The Martial Artist Turned Movie Mogul-Chapter 985 - 984. Be obedient, don’t talk back.

Tang Shu had no intention of explaining things to the crowd—of course, to this day, she hadn’t even glanced at the livestream chat. She was solely focused on quickening her pace to get home and find her long-missing father.

Their arrival triggered a cacophony of calls from the poultry. Tang Shu casually grabbed a handful of feed from a wooden bucket hanging off the fence and tossed it to them, instantly quelling the commotion.

Then, she carelessly tossed her backpack onto an age-old stone, scanned the house quickly, room by room, and finally stopped at a low stone corner at the edge of the building.

There hung a military green coat—an oversized one, at that.

"Be careful—the stones here are iced over, it’s slippery."

"Thank you, Miss Tang, I’ll watch my step."

Tang Shu gave a brief reminder before taking the lead down the stone steps. A bone-chilling wind at least several degrees colder than outside swooshed through, nearly making the cameraman shiver again.

So cold... Is this place an icebox?!

But he guessed wrong. When he followed inside, he realized the place was something of a hidden haven, complete with a stream of running water trickling by. That gust he’d felt earlier was actually a draft blowing in from the mountain valley opposite.

"Dad."

"You’re back? Come over and give me a hand."

By the stream crouched a tall, imposing figure—indeed, imposing. Even though Father Tang tried to minimize his presence while foraging for herbs, his sheer size still made his rugged frame immediately noticeable to all.

The man was sitting perfectly upright, with one hand grasping a small shovel and the other hovering over a semi-transparent, semi-pink flower, battling an urge to act. His chiselled face exuded a serious determination, and his hands were dirtied with creek bed mud from the task.

Tang Shu promptly rolled up her sleeves, grabbed tools from a nearby rack, and crouched beside him. The two worked together seamlessly like seasoned partners, each movement fluid and in perfect sync until that lily-like plant was carefully moved from the soil to a water-filled container.

The cameraman and livestream audience had been watching for three minutes...

"Dad? Did she just say ’Dad’ earlier?"

"OMG, I actually saw my future father-in-law today! Hello, sir, you’re so handsome and distinguished!"

"Wait, this man doesn’t even look forty—are we sure he’s her Dad and not her older brother or something?"

"So this is that man’s father? Gotta say, he’s just as imposing as she is—fierce aura runs in the family!"

"Damn, Father Tang’s gotta be at least 6’3"—look at this hulk of a man! Totally fits the rugged image of a Northern guy~"

"Am I the only one curious about that lily-looking thing there? It seems like both Tang Shu and her dad treasure it deeply..."

"Same, I wanna know too, but I’m certain it’s no ordinary flower just by looking at it."

It was obvious to everyone that this thing was indeed prized. Both father and daughter handled it with immense care, and alongside the creek, some younger, undeveloped blossoms grew. When struck by the occasional sunlight, they appeared even more crystal-clear.

Father Tang now stood tall, carrying the snow lotus-filled container and heading out. His large frame was unmistakable under the livestream camera’s scrutiny.

Because of both his height and distance, the cameraman had to adjust the camera angle steeply.

"OMG, Father Tang is so tall! This man’s incredible!"

"Wow, so strikingly handsome—wait, weird calling her dad ’handsome,’ right? But he really doesn’t look his age—just wow."

"Nearly outpaced the camera, thank god the cameraman reacted quickly. Someone give him an extra drumstick tonight!"

"No doubts now—these two are definitely blood relatives. Tang Shu’s strong features really mirror Father Tang’s bold and prominent facial structure."

Father Tang temporarily became the livestream’s beloved figure, shifting the entire chat thread to increasingly peculiar discussions. Meanwhile, Father Tang refocused on the hardworking cameraman.

"And this is...?"

"Dad, he’s one of the crew members for this shoot. I’ve mentioned him to you."

"You mean the reality show?"

"Yes."

"Well, he’s a guest too—should treat him decently. Go brew some tea; it’s freezing, visitors might not handle it well."

"I’ll brew the tea—but have you eaten yet, Dad?"

"Are you the one who hasn’t eaten?"

Father Tang easily saw through his daughter’s hidden motives and mercilessly called her out. Tang Shu responded with an ingratiating smile, weakly conceding.

"How about I help you out?"

"...No need. I still value your distance from my kitchen. Don’t set it ablaze, just stay clear."

Tang Shu’s expression momentarily froze, "..."

"Pffft—s-sorry,"

The cameraman couldn’t hold back, grinning at the hilarity of the father-daughter duo—a daughter shamelessly sucking up for lunch, and a sharp-tongued yet soft-hearted dad who seemingly excelled in culinary arts.

The livestream erupted with countless "HAHAHA" responses, especially from Tang Shu’s long-time fans who gleefully unleashed mockery mode, role-playing dutiful trolls.

The trio eventually emerged from the cellar and entered the kitchen, where soon the sound of chopping vegetables resounded loud and rhythmic. Father Tang’s every move radiated master chef vibes—scallions and garlic disappeared in a blur—and Tang Shu stood pitifully at the kitchen entrance. Each attempt to step inside earned her an intimidating glare.

She: "..."

"HAHAHAHA, what’s with that disdainful look?"

"I’m dying... Does Father Tang know how hopeless Tang Shu is at cooking? Instantly reminded of all the variety shows she’s flopped through over the years."

"Let’s be real—left at home by herself, Tang Shu would starve, wouldn’t she?"

"She may be a hunting expert, but wow, total failure at cooking. Guess she didn’t inherit her dad’s gift at all."

Whether Father Tang was a culinary genius remained uncertain, but his knife skills and speed were unmatched. Within fifteen minutes, he had served two bowls of vegetable and shredded meat noodles. The burly man carried one bowl in each hand out of the kitchen, handing the last one to the cameraman.

"Eat."

"Mr. Tang, I’m working; this doesn’t feel appropriate."

"Set that thing on your shoulder over by the stones behind you, then have your meal first."

Head bowed over her noodles, Tang Shu covertly nudged the cameraman with her elbow and shot him a subtle glance.

Obey. Don’t argue.

Not only the cameraman but also every viewer in the livestream immediately decoded her look.

Completely spineless, utterly compliant, like a helpless child afraid of her dad.

The cameraman finally realized who truly ruled this household. He obediently set up his equipment, sat down on the rock-hard stool, and tucked into the noodles.

Father Tang looked highly satisfied as he glanced at his daughter.

"You’re leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes, this break’s pretty short. I’ll come back again in a month during the next holiday to spend more time with you."

"Later, visit your grandmother’s grave and light incense—don’t forget."

"Got it."

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