Yuanfeng winced. "The Rattler is a classic, Huaijin. If we bury it, it might decide to never wake up again."

"But I’m so excited!" she cheered, her pigtails doing a celebratory shimmy. "Yuanying says there are ice sculptures shaped like swans, and we’re going to stay in a house with a fireplace that’s as big as our whole bathroom!"

Yuanfeng felt a familiar, sharp pang in his chest.

Envy.

He was the one who had raised her. He was the one who knew the exact temperature she liked her milk. And yet, here she was, vibrating with joy at the prospect of spending a whole week away from him with the "Manor Kids."

North Mountain, he thought bitterly. With its fancy fireplaces and its swans. ’What’s so great about a swan? A swan is just a goose with an ego. I could build her a swan out of liquid nitrogen if I wanted to!’

He hated that he had to share her. He hated that the Chi cousins, the kids he used to think of as "The Vultures," were now the stars of her dinner-table stories.

But just as the jealousy started to turn his expression a bit sour, Huaijin did the one thing that always, without fail, completely dismantled his defenses.

She stopped her dancing, walked over to his chair, and climbed into his lap like she was still three years old. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his sweater, and let out a long, contented sigh.

"But I’m going to miss you the mostest, Papa," she mumbled into his shoulder.

Yuanfeng’s heart didn’t just melt; it evaporated into a cloud of pure paternal fluff.

"You will?" he asked, his voice suddenly three octaves higher.

"Mhmm. Who’s going to make sure your socks match if I’m not here? And who’s going to tell you when you have ink on your nose?" She squeezed him tighter. "Maybe I shouldn’t go. Maybe I should stay here, and we can just put ice cubes in the bathtub and pretend it’s a mountain."

Over the last two years, instead of growing more "independent," Huaijin had become a world-class "Koala Child." She followed him from room to room.

She insisted on "helping" him with his papers, which usually meant adding stick-figure drawings to his quantum physics diagrams.

The Huaijin Clinginess Index (HCI):

Level 1: Holding onto his pinky finger while walking.

Level 2: Sitting on his feet so he has to "penguin-walk" to the fridge.

Level 3: The "Neck-Lock" hug that prevents all respiratory functions but maximizes heart-warmth. (Current Status: Level 3)

"No, no," Yuanfeng said, his hands shaking slightly as he hugged her back. "You have to go. You need to be with your cousins. You need to... grow and have friends."

He said the words, but his brain was shouting: STAY! WE HAVE PLENTY OF ICE CUBES!

"You’re the best Papa in the whole galaxy," Huaijin whispered, giving him a sticky, cocoa-flavored kiss on the cheek.

Yuanfeng closed his eyes. In the boardroom of Chronos Corp, he was a man of ice and steel.

He could negotiate a billion-dollar merger without blinking. But here, held hostage by a small girl in red mittens, he was absolutely powerless.

Yuanfeng knew he was being irrational. He knew that Huaijin’s bond with the cousins was a good thing. It was a "Positive Change" in the family tree. By letting her go to North Mountain, he was allowing her to cement her place in the Chi hierarchy, ensuring she would always have allies.

He had to put his rivalry with the elders aside. He had to tolerate Luo Ming’s "Handsome Observation." He had to endure his brother Yuantian’s condescending looks.

Because at the end of the day, when the snow melted, and the festival was over, Huaijin wouldn’t be running back to the Manor. She wouldn’t be looking for Song Jue or the Chairman.

She would be coming back to this small, drafty apartment. She would be looking for the man in the moth-eaten sweater who smelled like ink and old books.

"Okay," Yuanfeng said, standing up while still holding her, which was getting harder as she grew, but he refused to admit it. "Let’s finish packing. If you’re going to a mountain, you’re going to need the High-Thermal Socks I ordered."

"Are they neon orange, Papa?"

"Of course they are. Visibility is the first rule of survival!"

As they headed back to her bedroom, Yuanfeng felt a renewed sense of purpose. Chronos Corp would keep growing. The profits would keep rolling in.

He would remain the "Poor Scholar" for as long as she needed a simple life, but he would remain the "Shadow King" for as long as the world remained a dangerous place.

His daughter was going to the North Mountain. She was going to be a princess for a week.

But as she reached back to pat his messy hair, Yuanfeng knew the truth.

I might be the one making the money, he thought, but she’s the one who owns the whole empire.

***

The North Mountains didn’t just look like mountains; they looked like a giant’s teeth, sharp and white, biting into the frozen blue of the winter sky.

This wasn’t a trip to a theme park with neon lights and popcorn. This was a Pilgrimage of the Mind, or as Grandpa Chi called it, "Character Building."

Huaijin stood at the base of the winding mountain path, wrapped in so many layers of wool and down that she felt more like a sentient marshmallow than a girl.

Her pigtails were tucked under a thick, cream-colored beanie with a fuzzy pom-pom, and her breath emerged in long, rhythmic puffs of steam.

"The Abbot lives way up there?" she whispered, looking toward the peak where a tiny, golden-roofed temple sat nestled among the clouds. "Do we have to walk, or does he have a giant eagle that picks us up?"

The group gathered at the trailhead was a strange sight. But the most interesting thing wasn’t the scenery; it was the Social Hierarchy of the Servants.

Chi Song, having turned twelve six months ago, was officially a "Free Agent." In the Chi family, twelve was the magical number where you were no longer considered a "clumsy baby" who might accidentally fall into a fountain.

His assigned butler, who had followed him like a silent shadow for four years, had been reassigned. Song now carried his own gear, a high-tech, lightweight hiking pack, and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking like a young explorer.

He looks so lonely without a shadow, Huaijin thought, squinting at her cousin. But he also looks like he’s finally allowed to breathe.

Yuanying, however, was not so lucky. Being ten, she was still in the "Danger Zone." Behind her stood Butler Lin, a woman with a face as stiff as an ironing board and a habit of clicking a stopwatch every time Yuanying stopped to look at a pretty rock.

"Miss Yuanying, your pace is 0.5 meters per second below the optimal threshold," Butler Lin droned. "Please adjust your stride."

Yuanying let out a groan that could have started an avalanche. "She’s like a human backpack, Huaijin! I can’t even sneeze without her recording the decibel level!"

Then, there was Huaijin.

Because she lived with the "Poor Scholar" Yuanfeng, she didn’t have a formal Manor Butler assigned to her. But she had something much better. She had Luo Ming.

Grandpa Chi had personally decreed that wherever the "Little Dragon" went, Luo Ming went. He wasn’t her "assigned shadow"; he was her Strategic Partner.

While the other bodyguards, the "Capital’s Best," a line of tall, silent men in black tactical gear, remained at a distance, Luo Ming stood right next to Huaijin. He was carrying a thermos that smelled of spiced apple cider and a bag of "Emergency Energy Truffles."

"If your legs feel like jelly, Little Miss, just signal," Luo Ming whispered. "I have a portable heating pad in my coat and enough chocolate to fuel a small village."

Huaijin beamed. ’With Butler Luo Ming here, I have the best cheat code in the world.’

But the peaceful dynamic was suddenly shattered by a sound like a troop of wild baboons attacking a drum set.

"I BET I CAN HIT THAT BIRD!"

"NO, I BET I CAN HIT THE BIRD AND YOUR HEAD!"

Emerging from the transport van were the Chaos Twins: Chi Kai and Chi Kun. They were the sons of Second Uncle, and they were the human equivalent of a hurricane trapped in a paper bag.