A Father’s Blessing

“Huh?” Zhuang Silu turned to look at her husband, completely struck dumb by his words. It took her a long moment to find her voice again. “Wait a minute… are you trying to tell me that those two are actually…”

“There’s definitely something going on,” Yu Minghui answered with a knowing smile.

Zhuang Silu was thoroughly bewildered now: “The real question is, how on earth did you figure that out? Did Qingkong tell you?”

If that was the case, a sudden wave of indignation washed over her. What was that supposed to mean? Why would Qingkong immediately tell her father about something so monumental but keep her own mother in the dark? What did she even amount to in that girl’s eyes?

“No, no…” Yu Minghui paused, shaking his head hastily to clear the misunderstanding. “I figured it out through my own observation. And… well, I accidentally caught them sharing an intimate moment.”

“An intimate moment?” Zhuang Silu blinked. “The kind I’m thinking of?”

Yu Minghui let out a soft cough, leaning in closer to whisper directly into her ear: “I saw them kissing.”

Zhuang Silu lost her voice completely, staring blankly ahead in sheer shock. After a long pause, she turned her head slowly back to her husband: “So… our Qingkong’s sexual orientation is actually…”

“Mm, yes, it is,” Yu Minghui confirmed with a steady nod.

Zhuang Silu let out a long sigh, her brow furrowing slightly: “But I still have a question. How can you be so sure they aren’t just playing around as close girlfriends? What if it’s not serious?”

Yu Minghui frowned thoughtfully at her point, then nodded slowly: “You have a point. Let me keep observing them a bit more.”

Meanwhile, upstairs.

Yu Qingkong escorted Lin Wanzhao back to the guest bedroom. She stepped over to draw the curtains shut, then turned back to look at her: “It’s getting late. You should freshen up and get some sleep.”

“Oh,” Lin Wanzhao murmured in response. However, just as Yu Qingkong wrapped her hand around the doorknob to leave, Lin Wanzhao stepped forward swiftly, sealing the door shut once more. Leaning her back firmly against the wooden panel, she tilted her chin up slightly, locking her gaze onto Yu Qingkong.

In the heavy silence that followed, Yu Qingkong’s eyes gradually drifted down to Lin Wanzhao’s breathtakingly beautiful face. She opened her mouth softly: “Lin—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Lin Wanzhao leaned in, pressing her lips gently against Yu Qingkong’s. It was a soft, fleeting kiss, like a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface. Pulling back just an inch, Lin Wanzhao stared directly into her eyes: “We shouldn’t get caught if we do it like this, right?”

“I suppose not,” Yu Qingkong murmured, her gaze turning as deep and unfathomable as the ocean. Suddenly, she reached out, wrapping her arms around Lin Wanzhao’s waist to pull her flush against her chest, and leaned down to deepen the kiss.

She felt as though she was losing her usual composure, becoming someone she barely recognized. Yu Qingkong held her tightly, closing her eyes as a faint trace of longing flared up within her—an urge to seek more, to crave more from the woman in her arms.

“Director Lin,” Yu Qingkong murmured softly after a quiet interlude.

“Mm?” Lin Wanzhao looked up at her, her eyes glistening with a tender, vulnerable warmth.

Yu Qingkong stared down at her for a long moment without saying a word. Finally, she leaned back down, sealing their lips together once more…

In the blink of an eye, the old year slipped away, and the New Year officially arrived. After lunch on the second day of the holiday, Yu Minghui decided to drive down to their actual ancestral village for a nostalgic stroll. Naturally, Yu Qingkong and Lin Wanzhao tagged along for the ride.

After a twenty-minute drive along the main highway, the three of them climbed out of the car and veered onto a narrow, overgrown dirt path off the main road.

Because these paths hadn’t been walked by locals in years, the area looked incredibly wild and desolate. The thick weeds growing along both sides of the path were high enough to brush against their knees.

Yu Qingkong couldn’t help but sigh softly at the sight: “It’s been so long since I last came back. This place is becoming more and more deserted. I assume the village we used to live in has completely emptied out by now?”

