CFRFGC Chapter 139

⌈The grasshopper kicked its legs and jumped straight towards Ji Min.⌋

Ji Min opened the window, reached out, and grabbed the little boy outside, saying: “Gotcha.”

The child instinctively tried to dodge.

But when he looked up and saw the smile on Ji Min’s face, he gradually realized that Big Brother was just playing with him.

He also began to smile.

Ji Min bent down and directly lifted the child in through the window.

Holding his hand, he led the little boy over to his desk and sat him down.

Then he called for someone to bring over a plate of fruit.

The child cautiously glanced at the lecturer sipping water, then looked at Ji Min.

Ji Min speared a piece of fruit and popped it into the boy’s mouth.

The child quickly took the fork from him, glanced again at the lecturer, and then asked in a hushed voice, “Big Brother, can I stay here?”

Ji Min found this amusing and responded in a similarly soft tone, “Sure, just don’t make any noise.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. He immediately covered his mouth and nodded enthusiastically.

At first, the lecturer was a bit concerned.

But he soon realized the boy was incredibly quiet. Either he ate his fruit silently or doodled on the sheets of paper Ji Min handed him.

Occasionally, he even raised his head attentively.

The way he listened to the lecture was much more serious than the older boy next to him.

For a fleeting moment, the lecturer felt touched.

Ji Min, with his quick thinking, often grasped the point of the lesson before the lecturer had finished explaining the introduction.

Because of this, he wasn’t very interested in the class.

Now, with an attentive little boy sitting in the room, Ji Min’s playful streak surfaced. He couldn’t help but reach out and pinch the boy’s fingers.

After two pokes, the child silently pulled his hand off the table and clasped it behind his back.

Ji Min raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? You know how to dodge?”

Ji Min poked the boy’s face twice.

Finally, it was break time.

The little boy, who had been sitting with his hands behind his back, suddenly let out a heavy sigh.

He turned his head, looked at Ji Min seriously, and said, “Big Brother, you shouldn’t fidget during class. What you’re doing is wrong.”

Ji Min was stunned.

Wait, did the kid just lecture him?

Ji Min: “…”

The fearless teenager suddenly felt a light blush creep over his ears.

He cleared his throat and instinctively wanted to explain.

But when he looked down and met the boy’s gaze, he unexpectedly felt a rare twinge of guilt.

“Got it. I was wrong. I won’t poke you next time,” Ji Min said.

The boy immediately smiled and said to him, “Big Brother is so good. Here, have some candy.”

As he spoke, he pulled out two milk candies from his pocket.

Ji Min instantly recognized them as candies given by Butler Chen.

He accepted them with a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

On one hand, he felt slightly awkward about being called out by someone so much younger.

On the other hand, he found the whole situation hilariously endearing.

Ji Min ate the candy and noticed the paper in front of the boy had words written on it.

“You know how to write?” Ji Min asked in surprise.

He had assumed the boy had been casually doodling random things.

But leaning closer, he saw that although the handwriting was immature and the strokes a bit shaky, the words were clearly recognizable.

They were actual terms the lecturer had mentioned earlier.

Ji Min froze.

He picked up the paper and examined it carefully before asking the boy, “Do you even know what you’ve written here?”

“Of course I do,” the boy said, pointing at the words on the page with his little finger and reading them out one by one: “Acquisition, equity swap agreement, Ponzi scheme…”

Ji Min’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Ji Min leaned in and carefully studied the little boy in front of him, who looked to be just three or four years old.

After a moment, he asked again, “Do you know what an equity swap agreement is?”

The boy stammered but managed to recite the definition of the term.

Though it was clear he was parroting something he had memorized, it also confirmed that he had learned about these concepts before.

Ji Min was still processing his surprise when the lecturer, who had been resting on the side, suddenly lit up.

The lecturer dashed over to Ran Ran, his eyes gleaming as if he’d found a treasure.

As a result, the second half of the morning class turned into a session dedicated to testing the boy’s financial knowledge.

Ji Min even discovered that the little guy could recognize the logos of several well-known companies.

