A Little Trick, the Scumbag Dad Can’t Hold the Knife After Understanding Love

That night, father and daughter barely slept.

Ji Nian cried all evening, and Ji Tingzhou stayed by her side until she finally exhausted herself, wrapped in a blanket and falling asleep in his arms.

Even in sleep, tears lingered at the corners of her eyes, her arms tightly clutching Da Dan, who had already passed.

Da Dan was bundled in the blanket with her, as if to ensure the little dog would remain warm on its journey, untouched by the cold.

Zhiliao emerged from the shadows.

Without a word, she bent down and carefully pried Da Dan from Ji Nian’s embrace, needing some effort to separate the two.

"You should have told her."

Zhiliao glanced at Ji Nian, still restless in Ji Tingzhou’s arms, tears still slipping free, and spoke softly.

Ji Tingzhou wiped away the tear with a handkerchief, his voice steady. "I didn’t know it would be today."

Da Dan was an old dog, and with age came increasing ailments. The vet had been examining him almost daily, and a few days prior, had warned Ji Tingzhou that his time was near.

That very evening, Ji Nian had come to Ji Tingzhou to discuss whether they could all wear dog ears for Da Dan’s upcoming birthday.

Since Da Dan had no dog friends to invite, Ji Nian suggested they dress up as dogs themselves to be his companions.

Under normal circumstances, Ji Tingzhou would have refused without hesitation—such childish, aesthetically questionable accessories were beneath him.

But remembering the vet’s words and seeing the hopeful sparkle in Ji Nian’s eyes, the word "no" lodged in his throat like an awkward, stubborn thing.

Ji Tingzhou had planned to tell Ji Nian after the birthday, but death arrived ahead of schedule, shattering everything.

He wanted Ji Nian to learn to face loss, yet he couldn’t help feeling she was too young for such a harsh lesson.

Ten years ago, Ji Tingzhou would never have imagined himself hesitating like this.

...

When Ji Nian woke up, her eyes were surprisingly unswollen. Spotting Ji Tingzhou by her bedside, she belatedly realized he must have iced them for her during the night.

She sat up slowly, meeting Ji Tingzhou’s cautious gaze.

The sight almost made her laugh.

Since when had Ji Tingzhou ever looked so tentative?

"I’m okay, Dad."

"I remember everything from last night. Sleeping helped. Da Dan left peacefully, without pain. He was... a very lucky dog."

She patted his knee reassuringly, then squinted at the shadows under his eyes. "You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you? Go rest. I’m really fine now."

Ji Tingzhou studied her skeptically.

Compared to the inconsolable child from the night before, Ji Nian did seem composed.

His hand hovered briefly before settling on her head.

"Take a few days off."

Ji Nian considered it. "Just two. Exams are coming up."

Elementary school had been easy—adult knowledge gave her an edge. But middle school in S City was a different beast. The students here were relentless, wealthy and fiercely competitive, especially in English. Shen Qingtang was even planning to take the IELTS next year.

Ji Tingzhou didn’t want to pressure her, but her pride drove her, and ambition wasn’t a bad thing.

"Rest more if you’re unwell. There’s still... arrangements to make for Da Dan."

Ji Nian grinned and nudged him toward the door. "I’m not unwell. Go sleep, Dad."

As he reached the doorway, Ji Tingzhou turned back. "Da Dan—"

Ji Nian nodded calmly, anticipating his question. "I want to bury him in the Quiet Garden. He loved playing fetch there."

Ji Tingzhou agreed without hesitation.

"Alright."

"I’ll handle the rest."

The atmosphere in the Ji household that morning was a stark contrast to the usual cheer—heavy and subdued.

"It still doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting to see Da Dan when I hang the laundry, baring his teeth to scare me off."

"Last year, some stray tried to bite me, and Da Dan charged out to chase it away. I shared my lunch with him as thanks, and he spat it out in disgust."

"The young miss must be heartbroken. She played with Da Dan the most."

"I saw Brother Zheng earlier—his eyes were swollen like walnuts."

Whispers like these drifted through every corner of the house.

When Shen Qingtang heard about Da Dan’s passing, she skipped her morning run to join Ji Nian for breakfast.

Ji Nian seemed steadier than expected, but something about her still felt fragile.

"I’m okay now."

Ji Nian repeated the phrase all morning to well-wishers.

Everyone hovered around her, expressions cautious—except for Zhiliao, who remained composed, though she did gently touch Ji Nian’s cheek when seeing her off.

After breakfast, they gathered for Da Dan’s funeral.

Wei Yang, summoned by Zhiliao the night before, had rushed out to... invite a monk and arranged everything needed for the ceremony overnight.

The funeral took place in the Quiet Garden, as Ji Nian requested.

Despite its name, the garden was anything but quiet—a wild, untamed space where nature ruled. But it had been Da Dan’s favorite playground, where he loved chasing balls.

Da Dan lay on a flower-covered altar, surrounded by his toys, collar, and photographs.

"The two of you may groom him one last time," the funeral officiant said, gesturing for Ji Tingzhou and Ji Nian to brush Da Dan’s fur.

Ji Nian stared at the motionless dog, half-expecting him to suddenly open his eyes and tug at her clothes, demanding play.

The monk’s chanting and muffled sobs filled the air. The entire ceremony passed in a haze—Ji Nian didn’t even remember returning home.

When she finally looked up, Shen Qingtang’s worried, red-rimmed gaze met hers.

"Take ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‍a few more days off," Shen Qingtang urged, touching Ji Nian’s pale face.

Ji Nian shook her head.

"No. I’ll go back to class once everything’s settled with Da Dan."

"Exams are close."

She repeated the same excuse she’d given Ji Tingzhou.

Only Ji Nian knew the truth.

Every time she closed her eyes, Da Dan was there.

She needed distraction—something to keep her moving.

Back in her past life, when the lab burned down and took her clever, silly rabbit with it, she’d done the same.

If she poured herself into other things, the grief couldn’t catch up. Eventually, time would dull the pain, and one day, she’d realize it no longer hurt.