"Huaijin?" Yuanfeng whispered from the front seat, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

"Yes, Papa?"

"You have a leaf in your hair."

"It’s a ’Victory Leaf,’ Daddy. Leave it there."

Yuanfeng smiled. "As you wish, my Little Dragon. As you wish."

My Little Dragon! My mini-physicist! Don’t you even think of taking a share of her cuteness! I am the one who provided the genetic blueprint for those chubby cheeks! I am the one who endured the "Rattler’s" exhaust to bring her here!

The picnic was winding down, the golden hour painting the park in shades of honey and amber. The "Main Character" Song Jue had retreated to his family’s fancy tent to scrub muffin crumbs off his ego, leaving the Chi cousins in a state of blissful, mud-caked peace.

But while the children were resting, a new, much more silent war was being waged on the periphery of the picnic blanket.

It was a war of glances, a clash of auras, and a high-stakes competition for the title of "Huaijin’s Favorite Grown-Up of the Day."

Professor Yuanfeng, still proudly sporting his neon-orange propeller hat (which was now slightly askew but still spinning with localized determination), was packing up the specimen jars. However, his "Physicist’s Intuition" was screaming.

He felt a persistent, high-intensity gaze directed toward his most precious variable: Huaijin.

He looked up, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. There, standing precisely three paces behind the seated children, was Luo Ming.

The butler looked like he had stepped out of a luxury watch advertisement. Despite the humidity, the mud, and the "Chaos Picnic," not a single hair was out of place.

He was watching Huaijin with a look that Yuanfeng could only describe as "Dangerous Appreciation." It was a sharp, observant stare, the look a master jeweler gives a flawless diamond, or a secret agent gives a high-value target.

What. Is. He. Looking. At? Yuanfeng’s brain sizzled with indignation.

He knew Luo Ming was "borrowed" from Grandpa Chi. He knew the man was supposed to be the best butler in the hemisphere. But there was a line! A very thick, neon-orange line!

That is my daughter! Yuanfeng thought, his grip tightening on a plastic sandwich container. My Little Dragon! My mini-physicist! Don’t you even think of taking a share of her cuteness! I am the one who provided the genetic blueprint for those chubby cheeks! I am the one who endured the "Rattler’s" exhaust to bring her here!

Yuanfeng shifted his position, physically moving his body to block Luo Ming’s line of sight. He pretended to be very interested in a nearby dandelion, but his shoulder was firmly planted like a shield in front of Huaijin.

’Take that, you handsome menace,’ Yuanfeng gloated internally. The path of observation is now obstructed by 180 pounds of protective fatherhood!

Luo Ming, however, was not the "Best Butler in the Hemisphere" for nothing. He didn’t even blink.

He took half a step to the left, adjusting his angle with the grace of a professional ballroom dancer, and continued his observation.

He wasn’t just looking at her "cuteness." He was analyzing her. He saw the way she had handled Song Jue.

He saw the way she was subtly managing Yuanying’s ego and Song’s stress levels. To Luo Ming, Huaijin wasn’t just a child; she was a tiny, brilliant commander in a propeller hat.

He felt a deep sense of respect for the little girl, and a mounting amusement at her father’s blatant jealousy.

Yuanfeng saw the butler move. He adjusted again, stepping further left. Luo Ming stepped right. It was a silent, absurd tango on the grass.

Finally, Yuanfeng turned his head and gave Luo Ming a look of pure, unadulterated warning. It was the look a lion gives a hyena that is standing too close to the cub’s favorite rock.

His eyes flashed behind his lenses: Back off, Suit-Man. The cuteness is proprietary. No sharing.

Luo Ming met the Professor’s gaze. Instead of looking away or acting intimidated, he did something much worse. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a "Handsome" Smile.

It wasn’t a mean smile. It was a perfectly polite, impeccably charming, and devastatingly "cool" smile. It was the smile of a man who knew he could brew better tea, fold better napkins, and, crucially, was currently being much more "dignified" than a man in a propeller hat.

