However, Director Wu, who stood beside him, had a completely different reaction.
As a veteran sixth-level Martial Artist, his physical instincts reacted far faster than his mind.
The instant he saw Qin Feng, every hair on his body stood on end!
A terror that defied description, one that stemmed from the deepest level of his being, crashed down upon his soul like a frozen Ancient Divine Mountain.
He felt as if he wasn’t looking at a person, but a cosmic Starry Sky Giant Beast that had retracted its claws and was merely feigning sleep.
Within that seemingly tranquil body lay a terrifying power, one great enough to rip the very planet to shreds!
’Enemy attack!’
The thought didn’t even have time to fully form in his mind.
His body had already reacted on pure instinct.
With a swipe of his right hand, the alloy Long Saber from his Subspace Storage Unit—a blade that had been with him for most of his life—was instantly unsheathed. He gripped it tightly, holding it horizontally across his chest in a defensive stance.
"Ah Feng! You rascal, what’re you doing back?!"
Qin Dahai, however, felt none of the pressure. He rushed forward in a few quick strides, completely ignoring Director Wu, who stood beside them as if facing a mortal enemy. Opening his arms wide, he pulled Qin Feng into a tight bear hug.
Qin Feng smiled, hugging his father back just as tightly.
"I’m home for a while. Came to spend some time with you."
He patted his father’s broad back and said softly, "My strength has hit a plateau, so it doesn’t really matter where I train anymore."
"Good! That’s wonderful! My good boy!"
Qin Dahai was so excited he was nearly incoherent. He slapped Qin Feng’s back repeatedly, roaring with laughter.
Only then did he turn his head and notice Director Wu, who was still maintaining his defensive stance, his face a little pale. "Ah Feng, quick, this is Director Wu," he said, making the introduction. "He’s looked after our family a lot over the years."
"Yes, I know. Director Wu, it’s been a while."
Qin Feng released his father and gave Director Wu a smiling nod in greeting.
Director Wu snapped out of his trance. He looked at the touching scene of father-son affection, then down at the Long Saber clutched in his own hand. His weathered face flushed red. He hastily sheathed the blade and forced a strained smile that looked worse than a grimace.
He took a step forward and bowed slightly, his tone humble. "Qin Feng. Please, don’t listen to Old Qin’s nonsense. It wasn’t ’looking after’ you at all... In truth, it was just a bit of a forward-thinking investment on my part. I’m not worthy of such praise."
Director Wu had wisely chosen to tell the truth.
"Please, don’t say that, Uncle Wu."
The smile on Qin Feng’s face never wavered, but his form of address shifted from "Director Wu" to "Uncle Wu," instantly closing the distance between them.
He took a step closer, his smile familiar and warm. "If it weren’t for you and the other uncles at the factory helping out back in the day, life wouldn’t have been so easy for my dad and me.
That’s a kindness I’ve never forgotten.
I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you on your recent promotion. I’ll be sure to pay you a formal visit to celebrate another day."
His words were perfectly delivered: he acknowledged the past help, saved his father’s face, and came across as warm and familiar without overstepping any boundaries.
This level of smooth, worldly maturity left Qin Dahai, watching from the side, completely stunned.
Director Wu was beyond flattered, waving his hands frantically. "I’m not worthy, truly! Old Qin, listen, Qin Feng has just made a rare trip home. You two must have a lot to talk about.
I have some urgent business to attend to at home, so I won’t impose any longer!
As for the celebration dinner, let’s do it another time. It’ll be my treat!"
"Alright, alright."
Watching Director Wu’s hasty retreat, Qin Dahai felt a little guilty, but Qin Feng simply smiled and shook his head.
He knew it wasn’t that Director Wu was being disrespectful. Rather, the vast disparity in their levels of being had created a natural, insurmountable chasm between the powerful and ordinary people.
Forcing them to sit at the same table would be torture for them both.
Unless, of course, they were bound by kinship.
"Dad, don’t worry about him. I’m hungry."
Qin Feng smiled, picking up the grocery basket from the floor and handing it to his father. "I’ve been dreaming of your specialty dishes for decades."
"Haha! Alright! Just you wait!"
Hearing his son’s request, Qin Dahai instantly forgot everything else. He took the basket, tied on an apron, and marched into the kitchen, full of vigor.
Soon, accompanied by the drone of the range hood, waves of a rich, savory aroma began to drift from the kitchen.
That familiar, caramelized scent—a mixture of cheap soy sauce, rock sugar, and spices—wafted through the air and into Qin Feng’s nose. Like a key, it instantly unlocked the floodgates of memory deep within his palate.
In that moment, the Taotie-like feasts of the Canaan Food God District, the top-tier delicacies made from the flesh of rare Exotic Beasts and imbued with immense life energy—all of it paled in comparison to this simple, home-cooked aroma.
Qin Feng sat on the sofa, watching his father’s busy silhouette in the kitchen and listening to the familiar clang of the spatula against the wok. The vexation, anger, and confusion in his heart—all born from his shattered ideals—were slowly smoothed away by this mundane, domestic tranquility.
This was his harbor.
No matter what he experienced out in the world, no matter what he had become, here he could always be just a child again.
"Come on, Ah Feng, wash up! Time to eat!"
A few moments later, Qin Dahai emerged carrying two steaming side dishes and a large bowl of rice, his face radiating a genuine, heartfelt smile.
"You’re a grown man now, but you haven’t changed a bit. You look just the same as you did back in high school."