Ch 116: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s In what felt like the blink of an eye, May arrived, and the college entrance exams were just around the corner. The twins’ grades had already stabilized. With the remaining time, the focus was on reinforcing what they had learned. Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an provided them with a steady, comfortable environment. They were careful with food as well, avoiding large amounts of seafood or grilled meat, worried it might upset their stomachs or cause illness and interfere with the exams. While the twins worked hard to consolidate their studies, Yu Xiang’an quietly prepared coming-of-age gifts for them. Once they were admitted to university, they would essentially become independent and begin lives of their own. Before they received their admission letters, Yu Xiang’an did not plan to tell them anything, so they would not overthink and distract themselves from studying. During this time, they also received plenty of encouragement from relatives and friends, some called, some wrote letters. No matter the method, it all reflected care and importance. The two of them were disciplined. After studying for so long, whether they could achieve results they were satisfied with now depended on the exam. They understood how critical this period was. If not to the extreme of hanging one’s hair from a beam and stabbing one’s thigh with an awl, it was close. Among their classmates, Zhuo Mingwei planned to study abroad. Some universities still considered Gaokao scores, so he did not relax either. Everyone was tense. Yu Xiang’an was tense as well. After raising children for so many years, with two who were so sensible and obedient, how could she not care? This was something that would affect their entire lives. A good university meant a good starting point. Even if they would have more choices than most, a strong university was still an advantage. A good university was a good platform, where they could meet better teachers and connect with more capable, like-minded peers. Day by day, Yu Xiang’an felt more nervous than she had for her own exams. She had confidence in herself. But this was her children’s exam. Lin Chuanbai gave a wry smile. “No wonder so many parents wait outside during the exams. I completely understand now.” At last, the day of the exam arrived. Yu Xiang’an booked a room near the test center so they could rest at noon. She even borrowed a kitchen to cook their meals herself. No questions about scores. No added pressure. Only concern for their health. From the look of them, their condition seemed good. They probably had not done poorly. After the final exam ended, even the usually reserved Lin Yihong could not hold back his excitement. He rushed out of the school, and with him as the lead, students poured out of the exam hall like wild horses released from their reins. Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai waited under a tree. Watching them, they could not help but smile. At last, the exam was over. In the car, Lin Yining’s tone was much brighter than usual. “Mom, I want to eat good food, all kinds of good food. I want to go out, go somewhere else, travel a bit. These past days have been suffocating. I’m exhausted.” Not a word about her score. Yu Xiang’an said, “Alright, but first you need to estimate your scores.” The system was still the same as before. First estimate your score, then fill out your applications. It was different from choosing schools after knowing your exact results. Lin Yining groaned. “Ah, we still have to fill out applications first.” Seeing her like this, Yu Xiang’an felt at ease. “Seems like you didn’t do badly.” Lin Yining said, “I think it went pretty well. Everything was smooth. I didn’t run into anything too difficult.” As she spoke, she began to smile. Lin Yihong nodded as well. “I felt it went smoothly too.” Yu Xiang’an did not take them home, but straight to school. They estimated their scores together with their classmates. Then their teacher’s smile became impossible to hide. This year, their school’s ranking in the province would likely look much better than last year. Just as they had felt, both of them had performed steadily at their level. Their choice of schools was now wide open. Only then did they truly relax. Yu Xiang’an gave each of them a sum of money to go out, enjoy themselves, and buy what they needed. They bought all kinds of things they might need for university, storage boxes, wallets, shoes, and other useful items. Even some things just for appearance. In daily life, they did not own many expensive items. Aside from their home being relatively large, its decoration was no different from others. Comfort mattered most. If they wanted luxury, they could always stay in a hotel for a few days. The two of them went out early every day and returned late at night, running around with their classmates. Yu Xiang’an did not interfere. After they had had their fill of fun, she took them out to “scout locations.” Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai had each prepared four apartments for them, one each in Yangcheng, the Special Economic Zone, the capital, and Changsha. All were spacious flats over 120 square meters, and the one in the capital was even a duplex. The siblings’ units were either across the hall from each other or on different floors of the same building. All had basic renovations and essential furniture. They could move in after a simple cleaning. In addition, each of them received two shopfronts. Yu Xiang’an made things clear in advance. “From now on, your father and I won’t cover your living expenses. The rent you collect each month will be your income. Whether you want to live off the rent steadily or take the properties back and do something else with them is up to you. We won’t interfere. These houses are yours. If you want to sell them, you can, but we won’t make up for it afterward. This counts as a simple division of assets. When you get married, your father and I will give you something more. As for the rest, your father and I are still healthy, and we have a long future ahead. Don’t count on it.” The twins: “…” It felt like becoming rich overnight. Before this, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai had been strict with money. The full chapter is up on HololoNovels dot com. Aside from letting them keep their New Year gift money, they only provided modest allowances. Now… it was like night and day. They still did not have much cash. But their total assets were considerable. As for “dividing the family,” they did not really grasp the concept yet. For now, they had no other plans. They would just collect rent. Managing things themselves would take too much time, especially since the shopfronts were in the Special Economic Zone, while the schools they chose were elsewhere. Yu Xiang’an also said that once their admission letters arrived, she would gift them one or two more shopfronts near their universities. At that point, if they wanted to try something else, they could. After all, they were students. Students should dare to explore and take risks. Later in life, there would only be more restrictions. Lin Yihong’s path was already set once he entered university. Lin Yining, although she had chosen a direction, was still young. If she wanted to change, she could do so at any time. If neither of them changed their plans, they would not take over the family business. That would be left to future grandchildren. If no one wanted it, they could always hire professional managers. There were always more solutions than problems. When the admission letters arrived, Wang Lipan did indeed become Lin Yihong’s classmate. Everything was settled. Once the two children left for university, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai were finally free. For years, they had adjusted many things around their children. Now that the twins were going off to school, it was time for them to be independent. In some aspects, the parents no longer needed to hold back, like hiding in their room and turning off the lights to pretend to sleep before entering their space. When it was time for the twins to leave for university, they learned something unexpected. Wang Yongle would be the one taking them to school. First to Changsha, then to the capital. Their parents would not be going with them. They were grown now. They had to handle it themselves. The twins: “…” It almost felt like once they got into university, the children suddenly became like grass, left to grow on their own. Yu Qingshan: “……” Not sending the children off to university was one thing, they were already grown after all. But ever since the twins left for college, the two of them seemed to have returned to their younger days. One day it was a date, the next day another outing, leaving on a whim. Only after quite some time did they settle back into their usual rhythm, each busy with their own things. Yu Qingshan shook his head. Young people. And truth be told, he did not agree with his daughter giving the twins so much at this age. The shops and apartments had all been transferred into their names. They were still young. What if, in a moment of impulse, they sold everything for cash and spent it recklessly? That would be squandering the family wealth. Although he believed the twins’ character would not lead them to do such things, it was still a great deal of money. He could not help but worry. But both his daughter and son-in-law agreed, and the twins themselves agreed as well. Outnumbered, he could only watch. * University life was undoubtedly colorful. Classmates came from all over, and roommates were from different places, of varying ages and personalities. For the twins, this was their first time living in dormitories. Lin Yihong had no choice, and Lin Yining had no intention of seeking special treatment. If she got along well with her roommates, she planned to live in the dorm for all four years. Otherwise, she might feel she had missed out. The apartment outside could be used on weekends, for example, to take laundry back or cook something nice. Both of them adapted quickly. Lin Yihong was confined within the campus most of the time. Discipline was strict, as expected in a military-style system. Every time Lin Yining went out on weekends, she could not help but feel relieved she had not chosen a military academy as well, otherwise she would have been under the same restrictions. Another thing worth mentioning was that shortly after arriving at school, Lin Yining was selected as the “department beauty.” Outwardly, she maintained composure and modestly declined the title, but inside she was absolutely delighted. At school, she kept a relatively low profile. She described her family as running a small business. Her daily food and belongings were slightly better than average, but not excessively so. Compared to those flaunting wealth, she lived quietly. Everyone had their own way of living. She wanted to be accepted by her classmates. If she flaunted her wealth as well, it would create a gap between them that might never be bridged. She often visited her great-grandfather, Lin Duzhong. In a way, Lin Duzhong had