Chapter 4: The Little Prince of the Ford Family

The Ford residence.

A car slowly pulled to a stop.

Samuel Ford stepped out, glancing back at his son.

Jean Vance got out on the other side, standing far away from him. Samuel didn’t pay it any mind and started walking inside.

After a quick look at him, Jean followed, sizing up the home out of the corner of his eye.

Samuel Ford bent down to change his shoes, placing the ones he’d taken off onto the shoe rack. They were all the same size, the leather shoes nearly identical in style. Lined up in a row, they formed a perfectly straight line from Jean’s perspective, a sight that filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Next to it was the children’s shoe rack. Compared to the adult one, this one was a chaotic mess. Jean’s eyes felt as if they’d been pricked. His brow furrowed. After putting on his slippers, he tried to ignore it, but in the end, he couldn’t resist arranging the jumbled shoes neatly.

Gazing at the perfectly orderly shoe rack, he finally breathed a long sigh of relief inwardly.

He dusted off his hands and was about to head further inside when a robot suddenly approached him. It was as tall as he was. The electronic screen that served as its face flickered twice, and it spoke in a mechanical, child-like voice, "Verification failed. Verification failed. You are not the young master."

Jean’s eyelid twitched, but he stood his ground, showing no reaction.

Samuel Ford came back and pushed the robot aside. "The last time you threw a tantrum, you threw Seven. He doesn’t even want to recognize you anymore. No more throwing things when you’re in a mood."

"Okay," Jean answered casually. "I’m tired."

Seeing that he had no intention of saying another word, Samuel’s expression turned cold. He turned and left, saying impatiently, "Then go to sleep."

With that, he went straight to his study and pinched the bridge of his nose. Just then, his assistant called. He answered and said, "Postpone tomorrow’s meeting. We’ll deal with it the day after."

’I’ll spend the day with the kid first,’ he thought. ’Otherwise, he’ll just act up again.’

Jean paid his attitude no mind. He stopped a passing servant and said, "Bring a plate of fruit to my room."

"Right away."

After delivering the fruit, the servant saw him still sitting in the living room and didn’t dare to speak, wishing for nothing more than to be far, far away from the Little Devil.

Memorizing the room’s location, Jean slowly made his way upstairs. The robot, Seven, followed behind him, chirping in its child-like voice, "Alert! Alert! Intruder detected! Catch the bad guy!"

Jean ignored it. When he reached the door, he reached out, pulled the robot inside with him, and shut the door with a CLICK, cutting off its cries for help.

"Bad guy, what are you doing?"

Jean crossed his arms and looked at it. "You’re pretty smart."

Fireworks began to display on Seven’s screen-face, its tone filled with unconcealed pride. "Of course! I’m the smartest robot there is!"

"Mm."

’I can tell,’ Jean thought. ’I don’t know if it’s the *best*, but it’s definitely not bad.’

He scanned the room. Seeing the messy state of it, his brow furrowed tightly. His gaze finally landed on the desk, and he walked over.

The moment he moved, Seven followed close behind, incessantly blaring its alert.

Jean found a children’s tool kit amidst the clutter on the desk, then stared at a photograph on it, his expression unreadable.

In it, as he expected, was a little boy who looked exactly like him. He had a brilliant smile, and his chubby little hand was making a "V" sign under his chin to look cool. He looked a bit silly.

He casually flipped open a notebook. A name was scrawled crookedly across the cover. He stared at it for a long time before he could finally decipher the jumble of scattered strokes.

"Felix Ford."

"Why do you call for me, the most handsome, coolest, and smartest young master?"

’That was clearly a pre-programmed response,’ Jean thought.

Jean tapped his chin and looked up at the robot. "You’re so smart, you must know your young master very well."

Seven grew even more smug. "Of course!"

Before he could ask anything else, it rattled off in one breath, "My young master’s name is Felix Ford! He’s five years old this year! He’s the most handsome, best-looking, and most popular kid at Sunshine Kindergarten..."

After listening, Jean nodded and walked toward Seven with the tool kit in hand.

Realizing something was wrong, Seven’s speech suddenly sped up. The alert flashed on its head again as it rambled, "Help me! Help me!" It turned to run, but a hand landed firmly on its head. Though small, the hand was very strong, and the robot couldn’t move an inch. Finally, it could only cry out tragically, "It’s true! I can scream my head off and no one will come to save me!"

A vein twitched on Jean’s forehead. ’What kind of nonsense has that kid been watching?’

