Ch 100: After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

June marked the beginning of the national college entrance exam season across the country.

Starting days in advance, Nan City had already begun preparations. Officers from the traffic division pasted heart-shaped “Exam Escort” stickers on vehicles, while caring car owners tied yellow ribbons to their cars, ready to contribute in any way they could.

As a student from No. 2 High School, Ruan Cha’s exam center was assigned to No. 4 High School in a different district. The Ruan family happened to own a property just a few hundred meters away from No. 4 High, so on the evening of the 4th, the family of three moved in temporarily.

On the morning of June 7th, Ruan Cha stepped out of the complex feeling fresh and bright, wearing a red t-shirt her class had ordered as a group. She held one of her father Ruan Zhengfei’s hands and the other of her mother Wei Jiao’s.

Turning a corner past the complex, Ruan Cha caught sight of No. 4 High ahead. In front of the school gate, rows of sunshades had been set up, where groups of parents sat scattered underneath, accompanying their children.

Some fanned themselves with handouts from cram schools; others whispered reminders to their kids, afraid they’d get too nervous. After all, every year, there were students so overwhelmed they had to be carried out of the exam halls on stretchers.

Ruan Cha glanced at the teachers standing at the gate, then waved to her parents. “Mom, Dad, you can head back now—it’s hot out here.”

“Not hot, there’s a breeze,” Ruan Zhengfei insisted, holding a small electric fan between himself and Wei Jiao. “Cha Cha, just treat it like a normal exam. We’ve got a whole family business waiting for you to inherit. No pressure.”

Ruan Cha shook her head. “I’m not inheriting it. If I did, you and Mom would start slacking off.”

Wei Jiao gave Ruan Zhengfei a firm slap on the back. “What family business! You’re trying to distract Cha Cha before her exam!”

Then she pulled Ruan Cha into a hug. “Cha Cha, even though you’ve been top of your grade this whole second semester, it’s okay if you don’t get first place today. Don’t stress yourself out, okay?”

Ruan Cha returned the hug, then gave her dad one too. “Got it. You two look way more nervous than I am. Alright, I’m heading in now. See you at lunch.”

“See you at lunch,” they echoed.

Several senior teachers from No. 2 High were waiting outside No. 4 High, holding folders filled with spare erasers and scantron pens—just in case students forgot anything.

Among them, Ruan Cha spotted her Grade 12 Class 1 math teacher, who students usually called “Mr. Stoneface.”

“Teacher,” she greeted with a grin, “I’ll go fetch you a math top scorer from this year’s Gaokao!”

Even Mr. Stoneface, always serious, looked softer today. He couldn’t help but smile. “Big words, huh?”

He stretched out his hand. “Come, shake with me. Maybe some of my former math champion luck will rub off on you.”

Ruan Cha didn’t hesitate and shook his hand firmly. “Thanks, Teacher!”

Originally, Xu Nan, Huang Jiajia, Xie Changan, Xie Sui, and Ji Feiyang all wanted to stop by to cheer her on before heading back to No. 2 to support Fu Chen, but unfortunately, due to new city regulations, first-years had the day off while second-years were kept at their non-testing schools to prevent any chance of impersonation.

As time ticked down, more and more students crowded toward the exam halls. Ruan Cha and Lin Yushu, both testing at No. 4, held hands and encouraged each other.

Right before they split to head to their own exam rooms, Lin Yushu rushed up and gave Ruan Cha a tight hug, her voice excited but nervous. “Top student, let me absorb some of your brilliance!”

Maybe it was a No. 2 High tradition—or maybe just a senior-year ritual—but before the big test, students always wanted to hug the class’s top scorers, hoping to soak in a little academic blessing.

Ruan Cha hugged her back. “Sure, and after we absorb it, let’s meet again at Beijing University.”

Originally, she was aiming for South University. But last month, her parents had taken her to Beijing to look at some apartments they secretly bought near Beida, hoping she’d treat one as their family home there.