become a walking advertisement. He had been drinking the ginseng tonic wine Lin Chuanbai provided, and seeing how healthy and vigorous he remained, looking as though he would live a long time yet, many elderly people who feared death began placing orders. The ginseng tonic wine from Yu Xiang’an’s family was now rarely sold openly. Even advance reservations were not enough to meet demand. With connections and favors involved, the price had been raised, yet demand only increased. Whenever Lin Yining visited Lin Duzhong, she would bring food and daily necessities. After all, she now lived off rental income from four shops. Her wallet was well supplied. As for Li Yujiao, she was filled with jealousy. What use was it for a girl to have so many houses and shops? Once she married, it would all belong to someone else. What a nouveau riche family. Her parents were the same. With so much wealth, how could they forget she still had a younger brother? On top of that, things were not going smoothly on her daughter-in-law’s side. She had tried to make life difficult for her daughter-in-law in hopes of forcing a divorce, but instead she had become known in her social circle as a vicious mother-in-law. Whenever she went to her son’s place, the daughter-in-law would conveniently not be home. She could not even see her, let alone trouble her. Her reputation had become the backlash against her, and she had nearly lost access to her granddaughter as well, which infuriated her. At times like this, she even regretted marrying into a family with such a strong background. It would have been better to choose someone with no backing. Then replacing a daughter-in-law would not have faced such resistance. Occasionally, when Lin Yining visited Lin Duzhong, she would overhear Li Yujiao’s complaints. Internally, she could not help but sigh. Women making things difficult for other women, what was the point? Her aunt-in-law truly had terrible luck to become her daughter-in-law. Just because she had not given birth to a grandson, she had become an enemy. But was having a son or daughter something a woman could decide? In the end, it came down to the man. If anything, blame should fall on her uncle. It was he who fathered a daughter. Lin Yining kept these thoughts to herself, saying nothing aloud. Otherwise, she might get dragged into the mess. She knew Li Yujiao envied the properties and shops owned by her and her brother. Lin Duzhong had tried to advise her, but she would not listen. There was nothing more he could do. After all, she was his daughter-in-law, and there were many things he could not say as her father-in-law. Since the birth of her granddaughter, she no longer seemed as spirited as before. The full chapter is up on HololoNovels dot com. She used to pay great attention to her appearance, always dressing neatly wherever she went, eating black sesame regularly to maintain her hair’s shine. Now strands of gray had begun to appear, and the lines on her face had grown more pronounced. She looked sharper, harsher than before. Today, Lin Yining brought some steamed sponge cakes. “Great-grandpa, try these. A new shop opened near my school. Their craftsmanship is excellent. There’s always a line.” Lin Duzhong chuckled and took a bite. “They really are good.” Lin Yining said, “I’ll buy more next time.” Lin Duzhong smiled. “Then I’ll be in for a treat. Last time you mentioned an old classmate who finally got in touch with you again. How did that go?” After returning to the capital, Lin Yining had gradually reconnected with some childhood friends, former neighbors and classmates. Most of them had found their own paths. Some were in university, some already working, some had moved to other cities, and some had gone abroad. That particular one had gone overseas right after middle school graduation. They had been kindergarten classmates and lived close by, often playing together. Lin Yining nodded. “We got back in touch. He’s a freshman now too. He said he actually wanted to come back to study here, but his parents didn’t agree.” Their school had publicly funded study-abroad spots, fiercely competitive each year. But some people were homesick and did not want to live abroad. Lin Duzhong laughed. “That’s rare. Do you want to go abroad for graduate school in the future?” Lin Yining planned to pursue a double degree during her undergraduate years. As for graduate school, she had not decided yet. “Great-grandpa, I’ll see. In some areas, foreign countries are indeed more advanced, but there are many things I’m not used to.” She frowned. She had been to quite a few countries. Short visits were fine, but over a long period, she found it hard to adjust. The biggest issue was food. Her tastes had long since become refined. Lin Duzhong said, “Then take your time thinking about it. There’s no rush. By the way, come fishing with me tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to an old friend.” One of his regular fishing companions was a renowned professor in Lin Yining’s university’s Chinese department. Lin Yining needed a mentor, not just a teacher lecturing many students, but someone who would take her on as a disciple. Yu Xiang’an had previously taken her to visit such respected teachers, but after being evaluated, she had been declined. Lin Duzhong said, “I’ve known him for a long time. Since you’re in university and still want to continue with calligraphy, I’ll introduce you. If there’s a connection between you…” He did not need to finish the sentence. Lin Yining grew excited. Who would not want a good mentor? “Which professor is it?” “He’s surnamed Shi.” “I know him!” Lin Yining’s eyes lit up. “I’ve practiced using his copybooks before. His work has its own character. I can imitate the form, but not the spirit.” At that moment, they heard the sound of a car. It was the weekend, and Lin Tiandong had called ahead to say he would be bringing his wife and daughter home. Because of this, Li Yujiao had been busy since early morning preparing groceries. “Uncle, Auntie, and Xuanxuan~” Lin Yining greeted them with a smile. The little girl was just over a year old, chubby and fair, her speech still unclear, irresistibly adorable. Li Yujiao wanted a grandson, but faced with such a granddaughter, she could not muster even a trace of temper. When she saw Lin Yining, Auntie Yao Yuyan smiled. She liked this niece. She found her pleasing to the eye. Lin Yining crouched down in front of Xuanxuan. “Hey, Xuanxuan, do you still remember me? I’m your sister Ningning.” The little girl broke into a wide smile and called out in her soft baby voice, “Jiejie!” That single word melted hearts. The child was just too cute, impossible to resist. “So good! Big sister bought some sponge cakes. Want to try some? They’re really tasty.” Lin Duzhong chimed in, “Yes, they’re quite good.” Yao Yuyan asked, “Xuanxuan, do you want some?” Xuanxuan was practically drooling. “Want!” Yao Yuyan prompted, “Then what should you say?” Without hesitation, Xuanxuan replied, “Thank you!” Yao Yuyan praised her, “So good!” Lin Yining: … This obedient, sweet little baby had maximum impact. She was completely struck down. Yao Yuyan invited Lin Yining to join them for a meal the next day. “An old classmate of mine opened a private kitchen restaurant. It’s opening tomorrow. Let’s go support her.” Lin Yining shook her head regretfully. “I can’t make it. I’m going fishing with Great-grandpa.” As for the matter of apprenticeship, it had not been finalized yet, so it was better not to mention it. That was also Lin Duzhong’s intention. “We already arranged to go fishing with a friend, even said I’d bring my great-granddaughter along for him to see. Next time, you can all go together.” Yao Yuyan sighed with a bit of regret. “Then next time. There’ll be plenty of chances.” Li Yujiao seized the opportunity to take her granddaughter into her arms. The child looked very much like Tiandong and would likely resemble her father even more as she grew. A daughter who resembled her father would surely be a beauty. Li Yujiao treated her granddaughter very well. Whenever her hands were free, she wanted to hold her. In stark contrast was her attitude toward the child’s mother. In front of others, she would not do anything excessive, but she was cold, distant, quietly oppressive. It was only because Yao Yuyan did not take it to heart that she managed, otherwise it would have been hard to endure. Lin Tiandong felt helpless about it, caught in the middle. He rarely let Li Yujiao and Yao Yuyan be alone together, afraid their relationship would worsen. He knew the fault lay with his mother, and he had spoken to her about it, but she would not change. As her son, what could he do? As for replacing his wife, Lin Tiandong had never considered it. When he first learned he had a daughter, he had not been without disappointment. Many people found it hard to let go of the importance placed on sons. But as his daughter grew, he found himself unable to take his eyes off her. She was his child too. When she cried, his heart ached; when she smiled, he could not help but smile as well. She was the treasure of his heart. When Xuanxuan was in her mother’s arms, her grandmother did not step forward. But when she was in her father’s arms, she was quickly taken away. Lin Yining silently felt a bit of sympathy for her uncle. Being caught in the middle was something only those who experienced it could understand. But there was no real solution, unless Li Yujiao changed her mindset. The next day, everyone set out separately. After breakfast, Lin Yining and Lin Duzhong took their gear and headed out. Lin Duzhong was in high spirits. “The place we’re going to this time took us a lot of effort to find. Hardly anyone fishes there. The fish aren’t afraid of people, and they’re big. Even if you don’t know how to fish, you’ll still catch something. Once we catch some, we’ll make fish soup together.” When they arrived, an elderly man was already there, sitting on a small stool, focused intently on the water. Lin Duzhong leaned over to look into his bucket. Seeing it empty, he silently broke into a grin, then quickly wiped it away. Shi Changtian was just as obsessed with fishing as he was, but he had one defining trait, he had terrible luck. Same spot, same bait, same gear, Lin Duzhong might catch three fish, while Shi Changtian would catch one, sometimes none at all. And this was not occasional. It was the norm. Even so, he never gave up, trying different equipment and bait, persisting all the same. That was true passion. Shi Changtian said, “You’re here.” Lin Duzhong snorted. “Here. And you came early again. That’s not fair. We agreed to start together, otherwise how can we compete?” “I didn’t come early,” Shi Changtian protested. “I only got here a little before you.” Lin Duzhong glanced at the indentation in the dirt beneath his stool and gave an “oh,” choosing not to expose him. “Forget fishing for now. Come, let me introduce you. This is my great-granddaughter. She just got into your university this year. Well? Isn’t my great-granddaughter lively and bright?” Shi Changtian glanced at Lin Yining and cleared his throat. “She looks like a good girl. You’re fortunate.” There was a hint of envy in his tone. When it came to children and grandchildren, he could not compare to Lin Duzhong. He used to be able to say he had many children, but now only one daughter remained alive. The third generation was also sparse, just one grandson and one granddaughter. That was all. Lin Yining smiled brightly. “Professor Shi, I…” While Lin Yining was striving to find a mentor, in the Special Economic Zone, Yu Xiang’an was also working on something of her own. Her space had upgraded again. This was good news. The first upgrade had added a pasture beside her farmland, allowing her to raise cattle and sheep, greatly easing the strain on meat supply. The second upgrade had added a processing workshop, a true cheat tool. Lin Chuanbai loved it, often using it for experiments. In reality, some experiments could take months or years. But in the workshop, nothing took more than twenty-four hours. Some experimental paths could be tested quickly, saving immense amounts of time and resources. Now, this was the third upgrade of her space. 🌱🌿 🫧🍃 TOC
