The first thing Gu Qianqian did after getting home was log into the game. Much to her frustration, *he* had only been online in the evenings lately. So at noon, her Sword Saint character usually teamed up with two others. Thankfully, patch updates had slowed down—otherwise, with Huaixian slacking off like this, he’d fall way behind the meta!

Mid-PvP, she sneezed several times in a row. The lapse left her open to a full combo, dropping her to critical health. A few rounds later, she still lost. Ugh.

*Mom’s gossiping about me again—and it’s definitely nothing good,* she thought. Annoyed, she flopped backward onto the yoga mat spread across the floor. Her expensive controller clattered carelessly beside her.

Staring at the spotless white ceiling, lost in thought, Gu Qianqian’s expression suddenly twisted in disgust.

*That lecher who stared at my… Ye Huaixian!*

He looked decent on the surface—hmpf. Which girl would be blind enough to fall for him?

&

My mood wasn’t cheerful, nor heavy—just a quiet mix of confusion and frustration.

I walked off the bus at my usual pace, popped into a convenience store for essentials for Xiao Xian and me, then hurried home.

The moment my key turned the lock, Xiao Xian burst from behind the door, launching straight into my arms—shopping bags still dangling from my hands. She wrapped her arms around my neck and cooed, “Daddy~"

A rare smile touched my lips. I hoisted her up, kicked the door shut with my foot, and set the bags down. She still clung tight.

“Time to get down,” I said helplessly.

“No… I love Daddy. I missed you all morning…”

“Ahem. Don’t say things that could be misunderstood in front of others,” I chided gently—but Xiao Xian, knowing she had me wrapped around her finger, just grinned with her little fangs showing, nuzzling deeper into my chest.

Xiao Xian’s feelings toward me had been a rollercoaster.

First came hostility—a twisted “if I can’t have it, destroy it” fixation. Chilling, for a child so young. Lucky she landed with me; handling bratty kids? My specialty.

Then fragility: wary, yet still clinging to the fact that I was her father.

As we grew closer—cooking dinners, tucking her in at night—her spirit slowly returned. Playful obedience: lively, yet deeply devoted.

But devotion didn’t stop tantrums.

Like now: since I stepped inside, she refused to let go, rubbing her cheek against my chest like a clingy kitten, tail practically wagging.

Honestly? The slight weight felt wonderful.

Like someone always waited for you at home—entrusting her whole self to you with that leap. Her tiny frame was no burden at all.

I realized: Xiao Xian had always depended on her father. On *me*.

In the original timeline, I never answered her waiting. In her world, his seat stayed empty. Her mother busy too, she’d sit alone in that vast, silent house, day after day.

That’s why the sharper her hatred, the deeper her love and longing… for *me*.

Now, I mend the cracks in her heart. True healing isn’t punishment—it’s redemption.

Yeah, maybe I’m nudging her further down the path of adoring her dad…

But a daughter loving her father?

…Is that really a problem?