VHBF – Chapter 73 Movie King Daddy (Part 32)

The five-day parent–child reality show finally came to an end. The director was grinning from ear to ear as he handed gifts to each little participant. Among them, little Zhu Yinyin, who performed best throughout the show, received an extra present from a sponsor—a tiny diamond-encrusted tiara. She proudly placed it on her head, looking delighted.

Only one day remained before the program’s premiere.

The production team hurried to edit the footage, managing to complete the first episode in time for its scheduled broadcast at 7 p.m. that Saturday.

Both the official account and the Fruit Channel posted promotional Weibo updates. They shared a few funny behind-the-scenes moments, teasing the audience by “squeezing out” just enough content to keep everyone’s curiosity piqued.

Yinyin returned home with her father. Their cramped, run-down apartment in the old tenement couldn’t compare to the luxurious villa they had stayed in during filming—but it was still home. Their home.

As soon as she stepped through the door, Yinyin squealed excitedly and threw herself onto the little cloth sofa, rolling back and forth. This place smelled like her and her daddy—it made her feel completely safe.

Director Zhang Daxi wanted to invite Zhu Ji and his daughter to become regular guests on the show, but Zhu Ji declined. Their contract was for one season only, just like the others. The director tried to persuade him again, suggesting they could at least sign on for season two.

But Zhu Ji still refused. He said he had other things to focus on and had only joined the show to spend time with his daughter. When the director turned to ask little Yinyin, she also refused, confidently explaining, “I already earned money! Enough to feed Daddy! Why do I need to go again?”

Director Zhang: “……”

Zhang Daxi knew when to stop pushing. The show’s explosive success was largely thanks to the movie emperor and his daughter. He should already be grateful.

The very first thing Zhu Ji did after returning home was to take the paternity test results and get the household registration sorted out. Then he enrolled Yinyin in a kindergarten.

It was a small private kindergarten with only about a hundred children across all classes. Most of them came from academic or high-status families—children of scholars, government officials, or researchers.

The school was exclusive, highly private, and difficult to get into. Besides a respectable background, applicants also needed a recommendation letter from someone reputable.

Zhu Ji managed it with the help of his mentor, Professor Yu De, and by offering part of his ongoing research on server architecture as a “door opener.” After officially joining the National Academy of Sciences, he successfully arranged for his daughter’s admission.

Since all the details had already been discussed with Professor Yu in advance, the paperwork went smoothly. Within a single day, everything—from registration to housing—was done. Zhu Ji applied for an academy dormitory, a modest one-bedroom unit. Given his current position, he couldn’t get anything fancier. That very day, he moved in with Yinyin.

They didn’t have much to bring. It was summer, so clothes and bedding were light. Out of the two large suitcases, one was filled entirely with Yinyin’s belongings—her favorite toys, the stuffed bunny she hugged every night, and all her little treasures carefully packed away.

Zhu Ji, in contrast, only brought a couple of changes of clothes.

Standing at the entrance of the dormitory building, Zhu Ji held Yinyin’s hand. The dorm manager, a friendly auntie, came over and greeted them warmly. She beamed at Yinyin, pretending to ask though she clearly already knew, “Comrade Zhu, this your daughter?”

Her eyes couldn’t move away from the adorable little girl. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. From now on, you’ll be living here with Daddy. If Daddy’s busy, you can come to Auntie. Auntie will help you.”

The dormitory was quite spacious—just the bedroom alone was about twenty square meters. Zhu Ji had bought a little pink bed and placed it beside his own. Seeing the two beds—one big, one small—side by side, Yinyin jumped onto hers with glee, rolling around. She finally had a princess bed of her own!

After playing around for a bit, Yinyin suddenly remembered something. “Daddy, that auntie downstairs was so nice!”

Zhu Ji: “…Mm.”

In just one day, father and daughter had completed everything—from registration to school enrollment to moving and job placement. Zhu Ji had hurried through it all not just because he was worried his future research would leave him little time to care for her, but also because of the attention the show would soon bring.

During the second round of filming, he realized how many people already recognized Yinyin. She was only three—pure and innocent, unable to tell good people from bad.

Zhu Ji couldn’t guarantee that everyone in the world had good intentions. What if someone with ill will pretended to be her fan? So before the show aired, he moved her into the Academy’s dorms, where security was tight enough to keep trouble out.

The kindergarten was nearby—only about a 30-minute round trip.

That morning, Yinyin carried her brand-new schoolbag, eyes glistening with tears, looking back three times with every step before finally entering the kindergarten gate. Zhu Ji exchanged a few words with the teacher, watched her walk inside, and then left.

Meanwhile, the Sunshine Welfare Home had sent the sick little girl, Bao Ya, to the hospital that same day. She was only four and suffered from congenital intestinal malformation. Lately, she had been unable to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom properly. Though four years old, she was frail and thin—smaller even than a typical two-year-old.

The doctor said surgery was urgent—any delay could lead to infection. The orphanage had been trying to raise funds, but with so many children to feed and no regular sponsors, Director Zhang hadn’t been able to gather enough money.

