“Whoa—this place is huge!”

I’d assumed that the costume ball would be held in something modest—maybe a hotel ballroom rented for the occasion.

I never imagined my dad’s company would be this extravagant. They had booked an entire riverside hotel, complete with an outdoor garden, plus a three-story European-style manor as the main building. The whole venue was intimidatingly massive.

Aesthetically speaking, it suited a costume ball perfectly.

It was a pity the event was being held at noon—if it were at night, the riverside scenery would’ve been incredible.

Dad and I were seated in the back of the car while Wu Qinglan was being guided into a parking spot by the hotel’s security staff. We’d arrived a bit early; it was only a little past ten.

“Renting a place this big… just how many people are actually coming?” I asked.

My voice went through the walkie-talkie. Dad thought for a moment before replying, “Including family members, probably around a hundred people?”

Because of the oversized headpiece, his voice sounded muffled.

He’d left the house already fully suited up as a mascot-costume warrior, but for now he hadn’t lowered the visor, peering outside through the dog’s mouth opening instead.

“A hundred people? That’s not that many, is it?”

Given the scale of the venue, I’d expected a much larger crowd.

Once Wu Qinglan finished parking, she turned around and joined the conversation.

“It’s a startup company, after all. Growing to this size in just a few years is already impressive! That said, Xiao Kai, you really don’t pay much attention to Uncle Chang’s work, do you?”

She was referring to my dad’s job.

I answered honestly, “I really haven’t looked into it.”

Communication between my father and me had always been minimal. Whenever he sat across from me, he got so nervous it was almost painful to watch—hardly the attitude a father should have toward his son. But after all these years, we’d grown used to it. Even without saying much, we could usually guess what the other was thinking. In a way, that too was a form of understanding.

After sitting there for a while, I noticed Wu Qinglan showed no sign of getting out of the car, so I asked, “When are we heading in?”

“No rush. No one’s arrived yet. Let’s sit here for a bit.”

She turned on the car radio and tuned into a music station. The gentle, pleasant female voice that flowed out immediately made my dad shrink back slightly.

“Oh—shoot, I forgot!” Wu Qinglan hurriedly turned the radio off, then turned to Dad apologetically. “Sorry, Uncle Chang. Are you feeling hot?”

“A little. I can manage.”

Having caught his breath, Dad shook his head to show he was fine.

Given that he was wearing a thickly padded mascot costume, overheating was inevitable. Two small fans alone couldn’t fully solve the problem—especially since he hadn’t even turned them on yet to save battery power.

“If you’re hot, why don’t you take the headpiece off for now?” I suggested. “There aren’t any women in the car anyway.”

“Yeah… that makes sense.”

I glanced at Wu Qinglan in the driver’s seat. She covered her mouth and turned away, clearly stifling a laugh.

Once Dad removed the head, sweat was already beading on his forehead. Dragging him out to a costume ball like this really was putting him through the wringer.

Wu Qinglan handed him a bottle of mineral water and said, “Let’s sit a little longer. We’ll go in at ten thirty—I also need to find a place to change.”

Dad asked her, “So, Xiao Wu, what are you dressing up as today?”

“Huh? That’s a secret for now. You can look forward to it, Uncle Chang.”

Look forward to it, she said…

Wu Qinglan in women’s clothing was, to my dad, nothing short of a depth charge.

Cars gradually began filling the open-air parking lot, but none of them looked as eye-catching as Wu Qinglan’s red supercar.

After about five minutes, I noticed two familiar figures stepping out of one of the cars.

Why were they here—and together?

While I was still hesitating over whether to greet them, Wu Qinglan had already opened the car door and gotten out.

Seeing this, Dad asked, “Hm? You’re getting out?”

“No, Dad, just stay here for a bit. We’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Ran into someone we know. Just going to say hello… they’re women.”

Dad still looked confused, but I’d already gotten out of the car, leaning on my cane.

“Sayocho-sensei!”

One of them was Sayocho—Miyanaga Kohime’s editor. Oh, and she also handles Old Yan’s illustration reviews now.

Another petite pseudo-loli.

Hearing my call, Sayocho turned around from her conversation with Wu Qinglan. The short woman looked delighted and came trotting over in high heels—

“Oh! Xiao Kai? What a coincidence! Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

Ah. She twisted her ankle.

A tear the size of a bean welled up at the corner of her eye as she muttered, “A mature, intellectual woman doesn’t cry!”—then forced it back through sheer willpower.

