"Yang Yi" had a daughter—and she was his biological daughter!
After merging with his predecessor's memories, Yang Yi understood how it had come about, but he hadn't yet mentally prepared himself to face everything belonging to this body. Moreover, the one waiting outside the door was the daughter that the original "Yang Yi" had cherished most dearly!
Just moments ago, when he heard his daughter's voice, the tenderness radiating from him was the lingering soul imprint of the original "Yang Yi" at work—something utterly impossible to erase!
Yet, even though in his past life he had been a cold-blooded killer who feared nothing, Yang Yi now found himself flustered—he didn't know how to face her, terrified of being exposed in front of his daughter...
But Xixi's expectant calls from outside reached Yang Yi's ears, and the longing surging within him made him, despite his fear, unable to resist turning and walking toward the door.
The stiff wooden door and the cold iron door were opened by Yang Yi, and a small face came into his view.
It was a face as exquisite as a princess from a fairy tale—delicate eyebrows and a dainty nose inherited from her mother, while her sparkling, translucent big eyes and thin, petal-like lips bore a strong resemblance to Yang Yi.
Not only was she as lovely as a porcelain doll, but Xixi was also dressed by her mother like a little princess: a pale pink lace tulle skirt, white stockings, and little black shoes—she looked exceptionally elegant and adorable!
Xixi was far from the reserved demeanor her mother dressed her in. The little girl, not yet four years old, was at a lively age. Spotting her father, she joyfully bounced up, stretching out her slender little arms for a hug.
Yang Yi hurriedly bent down, his movements a bit awkward as he scooped Xixi up.
"Daddy, Xixi missed you so much!" The little girl giggled happily, then clung to her father's neck, coquettishly asking, "Did Daddy miss Xixi?"
The little one was soft as if boneless, carrying a milky scent. Holding her felt like embracing the happiness of the entire world.
Feeling her dependence, even Yang Yi's heart, as cold as eternal ice, softened into tenderness. He blurted out, "Yes, of course I did!"
Perhaps it was still the influence of his predecessor's soul imprint, but Yang Yi had already merged with those memories. He knew that because her mother was busy, Xixi hadn't come for nearly half a month, and Yang Yi's longing for his daughter had turned him into a "waiting stone." So his answer was utterly sincere!
Xixi was very satisfied with her father's reply. The little one giggled, leaned in, and gave him a sweet, fragrant kiss as a princess's reward.
Yang Yi froze for a moment, then looked down, gazing again and again at the bright-eyed little one in his arms. A sense of pride swelled in his heart: This is my daughter, Yang Xi!
Whether it was the original "Yang Yi's" soul imprint at work or not, Yang Yi himself found himself liking her more and more with every look. The tenderness in his eyes completely overshadowed the vigilance and wariness that had never faded from his past life.
After fussing with Xixi for a while, Yang Yi finally had a moment to glance at his sister-in-law, who was growing impatient beside them...
"Is Mofei not coming?" Yang Yi felt a pang of disappointment but also secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Mofei was Xixi's mother, but she wasn't anything to Yang Yi—not an ex-wife, not even a girlfriend... In fact, she was a superstar at the level of a pop diva!
The story behind this was long, but to put it simply, Yang Yi and Mofei's union was a twist of fate. Yet, from that one accidental encounter, Xixi was conceived. Mofei chose not to have an abortion but instead quietly retired from the entertainment industry and gave birth to the child abroad in secret.
It wasn't until Xixi was over two years old that Yang Yi, who had come to Jiangcheng for work, unexpectedly ran into Mofei and learned he was a father...
Regardless, Xixi needed a father, and Mofei was willing to arrange for Xixi and Yang Yi to spend time together. But perhaps due to the gap in their status, Yang Yi and Mofei's relationship had made no progress over the past year.
Mo Xiaojuan, Mofei's cousin and personal assistant, looked down on Yang Yi as a "scumbag" and a "loser." She said impatiently, "Feifei is busy recording songs and doesn't have time to come!"
Mo Xiaojuan didn't want to stay with Yang Yi any longer. She had always harbored resentment over Mofei's sudden retirement, believing it had completely hindered her career, and she placed all that blame on Yang Yi.
"Alright, Xixi is delivered now. I need to get back—Feifei has a schedule today!" Mo Xiaojuan said with a haughty huff, setting Xixi's little backpack on the suitcase beside her.
But when she spoke to Xixi, her tone softened: "Xixi, say goodbye to Auntie! I'll come pick you up the day after tomorrow."
Xixi was snuggled in her father's arms and had no intention of getting down. The little one giggled, turned her head, and waved goodbye to Mo Xiaojuan, who then turned and left with satisfaction.
Still, Mo Xiaojuan showed no warmth toward Yang Yi, nor did she bother to say goodbye to him.
...
"Creak, creak, creak..." The old fan twisted and groaned as it oscillated, making an unpleasant noise.
It only highlighted the awkward silence.
Yes, after Mo Xiaojuan left, Yang Yi was alone at home with the little one. Suddenly, he panicked, unsure of what to do...
Xixi sat on the bed, her slender legs wrapped in white stockings dangling down, gently swinging. The little one blinked her big, watery eyes, watching her father pace back and forth, scratching his head and ears, not quite understanding what was going on.
Yang Yi was actually extremely nervous. In a disguised state, he could chat and laugh with targets at high-end parties or casually flirt with women in lowly places.
But faced with his own daughter, the purest little being in the world, Yang Yi was completely at a loss. He didn't know how to communicate, let alone how to take care of a little girl!
"Um, Xixi, do you want some more water?" After holding it in for a while, Yang Yi turned his attention to the cup on the nightstand—a move he'd already used two minutes ago...
Xixi had just drunk a big glass and was already hiccupping. Hearing her father's question, she pouted and waved her hands repeatedly: "No, no, Xixi doesn't want water, I'm so full!"
Well, it seemed awkward again...
Yang Yi grew anxious inwardly.
Fortunately, Xixi broke the silence. She remembered so many things she wanted to tell her father over the past half-month. The little girl twisted around, her stocking-clad little legs half-kneeling on the bed, and pulled over her backpack, unzipping it.
"Daddy, look, look!" Xixi happily took out a large sketchbook, flipping it open and pointing at it for Yang Yi to see. "I drew this! It took me so long!"
On the sketchbook was a rough colored pencil drawing. In the sky, a round sun was drawn; below, a brown house stood, and on the grass in front of the house, three stick-figure-like little people were standing.
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Yang Yi sat down on the edge of the bed. Xixi immediately crawled into her father's arms like a puppy, finding a comfortable spot to lean against him.
Afraid her father wouldn't understand, she pointed at the little figures one by one and introduced them: "This is Xixi, this is Daddy, and this is Mommy!"
The three little figures stood hand in hand on the grass, with the smallest Xixi in the middle, holding her parents' hands.
The quality of the drawing aside, the little one leaning against him made Yang Yi both flustered and delighted...
For some reason, listening to Xixi's innocent words felt so warm. Yang Yi seemed to have already grown attached to this taste of happiness.
Maybe living like this wouldn't be so bad.