The ice around Zhao Mingfeng slowly melted like snow thawing in spring. He could not help it. Anji was such a warm-hearted child that he could not remain unaffected. Although he knew it was a false sense of serenity, like the calm before a storm, he allowed himself to be fooled.
Over the next few nights, Anji spent her time sneaking into her father's study to spend some quality time. She would talk about her time at the Mystical Qilin Sect. Zhao Mingfeng listened without pressuring Anji to share about the things she did not want to. Her daughter had experienced more of what the world had to offer, and while she had adopted some of the sect's eccentric behaviour, she was still the same girl he loved a year ago. This only made him certain that he would love Anji regardless of her past, present or future self. A father's love was just unconditional like that.
