A small crowd had somehow gathered around them without anyone noticing. The moment Can-Can declared her words, a ripple of low chuckles spread through the onlookers.

Gu Chi’s face flushed a bright red. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the shop assistant trying hard not to laugh. He coughed twice in embarrassment.

“Well… about this dragon…”

He had originally wanted to save face by tossing out a cool “Forget it” and walking off like it was no big deal. After all, it was already pretty humiliating to be caught fighting a toddler over a plushie. Especially when said toddler had proudly declared she wouldn’t even fight with him over it—using that syrupy little baby voice to show more maturity than him. If word got out, his dad would probably be so ashamed he’d kick him out of the house.

Letting go of the pink dragon was definitely the most elegant solution. But the thing was… Gu Chi loved dragons. He had since he was a kid, to the point of no return.

While other children watched Journey to the West and imagined themselves as the all-powerful Monkey King, Gu Chi was different.

He believed he was the Dragon King—with horns on his head, living every day in the grand palace under the East Sea.

Not only that, his house was packed with dragon figurines, green dragon onesies, traditional ink paintings of dragons, and old books full of dragon myths and legends. His father, Gu Jueyan, scolded him every time and never missed a chance to say, “Even the Dragon King doesn’t love dragons this much.”

The pink dragon plush had been too cutesy for him at first. But the way it slept curled up on the branch outside the window—it was too cute. Something about it softened him, tugging at a strange familiarity. Like maybe… in some past life, there really had been a soft little dragon curled up beside him just like this.

With that thought, Gu Chi really couldn’t bring himself to give it up.

But the teasing gazes from the crowd burned into him, making his ears hot. After wrestling with himself for a while, he finally said in all seriousness, “That kid was kinda cute. I’m buying it for her.”

He paid for it, and under everyone’s curious stares, he didn’t even bother looking for Can-Can. He hugged the pink dragon and walked straight toward the parking lot.

**

Completely unaware that her “Daddy” had just taken the fall for her, Can-Can was now sitting obediently on the couch. Facing Pei Shen’s disbelieving question, she clenched her tiny fists and declared with full conviction, “He’s my daddy!”

Pei Shen rubbed his nose and thought for a few seconds, casting a hesitant glance at Can-Can before turning to Qi Sen, who hadn’t said a word since they got home.

“Can-Can says Gu Chi is her dad. You really believe that?”

Qi Sen was sitting by the window, gazing outside as if lost in thought. His expression was calm, but there was a hint of melancholy that caught Pei Shen off guard.

It was dusk. The setting sun poured golden light through the glass, painting Qi Sen’s brows in warm hues, making his quiet profile look even lonelier.

Can-Can clambered off her chair, her short legs carrying her over to Qi Sen. She pointed proudly at Pei Shen with a triumphant look. “Second Brother, you tell Third Brother—Daddy is our daddy, right?”

Pei Shen snapped out of it.

Wait… something was wrong with that sentence.

Of course a dad is a dad. The real question was—is Gu Chi the dad?

Pei Shen squatted down in front of the pint-sized gremlin who thought she knew everything but clearly didn’t. Just as he was about to gently unravel her flawed logic, Qi Sen’s voice interrupted him.

“He is.”

Pei Shen blinked. “What did you say?”

“Can-Can is right.”

Qi Sen said nothing more. He simply stood, took Can-Can’s hand, and asked gently, “What do you want for dinner?”

Can-Can answered without missing a beat: “Sausage!”

Qi Sen slowly walked toward the kitchen. Can-Can turned her head and looked at her still-dazed Third Brother, then happily hopped after Qi Sen, her twin pigtails bouncing with every step—lively and adorable as ever.

“Second Brother, can I help you cook?” she asked, eyes sparkling with innocence. Then she tilted her head proudly. “Third Brother says Can-Can’s cooking is the yummiest! I’m really good at it!”

Qi Sen glanced at the play kitchen toys dumped in the toy box and gave a helpless little nod.

Can-Can picked up a cabbage leaf and started rinsing it, piece by piece, humming a kiddie song she’d learned from cartoons as she worked:

🎵 “I’m a little baby who’s not afraid of work, I’m best at cooking, I never shirk! I wash the rice and stir the stew—uhhh something something woo~ I’m the quiet baby who always shines—hey!” 🎵

Some lyrics she didn’t remember, so she just mumbled made-up gibberish with full confidence and zero rhythm.

Qi Sen laughed. His hands swirled through the cold water as he washed vegetables, but his mind drifted back to what Qi Xiuming had said at lunch.

That man had called this place a wreck—something unfit for living.

But to him, it was home. Warm and alive.

Because the people he cared about were here, and that made it enough.

As he mused, Can-Can handed him cabbage leaf after cabbage leaf. Then, as she reached for the last one, something small, round, and very pink suddenly rolled across the floor and bonked into his foot.

Can-Can blinked her big round eyes, squatted down like she’d found treasure, and stared at the mysterious intruder. “Second Brother, the peach moved.”

Qi Sen had heard his fair share of toddler nonsense. Assuming she’d just chucked the peach at him, he didn’t even look down. Still focused on the stove, he replied absentmindedly, “Mm, yeah, it moved.”

Can-Can held up the last piece of cabbage in her tiny palms. “Second Brother, for you.”

Qi Sen took it, tossed it into the pot—and then something bumped into his foot again. And again.

“Can-Can, move the peach. Gege’s cooking.”

Can-Can obediently chirped, “Okay!”

She toddled toward the peach on her short legs, reaching out her little hand… and Qi Sen suddenly froze mid-step.

Wait.

Just now, Can-Can had been beside him handing him cabbage.

So who… or what… hit his foot?

Qi Sen slowly looked down.

A round, juicy-looking peach rolled up to his toes. It gave a lazy spin or two and then flopped to a stop like it had used up all its energy. No more movement.

Can-Can poked the peach gently, then looked up with a serious expression. “Gege, the peach is sleeping.”

Qi Sen rubbed his temples, trying to ease the exhaustion creeping in.

But the image of that self-moving peach kept looping in his head.

The world was a strange place.

He had been a celestial in his last life. A moving divine peach… wasn’t that surprising, right?