Father-Daughter Confrontation Line

Seeing Lin Mo sauntering through the school gates, the man who had been covertly observing from the entrance finally let out a long sigh of relief. He rubbed his stiff thighs, then crossed the street with practiced ease and plopped onto a plastic stool at the noodle shop across the way—a place that still had ninety-seven years to go before earning its "century-old establishment" title.

"Boss, one three-delicacy noodle, no spice, and a fried egg," he said softly, his gaze never leaving the school entrance.

A steaming bowl of noodles soon arrived. The man grabbed a cola from the fridge, stabbed a straw into it, and took a deep, satisfying sip. Only then did he leisurely pick up the disposable chopsticks and dig in.

He was President Jiang’s assistant’s assistant.

Yes, the assistant to the assistant.

Normally, he was busy running around the company, but recently, his superior had assigned him to tail Lin Mo.

No 24/7 surveillance—just from morning drop-off to evening pickup.

At first, he’d treated it like some high-stakes spy mission, arriving early, cap pulled low, eyes sharp enough to pierce through walls, terrified of missing even the slightest clue.

He’d even prepared different jackets, swapping them daily to avoid detection.

But after a few days, he realized it wasn’t that serious.

After all, high schoolers were creatures of routine—home to school, school to home.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

So, naturally, he started slacking off.

From hyper-vigilance to barely making it on time, and now? As long as he saw Lin Mo enter the school gates, he could comfortably enjoy his leisure time.

Honestly, this assignment was a godsend.

No real work, no need to put on a diligent front like at the office, where one wrong move could cost him his job.

Now? Watch the target enter school, then stroll to a nearby shop for a hot meal. Later, he could even hit up the internet café around the corner for a few rounds of gaming—pure bliss.

Half an hour before dismissal, he’d return to his post, pretend to observe, and call it a day.

Best of all? A steady daily stipend of a few hundred bucks for "fieldwork."

With that thought, he wolfed down the noodles, slurped up the broth, and let out a contented burp.

He checked his phone—not even 1 PM yet.

Plenty of time. He could squeeze in a couple of League matches at the café before heading back for the end of school.

But the moment he settled into his seat at the internet café, the police showed up.

--System: So, professional work should be left to professionals. Want to cultivate immortality? Come to me--

"You mean to tell me you couldn’t just deliver the meal inside when the young lady didn’t come out to get it?!"

Jiang Chengshan roared into the phone, veins bulging at his temples.

On the other end, the female assistant’s voice wavered with unease.

"President Jiang, I tried, but the school security wouldn’t let me in. I even contacted the homeroom teacher, who said the young lady was aware… but she just refused to come down."

So the crux of the matter was simple: Jiang Yunlu didn’t want to fetch her lunch.

The line fell silent for a few seconds, save for the assistant’s nervous breathing.

Jiang Chengshan exhaled sharply, forcing down his irritation.

"Fine. If she doesn’t want it, forget it. Keep an eye on things and report any developments."

Hanging up, the office plunged into dead silence. Jiang Chengshan tugged at his tie, frustration simmering.

He knew exactly why his daughter was upset with him.

It all came down to his refusal to let her attend evening self-study sessions.

What an idiot he’d been. Just when his relationship with Yunlu had thawed enough for casual conversation, he’d gone and ruined it again.

Now they were probably back to square one.

He hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, though.

Sinking into his executive chair, his mind raced for solutions.

But no matter how he twisted it, he couldn’t think of a way to fix this.

They’d been so close to reconciliation, and then he’d gotten cocky.

What now?

At this moment, Jiang Chengshan felt as helpless as a child who’d messed up.

Wait—reinforcements!

He immediately dialed Jiang Chengyue’s number, but the call was declined.

Busy, apparently.

A text came through:

"?"

"Good sister, dear sister, save your brother! This is an emergency!"

Jiang Chengshan’s tone was uncharacteristically humble, a far cry from his usual CEO demeanor.

After a pause, the reply arrived:

"Well, well. The sun rises in the west today? The great President Jiang actually begging for help?

Let me guess—did you ban our little Yunlu from school again, or did you finally stuff that Lin Mo kid into a sack?"

The message dripped with undisguised schadenfreude.

But it was eerily close to the truth.

Not allowing evening self-study wasn’t far off from banning school altogether.

Jiang Chengshan’s cheek twitched. His sister never minced words, always stripping him of dignity.

Still, he laid out the full story in his reply.

A long while later, the response came:

"Bravo, dear brother. Another masterpiece of parental failure. You already know how to make amends, but my advice? Come clean with Yunlu. Beg for mercy.

Let Yunlu handle her own affairs. She’s independent and sharp-minded. Have some faith in your own genes."

Setting down his phone, Jiang Chengshan sighed.

Talk to Yunlu directly, huh?

Just then, his male secretary entered.

"President Jiang, that Lin Mo boy is sharp. He noticed the tail and called the police."

Jiang Chengshan frowned. "He got caught? What kind of idiots did we hire?!"

"I had the guy take the fall. Should we hire a professional investigator? They’re more discreet."

Suddenly, Jiang Chengshan waved a hand, his voice laced with exhaustion—and a hint of relief.

"Never mind. Drop it."

The secretary blinked. "President Jiang?"

"I said, stop investigating Lin Mo," Jiang Chengshan repeated, enunciating each word.

"And cancel the class reassignment I asked you to arrange earlier."

"Yes, sir."

"One more thing." Jiang Chengshan looked up. "Get me Lin Mo’s contact details."

Though bewildered, the secretary nodded swiftly and retreated without another word.

Alone again, Jiang Chengshan leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

He needed to have a proper conversation. No matter what, he wouldn’t let his daughter get hurt.

If money could solve this, then money it would be.