When I returned to the living room after using the restroom, I found Grandpa sitting on the sofa with an unfamiliar girl.

Her hair was still damp, clad in a cartoon-patterned fleece sweater and black tights.

Spotting me, she puffed her cheeks and glared—eyes blazing with anger. But after a moment, as if recalling what had just happened, her face slowly flushed crimson. She ducked her head, too shy to meet my gaze.

Only now did I get a proper look at her: short hair just past her ears, a small hair tie on the left side, baby-fat cheeks, porcelain skin. Adorably cute.

A real beauty.

I walked over to Grandpa. "Who’s this girl?" I asked. She must have come with him.

Grandpa lifted his head. For the first time, I noticed his usually sharp eyes were bloodshot. He seemed ten years older, moving stiffly as he turned toward the girl. "This is your Uncle Jian’s daughter. Bai Yu. Zong Baiyu."

*Uncle Jian?*

I did have an uncle named Zong Jian. Beyond blood ties, he’d been my guardian angel. Even before my parents passed, I’d been close to him. His warm smile never faded, and he’d play childish games with me all day without tiring.

When I first moved to S City for middle school, I lived with him. I’d always been grateful. After three years together, he married Miss Meiren—a woman eight years his senior, divorced with a daughter. Though relatives disapproved, I wholeheartedly blessed them.

Uncle Jian insisted I stay even after the wedding, but I refused. I didn’t want to intrude. My late father had left a shop and apartment in S City; the rent covered my expenses. I also took on part-time work, earning decent pocket money.

By high school, I lived alone.

So this girl must be Aunt Meiren’s daughter. I’d known of her existence but never met her.

Uncle Jian often joked that Baiyu was as beautiful as a little princess, just like her mother. I’d always smiled it off—he loved teasing.

But seeing her now? He hadn’t lied. She *was* a beauty.

Grandpa turned to Baiyu with a strained smile. "Baiyu, you’ve always wanted to meet Zong Jun. Why stay silent now?"

Something felt off. His smile was forced, his spirit dimmed. Was he unwell?

"N-no I haven’t!" Baiyu stammered, flustered. Catching me watching her, she scrunched her face and silently mouthed:

*Peeping Tom.*

*Freak.*

She kept her voice down, afraid Grandpa would hear. I caught the words anyway. My cheeks burned as I rubbed my nose awkwardly.

*Yeah… I did mess up earlier. I’ll apologize later. Privately.*

I sat on the sofa beside Grandpa. "Where’s Uncle Jian? Didn’t he and Aunt Meiren come?"

Silence.

Not just from him—from Baiyu too. She’d been stealing glances at me moments ago, but now sat hunched, head bowed.

A soft sob broke the quiet. Baiyu was crying. Tears streamed down her face, but she bit her lip hard, refusing to make a sound.

"Huh?" I froze, confused.

"Ah-Jun…" Grandpa used my childhood nickname. He hesitated, searching for words—or debating whether to speak at all.

A cold dread coiled in my chest.

"Zong Jian… is gone."

*Gone?*

My mind went blank. Shock paralyzed thought. I could only stare at Grandpa, my hands trembling uselessly at my sides.

I forced a smile. It felt grotesque. "You’re joking. I saw Uncle Jian just last week. He was perfectly healthy. He promised to celebrate my birthday in two days—"

Grandpa’s face crumpled. Tears carved paths through his wrinkles. I’d only seen him cry once—at my parents’ funeral. This iron-spined man, always brimming with vigor, now radiated twilight years.

Dizziness washed over me. I stared numbly at Grandpa, then at Baiyu—her lips pressed tight against her sobs.

I couldn’t even cry properly.

*Of course.* How could anyone accept it? The kindest man, always smiling, always joking… the one who’d promised birthday cake yesterday… now in heaven? Denial was the only shield.

"How… how did Uncle Jian pass?"

"Car accident."

Two words. They shattered my last hope—that this was some cruel joke.

My heart plummeted.

"And Aunt Meiren…?"

I couldn’t say *gone*. But Grandpa’s silence answered.

I buried my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. My thoughts churned like muddy water. Strangely, beyond disbelief, I felt only weight—not grief.

I still refused to believe.

"What about this child?" My voice turned hoarse. No complaints. No lamenting fate. Just cold reality.

Baiyu’s sobs hitched. She peeked up at me, timid.

Her lips parted slightly, as if to speak, then closed again.

"She could live with me back in the countryside," Grandpa said slowly. "But she still has school… Ah-Jun, I have a request." He stroked Baiyu’s hair. "She’s Meiren’s daughter—no blood tie to Jian. But she was his child too. Part of our Zong family."

"For your Uncle Jian’s sake… and for mine… I ask you to care for her."

I stood up, solemn.

Grandpa’s eyes held mine. "She’s always adored you. Ah-Jun… will you promise to look after her?"

"I haven’t—" Baiyu mumbled, flustered, but fell silent.

I walked to Baiyu, crouched before her, and spoke gently: "Want to come live with me?"

Her tear-filled eyes widened. She stared up at me, frozen.

Thinking she hesitated, I added warmly, like an older brother: "It’ll be tough at first—I’ve no experience raising girls. But I’ll try my best…"

"The apartment’s big. Pick any room you like. Friends can visit anytime. And…" I managed a small smile. "I cook well."

Tears spilled over. She pressed her lips together, a tiny whimper escaping: "W-why?"

I paused, then smiled naturally. "Because I’m your family too."

Her lips trembled. Tears flooded down her cheeks. Then, with a choked cry—

"Zong Jun—!!"

She threw her arms around me, sobbing into my chest. All her restraint shattered.

*She finally had someone to break down with.*

She clung to me, tight, tight, wailing against my shirt.

I said nothing. Just held her, gently patting her back.

I’d never had a daughter. At seventeen, I was barely more than a boy myself.

But I vowed then: I’d raise her as my own.