Chapter 1

I was the most famous lawyer in the city, with a constant stream of clients.

However, my career took a hit after I adopted my daughter — all because of her toxic, rebellious nature.

When I took a child abuse case, she told the victim’s family, “My father loves taking cases with little girls, because he loves little girls.”

When I hosted a seminar online, she barged into the camera and said, “Don’t believe my father! He uses his work to harass victims.”

Today, I joined a speech competition on behalf of my law firm. The audience was filled with VIPs.

I told her again and again not to act up. She promised, then turned to wail at the national panel of judges.

“My father said he’ll send me back to the orphanage because I won’t let him molest me. Are you sure you want him to represent you?”

I looked up at her triumphant, vicious gaze and stayed silent.

This time, however, she would soon regret it.

Chapter 1

Three months ago, I took on a child abuse case.

The accused was the manager of a training facility who was suspected of using corporal punishment against many young girls.

I represented the victims through a non-profit organization and spent three long days in court, proving my case with the evidence and the families’ testimony.

Even now, I could not bear to look too closely at the photos of the girls' bruises.

On the day we settled, I finally got the accused to agree to compensation and a public apology.

The mother of one of the victims grasped my hand in tears. “Thank you, Mr. Lincoln. You did so much for our family!”

As I was about to reply, the door opened with a creak.

Seven-year-old Nancy poked her head into the room, holding a doll. Her eyes were bright.

The mother smiled at her. “What an adorable little girl.”

Nancy smiled too, sweetly and innocently, her eyes narrowing into slits. Then she tilted her head and said naively,

“There's no need to thank my father, ma'am. He loves taking cases with little girls, because he loves little girls.”

The air froze.

The mother's hand stiffened in mid-air, then she slowly pulled it back. Her gaze on me went from grateful to terrified and then to suspicious.

I wanted to explain, but Nancy spoke before I could.

“Am I right, Daddy? Don't you have a ton of pictures of little girls in your desk drawer?”

Those photos were from the case files!

However, the woman had leapt to her feet, knocking her chair to the ground. She practically ran out of the conference room without even taking her handbag.

That afternoon, the director of the law firm called me to his office for a chat. That family had called off our contract and even written a strongly worded complaint letter.

I spent half a month clarifying the matter, but the rumors had already spread.

“Frank Lincoln? Isn't he the lawyer who takes children's cases because of his perverted preferences?”

“Why go to him? We're better off choosing an intern because at least an intern wouldn't dare to put a foot out of line. Famous lawyers these days are getting too cocky. If they do anything untoward, we'll regret it!”

Afterward, I asked Nancy why she would say such a thing.

She shook her head and went back to playing with her building blocks on the carpet. She did not even look up at me.

“If I didn't say that, would you be sitting here and playing with me now?

“Besides, it was fun to see them so terrified.” Her lips curved at that.

I suppressed my anger and explained patiently, “Nancy, I'll play with you after work, but you need to know when to say these things. You'll affect my work and my reputation.”

My wife added, “That's right, Nancy. Your father loves you very much, so you should be considerate of him too.”

Nancy immediately grew angry at that. She pushed the tower she had been building viciously, the colorful plastic blocks falling all over the place. Then she ran into her room with a huff.

“I refuse! Hmph, I'll keep rebelling against Daddy and make him suffer. Only then will he obey me.”

She wanted me to obey her?

For the first time, I felt a twinge of fear toward my daughter. The next moment, however, I told myself that it was normal for a seven-year-old girl to want her father's attention and care.

I sighed and convinced myself to relax. She was just young… Surely things would improve once she got older?

Chapter 2

Plot twist: Things did not go as I’d imagined.

On Monday, the law firm arranged for me to represent them on a public service livestream. The topic was “how to recognize the hidden dangers around minors.”

I worked overtime for an entire week to prepare for the talk.

On the day of the livestream, I told Nancy to stay outside my study. My wife was working overtime, so I was worried Nancy would make things difficult for me again.

I prepared snacks and cartoons for her and promised to take her out for her favorite ice cream once I was done.

She looked up at me and nodded obediently. “I won't fight you, Daddy, I promise.”

