Qi Sen placed two rainbow candies into Can-Can’s small palm and reminded her gently,
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth after you eat them.”

Can-Can nodded seriously.
“I’ll use my little broom to sweep my teeth clean!”

Qi Sen sighed, helpless.
“That’s called a toothbrush.”

He stood, set the keys on the table, and politely nodded to Tao-Tao.
“I’ll be troubling you with Can-Can. Please take good care of her, and don’t open the door for anyone.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” Tao-Tao nodded frantically.

Just yesterday, she had let the little princess leave with the Emperor. After Qi Sen found out, his face had gone so cold it was terrifying. The memory alone still made her break out in cold sweat—there was no way she’d dare open the door for anyone again.

Anyway, in this world the little princess only knew three people: the two princes and the Emperor. Probably no one else would come looking for her.

That thought eased Tao-Tao’s nerves a little.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as she expected. Barely half an hour after Qi Sen left, someone knocked on the door.

“Is anyone home? We’re officers from the Shangcheng Subdistrict Police Station. Please open the door.”

Can-Can, who had been quietly drawing, looked up at the door with wide, confused eyes.

Back when she was still a little immortal, Third Brother had taught her many things about the human world. The most important one was: when you have a problem, find a police officer.

But… she didn’t have any problems right now?

Can-Can tiptoed carefully to the door and called out in her soft, milky voice,
“Big Brother said I can’t open the door.”

The two police officers standing outside glanced at each other. They hadn’t expected a real child to be in there.

“Little one, are you called Can-Can?”

“Yup!” Can-Can stood on her toes and answered loudly through the door.

Tao-Tao, panicked, rushed over and scooped Can-Can up, hurrying them both into the bedroom as she fumbled to call Qi Sen, her expression bitter.

Help! Why do people keep showing up for the little princess every single day?!

—

Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Pei Shen was in a fantastic mood.

He waved his phone gleefully.
“One of my tutoring students messaged me—your adoptive parents just got fired from the factory. And they might be going to jail! You happy now?”

Qi Sen quietly gripped his pen and continued working through formulas, expression unreadable. After a while, he replied flatly,
“Mn.”

Pei Shen gaped.
“This is huge news! Fireworks-worthy! And all I get is an ‘mn’?!”

Qi Sen: “Mn.”

Pei Shen: …You know what, forget it.

Might as well go back to studying.

Only a few seconds of peace passed before Pei Shen couldn’t help wriggling in his seat, looking around with an eager light in his eyes.

He was dying to know—what would it take to make Qi Sen actually react emotionally?

Winning five million in the lottery?
Getting the top score in the entire province on the college entrance exam?

While he was imagining all kinds of scenarios, Qi Sen’s phone suddenly buzzed.

Qi Sen answered it calmly, but after just two seconds, his expression darkened like a storm rolling in.

“What’s wrong?” Pei Shen asked, his tone suddenly anxious.

Qi Sen swallowed down the fury building in his throat.
“Something at home. You rest.”

Before he could even finish, he was already halfway out the door.

—

When Qi Sen arrived at the police station at a run, he saw Can-Can sitting on a bench, her little head bobbing like a sleepy baby bird. When she spotted him, she rubbed her eyes groggily and pointed,
“My brother’s here.”

A female officer smiled and brought over a cup of warm water.
“You’re such a good girl. Why don’t you lie down on the bench and rest a bit?”

Can-Can shook her head and clung tightly to Qi Sen’s hand, unwilling to let go even a little.

Qi Sen’s throat tightened. Even though he already guessed what this was about, he still clung to a sliver of hope and asked, voice strained,
“Is something wrong?”

The officer’s smile faded slightly.
“We received a report from a citizen. They said you took in a little girl you found on the street.”

Qi Sen’s gaze dimmed. That last shred of hope flickered out like the ashes of a spent firework.

“Is she your biological sister?” another officer asked.

Qi Sen had no idea how to explain.

He rubbed his brows wordlessly, his face showing nothing but exhaustion.

Too much had happened in one day—Pei Shen’s hospitalization, and now Can-Can’s situation was being exposed.

He thought of his birth parents, and his expression grew even darker.

Can-Can’s sleepiness had faded. Her baby voice rang out clear and proud:
“Yes, I am!”

“This is my Second Brother, and my Third Brother is sleeping in the hospital. I don’t know where my daddy is, but he bought rainbow candy for me earlier today!”

The police had heard this exact story at least ten times already. They smiled politely now, but clearly didn’t believe a word of it.

According to Can-Can, her daddy was Gu Chi, the son of the nation’s richest man. Her Third Brother was a genius scholar, her Second Brother was heir to a jewelry empire, and her Eldest Brother was a top-tier celebrity.

Three brothers, each more amazing than the last. And her dad? Straight-up unbeatable—son of a billionaire.

Every officer in the room was thinking the same thing:
Everyone knows Gu Chi is only twenty years old. How the heck would a twenty-year-old have an eighteen-year-old child?!

Couldn’t the kid at least try to make her lies a bit more believable?

A collective wave of despair swept through the police station.

One officer said more sternly,
“We need to locate this child’s legal guardians as soon as possible.”

“What if you can’t?” Qi Sen asked.

“If we can’t, she’ll be sent to a children’s shelter. If she’s found to have been abandoned, she may eventually be placed in an orphanage and made available for adoption.”

The female officer handed Qi Sen a glass of water.
“Do you know where her parents are?”

Qi Sen didn’t answer.

Instead, he asked,
“If you can’t find her parents, can’t I keep her?”

Before the question had even fully landed, another officer let out a bitter laugh.
“And how would you do that? You’re still a student. She won’t have household registration, can’t go to school—how’s she supposed to live in this world where everything requires an ID?”

They looked at Can-Can, then back at Qi Sen’s silent face, their own expressions weary.

The child’s entire story was like a whimsical fairy tale. How were they supposed to track down her so-called family?

In their experience, cases like this rarely turned out well. Odds were high that she’d end up in the system.

“Can I take her home for now?” Qi Sen asked.
“She only trusts me.”

That much, the police had also noticed.