When Samuel Ford came out of the study, his son was, as expected, nowhere to be seen downstairs.

He went to get a glass of water and waited for a while, but there wasn’t a sound. ’He couldn’t have run off again, could he?’

The bodyguard was also on edge. The Little Devil had been quiet ever since boarding the plane, and there was no telling what mischief he was brewing. Based on past experience, the quieter he was, the bigger the trouble he was planning.

The bodyguard cursed silently. ’We’re screwed this time.’

’This job is hell.’

Samuel took a sip of water and shot a look at the bodyguard. The bodyguard understood, lightened his steps, and went upstairs. He quietly pushed the door open a crack and peeked inside, only to see parts scattered all over the floor. Seven’s head was set to one side, staring straight at him. Because it had been "decapitated," the entire head had gone dark.

The bodyguard felt a chill run down his spine. ’So he’s still the same Little Devil. Vicious enough to not even spare Seven.’

He suddenly empathized with the robot, feeling a bleak sense of kinship in its misery.

Wiping his face, he gently closed the door, trying not to make a sound. ’Since the Little Devil has already taken his anger out on Seven, he probably won’t torment us anymore, right?’

’Rest in peace, Seven.’

He went downstairs to Samuel’s side and recounted what he had just seen.

Samuel nodded without a word. As long as the boy was still here, that was all that mattered.

Jean glanced toward the door. He had seen the bodyguard’s movements clearly but had simply chosen to ignore them.

He looked down and slowly began to assemble the parts on the floor. Before long, a complete robot stood before him again.

He kept the original voice but removed its child-like quality, making it sound more professional. "007 at your service. Commencing scan. Scan complete. Master."

"You may leave."

"Affirmative." 007 turned, and its mechanical hand gripped the knob, opened the door, and walked out.

Jean looked at the messy room again, his eyes filled with disdain.

It took him over an hour to finally tidy the room. Looking at the space, now filled with the presence of Felix Ford, Jean felt a sense of disorientation.

To suddenly find out he had a twin brother... the feeling was strange.

Most importantly, he turned his head to look outside the door. That creature called "Dad"—he had finally met him.

’And he was... nothing special.’

’Not good enough for Mom.’

’I wonder how Mom is doing now.’ He suddenly felt a pang of regret. ’I was too impulsive. Mom must be so worried since she can’t find me.’

Unable to shake his unease, he got up, turned on the computer on the desk, and his fingers began to type. Soon, the surveillance feed from the Vance family home appeared on his screen.

Looking at the child next to his mother, he narrowed his eyes, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk in thought.

「The next day.」

Amanda Vance opened her eyes. Seeing her familiar surroundings, her expression was neutral as she got up and walked to the room next door.

The moment she opened the door and saw the scene inside, she froze.

The child on the bed was sleeping sprawled out, arms and legs akimbo. His small body was lying on top of the summer quilt, half of which was hanging onto the floor. He was sleeping so soundly you could almost imagine a little snot bubble inflating and deflating under his nose.

’But when did Jean’s sleeping posture get so bad?’ she wondered. ’He’s always been the most proper sleeper, waking up in the exact same position he fell asleep in.’

’And...’ Her eyes flickered with confusion as she looked at the small slipper by her feet, then at its mate by the head of the bed.

For a moment, she suddenly had the feeling that she’d brought home the wrong son.

’Jean isn’t like this.’

On the bed, Felix Ford rolled over and woke up in a daze. He rubbed his eyes, and when he saw the person standing in the doorway, his eyes lit up. "Mama!"

"Mm," she replied, suppressing the doubt in her heart. She walked closer, her expression unreadable as she looked down at him.

Felix, completely oblivious to anything unusual, reached out and hugged her waist, nuzzling his face against her. His soft, warm body made Amanda’s heart melt, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him.

"Mama," Felix said, looking up at her with his little face. He pouted and reached behind his back to scratch, complaining pitifully, "Mama, this bed is so uncomfortable to sleep in."

’Did he toss and turn because he didn’t sleep well?’

Amanda didn’t speak. Her brow suddenly furrowed. She lifted his shirt and, sure enough, there was a large patch of red rash, along with his own scratch marks. The whole area was red and looked alarming, and her expression immediately darkened.

Felix twisted his head, trying to see, but he couldn’t, which made him anxious. "Mama?"

Amanda pulled his hand away. "Don’t scratch."

"Oh." Felix managed to stay still for a moment, but not two minutes later, he started squirming again. He looked up at her, his big, round eyes welling with tears. "But Mama, it’s so itchy. It’s awful."