Ch 115: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s After Ding Minxiu walked out of the police station, the sunlight outside felt like it belonged to another world. She was finally out. After fifteen days of detention, she had regained her freedom. She had made it out at last. Her face twitched as she tried to force a smile, but what appeared could hardly be called one. It drooped, closer to a cry. How had she been caught? The first two times, she had slipped away without a problem. She had been careful. Maybe she should not have gone a third time. The interval between attempts had been too short. They were on high alert now. If she had waited longer, they would not have been so tense or so attentive to movements at night. Ding Minxiu felt she had suffered a huge loss. Now look at this. She had been detained for so long, lost her job, did not know how she would find another one, and had even had to pay a fine. A total loss. Afraid of losing face, Zhou Changshou did not come to pick her up. The only one who came was Zhao Qiaoniang. Zhao Qiaoniang’s hair had turned almost completely white. There had once been strands of black left, but now they were nearly all gone. The bags under her eyes were deep and heavy, making her look more than five years older. Ding Minxiu stared for a moment, dazed. So she had aged this much already. Time had passed so quickly. Only after a moment did she come back to herself, her face stiffening. “What are you doing here? Come to laugh at me?” Her voice was sharp and piercing. Zhao Qiaoniang looked at her, tears streaming down her face. “Daughter, can we just go back and live our lives properly?” The words “live properly” stabbed deeply into Ding Minxiu. Live properly? How could she possibly live properly now? Her life was a complete mess. And whose fault was that? If others did not know, that was one thing. But if they found out she had been detained, they would definitely point fingers at her. How could she live properly like that? Once they were far from the police station, Ding Minxiu said, “Didn’t you go beg Yu Xiang’an? Over something so minor she still called the police! This world is so unfair!” Zhao Qiaoniang choked back her sobs. Ding Minxiu snapped, “You just watched me get taken in like that. Are you even my real mother?” Zhao Qiaoniang broke down crying. “If I’m not your real mother, what, am I your stepmother? You child, sometimes you make me so angry I feel like you’re my stepmother instead. I told you before not to go, but did you listen? Now something’s happened, and what do you want? To keep going? They’re fine, and you? You don’t care about your family or yourself anymore.” Ding Minxiu flared up. “How do I not care about my family? How do I not care about myself? I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do. My grandson is already several years old. How could I not care about my family? If not for them, why would I come out here to work? Wouldn’t it be easier to just lie around at home?” Zhao Qiaoniang felt a surge of regret. If she had known, she would have stopped her no matter what. “You need to think carefully about what you’re going to do next.” If only they could go back to the beginning. Zhao Qiaoniang drifted in her thoughts. Back to before her daughter and Zhou Boyang had gotten together. She would rather have let her be sent to the countryside. As for the future, Ding Minxiu herself felt lost. The future… what was she supposed to do? There was, of course, a reason she had suddenly done such things. Zhou Boyang had been laid off. The meat processing factory had shut down. Misfortune came one after another. Zhou Tianyou, because of his long-standing poor work habits, skipping work more often than not, had also been forced to take a buyout. Suddenly, the burden of supporting the family fell entirely onto Ding Minxiu. Originally, Zhou Boyang and Ding Minxiu had the highest incomes, followed by Zhou Changshou’s pension, and Zhao Qiaoniang and Zhou Tianyou’s basic wages. Now all of that was gone. Zhou Changshou and Zhao Qiaoniang were old, and no one wanted to hire them. If anything happened while working, it would be hard to sort out responsibility. Now, the only person in the household with an income was Ding Minxiu. Zhou Changshou’s pension was gone as well, replaced by a one-time payout. Hit hard by all this, Zhou Boyang shut himself in at home. Ding Minxiu’s son and daughter-in-law were at an age when they should have been working to support the family, yet they stayed home, constantly asking her for money. Ding Minxiu had tried to get them to come out and work with her, but they refused. Their excuses sounded reasonable enough: the daughter-in-law needed to take care of the grandson, and her son wanted to find another “iron rice bowl” job. But in the current situation, finding another iron rice bowl? Those were the very jobs disappearing the fastest. Private enterprises were better at least they paid wages on time each month. The pressure from her family situation had suffocated her. Then she heard that Yu Xiang’an’s life was flourishing more and more. In a moment of impulse, she did what she did. This time, when she was detained, aside from Zhao Qiaoniang, no one else showed up. She had lost her job too. She still had a bit of money on hand, but could she just sit there and spend it all away? After this incident, Ding Minxiu finally saw clearly what kind of person her precious son really was. Her heart turned cold. They knew she had been detained, yet not a single one of them came not even her son. Could she still rely on such a son to support her in old age? Ding Minxiu was utterly disheartened and said nothing more along the way. What was there to say? She had vented her anger. Now she had to think carefully about what to do next. About her future. After returning, Ding Minxiu looked at herself in the mirror and carefully tidied herself up. Her foundation was still there. She had no choice but to plan for her future. None of these family members could be relied upon. She could only rely on herself. She was not that old yet. Zhao Qiaoniang watched her quietly and let out a sigh of relief. She did not know why, but it seemed her daughter had come to terms with things. She went to see a doctor to adjust her health, went out to find work, and even dressed more presentably. Zhao Qiaoniang stayed in their rented place, helping manage daily life. When she had time, she would go out to collect recyclables to earn a bit of extra money. It might not be dignified work, but it brought in a decent income. That was enough for her. Zhao Qiaoniang was satisfied. Why should her daughter keep clashing with the Yu family? They had nothing to do with them anymore. It would be better to find a stable job and live a good life. But she never expected her daughter to tell her she was pregnant. Pregnant? What did that mean? She had not seen her son-in-law for such a long time. Whose child was this? At the thought, Zhao Qiaoniang’s vision went black, and she collapsed. When she woke again, looking at the dim light, she felt as though she had had a nightmare. But this was no dream. It was reality. Her daughter sat by the bed, her expression steady. “Mom, I didn’t lie to you. This child won’t carry the Zhou surname.” Zhao Qiaoniang felt the world spin again. But this time she was already lying down, and she had heard it once before. After taking several deep breaths, she grabbed Ding Minxiu’s hand, trembling. “You child, what foolish thing have you done? This child cannot be kept!” Ding Minxiu said, “Mom, can’t you see it clearly? My son is unreliable. If I depend on him, when I’m old, I’ll probably end up sleeping on the streets.” Her expression was complicated. “I have to think about my own future. Look at the Zhou family now. I can’t carry them anymore. The whole family is relying on the two of us to survive.” Zhao Qiaoniang fell silent. She opened her mouth but could not speak. Ding Minxiu seemed to know what she wanted to ask. “Mom, of course I love my son. Just pretend you don’t know about this. If anything comes up, help me deal with it. If they ask, just say I’m working here and can’t leave. As long as I send money back on time, they won’t know.” Zhao Qiaoniang was stunned. This was something she had thought through carefully. Why? Ding Minxiu said, “Mom, after this, I’ve finally understood. If I don’t plan for myself, who will? You? Mom, you do care about me, but can you give me a better life? No. Zhou Boyang can’t. My son can’t either. When I was detained this time, not one of them came to see me. Not even a phone call. Mom… my heart has truly gone cold.” As Ding Minxiu spoke, she turned her head away and quickly wiped at her tears. “Don’t try to stop me. If you do, you might as well be forcing me to die. At my age, it wasn’t easy to get pregnant. This child will be what I rely on for the rest of my life.” She took out a gold bracelet. There was nothing particularly intricate about it. It had only one defining feature: it was large. “The child’s father gave this to me. If I carry the baby to term, he’ll give me an apartment, and he’ll give me a sum of money.” Zhao Qiaoniang’s eyes widened. Ding Minxiu smiled, tears sliding down from the corners of her mouth. “He wants a child, so I’ll give him one. He may not care about me, but can he really ignore his own blood? For the rest of my life, I’ll rely on this child.” A different kind of light flared in her eyes. “Let’s pack our things now and move somewhere else. We won’t have to worry about living expenses, he’s already given me money. We’ll eat well, live well, and safely bring this child into the world…” * The weather had been nice lately, so the family decided to go hiking and enjoy the scenery, to give their eyes and minds a rest. They chose a nearby hill and set out early, leaving just as dawn was breaking to avoid the crowds. Still, they were not the first to arrive. Some people had come even earlier. They were there to relax, not to rush to the top, so they walked and chatted along the way. Whenever they saw something interesting, they would stop. Lin Yining had brought a camera and would