“Yes, Grandma Li moved away at the beginning of this year too. There’s absolutely nothing left over there now—just a cluster of abandoned houses.” Yu Minghui took a few steps forward before stopping, clasping his hands behind his back as he squinted at the distant landscape.

The winter weather today was exceptionally biting, and the sky hung overhead in a heavy, overcast shade of muted gray.

“This is my very first time visiting a place like this. The air here is absolutely incredible! It feels like my entire soul is being cleansed!” Lin Wanzhao, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. After all, she had only ever seen places like this in books or television dramas.

“You like it here?” Yu Qingkong turned her head to look at her.

“I love it,” Lin Wanzhao nodded eagerly.

“How about we leave you here to spend the night all by yourself then?” Yu Qingkong teased.

“You…” Lin Wanzhao shot her a playful glare. Just as she was about to retort, her attention was instantly captured by a cluster of vibrant yellow wildflowers growing along the edge of the path. She squatted down, reaching a hand out toward them. “Are these little flowers wild daisies? They look slightly different…”

However, just as Lin Wanzhao’s fingers were about to brush against the green leaves, Yu Qingkong spoke up with absolute gravity: “Don’t touch them. They’re highly toxic. Touching them causes your skin to rot right off. When we were kids, a child from our village picked a whole bouquet out of curiosity. In the end, his hands rotted away completely, leaving nothing but bare white bones.”

The terrifying tale sent Lin Wanzhao leaping a whole meter backward like a startled rabbit. She frantically held her hands out in front of her face, inspecting her fingers over and over again to ensure they were intact.

Watching the scene unfold from a few steps away, Yu Minghui couldn’t help but shake his head with a silent, amused chuckle.

“Are they really toxic?! Are you serious?!” Lin Wanzhao asked, clutching her fingers tightly as she stared at Yu Qingkong in sheer panic.

At that, Yu Qingkong finally burst into a bright laugh, walking ahead with a brisk step: “City kids are so incredibly easy to trick. This is too much fun. Of course it’s fake; they’re completely harmless.”

Lin Wanzhao stood frozen for a few seconds before stomping her foot in frustration. She swiftly plucked a large handful of the wild chrysanthemums and chased after her, yelling: “I’m going to throw these at you!”

Yet, as if she had eyes in the back of her head, Yu Qingkong deftly sidestepped the projectile. She turned around to face Lin Wanzhao, spreading her arms wide as she began walking backward with an easy grin: “Missed me.”

Lin Wanzhao huffed, taking a few fast steps forward: “Freeze right there!”

“Alright,” Yu Qingkong complied, coming to a smooth halt.

Lin Wanzhao lunged forward to grab her, but the moment her hand extended, Yu Qingkong nimbly ducked out of reach once more, jogging a few paces ahead.

“Did you honestly think I’d stand still just because you told me to? You’re far too naive.” Yu Qingkong laughed, catching her breath slightly as she looked back at her.

Lin Wanzhao shook her fist playfully, calling out loudly: “Fine! So what if I’m naive? I guess I’m just incredibly easy for you to fool!”

“Let’s be reasonable here, Miss Lin. What exactly have I fooled you out of?” Yu Qingkong stood up straight, her breathing returning to normal.

“You fooled me out of…” Lin Wanzhao caught herself just in time. Realizing Yu Minghui was standing right next to them, she quickly swallowed the words “my heart” back down.

“Ah, it’s truly wonderful to be young…” Yu Minghui observed the two of them with a warm sigh, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Seeing them like this was wonderful—simple, lighthearted, and happy. Life was short, after all; it should be spent in whatever way brought the most peace and comfort to the soul.

After another forty minutes of navigating the winding, narrow trails, Yu Qingkong finally arrived back at her ancestral home. It had been three years since she last stepped foot here. In her absence, the village had grown even more desolate, with deep cracks spreading across the brick walls of some of the abandoned properties.

Stopping in front of a modest brick house, Yu Minghui wandered off toward the hills out back to look around. Yu Qingkong reached down to pluck a stray weed from the corner of the wall, then turned to face Lin Wanzhao: “This house right here is our old family home.”

