Chapter 208: A Father’s Love for His Daughter

“Fang, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Dad. I just had a nightmare.”

“If you’re not feeling well, say something. Don’t tough it out.”

“Got it, Dad. I think you’re starting to sound like Mom.”

“What do you mean?”

“Getting more long-winded.”

“Haha, don’t like it? Well, tough luck! You’re my daughter after all, so you’ll just have to put up with my nagging.”

“How could I ever dislike you? Having an elder at home is like having a treasure. You only become more precious as you grow older.”

“I think you’re just getting cheekier.”

After returning from the fields, Lin Fang felt bored and took out the unfinished traditional-character novel she had been reading. She kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the kang, pulled an army coat over her legs, and leaned against the pile of quilts to read. As she read, she dozed off and dreamed that her parents knew she was a soul from another world. Instead of treating her as a monster, they understood her. Though their hearts ached with reluctance, they were no longer in agony. At least their daughter was safe—that was more important than anything else.

When Lin Yuanmin returned from the restaurant, Lin Fang had already slipped down and fallen asleep, the coat pushed aside and her body curled up. Lin Yuanmin quickly covered her with the coat and noticed her face, once pale, had turned flushed, with tears at the corners of her eyes. Sensing something was wrong, he shook her awake, leading to this father-daughter conversation.

Since she was already awake, Lin Fang decided not to go back to sleep. She sat up, wrapped herself in the army coat from neck to toe, and leaned against the quilt pile to chat with Lin Yuanmin. “Dad, guess what? Your daughter’s an editor now.”

Lin Yuanmin, flipping through Lin Fang’s book, didn’t look up. “Good. That means my daughter’s capable. The teacher must think highly of you.”

“Exactly. I’m the only student among the editors.” In truth, she was just doing odd jobs. Including Meatball, the errand boy, the editorial team only had four people. But she’d save that detail for later—no need to spoil the moment.

“Haha, my daughter must be feeling pretty proud of herself.” Lin Yuanmin raised the book slightly.

Hmm? That wasn’t right. Normally, whenever she had something to boast about, her dad would shower her with praise first. Today, something felt off. Lin Fang protested, “Dad, why aren’t you more excited about this?”

Lin Yuanmin wanted to say, “When have I ever not cared about your things?” But he was struggling right now.

While working at the restaurant, Meatball had already mentioned Lin Fang assisting the teacher, describing the whole process in detail. Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin weren’t thrilled that their daughter had caught the teacher’s eye. Instead, they felt sorrow. If only their daughter were healthy—such a capable child would surely have a bright future ahead.

Lowering the book covering his face, Lin Yuanmin put on a stern expression. “Excited? About what? I haven’t forgotten why you originally made Meatball do the editing—wasn’t it just to bully him?”

Truthfully, Lin Yuanmin wanted to praise his daughter with a smile, but he couldn’t muster one. Instead, he resorted to exposing her past mischief to mask his emotions.

Lin Fang laughed. “Haha, Dad, I’d forgotten about that myself. But it turned out to be a good thing. He got into high school, and I got something to do. Two birds with one stone—perfect!”

“I suppose so. So you’re saying bullying someone is justified?” Lin Yuanmin tried to sound cheerful.

“Hehe, the process doesn’t matter. What matters is the result.” Sensing her dad’s unusual mood today, Lin Fang quickly changed her tone.

Meatball’s mother and Dong Huixin had similar backgrounds—both had husbands working away from home while they raised the children. Dong Huixin was more scholarly and reasonable, while Meatball’s mother, though less educated, was bold and straightforward, unlike the typical village women who gossiped about every little thing. The two families lived close, just a few alleys apart, and over time, they grew closer.

Dong Huixin had it slightly better—Lin Yuanmin came home every Saturday. But Meatball’s father worked far away, over a thousand miles from home, and only returned once a year during his leave. Since he couldn’t come back often, Meatball’s mother would visit him whenever she could. At first, she took Meatball along, but once he started school, she left him with his grandmother. Meatball was picky about food and loved Dong Huixin’s cooking, so he often wandered over to the Lin household, treating it like his own home.

Meatball wasn’t the brightest when it came to schoolwork—he struggled to remember things—but he had a strong sense of pride. Every time exams rolled around, he’d panic and ask Lin Fang for help. Lin Fang, being clever, would agree but also extort plenty of snacks from him in return. Meatball was the only son in his family, and his parents spoiled him, granting his every request—especially when it came to food. He had all kinds of snacks that most villagers had never even seen.

Sometimes, when Meatball refused to share, Lin Fang would tattle to his mother, claiming he’d bullied her.

At first, Meatball’s mother believed her and would scold him with a broom. Meatball would try to defend himself, but he was no match for Lin Fang’s silver tongue. In the end, he’d surrender and hand over his snacks.

Lin Fang, having tasted success, would find new ways to pressure Meatball every exam season, leaving him miserable and unable to argue.

As they grew older, Meatball’s mother caught on to their little game and would laugh about it whenever it came up. Lin Fang’s habit of compiling study guides for Meatball became a running joke between the two families.

