"Daddy~~ Daddy~~"

Right after dinner, the moment my head hit the pillow, Dian Dian pushed open my bedroom door almost in sync. But after last time, You Lin didn’t give her a chance to climb onto my bed. Before Dian Dian could take three steps, You Lin swept her up.

"Dian Dian! Daddy’s tired. Let him sleep first. Mommy will play with you…"

By any normal script, You Lin would’ve carried Dian Dian out, and I’d have napped away all the messy thoughts. But Dian Dian was a Ye after all—we’d spoiled her rotten. How could she surrender to You Lin’s clutches so easily?

"No! No! Dian Dian wants to sleep with Daddy too~~"

"Alright, alright—just stop wriggling!"

My daughter must’ve been part eel. With a few slippery twists, she wriggled free from You Lin’s arms. You Lin had no choice but to set her down and let her leap onto the bed.

Dian Dian seemed convinced my stomach was always rock-hard. Her tiny bare feet stomped straight across my belly before I could even tense my abs. If she’d been older, that step might’ve knocked the wind out of me.

*I’ll have to teach her later—stomping’s fine, but give me a heads-up first…*

"Daddy, can Dian Dian sleep with you?"

It was a question, but her little hands were already flipping back the covers. She burrowed under the sheets, wriggling all the way to my chest, then plopped herself on top of me. Her fingers explored my stubble—freshly shaved on the flight, still smooth to the touch.

"Hmm… Dian Dian’s such a big girl now. Should she still sleep with Mommy and Daddy?"

"Of course she should!!"

She threw her arms around me. But her reach was short—her hug held no real force. All I’d need was a simple sit-up to slide her off. But that wasn’t the outcome I wanted.

"Oh dear! Dian Dian’s gotten so strong—I can’t even break free! Fine, you can stay."

Hearing this, she finally loosened her grip. I pulled her close. Kids are kids—one palm could shield her completely.

Dian Dian hadn’t slept in her own room long—three or four months? Work had blurred the timeline. I liked to think I was a good father, but never a perfect one. Flying across the globe constantly, squeezing visits between meetings… it was tough on You Lin alone.

Before Dian Dian, she’d traveled with me—we’d circled the world together. After her birth, that stopped. Dian Dian was the heart of our home. As parents, we’d traded pieces of our old lives for hers.

To ease her into sleeping alone, You Lin and I transformed her room into a playground. Every corner was padded with soft rubber—falls would only sting for a second. The space was huge, bigger than my childhood home. Rocking horses, swings, and mountains of Barbies and plush toys filled it.

Which reminded me of Xiaoxi. Her childhood Barbies were now rare collectibles—priceless. When she heard You Lin had given birth to her niece, she’d moved every last treasure into Dian Dian’s room. Now Dian Dian’s space mirrored Xiaoxi’s old one, crammed into every corner. But with the larger room, the toy count had multiplied tenfold.

Too many people spoiled Dian Dian. As the first grandchild, everyone poured their best into her. Every time I flew home, I brought gifts. Aunt Xiaoxi never arrived empty-handed. Even Tina, our family friend, always carried something.

And my parents? You Lin’s parents? They’d barely braced for grandparenthood. Now, doting grandparents showered Dian Dian with toys—lavish ones. Money was no object. That’s how her room became a toy avalanche…

"Dian Dian, sleep quietly. Don’t bother Daddy, okay?"

"Okay! Okay!"

You Lin still didn’t trust this little troublemaker. She tugged the blanket higher, tucking it tightly around Dian Dian’s back. After pinching her tiny nose, she turned to draw the curtains.

Shanghai’s sky had been gloomy all day—dark clouds threatening a downpour. If not for You Lin, I’d have forgotten the floor-to-ceiling window entirely. No harsh sunlight pierced through.

*Ding dong. Ding dong.*

*Ding dong. Ding dong.*

My left hand fumbled out from under the covers. One glance at the caller ID wiped the smile off my face.

"Be good, Dian Dian~ Daddy’s taking a call. I’ll be right back!"

No time to wait for her reply. I slid my right arm out from under her head. I didn’t mind working with her nearby, but some conversations couldn’t be overheard. Not if I wanted to keep my "kind dad" image intact—always covering for her, always shielding her from Mommy’s scolding.

*Well…*

*Mostly shielding. I’d still confess everything to You Lin later. She needed that maternal authority—even while spoiling Dian Dian rotten.*

The moment I stepped out, You Lin closed the door behind me. Then, like a water snake, she coiled around my waist. Her eyes dropped to my phone screen.

"Still about that?"

"Yeah. Petty ghosts are hard to handle—but this time, I’m hunting the King of Hell too."

You Lin knew me better than I knew myself. She’d caught every flicker of my expression. Now, she played the perfect partner. Before I answered, she tapped the speakerphone button and pulled me farther down the hall—out of Dian Dian’s earshot.