Lin Wanzhao nodded, walking around the perimeter to inspect the structure curiousy: “Did you live here during your childhood?”

“Yes, I lived here until I was a few years old,” Yu Qingkong bit her lip lightly, scanning the quiet surroundings. “The village used to be quite bustling back then, but everyone has moved away to the cities now, leaving it completely empty.”

“Can we go inside and take a look?” Lin Wanzhao asked.

“Of course. Follow me.” Yu Qingkong pulled out a ring of keys, selected an old, traditional brass key, and sprinted up the porch steps to unlock the heavy front door.

“This is the main living area, over there is the kitchen—it still has an old-fashioned wood-burning stove inside, though I was far too young back then to actually use it. And these stairs right here lead up to my old bedroom.” Without missing a beat, Yu Qingkong bounded up the wooden staircase with the agility of a forest creature.

Lin Wanzhao could only praise her luck that she had chosen to wear flat shoes today; otherwise, she would truly be questioning her life choices right now. They had walked so much, yet Yu Qingkong didn’t seem the least bit unfazed, while she herself was practically exhausted.

Following her upstairs, Lin Wanzhao was surprised to find proper floor tiling and a neat layout. It turned out her imagination had run a bit wild; she had subconsciously envisioned Yu Qingkong growing up in the most impoverished, destitute conditions imaginable…

“This little wooden table is actually quite charming.” Lin Wanzhao stopped beside a small wooden desk near the window.

“This is exactly where I used to do my homework when I was a kid,” Yu Qingkong said, tugging open one of the drawers. As she pulled it open, a neat stack of old, dust-covered notebooks was revealed to them.

“Are these your old school notebooks?” Lin Wanzhao reached out to lift them gently.

“Yes,” Yu Qingkong nodded, leaning against the desk as she let Lin Wanzhao flip through them without any objection. “I attended the tiny village school nearby until about the second grade. We moved away during the second half of that school year. When I went looking for the school a while back, I found out it had been completely demolished.”

“I see…” Lin Wanzhao noted softly, smiling as she read through the child-sized handwriting. “Your handwriting was already so beautiful even back when you were so young?”

“Probably because I spent a lot of time practicing calligraphy.” Yu Qingkong rummaged through a small cabinet adjacent to the desk, pulling out a few old calligraphy practice books. She blew the dust off the covers, opened them, and laid them out before Lin Wanzhao. “From the first grade all the way through middle school, I practiced my penmanship almost every single day. These booklets are from my first and second-grade years.”

“What’s this…? A weekly journal?” Lin Wanzhao’s sharp eyes caught sight of a small, distinct booklet nestled among the stack, and she immediately reached for it.

“Wait, not that one…” Yu Qingkong’s eyes widened, and she lunged forward to grab the edge of the booklet.

“Eh?” Lin Wanzhao blinked in surprise. “Is there something… embarrassing written inside?”

“Not exactly, it’s just…” Yu Qingkong tilted her head slightly, a faint flush rising on her cheeks. My thoughts back then were incredibly juvenile. The idea of someone reading something so childish feels a bit embarrassing.”*

This particular journal belonged to her fourth-grade year. They had already moved away by then, but during one holiday, she had returned to the village with her father to attend a local wedding. She had brought this notebook along with her and accidentally left it behind when they departed. Since she had simply bought a new one afterward, this booklet had remained untouched in the drawer ever since.

“Alright, alright, I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” Lin Wanzhao pouted playfully, releasing her grip on the paper.

Yu Qingkong hesitated for a moment. Yielding to a sudden, unexplainable impulse, she ended up placing the booklet right back into Lin Wanzhao’s hands.

With a delighted smile, Lin Wanzhao accepted the journal and flipped it open.

On the very first page, written in shaky pencil strokes, was an entry by a young Yu Qingkong:

Yesterday, Mom asked me if I wanted a little sister or brother to play with me. I got very upset. Why would she ask that? Does she think I’m not cute enough, so she wants a new baby? I don’t want a sibling at all. If they are born, I am definitely going to beat them up until they cry out loud.