Only after seeing the fully furnished, move-in-ready apartment did Ruan Cha realize how much her parents had quietly done behind the scenes.

Now that Yu Zheng had been arrested, Ruan Zhengfei and Wei Jiao weren’t so worried anymore.

Their plan was simple: once Ruan Cha started college, they’d split their time between Beijing and their hometown, and reunite as a full family during holidays to spend time with Grandpa Liang in Nan City.

Hearing her mention Beida didn’t surprise Lin Yushu at all—they’d already talked about it and were completely in sync. She nodded with determination. “Okay!”

They smiled at each other, hugged one last time, and said in unison: “Let’s do this!”

The vibe during the college entrance exam was entirely different from any regular school test—not just in the teachers’ expressions, but in the students’ hearts too.

Inside the exam hall, Ruan Cha was seated in the first row by the window. Lifting her head slightly, she could see the view below: a small artificial lake, sunlight spilling across its surface in golden ribbons—bright, warm.

Just like…

Her future.

No longer under Yu Zheng’s threat, no longer afraid for her family. All that remained was a future filled with light, love, and being loved.

She withdrew her gaze, looked back down at her exam paper, and with both focus and gratitude, prepared to tackle the final test of her high school years.

—

In the second week after Gaokao, Three Whales Limited released its first mobile game since acquisition: Planet Management Handbook.

Ordinarily, a brand-new mobile game—especially one without a PC version legacy—would struggle to gain traction.

But—

The company wasn’t short on cash, so no obstacle truly stood in the way.

LED tower ads in the city center, embedded promotions on video sites, aggressive campaigns on Weibo, and even celebrity Liang Cunjin volunteering as brand ambassador—

Planet Management Handbook made a splash the moment it launched.

Positioned as a futuristic sci-fi simulation game, players act as mayors of cities on a distant planet, responsible for city planning, blueprints, construction, and rebuilding civilization from a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

At first glance, it didn’t seem all that different from other sim games—until its visuals, modeling, and imaginative sci-fi design started capturing waves of players drawn in by their curiosity for the unknown.

But after one month, the more advanced players began noticing something special.

At the heart of every planet, there was a library.
Not tied to the main questline, the library was simply a “bonus” feature.

To enter, players had to complete a custom quiz generated at random by the library within 30 minutes. No two quizzes were alike, and even one player’s first and second attempts would be completely different.

Those who scored 80 or above would receive not just a key to the library, but also a bonus equivalent to 10,000 in-game currency.

At first, everyone rushed in for the reward. But they quickly realized scoring 80+ was hard—unless you were truly skilled in a specific area.

Within half a month, the first wave of players who unlocked the library realized just how valuable it was. The knowledge they gained helped them optimize their cities—and in some cases—

They even turned ideas from the game into real-world innovations.

【Ruan Cha, the library is now open up to books covering the next fifty years of technology. But giving out rewards to push players into learning—aren’t you worried you’ll lose money?】

When the system posed its question, Ruan Cha was anxiously watching the long line of traffic outside the car window.

The day after Seven-Star reopened, Ruan Cha and Fu Chen had made plans via WeChat to use their couples set menu card at the restaurant. But beyond just having a meal, Ruan Cha was also hoping to confess her feelings before heading off to college.

Since the end of the college entrance exams, their relationship had remained steady as always, but something slow and tender had quietly grown between them—a mutual understanding neither had put into words.

Still, Ruan Cha felt that some things couldn’t just stay unspoken. They had to be said out loud.

“I’m not worried. We’ve only opened access to technology from the next fifty years. Even if we eventually unlock a hundred or a thousand years into the future, it’s fine if it loses money.” As she spoke, Ruan Cha pulled up the financial dashboard on her phone, which showed both the official expenditures and player spending in the game. Clearly, the game was still making a profit even after the library feature had launched.

Players who learned new knowledge from the library and wanted to apply it to their cities had to buy materials from the in-game shop to build things accordingly.