The lecturer was ecstatic and outright declared that Ji Min had found a prodigy.

But as Ji Min looked at the still somewhat bewildered child, he didn’t feel particularly thrilled.

He himself was a product of the “pulling up seedlings to help them grow” approach.

After starting school, Ji Min had been keenly aware of how different he was from his peers.

He knew that for a normal child, even if they could read, their reading would generally be limited to children’s storybooks and flashcards—not financial jargon.

In the afternoon, after class was over, Ji Min reclined on a lounge chair in the courtyard.

The yard was spacious, but the boy didn’t wander around. Instead, he stayed close to Ji Min, sitting quietly by his side.

Ji Min pondered for a while before suddenly saying, “Ran Ran, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, under the sea, there was a little mermaid…”

Hearing this, the boy blinked curiously and asked, “What kind of fish is a little mermaid?”

Ji Min paused.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit absurd.

A four-year-old who knew about equity swap agreements had never heard of The Little Mermaid.

Ji Min narrated the fairy tale from beginning to end.

The boy listened intently, hanging on every word. By the time Ji Min got to the part where the little mermaid turned into sea foam, the boy’s tears were on the verge of spilling over.

Clinging to Ji Min, he repeatedly asked, “And then? What happened next?”

At that moment, Ji Min finally felt like he was seeing a normal little child.

Ji Min laughed heartily and told the little boy a few more stories.

Then, he grabbed a small bucket and took the boy to the pond to catch fish.

The boy seemed deeply impressed by the story he’d just heard.

Staring at the goldfish in the pond, he kept mumbling, “Little mermaid~ Little mermaid~.”

That evening, Ji Min assumed that the boy would finally ask him to tell a bedtime story.

Instead, the boy held onto the butler’s hand and, before heading to his room, glanced at Ji Min with a reluctant expression.

Still, he obediently went into his own room.

Ji Min: “…”

Unbelievable.

A few more days passed.

The boy finally started getting comfortable in the courtyard.

During meals, he timidly began to tell the butler what dishes he wanted to eat.

Ji Min’s courtyard rarely had visitors, so the boy gradually started to let his guard down.

The butler brought a few newly hatched chicks from the front yard and the boy was utterly fascinated, watching them every day.

Ji Min’s tutor, however, remained intrigued by Ran Ran.

But Ji Min felt that instead of sitting in a chair learning those dull financial concepts, the boy seemed to prefer running around with a bottle, catching grasshoppers to feed the chicks.

Noticing this, Ji Min decided to have the staff stop spraying insecticide.

Now that the weather was hot, the grasshoppers were growing big and plump.

Whenever he had free time, the boy would crouch outside the garden, waiting to catch one.

Whenever he caught a grasshopper, he’d run straight to Ji Min with it in his hands.

“Brother! Look!”

The boy would cup the insect in his small hands and dash over.

Once he reached Ji Min, he’d open his hands to show it off.

But the moment his hands parted, the grasshopper’s legs would kick and it would leap directly at Ji Min.

Ji Min: “…”

The first time this happened, Ji Min jumped right off his lounge chair.

However, now Ji Min could catch the grasshopper clinging to his T-shirt without batting an eye, calmly stuffing it into the bottle nearby.

Handing the bottle to the boy, he said, “Alright, the bottle’s full. No more catching for today. Go wash your hands.”

The boy obediently nodded, rolled up his sleeves, and went to wash his hands at the sink.

At that moment, the tightly shut courtyard gate was knocked on.

Hearing the sound, the boy, with his hands still wet, immediately ran back to Ji Min’s side.

Ji Min frowned and sat up from his lounge chair.

He had never liked staying in the house, always heading out as soon as summer vacation started.

Now that he had brought Ran Ran back with him, he kept the courtyard gate closed.

No one usually dared to disturb him.

The gate was knocked twice. Before anyone inside could respond, the person outside pushed it open.

When Ji Min saw who it was, he stood up.

His expression grew colder as he addressed the visitor. “Grandfather.”

Old Master Ji waved his hand, signaling for the people behind him to step aside as he leisurely entered the courtyard.

