Chapter 100: The Abandoned Beast-Form Panda Cub…

“Dad, do you feel disappointed in me now?”

Xie Jia leaned there, his voice so soft it seemed like it might drift away on the wind in the next moment.

At the Imperial Academy, he wasn’t the most outstanding student—just above average. Among his classmates, some who were more capable than him had grown up in orphanages, others came from broken homes or had parents who didn’t love them.

Compared to them, he had far better conditions from the start. Yet in this matter, he felt as if he wasn’t even as good as they were. This thought had frustrated him for a long time.

His father had never demanded that he surpass others. He had simply treated him well, always looking upon his growth with a gentle, tolerant gaze.

But it was precisely this love that made Xie Jia want to push himself to be better.

He was proud of his father, and he wanted to be someone his father could be proud of too.

Xie Hui placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a light pat. The corners of his lips curved slightly as he replied in a low voice:

“Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed?”

“Do you think I should be disappointed in you?”

Xie Jia pressed his lips into a tight line. Though reluctant, he nodded slightly.

“Mm.”

“But have you ever thought about what expectations I actually have for you? If you don’t even know that, isn’t it too early to talk about disappointment?”

Xie Jia thought carefully. It seemed his father had never actually told him what he expected, and a flicker of confusion passed through his eyes.

“Then… what is it?”

“When you were little, you could peel bamboo shoots so cleanly. In my eyes, that was already very impressive. I even posted it all over my social media to show off to my friends.”

After becoming human, Xie Jia had purposely looked at his father’s social media account. It documented his entire childhood—from the moment his tiny paw poked out of the milk bowl, to when he grew into such a chubby panda that his father could barely hold him.

“Everyone defines ‘excellence’ differently. In my eyes, as long as you’re safe and happy, that’s already excellent.”

After speaking, Xie Hui reached out and gave his now-human son their first hug.

“I understand.”

Whether those words were sincere or not, Xie Hui couldn’t tell. But he still gave a quiet “Mm” in response.

Ever since Xie Hui had become a new father, he had never forced his child to grow up too quickly. Perhaps it was because he had enough capability to ensure that, even if his child didn’t push himself, he would still live comfortably.

That afternoon, Xie Hui was holding a video conference in his study. Halfway through, he heard a knock on the door. He instinctively looked up and said:

“Come in.”

It was Xie Jia, holding a cup of tea. He placed it on his father’s desk. His eyes caught sight of a few familiar uncles on the computer screen, and he instinctively turned to avoid them.

As he turned, he happened to see a very cute panda figurine on the nearby shelf. It looked quite lifelike.

Once his son came in, Xie Hui ended the meeting with his colleagues—after all, the work could wait until tomorrow. But his son would be returning to school in just two days.

After shutting off the computer, Xie Hui noticed Xie Jia’s gaze lingering on the shelf. He followed it and smiled.

“What do you think? Does it look nice?”

“Mm.”

The little panda figurine had been handcrafted by Xie Hui himself. He had used the fur collected that day, shaped it using felt techniques and other materials to resemble Xie Jia as a cub.

It was the first thing Xie Hui had ever made by hand, and the result was pretty decent. The pose was of a small panda sleeping while hugging a tiny bamboo shoot.

“Doesn’t it look just like you when you were little?”

Having practically gone through all his dad’s recordings, Xie Jia nodded honestly.

“It does.”

From those videos, he still remembered how he used to be so stingy that giving up even half a bamboo shoot made his heart ache. Now, looking at that bamboo shoot again, his face inexplicably started to flush.

…

Ever since the kids had shed their animal habits, Xie Hui didn’t pay much attention anymore—normal student life was a bit dull.

That was until one day during a holiday, it suddenly occurred to Xie Hui that the main plot of this world seemed to take place at the Imperial Academy.

He rarely went to pick up his son from school, but this time he did. Sitting in the back seat, his gaze would occasionally fall on Xie Jia.

“Did I do something wrong today, Dad?”

“Have you met any girls at school you like?”

Xie Hui didn’t bother beating around the bush or snooping for the answer—he just asked directly.

Although Xie Jia didn’t understand why his dad suddenly asked this, he still shook his head honestly.

“No. I don’t like them.”

“Oh?”

Xie Hui didn’t know if it was because he was getting older and more curious about his son’s love life, or because this world’s plot centered around the academy.

“Dad, I think I should focus on studying right now. I don’t want to waste time on that stuff.”