Reading this, Lin Wanzhao burst into a bright laugh: “So you were completely against having a sibling at first! When Qingyu was born later on, you must have been so miserable?”

“I couldn’t accept it at the very beginning, but once Qingyu arrived, I realized she was actually quite adorable, so I quickly came around,” Yu Qingkong shook her head with an amused smile. “I’ve never raised a hand against her. In fact, I’ve beaten up quite a few neighborhood kids who tried to bully her.”

Lin Wanzhao smiled warmly at the revelation. Flipping further through the pages, her eyes caught another distinct entry in the diary:

Bingli is so pretty. I really want to be friends with her, but I don’t know what it takes to make her like me. I gave her a lot of my small toys and snacks, and she finally agreed to play with me! She even invited me over to her house over the weekend. We watched TV, ate dinner, and played games together. I was so incredibly happy!

“Bingli? Who’s that?” Lin Wanzhao looked up, her eyebrows arching high with a distinct edge of jealousy.

Hearing the question, Yu Qingkong cleared her throat awkwardly, stepping over to open the window: “She was just… the class beauty back then.”

“Wow, the class beauty…” Lin Wanzhao stared at the name for a beat longer, mimicking the entry’s tone in a playful, mock-sweet voice: “She’s so pretty, I want to get close to her so badly…”

Yu Qingkong kept her eyes firmly trained on the floor, mumbling: “I was just a kid back then, I literally just wanted to make a friend…”

“Of course, I’m just slightly curious about how stunningly beautiful she must have been.” Lin Wanzhao realized she was being absurdly jealous and wanted to shake it off, but she couldn’t help the slight pang of sourness in her chest. Who would have thought Yu Qingkong was capable of proactively pursuing someone like that? Yet, she herself had never received that kind of active wooing from Yu Qingkong, all because of some childhood ‘class beauty’ named Bingli.

“There’s nothing to be curious about…” Yu Qingkong murmured, clearing her throat again.

“But I am curious! Do you have a photo of her? Let me see. I want to know what exactly constitutes ‘beautiful’ in Miss Yu’s eyes.” Lin Wanzhao held her palm out expectantly.

Yu Qingkong paused, scratching her head in embarrassment: “We had a falling out later on, so I… tore up all the photos. Kids always do incredibly foolish things when they’re angry.”

“Oh…” Lin Wanzhao nodded, continuing to flip through the pages. “Then this Bingli must have been deeply important to you back then. Otherwise, why would you get so incredibly angry over a falling out?”

“At the time, I suppose she was. Honestly, I don’t really remember clearly. It happened so long ago that looking back, it feels like nothing out of the ordinary.” Yu Qingkong stared out the window.

“I suppose so,” Lin Wanzhao agreed softly.

Before long, Lin Wanzhao finished reading through the journal. It revealed a surprisingly delicate, girlish side to Yu Qingkong’s childhood self—saving up every penny just to buy a giant teddy bear, secretly trying on her mother’s lipstick only to snap it and get a scolding, and listing her favorite colors as pink and purple. She had possessed the heart of a true, whimsical young girl.

Since it was winter and the river crabs had all burrowed deep into their mudholes for hibernation, Yu Qingkong couldn’t take Lin Wanzhao crabbing. Instead, she guided her on a leisurely stroll through the surrounding fields and woods.

Along the way, Lin Wanzhao received a crash course in countryside survival. She learned which wildflowers were edible, which plants possessed medicinal properties, the absolute best course of action if one accidentally disturbed a hornet’s nest, the proper technique for climbing trees barefoot, and the exact months specific wild fruits ripened along with how to safely consume them.

Yu Qingkong also shared a story about how she and a few childhood friends had once snuck into a neighbor’s yard to steal corn. Right after they managed to pluck a few ears, the neighbor’s guard dog broke free from its chain. Terrified out of their wits, they sprinted blindly until they managed to scramble up a massive tree, where they sat marooned for several agonizing hours until the dog finally lost interest and wandered away…

Her parents had absolutely no inkling about any of these misadventures; in their eyes, their daughter had always been as pure and blameless as a blank sheet of paper. Little did they know, she had been just as wild and reckless as any other child—she was simply exceptionally skilled at playing the model daughter.