In fact, the only reason players could even see the information in the library was because Ruan Cha had memorized it first. Otherwise, that knowledge would never have existed in the game’s data stream in the first place.

While her memory wasn’t quite as exceptional as her parents’, she could still easily recall anything she had read at a glance.

The one surprise was that after the system reclaimed the control panel, the antivirus program somehow upgraded itself half a month later, giving Ruan Cha much stronger control over the library feature.

For example, knowledge covering the next twenty years no longer required her to memorize it in advance—it could be directly rendered in the virtual world.

Of course, there were limitations. If a player read and genuinely understood something in the game’s library, they could retain that knowledge in real life. But if they didn’t absorb it, they would forget it entirely.

When Ruan Cha developed Planet Management Handbook, she hadn’t set out to make money—her true goal was to fully utilize the library. What she and the planning team hadn’t expected was that something they thought would scare players off had ended up wildly popular.

One by one, people who didn’t even like studying in real life began cramming hard for a shot at the ¥10,000 in-game bonus—desperate to score an 80 or higher on the quiz to enter the library.

Meanwhile, players who already had expertise in certain areas would immediately test out what they learned in the library within their cities—and were often eager to apply it to their real lives, too.

【Ruan Cha, I’ve detected several batches of accounts registering from the same locations—one of them even shows activity in a research institute.】

“Probably someone at the institute tried Planet Management Handbook and realized some of the principles actually work in real life,” Ruan Cha replied. She’d already expected this might happen, though admittedly it had happened sooner than she thought. “It’s fine. There’s a lot of wild, imaginative stuff from kids in the game. We didn’t release everything outright—we just gave players a spark. Most of what follows is built by them.”

She poked the sticky-rice-ball-like system and smiled. “Sometimes, a wild idea from a kid, once pointed in the right direction, might actually work.”

And that’s what the library was doing—pointing in the right direction, preventing detours and wasted effort. Everything else the players created themselves; it had nothing to do with the library.

【……】

Suddenly, the system understood why Ruan Cha had visited every kindergarten in Nan City a month before the game’s launch. So that’s why their “Star Origin Library” couldn’t be introduced so openly—they needed kids as a cover!

—

At 11 a.m., inside the waiting lounge at Seven-Star, the moment Ruan Cha arrived, she spotted Fu Chen waiting there in a black hoodie, calm and composed.

“Sorry, Fu Chen.” Ruan Cha ran over quickly, carrying a shoulder bag. “I forgot my phone when I left, had to turn back, and then got stuck in traffic.”

As she stepped up the stairs, Fu Chen subtly raised a hand to steady her in case she tripped.

He shook his head. “I’ve only been here a few minutes. And besides, we agreed on eleven—you’re right on time.”

The server who had come to greet them gave Fu Chen a sidelong glance, then quickly looked away.

Which planet are you from, dude? Since when is waiting an hour considered “a few minutes”?

This particular server knew both Ruan Cha and Fu Chen.

After all, Fu Chen’s father was a long-time VIP at Seven-Star and often hosted guests there. Fu Chen had accompanied him on several occasions. With the restaurant’s limited reservations and low daily capacity, good-looking patrons like him were easy to remember.

In the server’s eyes, Fu Chen had always been the classic, well-mannered young heir—polite, poised, and respectful toward the staff.

But today, something was different. Despite his usual calmness even under academic or business pressure, Fu Chen had clearly shown signs of nervousness during the past hour of waiting.

“I made a reservation online using the couples set menu card,” Ruan Cha explained as she handed over the gold card. “You extended the expiration after the temporary closure, right? We’re using it today.”

Then she pointed upstairs. “We’ll head up ourselves—thank you.”

Once the pair had disappeared from view, the server stared at the golden card in hand, where the big, bold word “Couple” shimmered under the light.

Wait—Chef He Wuwei’s niece… brought her boyfriend to eat the couple’s set menu?!

He bolted to the dessert kitchen. “He Wuwei, big news!”

Your niece is in a relationship!

The same niece who just ranked top in the college entrance exams is in a relationship!!