take photos of anything that caught her eye. Because they moved at a leisurely pace, more and more people gradually caught up and passed them. Many were parents taking their children out for a weekend outing. The environment was indeed soothing. Not just the two children, even Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an began to relax. As they walked, the group naturally split into two, the two children in front, and the couple behind, walking hand in hand. The twins happened to glance back and saw their parents like that. “… ” That was a bit too much. Better keep hiking to work it off. By noon, the four of them finally reached the top at their unhurried pace. Yu Qingshan had no interest in hiking at all. In his words, he had seen enough of mountains already and had no desire to go out of his way for it. He would rather stay at home watching television or listening to storytelling. Since he did not want to come, he did not. Yu Xiang’an had prepared lunch in advance. Lin Chuanbai found a relatively flat spot, spread out a picnic blanket, and Lin Yihong took off his backpack and pulled out the drinks. Lin Chuanbai unpacked the rest of the food. Most of it was in his bag, though it was not heavy. They had divided the load between them, deliberately bringing things that were light and easy to carry, sandwiches, pan-fried dumplings, shumai, cakes, along with some vegetables and fruit to balance the richness. While they were eating, a familiar voice sounded nearby. “What a coincidence!” It was Lei Ming. Beside him were his wife and daughter. He had brought them here for a visit today. Lei Ming smiled, looking helpless but clearly full of indulgence. “My daughter insisted on coming up the mountain to see the flowers, so what could I do but bring her?” Yu Xiang’an said, “I brought the kids out too, to let them relax a bit.” Lei Ming thought for a moment, then looked at the tall, slender young pair. “They’re in their final year of high school, right?” Yu Xiang’an nodded. “That’s right.” Lei Ming said, “The college entrance exams are coming up soon. You can’t just study all the time. It’s good to relax once in a while.” Their relationship had grown quite good. They had frequent business dealings, and beyond business partners, they could also be called friends. Ever since the collapse of the Soviet Union last year, Lei Ming had felt even more fortunate that he had withdrawn early enough. Some matters were not meant for people like them to get involved in. Because he had stepped away in time, he had not been affected and could continue running his business smoothly. Back then, Yu Xiang’an had also advised him to withdraw early. In his view, that only showed how far-sighted she was. He cast a regretful glance at Lin Yihong and Lin Yining. The two of them were already grown young adults. He had married late and his daughter was still young. If she had been a bit older, he would have wanted to ask about forming a marriage connection. A mother-in-law like Yu Xiang’an was reliable. Yu Xiang’an said, “Have you had lunch? Want to join us for a bite?” Lei Ming waved his hand. “Thanks, but we’ve already made reservations. I won’t disturb you.” The amount of food this family had prepared was just enough for them. Adding three more people would not be enough. It was polite to ask, but he could not take it seriously. It was not as if they had planned for extra. Up on the mountain, you could buy water or snacks, but not a proper meal. He still needed to go back down. Lin Yihong watched the direction he left and remarked, “Uncle Lei is really tall and solid.” He squeezed his own arm. He was still growing. Would he also become that tall and strong when he was older? He quite liked that tower-like physique. Lin Chuanbai overheard him and looked at his tall, slender son. He took after him in build, though his face resembled his mother somewhat. With that face, he could easily debut as a celebrity, yet he wanted that kind of bulky build. Put together, it would look a bit… off. If the head stayed the same, paired with that kind of imposing physique, it would be slightly mismatched. Lin Yining said, “When we go down, should we take the left path or the right? The left route is longer, but it passes by a lake where we can go boating. The other side is just mountain paths and stairs. Which one do we pick?” Yu Xiang’an said, “Whichever you two want. Your dad and I are fine with either.” Today was about letting the two seniors relax. They should follow their own wishes. Lin Yining said, “Then let’s go by the lake. We can row a boat.” No one objected. They strolled leisurely to the lake and rented a boat. Lin Yihong and Lin Yining took the oars and rowed, while Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an simply sat and enjoyed the ride. The lake was not large. There were only four boats in total. There were no particular safety measures, no lifeguards stationed nearby. Visit HololoNovels .com to read more. Just an elderly man collecting fees. Even if he could swim, if something happened, he likely would not have the strength to help. Two of the four boats were in use. One was far away, and the other was not too far ahead of them. There were three people on it, one boy and two girls, about the same age as Lin Yihong and Lin Yining. Lin Chuanbai glanced over casually, then frowned and nudged Yu Xiang’an. “Doesn’t that group look a bit familiar?” Yu Xiang’an asked, “Which one do you mean?” “The one in blue.” Yu Xiang’an blinked. Her eyesight was sharp, and even at a distance she could see clearly. She narrowed her eyes, thinking. “I think they look familiar too. Where have we seen them?” Another acquaintance? Lin Yihong and Lin Yining looked over, but they did not recognize them. Yu Xiang’an suddenly remembered. “I know who that girl is. She’s Director Huang from the Health Bureau’s daughter. I think her name is Shanshan. The boy with his back to us should be her brother, Aimin.” Lin Chuanbai also recalled, “Then the other one should be their niece. I remember their family took in their younger brother’s daughter.” Yu Xiang’an nodded. Having recognized them, she did not intend to do anything about it. They continued leisurely enjoying the view of the lake. Lin Yihong was facing that direction while rowing. Right before his eyes, it seemed like an argument broke out. With a splash, the girl in blue fell into the water. A cry of alarm erupted from their boat. Huang Aimin immediately reached out with one hand to pull Huang Shanshan, gripping the edge of the boat tightly with the other. The boat rocked, and with another splash, he fell into the water as well. Right after that, Yu Xiang’an heard screaming. “Help!” “We can’t swim!” Lin Chuanbai immediately grabbed the oar from Lin Yihong’s hands and rowed the boat over, while Lin Yihong stood up at once, ready to jump in if needed. All four members of their family could swim. As the boat drew near, Yu Xiang’an called out from aboard, trying to calm the two children. “Someone’s here to save you, don’t panic. Once someone gets to you, just relax your body. Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine.” Some people became terrified when drowning, and if someone came to rescue them, they would cling desperately to that person, which could easily drag both of them under. Lin Chuanbai circled around behind Huang Aimin, while Lin Yihong went behind Huang Shanshan. Lin Yining stayed at the other end to keep the boat balanced, and Yu Xiang’an stretched out an oar for them to grab. One by one, they were pulled aboard. All three people in that boat were landlubbers. The only one who had not fallen in could do nothing but scream from inside the boat. Coming out rowing like this had really been dangerous. There were no towels or spare clothes on hand. Yu Xiang’an took out their picnic blanket, since Huang Shanshan’s wet clothes were now clinging tightly to her body. “Thank you.” Huang Shanshan had swallowed several mouthfuls of water and was so frightened her face was completely drained of color. There was nothing more to say. They immediately turned back toward shore. Yu Xiang’an asked, “How did you come here? By car?” Huang Aimin recovered the fastest. “We took a taxi.” Yu Xiang’an nodded. “In that case, the first thing you need is a place to change clothes. You’ll get sick easily like this. If you don’t mind, come to my car. I have some spare clothes there. The sizes won’t fit properly, but at least they won’t leave you soaked through. I know your father, Director Huang. My name is Yu Xiang’an. We met once at a wedding banquet in a hotel. You were standing behind your father then. I remembered you. You probably don’t remember me.” Huang Aimin truly did not remember her. Yu Xiang’an took out her brick phone. “I have a phone here. Why don’t you call home?” He froze for a moment, then accepted it. “Thank you, Auntie.” He called his father, confirmed that they did indeed know each other, and briefly explained the situation. Only after hearing his father tell him to go with them and change clothes did he agree, obediently following them down the mountain. Even though they changed early, Huang Shanshan still sneezed several times in a row. Yu Xiang’an said, “When you get home, remember to drink something warming.” By then, Huang Aimin had completely recovered himself. He thanked them solemnly. “Thank you, Uncle, Auntie. If it weren’t for you this time, I don’t know what would have happened to me and my sister.” Yu Xiang’an smiled. “It’s nothing. I’ll take you home. Your parents must be worried sick.” Yu Xiang’an had only one thought: thank goodness all of them could swim. If her two children had fallen into the water and could not swim, she would have been scared half to death. Director Huang really had been scared half to death. As soon as he got the call, he rushed home, and by the time Yu Xiang’an and the others arrived, he was already waiting at the door. His two children had fallen into the lake and neither of them could swim. If there had not happened to be another boat nearby with people who knew how to swim, who knew what might have happened. He only had these two children. Each one was precious to him. It was not convenient to say much right then. After getting the children out of the car and exchanging a few polite words, Yu Xiang’an’s family left. On the drive back, with only their own family in the car, Lin Yihong said, “Mom, before Huang Shanshan fell in, I think I saw her younger sister push her.” Yu Xiang’an fell silent for a moment. “Just pretend you didn’t see it. That’s their family matter. It’s not really for outsiders like us to interfere in.” Lin Yihong said, “I know. The two siblings each have their own mouths. They can speak for themselves.” There was no need for him to get involved. It was just… a little sobering. Lin Yining widened her eyes. “Brother, you mean her younger sister pushed her? On purpose?” Lin Yihong said, “Whether it was intentional or not is hard to say. But think about the consequences. Even if she didn’t mean it, she was far too impulsive. If something had really happened, even if she herself came out of it fine, she wouldn’t come out of it well.” After Director Huang had