Madam, Please Behave

Watching his daughter take small, careful bites of cotton candy, Liu Changqing felt his heart melt.

What father wouldn’t adore his daughter?

She was so lovable—everything she did, from refusing his help to tie her hair to making a messy ponytail herself, leaving her hair loose and scattered as she walked…

It was just too cute!

He glanced at Feng Shuyan.

Not as charming as my daughter, he thought to himself, unconsciously straightening his back with pride.

Soon, Liu Changqing brought the three of them to the small restaurant he had arranged over the phone. He booked a private room on the second floor, ensuring they’d have a quiet place to talk when Feng Shuyan’s father arrived.

If this had been the old Liu Changqing—before his transmigration—he might not have had the patience to meddle in someone else’s affairs. But ever since becoming a father, everything had changed.

When he saw Feng Shuyan squatting alone by the roadside the previous night, bearing visible marks of mistreatment, he couldn’t help but feel heartache.

He imagined how he would feel if it had been his own daughter sitting there. In such a situation, he’d hope that someone would help her instead of walking away indifferently.

And besides… Feng Shuyan was his daughter’s good friend.

“I want cola.”

Feng Shuyan tugged at Liu Changqing’s sleeve.

This time, he didn’t argue. After writing down a few dishes from the menu, he went downstairs to inform the staff.

Returning to his seat, he checked his phone for the time.

The father should be here by now, he thought. Maybe the location is too remote, and he’s having trouble finding it?

Just as this crossed his mind, the door was flung open with a loud bang.

“BANG!”

A man wearing a white shirt and dress pants, with slicked-back hair, stormed into the room carrying a briefcase.

He closed the door behind him and scanned the room.

When his eyes landed on Feng Shuyan, the tension in his face eased.

Then his gaze shifted to Liu Changqing, seated next to Feng Shuyan in a way that could be mistaken for him holding her captive.

The man placed the briefcase on the table and opened it.

“I know what you’re after—money. Take it. I understand how these things work. I didn’t call the police.”

Liu Changqing stared at the man, bewildered.

His eyes moved to the briefcase.

It wasn’t like in the movies where it would be stuffed to the brim with cash. Judging by the arrangement, it was probably only 150,000 to 160,000 yuan.

But still…

“Are you out of your mind?”

Looking at the man’s bloodshot eyes, which betrayed his lack of sleep, Liu Changqing’s frustration grew.

“Let’s set aside everything else for a moment. If I really had kidnapped your daughter, do you think this little money would be enough?”

“It’s all I have right now! I’ll borrow more. However much you want, I’ll find a way to get it!”

The man’s voice was shaky, his emotions clearly on edge.

Hearing their exchange, Feng Shuyan looked astonished.

“Chubby uncle, were you really planning to kidnap me?!”

“Shut up!”

Liu Changqing pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

Liu Changqing looked directly at Feng Qian and raised a finger.

“First, I didn’t kidnap your daughter.”

Then he raised a second finger.

“Second, the reason I spoke the way I did on the phone was because you didn’t even check your call history. Do you know how many times I called you?”

Finally, he raised a third finger, his expression growing serious.

“Third, how can you not know that your daughter is being abused?”

No one could act this convincingly. Feng Qian’s genuine love for his daughter was clear from his reaction: his relief upon seeing Feng Shuyan unharmed was genuine. But if that was the case, who was responsible for the injuries on her body?

From the moment Feng Qian entered the room, his nervous expression and the way his body relaxed upon confirming his daughter’s safety told Liu Changqing he was a loving father.

But the red, rope-like marks on Feng Shuyan’s wrists, coupled with her numb demeanor, told a different story.

Hearing Liu Changqing’s accusation, Feng Qian’s fatigue-stricken face froze. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“Abu… abuse?”

His lips trembled as he forced the word out.

“That’s… that’s impossible. It can’t be…”

“Impossible?”

Liu Changqing’s voice darkened as he asked the question. He grabbed Feng Shuyan’s small hand, raising her wrist to show the still-visible red marks from being tightly bound.

The imprint was clear, even after a night of rest. The red and swollen line on her wrist spoke louder than words.

Feng Qian stared at the marks on his daughter’s wrist, his face pale with disbelief.

He instinctively stepped back, his thoughts in turmoil.

“How… how could this happen? She wouldn’t… she couldn’t…”

“Are you sure you don’t already have the answer?” Liu Changqing retorted, his tone sharp.

“Call her and ask if Feng Shuyan has returned home.”

Feng Qian stood frozen, staring at his daughter’s face.

Feng Shuyan, however, avoided his gaze. Her father’s arrival elicited no visible emotion. She simply withdrew her hand from Liu Changqing’s grasp and began fiddling with the utensils on the table.

She seemed eerily calm, as she had been since Liu Changqing first met her.

Her maturity and detachment were not typical of a child her age. She had grown numb.

Feng Qian’s hands trembled as he tried to steady his breathing.

The room fell silent.

Liu Xiazhi’s mouth hung open in shock.

She glanced at her friend, finally understanding why Feng Shuyan had been so reserved and distant during their bath the previous night.

Her gaze shifted between her friend, her friend’s father, and Liu Changqing.

How did he notice?

Feng Qian took a deep breath and retrieved his phone, dialing a number he often called.

The room was so quiet that the faint “beep… beep… beep” of the ringing phone sounded deafening.

Finally, the call connected.

“Has Shuyan come home?” Feng Qian asked directly.

[“Ah… Shuyan just got back from school. She’s taking a bath now. I’ll have her call you in a bit.”]

“Let me talk to Shuyan,” Feng Qian insisted.

[“…”]

The silence on the other end spoke volumes.

The person on the line clearly hadn’t expected Feng Qian to deviate from his usual routine.

As the silence dragged on, the storm in Feng Qian’s eyes grew fiercer, and the rage bubbling within him threatened to boil over.

He ended the call abruptly, turning his gaze to Feng Shuyan.

But she didn’t meet his eyes. She continued to look down, quietly playing with the utensils in her hands.

“Shuyan…”

Feng Qian’s voice cracked with emotion.

The grown man’s eyes were red, his face flushed to a near-purple hue from the surge of emotions overwhelming him.

He reached out, wanting to hold his daughter.

But Liu Changqing stepped between them, blocking his path.

Feng Shuyan stopped fiddling with the utensils, but her eyes remained fixed on them. She didn’t look up at her father, her expression as indifferent as ever.

After a long silence, she finally spoke in her usual calm tone.

“Auntie is hurting too.”