The surgery required at least two hundred thousand yuan. The 100,000-yuan check that Yinyin had given them was a true godsend. Even if they couldn’t pay the full amount yet, they could start the surgery and pay the rest later. Saving her life came first.

After waiting anxiously all day, Director Zhang finally received news: the surgery was successful. The doctor emerged from the operating room and said, “The procedure went well, but her immune system is weak. There’s still risk of infection. She’ll need to stay for observation, and later, a second surgery.”

Director Zhang rubbed her hands together nervously but sighed with relief. “As long as she’s safe.”

The child’s condition required three separate surgeries and long hospital stays—each day costing thousands of yuan. Director Zhang already knew she’d have to go begging for donations again later, but at least the first hurdle was cleared.

Looking at the little girl sleeping quietly in the ICU, she felt deeply grateful to that kind, sweet child who had helped them. Without that donation, the surgery wouldn’t have been possible.

Because of her illness, Bao Ya had survived on glucose and liquid meals for a long time. When she was first abandoned at the orphanage gates, it was likely because her birth parents couldn’t afford to care for a child with such special needs.

The doctor said that as long as she got through this first stage, she would recover and live a normal life.

Director Zhang took out her phone, logged into the orphanage’s Weibo account—which had fewer than 300 followers—and posted an update:

“Good things happen to good people. Sweet child, you are a little angel of kindness. Blessings will come to you.”

That afternoon, after her first day at kindergarten, Yinyin was already missing her daddy. As soon as she spotted him waiting at the gate, she waved her chubby little hand enthusiastically.

On their way home, she chattered nonstop, full of stories to tell.

“My deskmate is so nice! She gave me an apple, and I gave her candy from my bag!”

Zhu Ji nodded. “Good. It’s nice to share.”

“They asked me if I was on TV before. I told them yes, with Daddy! They want to meet you!”

Zhu Ji paused, looked down at her expectant eyes, and after a moment said gently, “We can’t invite anyone over right now, sweetheart. Maybe later—when Daddy buys us a new house.”

Yinyin nodded thoughtfully. Daddy was right… but then her eyes widened. “Daddy’s buying a house?!”

She looked shocked. “But I said I would buy a big house for Daddy when I earn money!”

Zhu Ji stifled a laugh. “Mm… then we’ll count Daddy’s house as borrowing from Yinyin’s future one, okay? Besides, the money we earned from the show is enough to buy one.”

Hearing that, Yinyin beamed with pride. That’s right—it was their money!

In truth, Zhu Ji didn’t plan to touch that money. Their contract with the show had paid fifty million yuan—more than enough to buy a large house. But he had already decided to divide it in two: one portion as an education and growth fund for his daughter, and the other deposited safely in the bank for emergencies.

If he were alone, he would have invested it all into his startup. But now, with a three-year-old daughter and no other family, he had to plan for every possibility—to make sure she’d be secure no matter what happened.

That money was never part of his entrepreneurial or housing plans. Yet looking at her bright, satisfied little face now, he couldn’t help feeling a pang of guilt.

At dinner, he finally spoke up about what was on his mind.

Yinyin had long noticed something was bothering him. She folded her arms, puffed up her cheeks, and said, “Say it, Daddy! You’re hiding something from me!”

Zhu Ji hesitated, then said, “Daddy wants to earn money first before buying a house. The money we made from the show…”

He had meant to say he’d put it in the bank for her, but thinking she might not like that, he added, “Daddy will save some for your schooling, and the rest… maybe Daddy can borrow from Yinyin to invest in a project. What do you think?”

“What’s a project?”

Yinyin didn’t understand, so he explained patiently, comparing it to eating: “To make money, you first have to ‘feed’ the project with money. Like giving food before it can grow.”

That, she understood. Her eyes sparkled. “Then I’ll be a big boss?”

Being a boss sounded so cool! The biggest boss she knew was the supermarket owner—so powerful! He could take whatever he wanted to eat!

Zhu Ji couldn’t help but laugh softly and patted her head. “Yes, our Yinyin will be a big boss.”

Meanwhile, at Fruit Channel’s control room, tension filled the air. The team was gathered, anxiously waiting. This was their first time airing during the Saturday primetime slot—they needed strong ratings to survive.

The network had set a minimum target: an average rating of 0.85. Anything lower, and the show would be axed after the first season.

Even though everyone believed that was unlikely—the online voting numbers were phenomenal—they were still nervous. Even the usually composed Zhang Daxi was pacing back and forth.

Across the country, families sat down together, remote controls in hand. For once, parents and children were united in their choice—no fighting over channels. They all tuned in to the Fruit Channel.

6:59 p.m. One minute until airtime.

In homes like Li Da’s, in the little town fruit shop, even at the Sunshine Welfare Home—everyone was waiting.

Director Zhang sat beside Bao Ya’s hospital bed, holding her hand and watching the livestream on her phone.

Bao Ya was awake, lying weakly against her pillow. Her small lips curved into a shy smile. “Director Mommy, is Sister Yinyin coming on now?”

Director Zhang stroked her hair gently. “Yes, she’ll be on in a minute. When you get better, I’ll take you to meet her, okay?”

“Okay.”