I nodded, satisfied. She had finally grown up.

After that, I went into my study, started the livestream, and gave the camera a professional smile.

“Hello, dear audience. Today, let's talk about how to protect yourself with the law.”

The number of viewers went from a few hundred to a few thousand, and finally reached six digits. I spoke until my mouth felt dry, and the chat was filled with praise.

[Mr. Lincoln is professional as ever!]

[Wow, I'm really learning a lot.]

I was in the middle of thanking everyone when the door suddenly opened.

Nancy ran into the room in her pyjamas, holding a doll and not wearing her shoes. She pounced onto my lap, and the camera could not catch her face.

I said in a low voice, “Nancy, I'm working. Go outside for now.”

She nodded obediently.

Just as I was about to continue talking, she quickly grabbed my microphone and said before I could stop her,

“Everyone, don't believe my father. He's using his work to touch all those little girls. I saw him!”

She hugged her doll and cried on cue, practically sobbing, “Look! He even molested me and bit my shoulder! He said he'd kill me if I told anyone!”

The chat exploded.

[What the hell is going on? Is this for real?]

[His daughter is accusing him herself??!!]

[This monster!]

[Call the cops! Quick, somebody call the police!]

Nancy smirked for a second when she saw the reactions.

She sobbed while peeking at the rapidly scrolling chatbox, her lips curving slyly.

“Of course it's real. My father sneaks into my covers every night to touch me.”

I was furious, my blood threatening to boil over. At the same time, I felt so suffocated that I could not say a single word.

The bruise on her shoulder was from when she fell off her skateboard. Back then, I had rushed her to the hospital, where the doctor said it was just a superficial injury that would heal with some medicine.

She had wept uncontrollably at the time, and I had stayed up all night with her.

The platform cut my livestream. I slumped helplessly onto my chair.

Meanwhile, Nancy wiped her tears as though nothing had happened and hummed happily, flashing me a triumphant grin.

Looking at the daughter I had adored for so long, I gritted my teeth and raised my hand, the veins in my temple bulging.

In the end, though, I still could not bring myself to hit her.

Chapter 3

Soon, Nancy’s accusations on the livestream spread all through the Internet.

The video someone had recorded gained a million views in half an hour. It was titled, “Famous lawyer's daughter accuses him of assault mid-livestream.”

I tried to hold back my temper, asking her in a trembling voice, “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

Nancy slowly smiled, blinking her large eyes.

“Your eyes were so bright when you looked at the chat just now, Daddy. Much brighter than when you look at me.

“It's your fault for ignoring me. Rebelling is my way of getting your attention.”

I could not help it any more. For the first time, I hit her.

Her eyes widened in shock, then she let out an ear-piercing wail. Her expression said she was stunned and hurt that I would dare to hit her.

That was when my wife came back from work. Nancy immediately ran into her arms.

“Mommy, Daddy hit me! I hate him! I'll keep rebelling against him!”

When my wife heard the whole story, she turned pale. She crouched down and patiently tried to advise Nancy again.

However, Nancy just stared at me over my wife's shoulder. There was no remorse in her eyes, only hatred and resentment for that slap.

That night I stared at the ceiling and could not sleep a wink.

The next day, the police came to my house to check for evidence.

A female officer examined Nancy's body thoroughly but could not find any evidence of assault.

She crouched down and asked Nancy, “Little girl, why did you tell everyone those things?”

Nancy blinked and said seriously, “I wasn't lying, ma'am. When my father misses me, he'll rub my head and hug me.”

The officer fell silent. Her gaze on me turned from professional to slightly uncomfortable.

The result of the investigation was “insufficient evidence to press charges”.

However, the netizens did not care about that.

[Insufficient evidence doesn't mean it didn't happen.]

[How could a seven-year-old come up with something like this on her own?]

[I bet there’s something wrong with that lawyer. They just haven’t found out what yet.]

My photo was posted all over the Internet, and my name became a trending hashtag. They called me the “PDFile Lawyer”.

The next day, I was fired by the law firm on the grounds of “irreparable damages to the firm’s reputation.”