settled the children, he came the next day with gifts to express his thanks. He even specially had an honorary banner made and sent it to Lin Yihong’s class, making no effort to hide the matter. At once, everyone in the class learned that a little hero had emerged among them. That would be useful for the boy in the future. Then, after school, Director Huang booked a table nearby and invited their whole family to dinner. At the end of the meal, he casually brought something up. “These children, ah, it’s like I owed them in a previous life, so in this life they came to be my children and give me nothing but worry. You were close by. Did you happen to see how they fell into the water?” Lin Yihong shook his head. “We only looked over after hearing the splash. Did someone slip and fall in?” Director Huang said, “Most likely.” He laughed cheerfully. “Come, let Uncle offer you a toast. I’m truly grateful to you. This one drink can’t express much, but it shows my feelings. In the future, if there’s anything I can help with, as long as it doesn’t violate organizational discipline, I’ll help.” That was his way of putting the matter on the table in advance. This was such a large favor that he would certainly repay it, but not in any way that violated organizational discipline, and only where he was actually able to help. Yu Xiang’an raised her glass. “Director Huang, the way you say that, we’re all law-abiding good citizens. Of course we won’t violate organizational discipline. Director Huang, you’re welcome to supervise us. I’m not afraid of what others might say on that front. I do business with a clear conscience.” If someone in the food business had a bad relationship with the Health Bureau, that would be troublesome. If one day they said your sanitation was below standard, and the next day claimed some inspection had not been done properly, then you might as well stop opening your doors to customers. After this incident, Yu Xiang’an was not thinking of asking him for favoritism. She had always cared a great deal about this issue. As a chef, she disliked having a kitchen that was not clean or that failed hygiene standards. She did not need him to open back doors or turn a blind eye, but now that this favor existed, if someone got jealous and wanted to use procedures and formalities to make trouble for her, it would not be so easy. Petty functionaries could be the hardest to deal with. That was the principle. When they got home, Lin Yining asked Yu Xiang’an, “Mom, would people deliberately make trouble for our business?” Yu Xiang’an answered without hesitation, “Of course. It’s always been like that.” Lin Yining’s eyes widened. “What? It’s always been like that? Who dares bully you?” Yu Xiang’an said, “Back when I first went to the Special Economic Zone to open a restaurant, there were people who ate without paying, people who put cockroaches and flies in their food, and people who claimed they got food poisoning just to extort us. Things like that are unavoidable. People with real backing won’t come trouble me. Even if they don’t respect the monk, they’ll respect the Buddha. Your mother here has plenty of classmates of her own, and higher up than that, your grandfather and grandmother are both people of some standing. But a lot of people only stare at the little patch of ground in front of them. Visit HololoNovels .com to read more. They act impulsively, and whenever they see a business doing well, they start looking for crooked ways in. That kind of thing can never be completely prevented. Otherwise why do you think I asked your grandfather for retired soldiers to help me back then? I needed people to hold down the fort. If anyone came looking for trouble, one hand was enough to grab them and toss them right out into the street.” Lin Yihong and Lin Yining: “…” The two of them looked at their mother wordlessly. It felt like their mom had just said something pretty incredible with a smile on her face. 🌱🌿 🫧🍃 TOC
Ch 114: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai knew that this was a choice he had made after careful consideration, and they expressed their support. Times were different now. There were basically no large-scale wars anymore. Unless one was sent to the front lines for special missions, things were relatively safe. Because of his decision, Wu Zheng personally came over and carefully explained to Lin Yihong the pros and cons of various military academies, as well as the situation in different units, so he could make an informed choice. She had always been in the military, and no one understood it better than she did. Lin Houpu had once served in the military as well, but he had been out for many years, so some things he no longer understood as promptly or as comprehensively. Lin Yihong had already figured out the path he wanted to take in the future, and Lin Yining had more or less decided as well. The two of them felt no pressure. Their parents and elders had given them the confidence of freedom. They could do whatever they wanted without worries. With their parents around, there was no financial pressure at all. If they chose politics, they had their grandfather and eldest uncle; if they chose the military, their paternal grandmother was there, and their grandfather still had some remaining influence. Lin Yining had once thought about becoming a teacher. Why a teacher? Because of the winter and summer vacations. Although teaching required both mental and physical effort, and these students were the tender shoots of the nation, and a wrong kind of guidance could lead them astray, which worried her, she still felt it was worth trying. She did not want to be like her father, spending all day in a laboratory doing research. She admired people like that, but she did not like that kind of life. She wanted to be a teacher. She liked calligraphy and painting. Thinking long term, a teacher could transition into administration, even become a principal. A soldier who does not want to become a general is not a good soldier. Her sights could be set further ahead. For now, she was focusing mainly on calligraphy and painting. In that sense, she had made up her mind even earlier than Lin Yihong. When the college entrance exams came, she wanted to attend the best university in the country, then pursue graduate studies, remain at the university, and steadily work her way up. Things might change in the future, but for now, this was what she wanted. Lin Yining’s exact words were: “In the future, I’m going to become a cultured person. The characters I write and the paintings I make will be the kind that money can’t buy!” That was what she said, but she had never stopped taking martial arts classes. When danger came, nothing was more reliable than relying on oneself. If you could save yourself, there was no need to depend on others. That way, if a chance to escape appeared, you would not miss it. It could not be helped. They often spent time around a security company made up of veterans, listening to stories about people encountering danger. Naturally, they had to be mindful of their own safety. Given their parents’ circumstances, they fully met the conditions to become kidnapping targets. Among their close friends, most had already more or less determined their futures as well. Wang Lipan would most likely become Lin Yihong’s classmate. Chen Yi wanted to become a doctor. Zhuo Mingwei planned to go abroad for university after the college entrance exams. One by one, they strengthened their wings and spread them toward the future. Since the two children had entered their final year of high school, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai made an effort to come home more often. They stayed busy outside during the day, but in the evenings, after the children returned, at least one of them would be at home. The feeling of having parents at home versus not having them was completely different. The twins had a strong foundation and had always ranked at the top of their class, but even in their final year, they still had to work hard. There were many prodigies around. If they became careless, their grades would slip. Lin Yining wanted to get into the best university, so she could not slack off. Yu Qingshan, meanwhile, was practically living there. If the children’s parents were not around, their grandfather would definitely be. The concern they had not felt as strongly in childhood became fully apparent in their final year of high school, leaving the twins with complicated emotions. But seeing how much their family cared about them made their hearts ache a little, and it only strengthened their resolve not to fall behind. As long as they were willing to study, Yu Xiang’an would hire any renowned teacher for them. Occasionally, when Yu Mingyao came over and saw the two of them each receiving one-on-one tutoring, she could not help but shiver. If she had studied like this before, she might have gotten into a better school, but the pressure was immense. In the short term it was manageable, but over a long period, she felt she would not be able to endure it. Whenever Yu Xiang’an was around, she would stock the fridge with ingredients and prepare all kinds of delicious food for them, often adding some spirit spring water. Yu Xiang’an was skilled at cooking all kinds of dishes, and the twins had picked up some culinary skills themselves, standing out among their peers. Part of the reason they learned was to satisfy their own appetites, and another part was learning from Yu Xiang’an. When they were unhappy or stressed, they would go into the kitchen to vent. It did not happen often, but occasionally it did. For example, at this moment, Lin Yining grew frustrated with a problem she could not solve. She abruptly stood up, put down her pen, and hurried into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to see what was inside. There were tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, eggs, potatoes… and some fruit, along with two bags of bread. She took out the bread. A sandwich would do. She took a carrot, washed it, sliced it, then diced it. She diced some green pepper as well, and cut corn into kernels. On the flattened slices of bread, she first laid down a layer of ham and bacon, then spread the diced carrot, green pepper, and corn on top, leaving a space in the middle. After thinking for a moment, Lin Yining took some seaweed, crushed it, and sprinkled it over. Finally, she cracked an egg into the empty center, added some cheese, and carefully placed it into the oven. “Ding—” When the time was up, Lin Yining opened the oven, took it out, covered it with another slice of bread, and cut it diagonally in half. The sandwich was done. Looking at the sandwich, her mood improved quite a bit. She brought it outside. Lin Yihong was writing furiously. Seeing the sandwich, he grabbed it with his left hand and continued working while eating. Lin Yining focused on holding her sandwich with both hands. After finishing it, she went back to the kitchen, took out some fruit, and made watermelon juice. Each of them had a cup. By the time she finished drinking, her mood had completely calmed, and she picked up her pen again to tackle the problem. They had participated in some competitions and earned bonus points, but those were just icing on the cake. If their core performance was not strong, the extra points would not help much. In the end, one had to be solid on one’s own. When Yu Xiang’an returned with some beef, she peeked in and saw the siblings bent over their studies in the study room. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I bought some beef. How do you want it? Steak or hot pot?” Lin Yining said, “Steak.” Lin Yihong said, “Hot pot.” Yu Xiang’an made an OK gesture. “Then we’ll have both.” The beef came from her own space. She had deliberately raised high-quality cattle for her family to eat. When Lin Chuanbai returned and opened the door, he was greeted by the rich aroma of food. “What did you make today? It smells so good.” Lin Yihong was already on a break, sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper. “Steak and beef hot pot.” He folded the newspaper, set it aside, and headed to the kitchen. “Dad’s back. Time to eat.” At the dining table, everyone chatted as they ate. Lin Chuanbai asked Yu Xiang’an, “How’s the renovation going?” Yu Xiang’an had transformed the original factory. Back when she bought the land, it had been large and cheap, leaving plenty of room for expansion later. Now that the factory had been relocated to a more remote area, this prime piece of land would not be left unused. The area had already developed into a small hub, and using it as a factory would have been a waste. Yu Xiang’an had built a hotel, a large shopping center, a food street, a clothing market, and even a European-style garden town for photos, strolling, chatting, and dating. In a few years, when smartphones became widespread, this place would surely attract many visitors coming to take pictures. But that was something for the future. Right now, the first things to be launched were the hotel and the food hall. What was currently being renovated was the large shopping complex. After the hotel and food hall opened, the popularity of the place was enough to make people jealous. The shopping complex had not even finished reconstruction and renovation yet, and people were already coming on their own to ask about renting space. It was easy to foresee that once Yu Xiang’an got this whole series of projects up and running, it would become a true money-devouring beast. Yu Xiang’an said, “It’s pretty much done. There are still some small odds and ends left. In about ten more days, everything should be finished.” The twins had often gone to places like those large shopping centers. You could shop, stroll around, play games, do everything there. When Lin Yining wanted to go shopping, that was exactly the kind of place she liked to go. The more places there were, the more complete and concentrated in one area, the better. That way, there was no need to run all over the place. There was also a food hall like that here in Yangcheng. When Lin Yining wanted to eat something different on the weekend, she usually went there. There was a huge variety, enough for anyone to choose from, and the prices were affordable even for ordinary students. “When the renovation’s finished, I want to go take a look.” Lin Yining had seen the design plans and the model renderings. They looked quite nice, and she wanted to see the real thing. Yu Xiang’an said, “There’s still a bit of a difference between looking at a model and looking at the actual place.” Lin Yining asked, “Does it turn out better, or worse?” Yu Xiang’an said, “I think it’s all right. Your grandpa doesn’t like it, though.” Yu Qingshan shook his head. “I still think square, proper houses look the best.” The others: “…” Not surprising in the slightest. Suddenly remembering something, Yu Qingshan glanced at the twins but said nothing. Only after dinner, once they had rested a little and the two children had gone back into their room to study in earnest, did Yu Qingshan ask Yu Xiang’an, “That troublemaker from before, did you find out who it was? When you went back this time, did you uncover who did it? Which rotten bastard was behind it?” Because of the renovations, the area had been fenced off to keep children from wandering in, so ordinary people could not get inside. But somehow, someone had snuck in at night. When the workers arrived in the morning, they found several basins of dog’s blood splashed over the main entrance. It had taken quite a while to clean up. That incident put the workers on edge, and a few days later there was more trouble. Garbage had appeared inside, somehow brought in by who knew where, and the freshly painted walls had been covered with random graffiti. That had already happened twice. After hearing about it from the people below, Yu Xiang’an told them to keep a closer watch. Where there was a first time, there would be a second. Where there was a second, there would be a third. And sure enough, the third time came too. After silently suffering two losses, they caught the person red-handed. Yu Xiang’an said, “We caught her.” Yu Qingshan asked, “Who did it? Was it some competitor who had it in for us?” Yu Xiang’an sighed. “Not a competitor. It’s someone we all know.” At that, Yu Qingshan frowned. “Someone we all know? Who?” Yu Xiang’an said, “Ding Minxiu.” Yu Qingshan froze for a moment, then asked again, “Who did you just say?” Yu Xiang’an repeated herself. “I said Ding Minxiu. Yes, that Ding Minxiu, the one we know.” Lin Chuanbai frowned too. “What’s going on here?” He remembered that person. Only… it seemed like they had not had dealings with her for a very long time. So why would she suddenly do something like this? What was she after? Yu Xiang’an said, “When I got there, I didn’t know it was her at first.” Her face was full of speechless disbelief. At the time, she had not even recognized who the person was. Full translation available on HololoNovels dot com. It was only because Ding Minxiu called out first that she managed to connect this woman with the person in her memory. “I haven’t seen her in who knows how many years, and we’ve never had any contact at all. Then she pulls something like this, and I’m honestly baffled. What exactly is she trying to do? How did I offend her?” Yu Qingshan asked, “What did she say?” “She spouted a bunch of nonsense. Stuff about carrying out justice on heaven’s behalf, about the bright light of day, about ill-gotten wealth. The first time was splashing dog’s blood, the second time was throwing trash around and scribbling all over the walls. And do you know what she did the third time? She set up a fake person there to pretend it was haunted.” If word got out that the place was haunted, how many people would still dare come in the future? Yu Xiang’an said, “Before I went, I had no idea it was her, so I called the police right away. She only panicked when she saw the police. I didn’t listen to anything she had to say. I handled it exactly the way it should be handled. I didn’t want to waste time. She deserved a lesson. Otherwise, she’d keep showing up to cause trouble whenever she pleased, and that would waste even more time.” If work stopped for even one day, who knew how much labor and money would be lost? Now that they had caught her, things would proceed as they should. Settle it in private? She refused. Even if the punishment was not severe, it was still better than some weightless little apology. Yu Qingshan’s expression was so complicated it was hard to describe. He rubbed his stomach. If he had not just eaten his fill, hearing this now would have made him lose his appetite. How could this woman be so infuriating? “Serves her right. Let the police teach her how to behave. When you saw her this time, was she acting alone?” Yu Xiang’an said, “She was acting alone. Her mother probably didn’t know. After the police arrived, her mother came over too. I only heard about it afterward from other people. I didn’t see her.” Yu Xiang’an did not want to see Zhao Qiaoniang. She could easily imagine how Zhao Qiaoniang would beg her to let Ding Minxiu off. Why should she? They had stayed out of each other’s lives for so many years. Ding Minxiu came looking to stir up trouble for her, and now she was supposed to magnanimously let it go like some great statesman? Yu Xiang’an did not want to. She was not that generous, and she was certainly no saint. Not to mention their old grievances. Even if it had been a stranger, anyone doing something like this would have upset Yu Xiang’an. Yu Qingshan let out another long sigh. “What do you think is going on in her head? Some things should be done, and some things absolutely shouldn’t.” Lin Chuanbai said, “Who can know? Everyone thinks differently. Some people are just unreasonable like that. She has nothing to do with us, Dad, so don’t think too much about it.” Yu Xiang’an nodded as well. “Exactly, Dad. Look at how tightly your brows are knitted. We stopped having anything to do with them ages ago. And I still remember exactly what happened back then. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.” This was something she could never forget even if she wanted to. If not for Ding Minxiu and Zhou Boyang, the original owner would not have died of illness. Yu Qingshan nodded. “I understand that logically. It just doesn’t sit right in my heart. Do you know how they’re doing now?” Yu Xiang’an shook her head. “Not very well. The son Ding Minxiu gave birth to is a leech living off his parents. He talks a good game, but in reality he’s unwilling to do anything. Right now several of them are still working here to earn money and support the family.” Yu Qingshan knew a bit about this as well. Sometimes when he went back, people would tell him about the Zhou family, so he knew that the family had placed enormous importance on their only heir. Bit by bit, they had spoiled the child rotten, until he was unwilling to do anything. At a very young age he got married and had a child, then brought his little family along to live off the older generation at home. Sometimes Yu Qingshan wondered if this was retribution. Back then, for the sake of Zhou Tianyou, that unborn child, the Zhou family had chosen to stand on Zhou Boyang and Ding Minxiu’s side. Then after the child was born, they doted on him so much that they turned him into this. Was that love? That was ruining a child. They would grow old. They would die. Once they were gone, how was Zhou Tianyou supposed to make a living? An iron rice bowl was not necessarily iron forever. Yu Qingshan had seen too many people forced into layoffs and early retirement. No one could say what the future would bring. In contrast to the Zhou family, his daughter had weathered that period when everyone pointed fingers at her, then met the man who was now her husband. This son-in-law was so much more outstanding than Zhou Boyang it was not even a comparison. The young couple lived in harmony, and before long they had twins, a son and a daughter, both blessed children. In the blink of an eye, his grandchildren were already about to take the college entrance exams. More than ten years had passed. So why was the other side still unable to let go? Splashing dog’s blood, throwing trash, scribbling all over the walls, pretending the place