Reading between the lines of these stories, Lin Wanzhao couldn’t help but let out a quiet, joyful laugh.

Noticing her bright expression, Yu Qingkong asked: “Was my childhood really that ridiculous, Director Lin? You seem incredibly amused.”

Lin Wanzhao turned her head to look at her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she shook her head: “No, that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Yu Qingkong asked, thoroughly puzzled.

“I just feel like… I’ve managed to step a little closer into your world.” Lin Wanzhao offered softly, offering her another radiant smile.

Yu Qingkong stared at her in silence. Though the winter sunlight felt somewhat crisp and cool, the moment it washed over Lin Wanzhao’s soft features, it seemed to transform into something profoundly warm and tender.

For Lin Wanzhao, even though she hadn’t been a part of Yu Qingkong’s life from the very beginning, being able to share in these precious childhood memories now filled her with a deep, unadulterated happiness.

“Just because of that…?” Yu Qingkong kept her eyes locked onto her. “Something so simple can make you this happy, Director Lin?”

Lin Wanzhao hesitated for a brief second before looking directly into her eyes and giving a firm, decisive nod.

“Qingkong! Wanzhao!” Just then, Yu Minghui’s booming voice echoed from down the path.

Yu Qingkong instantly pulled her thoughts back, leaning out the window to call back: “We’re up here!”

“Alright, come on down! It’s time for us to head back. The sun sets incredibly fast during this season, and it’ll be too dangerous to navigate these rough paths in the dark. Let’s move!” Yu Minghui waved up at them from the courtyard.

“Okay, we’ll be right down!” Yu Qingkong shut the window, gently wrapped her fingers around Lin Wanzhao’s wrist, and guided her toward the dark stairwell, activating her phone’s flashlight to illuminate the steps. “There’s no light here and the steps are quite steep. Watch your step closely.”

“Oh, alright!” Lin Wanzhao nodded. Following her down the stairs, her eyes drifted down to the pale, slender hand carefully guiding her by the wrist, and her smile deepened.

“You’re actually quite brave,” Yu Qingkong noted out of the blue.

“Hm?” Lin Wanzhao didn’t quite catch her meaning.

“The first time Shao Yushi came here with me, she complained that the place was entirely devoid of life and felt exactly like a haunted house. She nearly scared herself to death.” Yu Qingkong’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“That’s just because her own courage is entirely too lacking.” Lin Wanzhao stepped onto the final step of the staircase.

“True,” Yu Qingkong turned back to look at her with a gentle smile, “That’s exactly why I said you’re quite brave.”

“Mm…” Lin Wanzhao tilted her head playfully, “Or maybe it’s simply because you’re holding onto my hand. As long as you’re with me, I have absolutely nothing to fear.”

Yu Qingkong froze in her tracks, staring at her in absolute silence.

“Qingkong, have you two come down yet?!” Yu Minghui’s voice boomed from outside once more.

Yu Qingkong pulled her gaze away, calling back toward the door: “Coming, we’re coming!”

Stepping out of the old house, the two girls reunited with Yu Minghui and retraced their steps along the rugged mountain paths toward the main road. The overgrown trail was significantly harder to navigate than standard roads, but fortunately, the terrain wasn’t overly treacherous.

By the time they reached the car, Lin Wanzhao was thoroughly exhausted. She was incredibly relieved she had brought flat shoes for the excursion; had she been wearing heels, she was certain her feet would be permanently out of commission by now.

“By the way, Dad, when does your shop reopen for business?” Yu Qingkong asked, settling into the backseat next to Lin Wanzhao and addressing her father in the driver’s seat.

“On the third day of the New Year,” Yu Minghui replied, shifting the car into reverse. “A lot of people travel during the tail end of the holiday, so they like to visit our scenic spots.”

“True,” Yu Qingkong nodded.