Ran Ran hid behind Ji Min, sensing that the young man in front of him was a bit tense.

The boy felt a little scared but was more curious. Peeking out from behind Ji Min, he tried to get a better look at the elderly man who had walked in.

Ji Min, however, pressed a hand on the boy’s head and softly said, “Ran Ran, go back to your room for now.”

The boy nodded and turned to leave.

But Old Master Ji said, “No need to leave. I didn’t come back for anything in particular—just heard you’ve been staying in the courtyard lately, so I came to check on you.”

Ji Min didn’t respond, instead giving Ran Ran a slight push to urge him to go.

Old Master Ji directly waved the boy over. “You’re Ran Ran, right? Come here and let me take a look at you.”

Ji Min’s hand on the boy’s shoulder froze.

After a moment of hesitation, he finally let go and softly said to the boy, “Go ahead.”

Ran Ran took two small steps forward.

Ji Min noticed that the boy was actually a bit shy around strangers.

However, he seemed to have a natural affinity for older individuals like the butler or, in this case, Old Master Ji.

Though the old man was advanced in age, his presence remained commanding.

Surprisingly, the boy wasn’t afraid.

After glancing at Old Master Ji, he broke into a small run toward him.

When he got closer, his short stature meant his eyes naturally landed on the cane in the old man’s hand.

Staring at it for a moment, the boy seemed to find something familiar.

He tilted his head up, smiled brightly, and called out, “Grandpa!”

Old Master Ji was momentarily taken aback. He didn’t respond immediately but reached out to gently ruffle the boy’s hair.

Sitting down nearby, the old man asked the boy a few questions about finance.

Ji Min, standing to the side, felt his expression grow colder.

After his brief inquiry, Old Master Ji let out a sigh.

“He’s a good child. The guardians are diligent and the child himself works hard.”

His gaze drifted to the jar filled with grasshoppers.

Shaking his head, he muttered, “What a pity.”

After that, he no longer paid attention to Ran Ran.

Turning his focus to Ji Min, the old man began chatting about everyday matters.

“This child is good. If you like him, keep him around. Our family can certainly afford to feed one more mouth.”

His tone was gentle.

But the moment Ji Min heard it, he couldn’t help clenching his fists.

Perhaps because…

In Old Master Ji’s words, Ran Ran was treated like a pet—a kitten or puppy meant solely to bring him joy.

Ji Min didn’t argue, merely replying, “I said I would help him find his family.”

The old man didn’t push the topic further.

Instead, he asked about Ji Min’s studies before steering the conversation toward Ji Min’s father.

With a sigh, Old Master Ji began to criticize.

“Your father is no good. I heard about what happened on your mother’s death anniversary. I’ve spoken to him on your behalf.”

Ji Min’s face remained impassive as he nodded lightly. “Understood.”

“But he’s still your biological father and a father and son never hold grudges overnight. In the end, you two should spend more time together.”

Ji Min tugged the corner of his mouth into a faint smile.

He didn’t argue, simply replying, “Alright.”

Old Master Ji said a few more words before staying for dinner in Ji Min’s courtyard and then taking his leave.

The courtyard grew very quiet.

Soon, a light drizzle began to fall again.

Butler Chen quietly cleaned up the dishes.

The servants who came from outside the courtyard to take them away also moved with care, ensuring no sound was made.

Ran Ran sat on the sofa, watching people move about in silence, each one instinctively avoiding disturbing the young man under the eaves while watching the rain.

Ji Min wasn’t lying on the deck chair this time.

Instead, he sat on a low stool, his long back slightly hunched.

He wasn’t angry, nor did he show any other emotion.

He simply sat there quietly, processing everything—things he had long grown used to but still felt like a dull knife cutting into his flesh.

Butler Chen gently beckoned to Ran Ran.

The boy obediently walked over, letting himself be led back to his room.

Before entering, he glanced outside again and whispered, “Is Brother not going to sleep?”

“Brother will sleep soon,” Butler Chen softly replied.

After tucking the boy into his room, Butler Chen left a lamp lit in the living room and retired to his own room.