When the Gaokao scores had been released, He Wuwei had proudly blasted a red envelope in the Seven-Star staff group chat, even wondering aloud if anyone would be worthy of his niece in the future.

Well… looks like you were too late, He Wuwei. She’s already picked her man!

The boss had reserved a private room for Ruan Cha on the second floor—same one she used when she invited Yan Ruocan over. The seat had a stunning view of Nan City.

Ruan Cha was in high spirits… until she rounded a corner on the second floor and ran straight into Xie Changan and Huang Jiajia.

The four of them stood face-to-face. No one could tell if the awkwardness or surprise was stronger.

Xie Changan scratched his head. “Ruan Cha, Fu Chen, you guys here to eat too? I actually made this reservation before Spring Festival and just now got in. Wanna share a table?”

Ruan Cha, Huang Jiajia, and Fu Chen: “……”

Before winter break, Xie Changan had made a bet with Huang Jiajia: whoever scored lower on finals had to treat the other to a meal at Seven-Star.

After getting his results, he immediately made the reservation—but without VIP connections or ties to the restaurant’s owners, his waitlist had stretched all the way to August. If it hadn’t been for the surprise closure, they probably would’ve been seated back in April.

Now, seeing Ruan Cha and Fu Chen, his first instinct was: “Hey, since we all know each other, why not combine tables?”

Ruan Cha hadn’t sorted out her feelings back then and probably would’ve agreed. But now? She’d planned this lunch specifically to confess—how could she let that plan get derailed?

“Nope.”

“No way.”

“Are you stupid?!”

Xie Changan: “……”

What did I do?? All I said was we could sit together—why are all three of you ganging up on me?!

“I have something I want to say to Cha Cha alone.” Fu Chen cut off Xie Changan before he could speak, then added with a light smile, “When we have the chance later, we can all get together with Xu Nan, Ji Feiyang, Sleepybag and the rest.”

Xie Changan had a sudden realization and clapped his fist into his palm. “If we met first, and Ji Feiyang found out, he’d definitely raise a fuss. Got it, we’ll eat separately.”

Seeing this, Ruan Cha and Huang Jiajia both let out a small sigh of relief.

As it turned out, some people’s brains just didn’t work the same as others. Huang Jiajia dragged Xie Changan away by force, and just as they were about to disappear from view, Xie Changan turned and shouted, “Which room are you two in? Old Huang and I will come visit later!”

The remaining three: “…”

Huang Jiajia was completely fed up with Xie Changan’s lack of awareness. She yanked him harder toward their private room. “What are those big eyes for, huh? Just for decoration?!”

Disturbing someone’s love life—may lightning strike you!

Once the two were finally gone, Ruan Cha turned to Fu Chen and gave him a look. “Shall we—”

“After you.” Fu Chen smiled, extending his arm in a gentlemanly gesture. “The card says it’s a couple’s meal. Can’t have a third wheel. And today’s meal should count as you helping me fulfill a wish, right?”

At first, hearing him emphasize “couple’s meal” made Ruan Cha a little uneasy, like her secret thoughts had almost been exposed. But the moment Fu Chen brought up the king-and-angel wish game from school, her attention shifted.

“Of course it counts. The card’s usable three times now that the restaurant reopened, so that means I can grant you three wishes.”

They arrived at their private room as they chatted.

Fu Chen pulled out a chair for Ruan Cha, letting her sit first. He raised his brows at her words, looking slightly troubled. “Compared to you, I’ve been a pretty lousy angel. I only fulfilled one wish for you.”

“No, two.”

“Two?”

Fu Chen was originally trying to steer the conversation to get her to tell him more wishes, but didn’t expect her to say he’d already fulfilled two. “Cha Cha, what was the second one?”

The second week after the Gaokao, when the seniors returned to school, it was finally time for the king-and-angel identities to be revealed.

Both Ruan Cha and Fu Chen had been surprised when they learned who their angel was.

All along, the two had never needed their “angel” to actually do anything—their wishes had been fulfilled through their own actions.

