Ch 101 (Extra 1): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

After Ruan Cha and Fu Chen went from secretly liking each other to openly liking each other, both of their families found out. Some reacted like they’d long seen it coming—like Grandpa Liang, Ruan’s parents, and Liang Zongjin.

And then there were those completely shocked, like the eldest branch of the Fu family. None of them had picked up on Fu Chen’s sneaky little moves before.

But the most surprised of all was Fu Chen’s father.

His son caught on way too fast—he’d thought it would take at least a year or two of college before anything happened!

Fu Dad rubbed his shoulder and let out a light hiss. “Son, you moved too fast. Couldn’t you have waited until college, when the emperor’s far away? Just look at this—your uncle and Ruan Cha’s dad teamed up and gave me a hard time!”

As he spoke, he waved his shoulder in front of Fu Chen, adopting an aggrieved tone. “It’s bruised! I don’t get it—you’rethe one who made the move, why do I have to take the fall for it?”

Fu Chen gave a very polite glance to the bean-sized bruise on his dad’s shoulder and looked speechless. “Dad, next time you want to complain, maybe bring a magnifying glass.”

“But since Uncle and Uncle Ruan invited you out, I guess they won’t be blocking me and Cha Cha anymore.”

As he spoke, a smile crept across Fu Chen’s face, like little pink bubbles were floating all around him.

Just thinking about what Cha Cha had said yesterday at Seven-Point Star—how she didn’t care about princes or knights, as long as the person she brought was called Fu Chen—made him feel like his heart was going to melt. He could smile himself awake just thinking about it.

Cha Cha was just too adorable.

Fu Dad watched his son go upstairs looking like spring had come early, opened his mouth as if to say something, then just chuckled and muttered, “You little rascal.”

“Oh, right, Dad.” Fu Chen turned around at the top of the stairs, his smile softening. “Tomorrow’s the weekend. Let’s go visit Mom.”

When Fu Chen was very young, his mother Liang Yue passed away. For over a decade now, it had just been father and son. Each year, they visited the cemetery three or four times—on Qingming, her birthday, the anniversary.

Fu Chen’s memories of Liang Yue had faded over the years, but he still remembered that she’d been gentle, a great storyteller, and a talented painter. Her art still filled the home studio, untouched.

Fu Dad froze for a second, then gave a soft laugh. “Of course we should go. Tell your mom you got into Peking University. Tell her you have a girlfriend now—let her be happy, too.”

As he spoke, a smile remained on his face, but his eyes reddened slightly. Even after all these years, he still often thought about how much happier life would’ve been if Liang Yue were still here.

She might’ve held Fu Chen’s hand, teaching him how to treat Cha Cha. She might’ve flipped through old photo albums with Cha Cha, sharing silly stories about her son growing up.

Fu Chen lowered his gaze. Even if they bickered, he knew how hard his dad had worked to raise him alone.

That same night, on the other side of things, Ruan Cha was called to the study by Grandpa Liang.

The study used to be solemn and traditional, everything in its place. But over time, little traces of warmth had crept in—Sanse tomatoes raised by Wei Jiao, stone carvings she and Liang Zongjin made together, matching seat cushions bought by Wei Jiao and Cha Cha, a ceramic mug Cha Cha gave for the New Year.

Grandpa Liang had always loved staying in the study, but after these touches were added, he stayed even longer. He even brought his old friends straight in here instead of using the reception room.

He’d show off the plants, the carvings, the cushions—his old buddies were all jealous. At their age, it wasn’t money that mattered anymore, but love and thoughtfulness from the younger generation.

No one had expected they would become the ones being shown off.

As soon as Ruan Cha stepped in, Grandpa Liang’s serious face softened noticeably. “Cha Cha, come sit. Grandpa had them make a few of your favorite cakes. Let’s eat and chat.”

“Grandpa, you can’t eat too much sugar.” Ruan Cha picked a low-sugar cake and placed it in front of him, choosing a red bean roll for herself. “Only half.”

Grandpa Liang chuckled. “Half it is.”

Once she saw him eating, Ruan Cha calmly finished a few bites and some fruit tea. “You want to talk about Fu Chen, right?”

After their confession at Seven-Point Star yesterday, Fu Chen had gone to the Liang house this morning and reported everything—his feelings and the progress between him and Cha Cha.

That afternoon, Fu Dad had been pulled away by Liang Zongqi and Ruan Zhengfei, returning alone in the evening, unlike the other two who came back together.

“Cha Cha,” Grandpa Liang said slowly, “I’m honestly very happy for you both. Fu Chen’s character is more than good. But I’ll admit—this is also partly selfish.”

He paused. From the first time he’d noticed Fu Chen’s intentions to now, several months had passed.

“But Cha Cha,” he continued, “even if all of us in the family support this, if anything ever happens between you two in college or after, you have to follow your own heart. Don’t let what others think hold you back. No matter what, your happiness matters most to Grandpa.”