And so, the large courtyard was left with only Ji Min.

He tilted his head back, watching the rain fall drop by drop from the edge of the eaves.

The droplets hit the bluestone slabs below, following the stone’s veins as they flowed downward.

At times like this, Ji Min disliked being disturbed.

Everyone knew his preferences and naturally avoided bothering him.

Yet, sometimes Ji Min couldn’t tell.

Did he genuinely not want to be disturbed or was he silently resenting the fact that no one came to him?

From behind, a faint “click” sounded in the living room.

Then came the shuffling sound of slippers dragging on the floor.

The footsteps approached slowly but stopped before triggering Ji Min’s reflexive irritation.

He knew it was the boy who had come out.

But Ji Min didn’t turn around or acknowledge him.

Leaning his head back, he let his mind wander to Old Master Ji’s words.

He understood what the old master meant.

The old man had noticed that Ran Ran showed no interest in business matters, which, in his eyes, rendered the boy worthless.

The events that unfolded in the study had undoubtedly been relayed to the old master.

Ji Min wasn’t surprised.

Yet when it actually happened, it still left him with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

As for the rest of the conversation, Ji Min also knew what it implied.

His father was incapable of holding up the Ji family. The Ji Corporation would eventually fall into his hands.

The old master feared Ji Min would resent his father.

Although he repeatedly criticized Ji Min’s father, every word ultimately showed he was looking out for the man.

When he was younger, Ji Min would throw tantrums and cause a scene whenever he heard such words from his grandfather or when his father let him down.

But later, he realized that no matter how much he raged, some things would never change.

Sometimes, Ji Min found his own existence laughable.

It felt as though his life was just one enormous transaction.

Everything about him was a deal.

His parents’ marriage was a transaction between two families.

His birth was the result of that deal.

Even now, his relationship with the only person in the Ji family who valued him—his grandfather—was still just a transaction.

By the time Ji Min reached his teenage years, he stopped throwing fits.

He also stopped arguing with his grandfather.

Because he understood very well that his position as heir and his apparent brilliance weren’t due to his grandfather’s affection or favoritism.

It was because, in the old master’s eyes, Ji Min had the capability to shoulder the Ji family’s burdens.

That day in the mountains, when Ji Min met Ran Ran, he had been sitting in the pavilion.

For just a fleeting moment, he had wondered how his grandfather and father would react if something happened to him.

Ji Min knew his father would cry bitterly.

But after his grief subsided, he would return to his happy little family.

His grandfather would also mourn and feel regret.

But what he would regret most would be the loss of a competent heir.

Ji Min didn’t think his grandfather was wrong.

Sometimes, he could even understand his father.

But in many small, subtle moments…

Ji Min still longed for someone in this vast family to truly care about him, even if only for a little while.

The child behind him was very quiet.

Ji Min sat in the corridor.

The boy sat on the carpet near the corridor, slowly playing with a toy in his hands.

They were separated by a small distance.

Yet, in this lonely space, they kept each other company.

Just like that rainy night in the pavilion.

Ji Min didn’t pay attention to the child behind him.

He thought the boy would eventually grow bored and leave.

But after waiting a while, there were no footsteps signaling his departure.

Ji Min turned his head slightly.

The movement was subtle—

As though afraid of exposing the fragile thoughts in his heart or scaring away the quiet child behind him.

In his peripheral vision, the boy was bowing his head, poking at a roly-poly toy again and again.

It was well past the child’s bedtime.

He was visibly sleepy.

Yet after rubbing his eyes, he stubbornly stayed awake.

After watching for a moment, Ji Min couldn’t help but get up.

He walked to the boy’s side, crouched down, and asked, “If you’re so tired, why don’t you go to sleep?”

The child didn’t answer. He simply tilted his head and asked, “Is brother still sad?”

It was just one simple question.

Yet, the vulnerability Ji Min had been burying in his heart suddenly surged to the surface.

He leaned forward and tightly embraced the boy in front of him.

His head was bowed low.

Ran Ran patted his shoulder gently and said, “Brother, don’t cry.”

---