was haunted, all of it had been aimed at making trouble for his younger daughter. Why cause trouble? Yu Qingshan thought about it. One possibility was that Ding Minxiu herself was not doing well, and seeing his daughter living a good life made her feel unbalanced, even envious, so she wanted to stir something up. But what was the point? They had long since become two parallel lines. Yu Xiang’an looked at Yu Qingshan’s expression. “Dad, if I had known you cared this much, I wouldn’t have told you. Look at how unhappy you are.” Only then did Yu Qingshan relax a little. “I’m just sighing over how things and people have changed. I’m fine.” When people grew old, it became easier to think back on the past. Before his daughter had come to tell him that Zhou Boyang and Ding Minxiu had gotten involved and that Ding Minxiu was already pregnant, what had he been worrying about back then? He had been worrying that Ding Minxiu was about to be sent down to the countryside, and he needed to find someone to help assign her somewhere closer. He had been preparing for a marriage alliance with the Zhou family, getting a dowry ready for his younger daughter. At the same time, his own father had fallen seriously ill, draining the family’s savings. He did not have much money left, and he also could not neglect his second son and fourth daughter back in the countryside… There had been many problems, but at that time, his heart had still felt at ease. Yu Xiang’an also remembered those days. When she had first arrived here, she had discovered what the original owner had gone through and had been facing the prospect of being sent to the countryside, possibly to some remote, miserable corner. She knew her own limits. Life in the countryside did not suit her at all. She did not know how to farm, and she had been very uneasy. Then she met Yu Qingshan, this father of hers. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, and with him there, many things did not require her to worry. At that time, her heart had settled a great deal. Yu Xiang’an pressed on, “Then let me tell you something happy. Yuhong is pregnant. You’re going to have a great-grandchild. Are you happy?” Yu Mingjie and Meng Yuhong had been married for several years without children, and now she was finally pregnant. Yu Qingshan perked up immediately. “Really?” Yu Xiang’an replied firmly, “Really.” “They went to the hospital for a checkup, and it just so happened that I have a friend there. He told me quietly. They’ll probably come tell you the good news tomorrow. I’m just letting you know in advance.” Yu Qingshan was truly delighted. After all, his eldest grandson and his wife had not been able to have children before, and they themselves had been anxious, even worrying that something was wrong with their health, going to the hospital and taking medicine. Now she was finally pregnant. Pregnant was good. Pregnant was good. Whether it was a boy or a girl, it would be his good child. … Li Yujiao was feeling somewhat anxious, because Lin Houpu was about to retire. Given his age, he had been able to give her son Tiandong some support, but some of that support had also shifted toward Lin Guangbai. Lin Guangbai held the highest rank, had the deepest experience, and had achievements to his name. With these added resources, his path became even smoother, like adding wings to a tiger. But Tiandong was different. His experience was still relatively shallow. With Lin Houpu as his backing, he had not encountered malicious situations like being undermined or having credit stolen, but he still had to climb step by step. Asking Lin Houpu to pull strings and promote him ahead of schedule was out of the question. Lin Houpu had his own personal feelings, but not to the extent that he would do such things. Tiandong could only advance slowly, one step at a time. If there were time, that would be fine. But compared to Lin Guangbai, what Tiandong lacked most was time. Before he could fully grow, his father was already nearing retirement. This was the disadvantage of being younger. There was nothing to be done. And on top of that, after finally marrying a wife, she gave birth to a daughter. To Li Yujiao, her son had no son to carry on the family line. Both husband and wife held formal jobs, so they could not risk violating policy by having another child. If they did, they would lose their jobs. No son, only a daughter. How could that be acceptable? After her granddaughter was born, Li Yujiao began to feel dissatisfied with the daughter-in-law she had once approved of. She had thought about secretly having another child, but she had lived through the era of informants. Full translation available on HololoNovels dot com. Some things simply could not be done. Once reported, it would be certain trouble. Pregnancy and childbirth took such a long time. How could it possibly be hidden? She wanted a reason that others could not criticize. There was only one legal way to have a second child: if the first one was gone. But she could not bring herself to harm her granddaughter. Even though she wanted a grandson, she still wanted her granddaughter as well. Nor could she simply have another child, because her daughter-in-law already had an IUD and did not want another child, believing that one daughter was enough. With no other options, she began to scheme about getting them to divorce. How could she make them separate? In the end, she came up with a plan. If the couple split, her son could remarry a new bride, and then they would be able to have another child. It was a vicious idea, and Li Yujiao told no one, carrying it out quietly on her own. After much deliberation, and in order not to affect her son’s future, Li Yujiao decided she would become a cruel mother-in-law, making life difficult for her daughter-in-law. Once the young woman could no longer endure it, she would ask for a divorce. The idea was beautiful. Reality was harsh. This daughter-in-law was someone she had once been satisfied with. Her family background was not bad either. She was the daughter of Lin Houpu’s old comrade. Both she and her husband had jobs in another city, so they were not living together with Li Yujiao. They only saw each other a few times a month. How much trouble could she really cause? The daughter-in-law could simply endure those few days and be done with it. Having them move closer was also not an option. Li Yujiao needed to stay by Lin Houpu’s side. If she were not there and Lin Houpu were persuaded by his sons from his previous marriage, while she remained unaware, she would be placed in a very passive position. If she ended up losing the greater benefit while chasing something small, she would regret it for the rest of her life. 🌱🌿 🫧🍃 Previous TOC
Ch 133 (Extra 15): Reborn to Raise My Husband Zhao Guangzong & Jiang Tangtuan (III) Upon hearing of Zhao Guangzong, Old Master Jiang indeed summoned him for a meeting. “I’ve long heard that this year’s selected officials have been decided, yet I’ve not had the chance to meet you.” Seeing Zhao Guangzong—tall, upright, and well-composed—Old Master Jiang was somewhat surprised. Ordinarily, those who chose to take the official appointment path were either in their forties or fifties, having failed the metropolitan examination multiple times before settling for such a position. Yet Zhao Guangzong was only just of age and had only taken the examination once before choosing this path. It was rather unusual. Judging from the fact that he had made it to the level of juren on his first attempt, his learning was clearly not lacking. To give up further prospects early and enter official service—it was rare. And he was also quite handsome. Old Master Jiang, who had thoughts of selecting a son-in-law, could not help but ask a few more questions upon seeing such a young man of good character and appearance. After exchanging a few formal words, he spoke to Zhao Guangzong in the manner of an elder, asking whether he had married. Zhao Guangzong felt that Old Master Jiang was very approachable and became even more respectful. “This junior is dull and unworthy. I can only handle one matter at a time. I have been occupied with study and examinations and have not had the ability to give attention to other matters. Now that I am no longer young, my marriage is still unsettled.” Old Master Jiang laughed. “Though people say one should marry and then establish a career, I think it is steadier to establish oneself first and marry afterward.” “With your talents and appearance, now that you are settled, you will surely find someone considerate to care for you.” After a few more words, Old Master Jiang left to attend to other guests. Zhao Guangzong let out a breath. He had not expected that simply attending a banquet would earn him such favor from Old Master Jiang, who had called him over for a lengthy conversation. Before long, the bride arrived, the ceremony was observed, and the banquet began. Zhao Guangzong sat according to his assigned place and ate. The dishes were excellent, but his mind was on Jiang Tangtuan. He barely ate a few bites, though he did drink several cups of wine. Throughout the banquet, their gazes met quietly several times, yet he found no opportunity to speak with him again. In such a setting, if they spoke repeatedly, it would inevitably draw attention and gossip. Jiang Tangtuan was from a scholarly family. If his reputation were harmed, it would bring shame to the entire household. Zhao Guangzong understood this well. Even though his heart was entirely drawn toward him, he restrained himself from approaching. As the banquet began to wind down, a young attendant called out to him, saying he would escort him out. Zhao Guangzong remembered that Tangtuan had said he would have someone see him off. “Did the dishes at the banquet suit your taste, langjun?” Holding a lantern, the attendant led Zhao Guangzong along a quieter path. “The cuisine of Jinling is excellent—both abundant and refined.” The attendant spoke modestly of the hospitality and expressed relief that Zhao Guangzong found it satisfactory. After a few casual exchanges, the attendant glanced ahead at a figure and said, “Langjun, do you recognize the person ahead?” Zhao Guangzong looked and saw it was the juren who had spoken with Tangtuan earlier that day. He was puzzled by the question. “Jiang juren?” “Indeed. He is one of the master’s students and often visits the residence.” The attendant smiled. “Jiang juren treats our gongzi well—every few days he brings food and little trinkets.” Zhao Guangzong’s brows tightened slightly. Seeing this, the attendant continued, “Now that the young master’s marriage is settled, the master and madam have one less concern. But they dote on our gongzi and are still worried about his future.” No matter how slow Zhao Guangzong might be, he understood the implication. If that were the case, did it not mean Old Master Jiang favored Jiang Lingyun as a prospective son-in-law? Earlier, seeing Jiang Lingyun’s attentiveness toward Tangtuan, Zhao Guangzong had felt a trace of discomfort. But upon realizing that Jiang Lingyun already had someone in his heart, he had not thought further. Now, hearing this, Zhao Guangzong’s thoughts