“You shouldn’t run in high heels,” I said. “Still, the world really is small. I never thought I’d run into you here, Sayocho-sensei.”

“I’m surprised too. Captain Wu told me you’re attending this costume ball with your father?”

“Yes.” I nodded, then asked in return, “What about you, Sayocho-sensei? Is it… your husband?”

My question made the other woman—the one with drooping eyes—burst out laughing. She wasted no time tearing Sayocho’s cover to shreds.

“What husband? She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. We’re here with our father too.”

“Ah Jin!”

Sayocho shouted and swung her tiny fist at “Ah Jin’s” stomach. The punch landed solidly—but did absolutely nothing.

She’s so weak.

“Say,” the droopy-eyed woman mused, “you look kind of familiar, kid. You resemble one of my students…”

Sayocho laughed. “Ha, you’re overthinking it. Xiao Kai’s a boy! How could he possibly be your student?”

That’s right—this “Ah Jin” was none other than my former homeroom teacher at the girls’ campus. Originally a PE teacher, later transferred to teaching Chinese, and even doubled as our dance instructor: Gaomu Jin (Takagi Mukuge).

But right now, I had to pretend I didn’t know her.

“Hello. You must be mistaken—this is our first time meeting.”

I greeted her stiffly, deliberately avoiding eye contact. I was relying entirely on the large-framed glasses’ cognitive-disruption effect!

“Is that so?”

Sayocho stepped in and pushed Teacher Takagi aside. She glanced at the cast on my right leg, guilt flickering across her face.

“Sorry, Xiao Kai. Last month I was busy preparing Miyanaga Kohime’s new book and didn’t get a chance to visit. How’s the fracture recovery going?”

Seeing how apologetic she looked, I quickly replied, “It’s going great! It’s basically healed already—the doctor said the cast can come off mid-month.”

Wu Qinglan joined in. “I know that book! I bought it—it’s really well written!”

Miyanaga Kojime’s new release—Witches of the Witch’s Forest.

“Right?!”

Having her project acknowledged, Sayocho’s eyes curved into a ≧∀≦ shape, and the long ahoge on her head wagged left and right like a dog’s tail…

Is there a bone in that thing or something?!

Then the ahoge drooped limply again.

“But sales aren’t doing so well right now. Our publisher’s main audience is young women—once they hear it’s not a female-oriented title, many readers lose interest. All we can do now is hope word of mouth helps boost sales later.”

After all, this was her second book. The “newcomer cute girl author” angle wasn’t enough to carry the hype anymore. From here on, it depended on Miyanaga Kohime’s own strength.

Wu Qinglan encouraged her. “Hang in there!”

Adjusting my large-framed glasses, I asked Sayocho, “By the way, what’s the relationship between you two?”

“Hm? Oh, I haven’t introduced her yet. This sleepy-looking, squinty-eyed woman is my big sister—Gaomu Jin.”

That surprised me. The two sisters didn’t look alike at all—especially height-wise.

“Your real sister?” I asked.

“Real sister!”

Huh. Sisters like this really exist?

“And also, please don’t call me ‘Sayocho-sensei’ outside of work—it feels awkward. My real name is Gaomu Mian (Takagi Men). Xiao Kai, you can just call me Mian-jie.”

I thought about it. “Mian-jie?”

“Then Captain Wu can call me Ah Mian, right?”

Wu Qinglan shook her head firmly. “No. I’m calling you Momen-chan.”

“…Momen-chan?! Are you secretly this much of an otaku?!”

I corrected her. “Qinglan-ge, her family name is Gaomu (Takagi)… she’s Sino-Japanese.”

Wu Qinglan’s eyes lit up in realization.

“Takagi… I see. So you’re Advisor Takagi’s daughters?”

“Yeah. Captain Wu, you work with our father?”

“Haha, not really. I’m just a low-level employee. I hardly ever interact with Advisor Takagi.”

A low-level employee who drives a supercar to work… Are you even going to the office to work, or just to get close to my dad?!

“Oh?”

Teacher Takagi seemed to spot a flaw, letting out a meaningful sound. A glint of sharp insight flashed in her narrow eyes.

“Young man… how did you know my sis is Sino-Japanese?”

As soon as she finished speaking, she reached out to grab my glasses. As a former PE teacher, she was fast—before I could react, swish, the glasses were already off.

“Just as I thought—you’re my student Lingmeng, aren’t you?”

Damn it.

This just got really bad.