“What about you? When are you planning to head back to Shengcheng?” Yu Minghui inquired further.

“Probably within the next couple of days. I have plans to meet up with Sister Ting and Xiaoxiao. Plus, she probably has quite a few business matters to attend to as well, so we can’t stay too long.” Yu Qingkong turned her head toward Lin Wanzhao, only to find that the girl had already drifted off to sleep beside her. Her head was swaying precariously with the motion of the car, bumping lightly against the window before tilting toward the other side, yet she remained fast asleep. After watching her for a moment, Yu Qingkong pulled a soft blanket from the adjacent seat, unfolded it gently, and draped it over her shoulders.

“Mmh…” In her sleep, Lin Wanzhao let out a soft murmur, shifting slightly before sinking deeper into slumber.

In her sleep, Lin Wanzhao looked incredibly innocent and peaceful. Yu Qingkong watched her for a long moment before speaking quietly to Yu Minghui: “Dad, she’s asleep. Could you turn up the heater a bit? I don’t want her catching a cold.”

Yu Minghui let out a low chuckle: “Asleep already? I suppose the constant fireworks over the last two nights have been keeping her awake. It’s been tough on her. Still, you really seem to care for her deeply.”

Yu Qingkong let out a quiet cough: “Do I?”

“Of course you do. Am I wrong?” Yu Minghui countered.

Yu Qingkong stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror for a beat before offering a soft nod: “Yes, you’re right.”

Yu Minghui nodded back in understanding, offering no further comment as he focused entirely on navigating the road back home.

After dinner that evening, Yu Qingyu and Zhuang Silu headed out together to visit some neighbors, leaving only Yu Minghui, Yu Qingkong, and Lin Wanzhao at home.

When Yu Qingkong finished washing the dishes and stepped out of the kitchen, she noticed Lin Wanzhao curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. She walked over and gently tapped her shoulder: “If you’re tired, you should head up to your room to sleep properly. It’ll be much more comfortable than the sofa.”

Startled awake, Lin Wanzhao nodded somewhat blankly. She stretched her arms out before finally making her way upstairs. She truly hadn’t slept well over the past two nights. The walls of the house weren’t particularly soundproof, and the relentless barrage of firecrackers and fireworks outside had been deafening, constantly jerking her out of sleep. She felt as though she hadn’t slept at all.

Yet, once she was actually back in the quiet confines of her bedroom, sleep eluded her entirely.

Eventually, Lin Wanzhao switched on the bedside lamp, let out a soft yawn, and pulled out her phone to pass the time. She opened a group chat on WeChat, finding her friends locked in a lively, animated discussion. Glancing over the messages, she realized they were all discussing plans for the upcoming Valentine’s Day.

Some were already meticulously planning elaborate dates with their partners, while the single members of the group lamented their lonely status.

Watching the chatter unfold, Lin Wanzhao typed out a quick message of her own: This topic is completely beyond the scope of a single dog like me.

The moment her message sent, the group chat instantly erupted with a barrage of rapid-fire replies:

“If you don’t have a partner, just go find one! With your looks, finding a significant other should literally take seconds!”

“Exactly! Since when is dating a challenge for someone like you? You’re Lin Wanzhao, for goodness’ sake!”

Staring at the flurry of messages, Lin Wanzhao’s mind involuntarily drifted back to Yu Qingkong.

Prompted by an unexplainable urge, she pulled up the calendar app on her phone.

Her eyes scanned down the dates, eventually locking onto a specific day that she had actively ignored every single year of her life.

February 14th: Valentine’s Day.

In the past, this date had held absolutely zero significance for her. But now, a sudden, burning desire flared up within her chest—she wanted to experience it just once. She wanted to celebrate it with the person she loved.

Right then, as if her phone had read her mind, a notification popped up at the top of her screen, pushing an article titled: “The Ultimate Romantic Destinations for Valentine’s Day.”

Driven by a sudden impulse, Lin Wanzhao didn’t swipe the notification away. Instead, she clicked it open. The article highlighted several popular spots, including a famous “Lovers’ Lane” and several romantic themed restaurants. Every single location was beautifully decorated in soft, whimsical pastel pinks and romantic hues, looking incredibly dreamlike.

