"Yijiu, I’m afraid I won’t be home for the Mid-Autumn Festival this year," Feng Mingdong said the evening before his trip. He’d come home early, watching his daughter immersed in her mobile game, guilt flickering in his eyes.

He always felt he’d let her down—especially after the surgery. Her drastic changes, particularly her skyrocketing grades, made him suspect the "gaming addict" image she showed him was just a mask Feng Yijiu wore to prove *I’m fine*.

"Okay, got it," Feng Yijiu replied, still deep in the game.

At that exact moment, her Hua Mulan—health critically low—landed a lightning-fast combo. Using bushes for cover and a well-timed Flash, she flipped the fight and secured a kill on the enemy jungler. Naturally, her reply to her dad was perfunctory.

Besides, living alone didn’t faze her. She never saw herself as delicate. And wasn’t Sister Cen Man around?

Unbeknownst to Feng Yijiu, her father’s emotions in that moment could’ve fueled a full family drama. If she knew, she’d swear her cheap dad was a born actor.

"Yes!" Feng Yijiu pumped her fist. On-screen, her near-dead Hua Mulan stood proudly before the ruined enemy base, recalling. Teammates and opponents lay scattered at her feet. Loyal super minions methodically carried out demolition duty.

Feng Mingdong’s eyebrows twitched. He secretly loved this game—but seeing his daughter so absorbed stirred an urge to delete it.

"Meow~" A chubby orange face nuzzled his hand. Oddly, though Feng Mingdong spent the least time caring for Orange, the cat always sought him out.

Watching Orange leap onto her dad’s lap, Feng Yijiu figured he was fine and queued up another match.

Feng Mingdong shot the shameless cat—who dared compete for his daughter’s affection—a look. He gave Orange two firm, disgruntled pets. The cat purred contentedly.

By the way, "Little" no longer fit Orange. After a month of feasting, his once-baguette frame had evolved into a hearty rye loaf.

What quietly annoyed Feng Yijiu: she felt like Orange’s most peripheral figure—even though *she* was the real poop-scooper. In Orange’s world, Cen Man was the angelic food provider, her dad a buddy, and she… a servant? Resentment simmered.

But right now, her focus was entirely on the Rift.

Watching his daughter mask emotions with action, Feng Mingdong felt a pang. Itinerary set, he steeled himself, reached out, and ruffled Feng Yijiu’s hair—a gesture he’d slowly adopted since she became a girl.

Though she always resisted it, he found her flustered, helpless expression after the mess utterly endearing.

After that head pat, Feng Yijiu gritted her teeth. The opponent—thanks to a physics glitch—survived with a sliver of health and arrogantly recalled over her Hua Mulan’s corpse.

She’d planned to mention Li Hao’s National Day dinner invite. But after her cheap dad’s heavy-handed pat? No mood. *Just a small thing. No big deal*, she thought.

Oblivious, Feng Mingdong kept nagging. "Eat well during National Day."

"Mm, got it," Feng Yijiu murmured, fingers flying as she routed the enemy.

"Move around after meals. Don’t sit right away."

"Mm."

Hearing her replies grow thinner, he fell silent. Still—a homebody like her? Surely safe. The thought eased his worry. Yet dawn departure loomed. He’d left his "half-grown boy" alone countless times before. But now his "little pig" had blossomed into a delicate "cabbage"... And strangely, this trip felt unusually targeted. Heart heavy, Feng Mingdong left.

Almost simultaneously, Feng Yijiu packed her bag.

"Sister Manman, I’m heading to the library with classmates. Won’t be back for lunch or dinner," she called before leaving.

"Bring an umbrella. Forecast says rain," Cen Man reminded her.

After she left, Cen Man, as usual, messaged Feng Mingdong her itinerary.

"Library with classmates again?" He read it, nodded slightly. If he recalled right, two female classmates. Reassured, he closed his eyes to rest.

Meanwhile, Feng Yijiu frowned slightly at her tank top. *This’ll give me away.* She’d chosen dark clothes, but a faint bra outline was still visible up close. *If Uncle and Auntie notice I’m a girl—and underdressed—will they think something’s wrong with me?* The seriousness hit her. After a long pause, she hurried back upstairs and threw on an opaque windbreaker.

"This should hide it." Unusually, she checked herself in the mirror. Satisfied. The outfit even sparked a flicker of masculine confidence—an unexpected bonus. She snapped her fingers. *Me. Handsome guy.*

Cen Man tilted her head, watching Feng Yijiu emerge in windbreaker and sunglasses. *Aren’t you going to the library? You look more like a secret agent.*

But Feng Yijiu was already pedaling her beloved bike, riding cheerfully toward the library.