. As Ji Yuzhou’s car drove past, he noticed a group of students practicing shooting.

Of course, Jiang Xunyu wasn’t among them. Ji Yuzhou had granted him special permission to skip practical photon gun courses, substituting them with other electives instead.

Still, he couldn’t help but glance a little longer at the students, engrossed in their training.

The pirate group’s activities had grown increasingly rampant. Ji Yuzhou often had to work late into the night and even lead confrontations on the front lines, leaving little time for personal matters.

He could only occasionally check in with the househelp robot about Jiang Xunyu—whether he was eating and sleeping properly—but he couldn’t spare attention for much more.

Now, seeing the vibrant, energetic students on the training field, Ji Yuzhou couldn’t help but wonder: had the boy grown taller? Gained a little weight? He’d been too skinny before—so thin that holding him once had been almost uncomfortable.

Jiang Xunyu was now eighteen. Since he was still in school, Ji Yuzhou remained his legal guardian, but he hadn’t shown much care or attention recently. Feeling a pang of guilt, he returned to his office, tidied up briefly, and contacted the head of the school.

Coincidentally, Jiang Xunyu’s homeroom teacher, Teacher Ran, was free that day. About three hours later, she arrived at Ji Yuzhou’s office.

“Please, have a seat.”

Ji Yuzhou gestured toward the sofa and personally poured her a cup of tea.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered. Despite his attempt to appear approachable, Ji Yuzhou’s natural aura of authority and icy demeanor were intimidating. As a fresh graduate with only two years of teaching experience, Ms. Ran was visibly nervous. Her hand trembled slightly as she accepted the cup, nearly spilling the scalding tea.

“No need to be nervous.”

Ji Yuzhou sat on the opposite sofa. “I just want to know how Xunyu is doing.”

Ms. Ran took a deep breath, clutching the warm paper cup as if it were a lifeline. She described Jiang Xunyu’s school life in detail, leaving nothing out.

Jiang Xunyu had adapted better than Ji Yuzhou expected.

The students in the military academy were smart. The school valued capability above all else. In the past few monthly exams, Jiang Xunyu’s grades weren’t at the top, but he showed significant improvement each time. Ms. Ran had even praised him in class multiple times.

At this point, Ms. Ran hesitated, glancing at Ji Yuzhou with cautious sincerity. “I genuinely think he’s made great progress. It’s not because of your influence.”

“I know.”

A faint smile appeared on Ji Yuzhou’s face.

Relaxing slightly, Ms. Ran continued her account. After the troublesome student who’d previously caused issues was transferred, the other students were curious about Jiang Xunyu but didn’t hold any biases against him. Over time, as Jiang Xunyu quietly proved himself through his progress and non-confrontational demeanor, it gradually led everyone to accept him as a member of the class.

Ms. Ran also mentioned one or two students who had a good relationship with Jiang Xunyu and even occasionally ate meals with him.  

The only thing that puzzled her was that Jiang Xunyu always wore his large hat. Although the administrator had previously allowed Jiang Xunyu to wear the hat during class, after all this time, he showed no sign of taking it off, which inevitably stirred Ms. Ran’s curiosity.

Ji Yuzhou listened attentively, the cold and stern air around him softening somewhat. After hesitating for a moment, Ms. Ran finally mustered the courage to ask, “Jiang Xunyu has always performed very well in school, but we’re all quite curious—why does he always wear his hat?”  

A soft thud sounded from the coffee table as Ji Yuzhou set his teacup down and asked calmly, “Is that what the other students in the class are curious about too?”  

If Ms. Ran hadn’t brought it up, Ji Yuzhou would have nearly forgotten that this was, in fact, one of the concerns he had vaguely worried about before.

Initially, he had treated Jiang Xunyu as a pawn to be utilized, sending him to the military academy to ensure he completed his studies, regardless of how other students treated him there.

In fact, if Jiang Xunyu faced the same poor treatment as he had in the orphanage, it would have only deepened his reliance on Ji Yuzhou, trusting him alone.

But time and time again, Ji Yuzhou found himself compromising and caring more than he expected. When he first brought Jiang Xunyu back, it was because he appreciated the boy’s purity and sincerity—a child who would repay even the smallest kindness with unwavering loyalty. Now, that same purity had stirred a sense of compassion in him.  

Ms. Ran, watching Ji Yuzhou closely, nodded cautiously. “Yes, but don’t worry. We will absolutely respect Jiang Xunyu’s personal habits and won’t force him to take off his hat.”  

“I see,” Ji Yuzhou replied, his tone indifferent. “If possible, I’ll encourage him to try taking it off.”  

This time, it wasn’t to gain the trust of the pirate leader—it was simply so that the boy could better integrate into his new environment.