Oh, he’s doing it on purpose! Yuanfeng’s blood pressure spiked. He’s using his handsomeness as a weapon! That’s a foul! Emotional manipulation in a recreational setting!

"Papa?" Huaijin’s sleepy voice broke the tension.

She was rubbing her eyes, her yellow boots tucked under her. She looked up at the two men, sensing the weird "vibe" in the air.

"Yes, my star?" Yuanfeng said, dropping his "Lion Face" instantly and replacing it with a goofy, doting smile. "Are you tired? Do you want to go back to the Rattler?"

"In a minute," Huaijin yawned. She looked over at Luo Ming. "Mr. Luo Ming, did you enjoy the ’Contract of Joy’? Did we win the hunt?"

Yuanfeng froze. Contract... of what? 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Luo Ming stepped forward, bypassing Yuanfeng’s "shield" with ease. He reached into his pocket and produced the empty stick of the strawberry lollipop.

"The contract has been fulfilled, Little Miss," Luo Ming said, his voice smooth as silk. "The scavenger hunt was a total victory. Your leadership was... exemplary."

Yuanfeng’s jaw dropped. He looked from the butler to his daughter. "Huaijin? What contract? What is he talking about?"

Huaijin looked a bit sheepish. She forgot that her Daddy didn’t know about her "executive negotiations."

"I... I gave him a strawberry lollipop, Papa," she whispered, playing with the strap of her overalls. "To make sure he came with us. I needed a professional on the team. For the tea. And the ants."

BETRAYAL.

The word echoed in Yuanfeng’s mind like a gong.

She bought him? With a lollipop? That was my move! I’m the one who provides the treats!

He felt a wave of existential dread. Was he being replaced by a man who knew how to starch a collar? Did his daughter think his "Poor Scholar" budget wasn’t enough to secure the best allies?

Luo Ming looked at Yuanfeng, the "Handsome" smile widening just a fraction of a millimeter. It was a look of pure, concentrated victory. ’I feel bad for you but she chose me, Professor. And she paid in premium strawberry sugar.’

"I’m sleepy," Huaijin announced, her head nodding.

Instantly, both men sprang into action.

Luo Ming, with the speed of a ninja, whipped out a cashmere travel blanket from a hidden compartment in the picnic basket. It was soft, grey, and looked like it cost more than Yuanfeng’s car.

"Allow me, Little Miss," Luo Ming said, unfolding it with a crisp snap.

"NO!" Yuanfeng shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly. A few nearby birds took flight. "I mean... no thank you, Butler Luo! I have the Official Dragon Nesting Jacket!"

Yuanfeng scrambled to take off his slightly worn corduroy jacket. He tried to lay it over Huaijin, but it was a bit lumpy and smelled faintly of whiteboard markers.

"The cashmere is hypoallergenic and temperature-regulating, Professor," Luo Ming pointed out calmly, holding the soft blanket.

"My jacket has Paternal Pheromones!" Yuanfeng countered, which was a very weird thing to say out loud. "It provides a sense of familiar security!"

Huaijin looked at the beautiful cashmere. Then she looked at the lumpy, ink-stained jacket. She saw the desperate, "please-love-me-more" look in her Daddy’s eyes.

She reached out and grabbed the corduroy jacket, pulling it over her head like a tent. "I like the jacket, Papa. It smells like Science."

Yuanfeng let out a breath he had been holding for five minutes. He shot a look of absolute, triumphant smugness at Luo Ming. Science beats Cashmere! Every! Single! Time!

Luo Ming didn’t look bothered. He simply folded the cashmere blanket back up. "A wise choice, Little Miss prefers to be functional over aesthetic. That’s very... strategic."

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, it was time to leave. Luo Ming began loading the fancy van with the cousins, while Yuanfeng prepared to lead the way in "The Rattler."

Huaijin was already half-asleep in the back of the van, her head resting on a pillow Luo Ming had "magically" produced.

Yuanfeng stood by the van door, one last time, looking at Luo Ming.

"You did a good job today, Luo Ming," Yuanfeng said, his voice gruff. He tried to look like a dignified Professor, but the propeller on his hat chose that moment to give one final, pathetic little spin.