“Dad, are you worried about my health?” Lin Fang wasn’t truly just a sixteen-year-old. She could tell what was bothering her father.

Lin Yuanmin set the book on the table without a word. Sixteen years of psychological torment had left him with nothing to say—words felt hollow now.

“Dad, I want to discuss something with you.” Given her father’s mood today, Lin Fang thought it best to bring this up sooner rather than later.

“What is it?” Lin Yuanmin’s heart tightened.

“Since leaving the hospital this time, I feel better than before—stronger and with a better appetite. I want to get checked at the hospital to see if my condition has improved.” She needed to confirm this quickly—for her own peace of mind and to spare her family from living in constant fear of the unknown.

“Fang, you…?” Lin Yuanmin could no longer hide his grief.

Oh no. Her dad probably thought this was a sign of her “rallying” before the end. Lin Fang quickly slid off the kang and ran to him, pulling his hands away from his face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered,

“Dad, don’t think like that. I’ve read a lot of medical literature. Some types of congenital heart disease can heal on their own as a person grows older. Didn’t Dr. Ouyang say our family might have a genetic predisposition to heart disease? He also said you might’ve been born with it, just without obvious symptoms. Maybe I inherited yours—the kind that can heal naturally. Maybe I just developed slower and am recovering later.”

“Is that true?” Lin Yuanmin was half-convinced. Dr. Ouyang had mentioned he might have heart disease, but he’d never gotten a thorough checkup because he couldn’t afford it. Still, Dr. Ouyang had never said heart disease could heal on its own.

“Of course it’s true. I’ve read so much I can’t remember where I saw it, but I’ll find the source and show you later.”

In reality, Lin Fang had researched this online after graduating from college. Working at the hospital, she’d consulted cardiovascular specialists. Some congenital heart defects did resolve spontaneously—but hers wasn’t one of them. Hers was the kind even surgery couldn’t fix, requiring a heart transplant instead. But by then, her family had only just paid off their debts and couldn’t afford it.

“Alright. I’ll call Dr. Ouyang this afternoon and ask.”

A thorough checkup would require going to the regional hospital—the county hospital only had an old black-and-white ultrasound machine that was always breaking down. They’d have to leave early tomorrow—only two long-distance buses passed through the village daily, and they’d already missed today’s. That afternoon, he’d borrow the phone at the cotton station to ask Dr. Ouyang if this was even possible.

“Ouch—”

“What’s wrong?”

Lin Fang’s sudden gasp snapped Lin Yuanmin out of his thoughts. He looked at her anxiously.

“My feet hurt.”

“What’s wrong with your feet?”

Glancing down, Lin Yuanmin scooped her up and carried her to the stove, setting her a safe distance from the heat to warm her feet without burning her.

In her hurry to comfort her dad, Lin Fang had run over barefoot, wearing only socks. Standing on the cold floor had left her feet aching.

As Lin Fang lifted one foot at a time, Lin Yuanmin rubbed them until they were warm again. Finally relieved, he gave her foot a light pat and scolded, “You scared me half to death.”

“Hehehehe.” She’d just been in a rush—but she didn’t dare say that out loud.

When her dad really got going with lectures, even her mom’s menopausal mood swings couldn’t compare. His arguments were methodical, systematic, and overwhelming—even when he was completely in the wrong, he could make you feel suffocated. And if you were in the right? Good luck arguing back. It was a skill honed from years of hardship after their family’s fortunes had declined.

“Hehehehe.”

Mimicking her silly laugh with a straight face, Lin Yuanmin gave her foot another pat and sent her back to the kang to bundle up in the army coat. He returned to his chair, picked up the book, and finally focused on reading.

“Fang, can you even understand this book? It’s all in traditional characters.” Lin Yuanmin had learned traditional characters as a child. After simplified characters were introduced, his generation called the old script “laozi” (old characters).

“I can understand a little. You and Mom taught me and my brother some when we were kids. Plus, this book was free—might as well read it.” She sounded smug, careful not to admit she read it fluently.

“Nonsense. No one gives away books for free. You must’ve sweet-talked someone again.” Lin Fang had pulled this trick since childhood.

“I’m serious! Ask Meatball—he knows the bookstore owner too. He even called the guy dumb.”

Lin Fang perked up. “You’d love that store. It’s not far from the Xinhua Bookstore, near the roujiamo shop. It’s called ‘Ancient Books Restored’—all refurbished old books.”

Then she changed the subject. “Oh, speaking of roujiamo, Second Brother still owes me a donkey meat burger.”

“When did he promise you that? I don’t remember.”

“When I first woke up in the hospital, he said he’d buy me one once I could eat solid food again.”

“That counts? When you were sick, your mom and I promised you all sorts of things to cheer you up. I remember your mom said she’d make stir-fried rice noodles for you. By your logic, doesn’t she owe you that too?”

“Wow, Dad, you’re brilliant! I’d totally forgotten—Mom still hasn’t made me those noodles!”

“Hahaha! No wonder they say children are debts from past lives. Seems like having you means we’re forever in your debt.”

“Hehehehe.”

“Alright, let’s go. I won’t cook lunch—we’ll eat at the restaurant and make your mom pay up with those noodles.”