…

…

"Hello? Chairman Ye, made your decision? Last chance today—miss it, and the offer’s gone!"

That grating, duck-like voice blasted through the speaker. Smug. Mangled with a fake American accent. I swallowed my disgust. You Lin’s brow furrowed beside me—this man had drowned me in work lately. How could she stand him?

"I’ve decided…"

My voice stayed low, but my left hand drifted to You Lin’s waist, tracing upward. I buried my nose in her hair, breathing deep. Only that scent kept me calm.

"Hahaha! Chairman Ye, a wise man! Five hundred million for one video—a steal!"

An ordinary person might choke on those numbers. To us, it was just damage control. Tianxing’s worst investment in years. Not everyone could resist temptation. Once fame and lust took root, some souls crumbled beyond repair.

New talents rise with every generation. The entertainment industry churned constantly—few stayed on top. Those who did shared one trait: integrity. Without it, you didn’t deserve the public’s trust.

Destiny and Ghost were only in their twenties, their voices still at their peak. But Tianxing needed fresh blood. We couldn’t cling to just two trees—even if they were ancient redwoods.

Our rising star was Usher. Born Luo Anfu in the mountains of Guizhou, renamed Luo Yongyan. His family: elderly grandparents unable to work, a disabled father, a mother who vanished after his sister’s birth. His only joy? Singing folk songs on misty peaks. That voice—raw, piercing, alive. The first time You Lin and I heard it at dawn, we locked eyes and nodded without a word.

Meeting him felt like finding Ghost’s younger brother—same grit, same gift. But poverty would’ve buried his talent. I still remembered his family mistaking us for traffickers. Only when we laid cash on their table and showed them Tianxing’s Shanghai HQ did they believe us.

The day they handed Luo Anfu to me, tears streamed down their faces. Two seventy-year-olds knelt before me—a twenty-something—and thanked me for saving their family. That weight never left me. Later, I steered extra resources his way.

He didn’t disappoint. He shed his mountain accent. Learned enough English to converse. Trained relentlessly. Followed Destiny and Ghost’s path: a modest talent show debut, then a duet with Ghost himself. Everyone saw I was grooming him. They called him "Little Ghost."

Everything was perfect. One global hit song, and "Usher" would shed that nickname forever. Tianxing would gain a top-tier artist—still no match for Destiny or Ghost’s legendary voices, but unmatched elsewhere.

I never expected that boy to become someone I didn’t recognize.

We rarely allowed early marriages—especially for female artists. Even secret weddings risked devaluing their brand. I was a businessman first. Charity was for monks. My duty was growing Tianxing—honoring Uncle You’s trust.

Destiny and Ghost? Single. Not a single rumor. Fans even campaigned for them to marry. When Ghost posted a birthday message to Destiny once, #GhostAndDestinyWedding trended worldwide.

But Usher married behind my back—and our fans’ backs. If not for our background checks, we’d still be in the dark.

That time, it was a rare moment when You Lin and I truly got mad.

We treated him like that, with a clear conscience.

Yet he pulled something huge and never even ran it by us.

But it had already happened.

We couldn’t force them to divorce after the fact.

That would only make the whole marriage situation uglier.

So we set only two conditions.

Lock it down, and never let it happen again.

Whatever he did later, he had to give us a heads-up first.

That’s basic for an artist.

If you make a living in this business, you play by my rules.

But it proved we were still too soft, You Lin and I.

Once a person changes, they don’t change back.

If there’s a first time, there’ll be a second.

And each time, worse.

A month ago was the third stop of his tour.

Nothing happened on stage.

The problem was offstage.

He openly solicited prostitutes.

And it was a damn threesome.

How did I know?

Someone filmed it, of course.

A disc landed right on my desk.

It was a multi-angle, high-def blockbuster.

A live-action porn show.

You could see the leads’ faces crystal clear.

Almost clear enough to count their pimples.

If it were only that, it’d still be bad but manageable.

Hiring escorts isn’t stealing or robbing.

Compared to cheating or drugs, it’s almost pure.

But the idiot also cheated.

With an artist signed to our rival.

It was like someone slipped him something.

I’d just confirmed the facts when he was already listed as divorced.

You can’t brush this off as being thick-headed.

He’s an ungrateful bastard.

Once that video gets out, it’ll go viral.

Those two girls were absurdly pretty.

That only speeds it up.

If Usher’s affair breaks on top of that, years of our work go to waste.

Tianxing’s stock will plunge.

After all, we were the ones who brought him up, You Lin and I.

So of course we’re the ones wiping his ass now.

We thought we’d found the next Ghost.

But what he lacks is that one word: virtue.

He doesn’t deserve to be called little Ghost.

I’m not just tired. I’m cold inside.

“So, Chairman Ye, when do you plan to pay up? No offense, man. Money only counts when it’s in my hand. It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“Don’t get me wrong. When I said I’d consider it... I meant trade my one thousand for your eight hundred.”