I stood outside the firm with the letter in my hand, blinded by the sunlight.

When I got in the car, Nancy sat in the backseat eating an expensive ice cream, swinging her legs happily. She tilted her head and licked the cream off her lips.

“Daddy, why do you look paler than the little girls in your pictures?

"Shouldn’t you be happy that you don’t have to go to work anymore? Why aren’t you smiling?”

I stared at her silently, my nails digging into my palms before I even realized it.

Over the next few days, I locked myself in my room, preparing for the National Young Lawyer Public Interest Speech Competition. I had registered for it three months ago.

The Department of Justice organized the contest, which only happened once every three years. The champion would immediately win a position in the High Court, and the panel of judges included a deputy minister.

The audience included VIPs from the city’s legal system, leaders of every big law firm, and reporters from every national paper. The cameras would send the footage live to every major platform on the Internet.

This was my last and only chance to redeem my reputation.

Chapter 4

On the day of the competition, I sent Nancy to school and watched her walk through the gates with my own eyes.

With her little bag on her shoulders, she turned to wave at me like a harmless bunny. “Bye-bye, Daddy!”

I stood at the gates and watched her disappear into the school building before I turned and left.

The competition went smoothly. I leveraged my case experience over the years, proving every point with evidence and logic. The judges nodded, and the audience applauded me.

Just as the speech was about to end, right before I bowed to thank my audience—

A tiny figure rushed onto the stage from behind the curtain. It was Nancy!

She was wearing her school uniform, her hair a mess and her knees greyed with dust. It looked like she had climbed over the school wall.

When she stumbled onto the stage, the guards somehow did not manage to stop her. As such, she managed to grab the emcee’s spare mic and fall to her knees right in the center of the stage.

The piercing feedback from the microphone rang through the arena. Everyone paused.

Nancy looked terrified, her voice trembling as she cried at the audience, “Judges, everyone, save me! He’s a terrible person! Look at what he did to me!”

She pulled down her collar to reveal a bruise on her neck. “He said he’d strangle me to

I was shocked. That mark was not there when she left for school. Did she do it to herself earlier?

She then pulled a crumpled tissue out of her pocket, showing the dark brown stain on it. “This is… a stain he left on my body. I secretly kept it.”

The crowd erupted into an uproar.

“It’s her! That little girl is accusing him again!”

“What a monster! How could he do that to his seven-year-old daughter?”

“I told you he’s a beast in men’s clothing!”

The VIPs immediately looked livid, and the organizers broke into a cold sweat. The cameras flashed at me wildly, and the reporters started yelling at me.

“Is what your daughter said true, Mr. Lincoln? Are you a repeated offender?!”

“Please explain! The whole country is watching!”

I looked at Nancy, who was still kneeling and sobbing. My vision threatened to black out from anger.

Under the spotlight, she snuck a peek at me. In that instant, I saw her spiteful, triumphant gaze.

Every time she rebelled against me before, I would break down and fly into a rage, demanding to know why.

This time, however, I did not. I just stood there calmly.

Nancy blinked in confusion and instinctively reached out to tug my shirt. I looked down and pried her fingers away, one by one, looking into her inwardly ecstatic eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this today?”

Nancy evaded my gaze for a second but did not drop the act. “Don’t threaten me, Daddy. I’m scared.”

I closed my eyes, my last traces of anger vanishing. I had thought that today would go smoothly, and I would not have to go this far.

I was wrong.

As countless eyes watched me, I took out the recording I had prepared and pointed it at the microphone.

A little girl’s voice echoed through the hall.

“If I hadn’t said that, Daddy, would you be sitting here playing with me now?

“Besides, no one would believe that a kid like me would lie. I’ll destroy everything you have so you can’t go anywhere. Then you’ll have to spend the rest of your life revolving around me, teehee!”

At the same time, the side door of the auditorium opened. Two officers from Child Protective Services came in, holding a file.

“Mr. Lincoln, we’re from CPS. We’ve approved your application to terminate your adoptive relationship with Nancy Lincoln.”

Nancy’s body jolted, and she fell to the ground, pale as a sheet.