From school uniforms to wedding dresses—it sounded beautiful, but few truly achieved it.

He smiled again and shook his head. Thinking about it seriously, both Wei Jiao and Liang Yue had somehow ended up marrying their childhood sweethearts. Now their children were following in their footsteps.

Still, he worried. If, once the two matured, their hearts changed, they might feel pressured by family ties to stay together against their will.

In other cases, a breakup was just a breakup. But their two families had deep ties, and that made things more complicated.

Ruan Cha froze for a second, her heart warm. Then she couldn’t help but laugh. “Grandpa, you’ve got too little faith in us. We just confessed yesterday, and you’re already giving me breakup advice?”

She added with a serious nod, “But I promise—I’ll always follow my heart. I’ll never force myself.”

Grandpa Liang laughed heartily, pushing away a touch of bittersweetness. “Good. As long as you’re not suffering. You’ll be heading to Beijing soon—remember to video call us often. Your uncles and aunts, your brothers, we’ll all miss you a lot.”

“Mm-hmm. Thank you, Grandpa.” Ruan Cha stood and walked around the desk to hug him, sniffling softly. “Once a week video calls. I’ll come home every holiday—Labor Day, National Day, New Year’s. I’ll miss everyone too.”

Grandpa Liang gently patted her back and sighed, hoping time would slow just a bit longer—long enough to let him witness Cha Cha’s happiness.

After chatting, Ruan Cha returned to her room, finished the book she’d been studying for days, and lay down to sleep.

Maybe it was the excitement of having just come clean to her family, or maybe the reading had tired her out, but the moment her head hit the pillow—

She fell into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

And once again—

She became lucid in the dream.

The first time, she’d read a book in her dream, learning to be wary of Ren Qingqing and discovering her family’s fate.
The second time, she watched the life of the “book version” of Ruan Cha—how she turned from bright and carefree to sensitive and despairing—and came to fear Yu Zheng.

The third time, Ruan Cha personally saw the X-virus chip shoot out from under Ren Qingqing’s skin and explode. She watched as Ren Qingqing went insane, and then wrote everything that had happened in the first timeline into a novel called Top Academic God System.

And the fourth time—

Ruan Cha stood frozen in place, staring blankly at the tombstone before her. Her tears burst forth uncontrollably, blurring her vision in an instant.

“Mom…” she murmured, pressing a hand to her mouth as her voice choked. Her whole chest felt like it was being gripped tight by a giant invisible hand—her heart wasn’t beating, it just hurt. Deeply, bitterly.

In front of her were two tombstones, side by side. One bore her own photo, the other Wei Jiao’s. The two of them had similar almond eyes, curved in gentle, smiling arcs. So pretty.

Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the photo of Wei Jiao. And the moment she did, bits and pieces of memories from the Ruan Cha of the first timeline surfaced in her mind.

So that’s what happened.

Both photos had been cut from the only family portrait Ruan Zhengfei had kept—from the Spring Festival when she graduated junior high.

In that first timeline, their family of three had lived in an ordinary little courtyard. No grandpa, no man-made lake, no mountain. They’d gotten by running a small restaurant—busy, but fulfilling.

The year she finished ninth grade, it had snowed heavily. Her father had built a huge snowman in the yard, and the three of them took a photo in front of it.

Ruan Cha rubbed her temples lightly.

So in that timeline, they never had a tradition of yearly family portraits.

Only in this second timeline—after everything she’d been through—did her father start the custom of annual photos. And exchanging New Year gifts during Spring Festival had become a thing, too.

“Fu Chen… thank you. You’ve kept coming all these years.”

Ruan Cha heard a familiar voice, one older and more weary than she remembered.

She turned instinctively—only to suddenly realize—

It was snowing.

Two people were walking toward the tombstones in black coats. Snowflakes landed on their shoulders and quickly melted. Their faces gradually came into focus.

Fu Chen. And her father.

But something was different.

Fu Chen looked older, more mature. Her father looked haggard and aged. His once-carefully groomed appearance was gone; his face was unshaven, his expression full of exhaustion.

Ruan Cha’s hand curled tightly by her side.

And then she could only stand there, helpless, watching them walk past her to the tombstones—unable to see her.

Fu Chen placed a bouquet in front of her grave, gaze lowered, his voice low and hoarse.

“Uncle, you don’t need to thank me. If I had been more attentive back then at school… I might have been able to stop it.”

He paused, then crouched down in front of the tombstone. Looking up at Ruan Cha’s photo, his expression grew complicated, and his voice cracked slightly.

“Cha Cha… I’m sorry. Back then, I didn’t notice how abnormal Ren Qingqing had become. I didn’t protect you.”

“We came today because there’s something we wanted to tell you and Aunt Wei Jiao.”

He reached out and brushed the snow off the ground. Then he took out two damaged chips and placed them gently in front of the tombstones.

“Ren Qingqing and Yu Zheng… they’re both dead now.”