Lin Wanzhao bit her lower lip unconsciously.

There wasn’t much time left. Once the Spring Festival holiday came to a close, it wouldn’t be long before this legendary holiday—one she had never once celebrated—arrived.

Staring intently at the number ’14’ on her screen, her heart rate began to pick up, its rhythm accelerating steadily.

Would she be able to celebrate it this year?

Downstairs, in the courtyard.

After cleaning up the house, Yu Qingkong wandered out into the yard, stopping beside Yu Minghui, who was currently busy repairing the wooden carport panels: “Dad, are you almost finished?”

“It’ll still take a bit of time,” Yu Minghui replied, looking up at his daughter. “Where’s Wanzhao?”

“Mm,” Yu Qingkong nodded, “She really hasn’t been sleeping well over the last two nights because of the noise, so she went up to her room to rest early.”

“It’s been tough on her. The local traditions here are just like that—during the New Year, firecrackers ring out from dusk till dawn.” Yu Minghui shook his head with a sigh.

“Yes, and she walked a tremendous amount today too. Even though she didn’t complain once, I know she must be absolutely exhausted.” Yu Qingkong agreed.

“Qingkong…” Just then, Yu Minghui weighed the small hatchet in his hand, turning his head to look directly at his daughter. His expression carried a profound, unreadable gravity.

“Hm?” An involuntary wave of nervousness washed over Yu Qingkong, her palms instantly growing slick with a cold sweat. Experience told her that whenever her father addressed her in this specific, weighty tone, the conversation that followed was bound to be momentous.

“There are a few things I’ve been wanting to sit down and discuss with you.” Yu Minghui said, pulling out a measuring tape to inspect a wooden board on the ground.

“What is it, Dad?” Yu Qingkong kept her eyes locked onto him.

“Even though you’re an adult now, incredibly sensible, and completely independent in how you handle your affairs—possessing your own firm opinions on almost everything—in a father’s eyes, you’ll always be that tiny, fragile infant I held in my arms. Because of that, there are some matters I simply feel compelled to ask about.” Yu Minghui sat down on a nearby wooden bench.

“Ask away.” Yu Qingkong stood straight, her gaze steady as she looked at him.

“First of all, I want to make it absolutely clear that I have no intention of infringing upon your freedom or dictating your choices. I simply wish to understand the reality of the situation, that’s all.” Yu Minghui’s expression and tone turned intensely serious in an instant, radiating a formidable authority that exerted immense pressure.

“So, Dad… what exactly are you trying to say?” Yu Qingkong tilted her head slightly.

“The truth is, the other day in the storage attic… I saw everything that happened between you and Wanzhao.” Yu Minghui pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a sharp click of his lighter, and placed it between his lips.

In that exact instant, Yu Qingkong went entirely rigid, her mind blanking out as she braced herself for whatever severe lecture was to follow.

“I didn’t mean to pry; it was an absolute accident that I walked in on you two. So, what I want to know is… what exactly is the nature of your relationship with Miss Lin right now? How far along have things developed?” Yu Minghui exhaled a neat smoke ring, removing the cigarette from his lips as he fixed a piercing gaze onto his daughter.

Yu Qingkong felt as though she had been struck squarely by a bolt of lightning. Every single muscle in her body wound tight. Despite the cold night breeze swirling through the courtyard, a intense, burning heat flushed across her back.

“I…”

“Are you two officially together?” Yu Minghui pressed.

Yu Qingkong shook her head.

“Then you two…” Yu Minghui blinked in genuine confusion. In his traditional mindset, if two people weren’t in an official relationship, how could they possibly be kissing so intimately?

“Dad, I…” Yu Qingkong desperately wanted to avoid lying to him, yet explaining the absolute truth was incredibly complicated. They were far beyond mere kissing; they had shared encounters that were infinitely more intimate, yet it was also entirely true that they hadn’t established an official relationship status.

