The Main Characters Won't Stop Pampering Me!-Chapter 96: Home Tutor

The question was not rhetorical; it was the core dilemma of his existence.

Every decision, every calculated risk, and every deliberate act of self-imposed poverty was filtered through the single, non-negotiable variable: Huaijin’s safety and happiness.

He had meticulously crafted this entire reality, the poor scholar, the ancient car, the cramped apartment, as a fortress. He couldn’t afford to expose his true position, the immense wealth and power that came with his emperor title.

That exposure would instantly turn Huaijin into a target, a vulnerability for his rivals, a bargaining chip for his competitors, and a precious, glittering object for the avaricious. The risks were too high, the shadows too deep.

So, he played the part, sacrificing his comfort and true professional recognition for her peace.

And because he loved her so much, he couldn’t bring himself to say no to the things she genuinely wanted, or the people she gravitated toward.

He watched her make friends, build bonds, and extend her small, fierce loyalty to others, and he allowed it.

He wanted her to grow up safe, yes, but also happy, surrounded by people who loved and protected her so that no harm would come her way.

The real, unspoken terror was the thought of leaving one day.

Yuanfeng, the genius, was a man who planned for every contingency, calculated every probability of success or failure. But the future was an equation he couldn’t perfectly solve.

He was fully aware that the world he navigated, the high-stakes, ruthless world of the corporate elite and cutting-edge science, was inherently dangerous.

He had enemies who operated in the dark, and he knew that, one day, the facade might crumble, or he might have to make a sacrifice he couldn’t take back.

Therefore, he poured his entire existence into her, spoiling her with affection, security, and attention, hoping to create a deep, indelible reservoir of love that would sustain her, even if he were gone.

He wanted her memory of him to be so profound and absolute that it would act as a lifelong emotional armor. His love was a desperate, almost excessive attempt to insulate her from future pain.

He watched the library door, and the sight of her bright, unclouded smile, the smile that told him she was happy just to catch a glimpse of him, was a momentary balm to his soul, but also a source of deep, abiding pain.

The deepest ache, the sharpest terror that no amount of professional success or scientific brilliance could soothe, was the subject of Huaijin’s mother.

Huaijin was six. A child of that age, no matter how mature, no matter how clever, was bound to feel the absence of a maternal figure.

Yuanfeng didn’t believe for a second that the child never thought of her mother, who she is, what she looked like, or where she was now.

Huaijin never asked. She never cried. She never brought up the subject. She simply existed in this two-person world they had built, radiating an unwavering contentment in his presence.

And that worried Yuanfeng more than any tantrum or tearful inquiry.

’What if she suppressed those thoughts inside her and suffered in silence?’

Yuanfeng was a father who couldn’t bear seeing his daughter get bitten by an ant; the sight of a single tear, the smallest scratch, sent a wave of agonizing panic through him.

How could he possibly endure the pain that was greater than any existence in this world: the slow, insidious suffering of his child over the absence of her mother?

The pain of loss, of abandonment, of the unknown void?

He was a physicist; he sought truth. He knew that Huaijin, in her own way, was performing a complex, emotional calculus, protecting him from her pain, just as he protected her from the dangers of his life.

She saw his devotion, his commitment to her happiness, and she responded by sealing off the painful topic, presenting him with a perfect, untroubled surface.

This act of love, this suppression, terrified him. It was a time bomb of unresolved grief. He watched her grow and thrive, and every milestone, every laugh, every clever remark, every fiercely loyal hug, was tinged with the fear that he wasn’t enough, that he was failing to address the fundamental and empty space in her life.

His heart swelled with pride at her intelligence and resilience, but it ached with the knowledge that she carried a burden of unspoken sorrow for his sake.

His powerful empire couldn’t conjure her mother, and his genius couldn’t soothe a pain that was born of absence. It was his ultimate, crippling failure.

Yuanfeng was pulled from his painful reverie by a lingering sense of unease that had nothing to do with mothers or villains. It concerned Chi Song.

He had few doubts about Yuanying now. She was an open book of ambition and yearning.

Her attachment to Huaijin was transparent, a desperate attempt to soak up the unconditional love Huaijin exuded.

But Chi Song was different.

The eldest grandson was always calm, solemn, and modest.

He didn’t speak much. He didn’t offer effusive thanks. He didn’t actively participate in the scheming or the excitement.

He simply followed the little ones, a quiet shadow in the wake of the two bright, energetic girls. Outwardly, he seemed like a perfectly normal child, just a bit quiet and unnaturally calm for his age.

Yet, Yuanfeng’s trained intuition, the highly sensitive professional antenna honed by years of sniffing out fraud, hidden agendas, and psychological tells in the high-stakes corporate world, pricked at the edges of his consciousness.

Something is missing.

Yuanfeng, the physicist, saw him as an anomaly in the equation. Song wasn’t cold, but he wasn’t warm either.

He wasn’t arrogant like his father often was, but he wasn’t humble like his uncle pretended to be. His eyes held an ancient stillness, a lack of the usual childish flickering and distraction.

Yuanfeng recalled the moment Huaijin was outlining the picnic strategy; Song’s smile had been directed at Yuanying’s happiness, not the plan itself.

It suggested a deep, repressed loyalty. But beyond that?

Nothing.

He didn’t seem to be pursuing Huaijin’s attention, nor did he seem jealous of it. He was a perfect neutral entity.

’Is it possible he’s aware of his father’s pressure? Is his stillness a defense mechanism?’ Yuanfeng wondered, rubbing his temples. ’Or is he simply an introvert?’

He had analyzed market trends, predicted scientific breakthroughs, and unmasked corporate espionage rings with flawless accuracy, but he couldn’t read the heart of a ten-year-old boy.

The irony was not lost on him: his elaborate disguise was meant to protect Huaijin from danger, yet he was now deliberately leading her back into the very heart of the Chi family drama, and allowing her to form bonds with children whose future roles were still unclear. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Huaijin’s safety was his one constant, yet his love for her demanded he let her explore, risking unknown threats.

He looked at the empty hallway, imagining the three of them, his brilliant, strategic daughter, the desperate, yearning future villainess, and the quiet, unnervingly calm eldest grandson, now sitting in the silence of the library, the comic books Huaijin had chosen undoubtedly laid out between them.

He knew he shouldn’t linger. The Chairman was waiting.

Taking one last, deep breath of the cool, sterile air, Yuanfeng squared his shoulders.

He adjusted his simple shirt, smoothed the creases from his humble trousers, and adopted the slightly weary, distracted air of the poor scholar who was rich in love.

The Emperor stepped forward, ready to face the Chairman and the burdens of his false identity.

But his mind remained fixed on the three children, the unspoken pain of his daughter, and the unnerving, silent gaze of his eldest nephew.

He needed to settle these matters quickly and return to his fortress, where he could keep his greatest treasure safe and cling to her far too much.

The heavy oak doors of the Chi Manor library closed with a soft, authoritative thud behind the three children, immediately muffling the outside world and plunging them into an atmosphere of hushed, rarefied learning.

The room itself was a monument to wealth and intellect, with towering mahogany shelves lined floor-to-ceiling with leather-bound volumes, filling the air with the comforting scent of aged paper and fine wood polish.

Sunlight streamed through the high, arched windows, illuminating dancing motes of dust in the serene space.

Huaijin, Chi Song, and Yuanying walked in silently, their footsteps barely making a sound on the plush Persian rug.