Students at the Imperial Academy entered only after reaching adulthood, and romantic relationships weren’t banned. But some old professors would still mention how few campus couples actually made it to marriage.

Out of a hundred couples, maybe not even one would reach the end. Those who did were the lucky few.

“You’re not wrong.”

Xie Hui was just asking casually—perhaps because, after living through so many worlds, he had developed a weird sense of distance. He generally preferred not to get involved with protagonists.

After all, protagonists often equaled trouble.

“No younger schoolgirls chasing after you?”

He recalled the original plot, where the female lead treated his son like a trusted older brother, and he couldn’t help asking again just to be sure.

“Really, Dad. None.”

Xie Jia was a bit helpless under his father’s questioning. He seriously recalled everything from school and gave a very certain answer.

“My son’s so handsome, how could there not be? Clearly, they’ve got no taste.”

Xie Hui casually made a joke to cover up his earlier anxiety, feeling a sudden wave of relief inside.

Since the plot no longer involved his son, he couldn’t care less about how the male and female leads would break through class boundaries to fall in love.

After graduating from the Imperial Academy, Xie Jia didn’t pursue further studies. Instead, he joined the company and began taking over responsibilities from his father.

In this world, the Imperial Academy was more or less equivalent to a university in the real world—just a bit shorter in duration.

Xie Hui asked him about it, and once he was sure the boy didn’t intend to continue studying, he respected his decision.

The company had originally been just a run-of-the-mill entertainment firm under Xie Hui. But once Xie Jia took over, he carried out sweeping reforms and even brought in hit variety show collaborations from abroad.

They invested in various talent shows and entertainment programs, training a large number of new directors and performers.

Their entertainment company became the most coveted destination for fans hoping their idols would sign on. Not only were resources top-tier, but the company also had no scandals and would always defend its artists whenever there was trouble—so long as the artist wasn’t in the wrong.

It even earned the nickname from netizens: “Half the company’s profits go to feeding that massive team of lawyers.”

By the time Xie Hui entered old age, Xie Jia had developed the company into the leading force in the entertainment industry.

As the president of an entertainment company, Xie Jia’s information had long ceased to be a secret online.

Curious netizens often posted side-by-side comparisons of recent photos of Xie Jia in a sharp black suit, exuding a commanding presence, and childhood pictures of him falling into a milk bowl or standing with hands on hips looking ready to scold someone over a bamboo shoot.

Aside from those, the most-viewed image was the clarification released by the Cub Protection Association: a dirty little cub pitifully trailing behind his father, leaving behind an adorable paw print with every step.

Later, Xie Jia also found someone he loved. After getting married, he became very much like Xie Hui. Even while excelling at work, he never neglected his family, often coming home early to make dinner for his father, wife, and child.

In an interview, Xie Jia once shared that he truly enjoyed cooking. Influenced by his father, he felt that cooking carried a strong sense of “home.”

Wearing an apron in the kitchen and preparing his family’s favorite dishes brought him more fulfillment than securing a contract at the negotiation table in a suit.

Xie Hui’s little granddaughter was born as a human child, which made Xie Jia breathe a sigh of relief. Not because he was biased—he just thought it would be a lot less trouble.

But to his surprise, that little girl slapped his assumptions hard with reality. At four, she was already climbing on rooftops; at five, she was riding their family’s husky all over the place. Her energy was so boundless that even the husky eventually collapsed, while she kept tugging at it, trying to get it to play with her some more.

Xie Hui passed away without any regrets and returned to the system space. Freed from the stifling weariness of old age, he sat in a chair and brewed himself a cup of tea.

“Host, would you like to meet the next client?”

“Mm.”

Xie Hui had originally planned to rest for a bit, but talking to clients didn’t feel like work to him and wasn’t tiring, so he nodded and agreed.

This system truly was like the main system had advertised—it became more obedient and attuned to its host’s thoughts the longer it accompanied them.

“Host, the next client is a bit… unusual.”

The system hesitated as it saw the client approaching. It wanted to give the host a heads-up, in case he couldn’t handle the shock.

Xie Hui figured that after carrying out missions for so many years, he’d seen it all—even clients missing limbs or reduced to nothing but a brain. How much more unusual could this one be?

“Mm.”

He nodded, preparing himself, and raised the teacup to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea. But before he could even lower the cup, he saw an ordinary-looking middle-aged woman walk in.

Xie Hui choked and coughed violently.

————Arc End————