Overwhelmed by the complexity, Yu Qingkong raised a hand to press against her forehead.

“Or… was it simply a case of you looking at her in that moment and… losing yourself to your emotions?” Yu Minghui probed further.

Yu Qingkong let out a long, heavy sigh, her fingers rubbing her temple before she finally offered a quiet nod. In a sense, it truly had been a moment of losing herself to her overwhelming affection.

“Then, after that happened… how did she react toward you?” Yu Minghui inquired.

This time, Yu Qingkong remained silent, completely at a loss for words.

“Tell me honestly, you truly love that girl, don’t you?” Yu Minghui stepped closer to his daughter, placing his hands behind his back as he inspected her with absolute gravity. “And I mean love in a romantic sense.”

Yu Qingkong had absolutely no idea what her father’s ultimate stance was. She felt as though her nerves were stretched to a breaking point, ready to snap at any second.

“Do you love her?” Yu Minghui asked once more, his eyes searching hers with intense scrutiny.

A bead of sweat rolled slowly down Yu Qingkong’s spine. Finally, her throat tightened, and she lowered her head, speaking in a low, unwavering voice: “Yes. I love her.”

“Then why aren’t you two together?” Yu Minghui demanded.

“We just aren’t,” Yu Qingkong shook her head, her eyes trained on the ground.

“Have you actually confessed your feelings to her?” Yu Minghui kept his hands clasped behind his back, staring directly at her.

Yu Qingkong remained silent.

“You absolute fool!” Yu Minghui suddenly snatched the cigarette from his mouth, barking out the words.

Startled by his sudden outburst, Yu Qingkong snapped her head up to look at him: “The main thing is, I’m worried about…”

There were simply far too many heavy burdens and considerations holding her back. She worried that even if she offered Lin Wanzhao a lifelong commitment, she might not be able to guarantee her true happiness; she worried that the immense disparity in their social status and family backgrounds would cause Lin Wanzhao’s parents to unleash a fierce, destructive backlash…

Yet, before she could articulate her fears, Yu Minghui turned on his heel to face her, questioning her fiercely: “Do you honestly think worrying is going to solve a single one of your problems? Escaping reality solves absolutely nothing; it only allows the issues to pile up until they crush you! The absolute best way to handle any challenge in life is to stop overthinking and just go for it! That way, whether the outcome turns out to be a magnificent success or a total failure, you’ll never have to live with the agonizing weight of regret! You’ve lived for nearly thirty years, and you’ve finally managed to find someone you truly love. If you don’t grab hold of this chance now, do you honestly intend to live out the rest of your days as a lonely, solitary soul?”

Yu Qingkong stared at him in utter disbelief, her eyes widening: “Wait… Dad, are you trying to say… you don’t object to this?”

Yu Minghui let out a sharp huff: “I’m not the one living your life, so what right do I possibly have to object? Look at you, sitting there torturing yourself by overthinking everything. You completely convinced yourself that I would oppose your love, didn’t you? But look at the reality—I don’t oppose it at all, do I? So stop assuming the absolute worst about everything!”

“I…” Yu Qingkong bit her lower lip, turning her head slightly as a wave of intense emotion threatened to overwhelm her. She genuinely didn’t know how to respond.

Yu Minghui’s expression softened, his voice returning to its usual warm, comforting tone: “Your father isn’t some grand, extraordinary historical figure. Your mother and I are just incredibly ordinary people with limited capabilities. The one and only thing we can truly offer you is a life completely free of parental pressure—whether that’s pressure regarding financial success, or pressure regarding who your heart chooses to love. I don’t need you to achieve monumental feats or change the world, Qingkong. My only wish is that no matter what challenges you face, our love can serve as a source of strength for you, allowing you to pursue your own happiness without a single shred of doubt.”

“Dad…” Yu Qingkong stared at him, a sudden warmth welling up as her eyes grew heavily rimmed with red.

“Your father loves you!” Yu Minghui declared fiercely. With a bright, triumphant grin, he raised his hands in front of his chest and brought his fingers together, flashing her an energetic heart sign.