Fu Chen: Who my angel is doesn’t matter. As long as I can use the angel game as an excuse to do nice things for Cha Cha, that’s enough.

Ruan Cha: Since my angel never showed up, I’ll just have Fu Chen help me with my wishes instead. Oh my god, Fu Chen actually brought up studying together himself. Now I don’t have to blow my cover as the angel!

↑ These were their actual thoughts during the angel-and-king game.

At first, Ruan Cha had been thrilled to learn that she and Fu Chen were each other’s angel. It felt like fate.

Until that afternoon, when she accidentally saw the official list of angels and kings on the homeroom teacher’s desk.

There, next to Fu Chen’s name, was someone else—not her. And her own angel wasn’t named Fu Chen either.

That same night, Ruan Cha messaged the guy who was supposed to be her angel.

It turned out, he sat next to Fu Chen. When he drew Ruan Cha’s name, Fu Chen saw it and they made a deal—Fu Chen would take his place.

So that “destiny” Ruan Cha believed in? It had actually come from someone’s quiet, determined effort all along.

“Yep, two wishes.” Ruan Cha smiled at Fu Chen, her dark eyes glinting playfully. “But the second one’s a secret. I can’t tell you.”

That second wish—

When she first heard about the king-and-angel game, her only hope had been: please let my angel be Fu Chen.

Compared to her first wish, that second one had already come true from the very beginning.

Fu Chen was curious, but when Ruan Cha smiled like that, he couldn’t help but smile back. When he spoke again, his tone was gentle but filled with something only he understood.

“Just two? When you have more in the future, as long as I’m able to, I’ll help make every single one come true.”

Across from him, Ruan Cha looked into his smiling eyes—and her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, she didn’t want to wait until after the meal to say it. She wanted to say it now, right now—to make this couple’s meal real in name and in feeling.

“Fu Chen, we’ll be going to Peking University this September, and actually, there’s something I—”

“Cha Cha.”

Just as she was about to confess, Fu Chen suddenly interrupted. Ruan Cha blinked in surprise. “Ah? Fu Chen, what is it?”

He’d originally planned to apply to Tsinghua, but after learning Ruan Cha was going to Peking, he changed his choice the day before final submissions.

So Cha Cha was going to Peking U, huh?

At first, just being in the same city had felt enough. But after those weekends they spent together, Fu Chen realized—being in the same city wasn’t enough. He wanted the same school. He wanted to walk her to class, hold her hand on campus, hug her in front of the dorms… and kiss her beneath the sunset.

He straightened up slightly and looked her in the eye, his voice steady and serious. “I heard from your second brother that you’re planning to take Uncle and Auntie with you to Beijing.”

“Yeah, our family has a few apartments near campus. My mom and dad didn’t feel at ease, so they said they’d go too.” Ruan Cha had actually been about to say that if Fu Chen had time on weekends, he could just come over for meals.

But when she saw the solemn look on his face, she swallowed her words and decided to wait. The next thing Fu Chen said made her wonder if she’d misheard.

He took a deep breath, speaking slowly and clearly, each word ringing out:

“Cha Cha, since you’re already bringing your parents along… would you mind adding one more person to your life? Someone who can go anywhere with you—your knight.”

You said you wanted a knight. So let me be that knight—your knight, and yours alone.

Ruan Cha opened her mouth, but for a moment, no words came.

A knock at the door broke the silence—the server had brought their food. Dish after exquisite dish was placed on the table, but neither of them paid attention.

Fu Chen saw Ruan Cha frozen in place and sighed inwardly, wondering if he’d rushed things. He was just about to say something to smooth things over, when he suddenly saw Ruan Cha smile.

That smile—it was brighter than the sunlight streaming through the window.

The next second, he heard her reply. Her voice was clear, light, and laced with laughter, like powdered sugar falling softly onto the heart.

“I don’t care if it’s a knight or a prince. I just want that person’s name… to be Fu Chen.”

End of main story.