fell into chaos, his expression changing. The attendant, having said enough, did not continue further. “Safe travels, Zhao langjun.” When Zhao Guangzong reached the gate, he cupped his hands in thanks. “Thank you for seeing me off.” After the attendant left, Zhao Guangzong boarded his carriage, his brows still tightly furrowed. “Has he gone?” Back in the courtyard, Jiang Tangtuan was sitting before the dressing table, loosening his hair. Seeing the attendant return, he asked. “Zhao langjun has already returned.” “Did you say what I asked you to tell him?” The attendant replied, “I followed gongzi’s instructions exactly.” Jiang Tangtuan set down the white jade hairpin in his hand and let out a light breath. He did not know whether that fool would understand what he meant. Now that he knew Zhao Guangzong’s feelings, he could more or less guess why he had not revealed them earlier. He had long heard from Bao ge’er that Zhao Guangzong’s family background was not high. Translated on Hololo novels. After failing the metropolitan examination, bound by concerns over status, he must have buried those feelings deep in his heart. He had not expected that Zhao Guangzong would later take up an official post and come to Jinling, allowing them to meet again. Fearing there would be no future chance, he had finally spoken his heart. Yet from what Tangtuan could see, Zhao Guangzong had only expressed his feelings, without any intention of taking things further. After all, the difference in status was there. His elder brother had become a jinshi, and the Jiang family’s prospects were only growing brighter. But Zhao Guangzong did not know of the complications surrounding marriage arrangements in the capital—his family had already changed their thinking and now wished to find him a more ordinary match. Tangtuan thought to himself that the student his father favored was not much higher in standing than Zhao Guangzong. So he had deliberately passed this information along, hoping Zhao Guangzong would understand that, in his case, his family did not place importance on status. The message had been delivered. Whether Zhao Guangzong would take the initiative or let things end here—that would be for him to decide. In truth, if he spoke to his family himself, his father and mother might very well agree. But he did not want to throw himself forward entirely. It could not be that Zhao Guangzong merely spoke his feelings once and did nothing more, while he went eagerly to seek marriage. Though he reasoned this way, he could not help but ask the attendant, “What expression did he have when he heard it?” The attendant said, “When Zhao langjun heard that Jiang juren was the one favored by the master, his expression changed immediately.” “He furrowed his brows and looked full of thoughts when he left. I’m afraid he won’t sleep well tonight.” Hearing this, Tangtuan pressed his lips together, thinking it served him right. But then he remembered that Zhao Guangzong would return to Feng County the next day, and a faint sense of loss rose within him. Indeed, just as the attendant had said, Zhao Guangzong did not sleep at all that night after returning to the inn. It was not simply jealousy over Jiang Lingyun—he felt that the situation was more complicated than that. For a scholar’s family to favor a student and wish to betroth their child to him was nothing unusual. But to intend to marry Tangtuan to Jiang Lingyun, who already had someone in his heart, did not make sense. Either Old Master Jiang valued Jiang Lingyun so highly that even knowing this, he still wanted him as a son-in-law. Yet after meeting Old Master Jiang, Zhao Guangzong felt he was not such a rigid man who would force apart a pair of lovers. Or else, the Jiang family did not know that Jiang Lingyun already had someone and that he was concealing it to climb higher. At present, Zhao Guangzong could not make a judgment based on speculation alone. But one thing was certain—no matter the reason, it was not good for Tangtuan. Even if he could not marry Tangtuan, he could not stand by and watch him be entrusted to the wrong person. Before returning to Feng County, Zhao Guangzong quickly made arrangements, finding someone reliable to investigate Jiang Lingyun’s background. With enough silver spent, the information came back quickly. Jiang Lingyun was indeed a juren. In a large city like Jinling, the number of young scholars with that status was still limited. The information reported that Jiang Lingyun lived in a small residence on the outskirts of Jinling. His family was simple—his parents and younger siblings. They had moved to Jinling only four years ago. There was no visible business in the family; they seemed to rely on farmland back in the countryside. Jiang Lingyun was of upright appearance and unmarried. He studied diligently and did not frequent entertainment houses. Even teahouses and restaurants rarely saw him. It was said he was a student of Lord Jiang. By the time Zhao Guangzong received this information, he had already returned to Feng County. Looking over the report, he could not draw any clear conclusions. Instead, it only made Jiang Lingyun seem like a decent young man. And that cousin of his did not appear openly in the picture. To uncover the truth, he would likely need to investigate Jiang Lingyun’s original place of registration. But that would not be easy. If Zhao Guangzong had been serving in Jinling, it would have been simpler. Or if Jiang Lingyun were from Feng County, it would also have been easier. Unfortunately, after checking all the records of scholars in the county, there was no one named Jiang Lingyun. With no other option, Zhao Guangzong sent a letter to Jiang Tangtuan. When the attendant delivered the letter, Tangtuan had been quite pleased at first. He thought Zhao Guangzong had finally remembered to write to him. But upon reading it, there were no gentle or affectionate words—only questions about Jiang Lingyun. Annoyed, Tangtuan tossed the letter aside. Only the next day did he write a reply. When Zhao Guangzong opened it, there was only a single line: “Qutang County, Hanshan Village.” He stared at it in disbelief, flipping the paper over twice. There was indeed only that one sheet, with only those few words. “If someone writes you a letter with only a few words, asking nothing about your well-being and saying nothing of their own—what do you think that means?” Zhao Guangzong asked one of his attendants. “What else could it be? That person must be angry.” Zhao Guangzong’s brows tightened. He realized how foolish he had been. He immediately wrote another letter to apologize. This time, he also sent a box of food and a box of small amusements as a gesture of apology. While trying to placate Tangtuan, Zhao Guangzong also wasted no time sending someone to investigate the address in the letter. Qutang County was not far from Feng County, but it was even smaller—so small it did not even have an assistant magistrate. Looking at the map, Hanshan Village was the most remote village in Qutang County. In such a poor and remote place, the appearance of a juren was notable. With a little inquiry, Jiang Lingyun’s name quickly surfaced. In a small place like that, when someone succeeded, the whole village took pride in it. Those questioned all spoke of how diligently Jiang Lingyun studied and how modest and hardworking he was. Zhao Guangzong himself had come from a village—how could he not understand how things worked there? In a village, people would not easily speak ill of someone who had gone out from their own place—unless that person was truly wicked beyond redemption. The man Zhao Guangzong had sent to investigate posed as a traveling peddler and stayed there for a time before finally uncovering what he needed to know. Jiang Lingyun had originally come from a poor family. Translated on Hololo novels. His household had not been able to support his studies, and it was only through the support of his mother’s family that he was able to continue his education. His cousin on his mother’s side, surnamed Liu, had grown up with him since childhood. The Liu family had funded his studies, and in gratitude, the Jiang family had promised that he would one day marry that cousin. Later, Jiang Lingyun passed the county examination and became a xiucai. In order to continue studying, he moved to Jinling. He was genuinely devoted to his cousin. Fearing that the Liu family would feel uneasy after his departure, he entrusted all the property he had been rewarded with to their care. He was indeed capable. Studying diligently in Jinling, he went on to pass the provincial examination and became a juren, even gaining the favor of Old Master Jiang. By that point, the Jiang and Liu families had already begun preparing to discuss the marriage. But then Old Master Jiang hinted that he intended to take Jiang Lingyun as a son-in-law. Jiang Lingyun informed his family, saying that he had no interest in marrying into a prominent household and that his heart belonged only to Cousin Liu. The marriage between the two families should proceed as planned. Yet when the families discussed it, they decided to delay the marriage. Their reasoning was that Jiang Lingyun came from a remote village. Without someone to support him, his future would not go far. Knowing his character, they believed he would not betray his cousin. For the sake of his future, it would not matter if she suffered a little grievance. Jiang Lingyun was deeply moved and promised that once matters with the Jiang family were settled, even if he could not give his cousin proper status, he would never give his heart to another. He even placed his most important assets in her hands as proof of sincerity. Reading this, Zhao Guangzong let out a cold laugh. What a pair of ill-fated lovers. If others heard this, they might be moved by Jiang Lingyun’s supposed devotion and resent the Jiang family for using their power to separate them. But Zhao Guangzong immediately saw that Jiang Lingyun was not an upright man. He had written to Tangtuan before, asking whether Jiang Lingyun had any prior engagement or someone outside. Tangtuan had been annoyed and said how could the Jiang family be the kind to seize someone else’s intended husband. Yet Jiang Lingyun had already promised to marry Cousin Liu. Whether out of gratitude or genuine affection, when he received Old Master Jiang’s favor, he should have immediately stated that he was already engaged. Instead, he did not refuse at once. He reported the matter to his family. If his resolve had truly been firm, he could have handled it himself. Why involve his family at all? It was nothing more than this—having come to Jinling and seen its splendor, and with Old Master Jiang’s favor, he developed ambitions to climb higher. But he could not abandon the Liu family, nor was he willing to give up the opportunity of gaining such a powerful father-in-law. So he deliberately told his family, letting them scheme on his behalf. In this way, concealing the connection with the Liu family became the decision of his elders. Translated on Hololo novels. He himself could claim reluctance, unable to defy them, yet still appear upright and honorable. Even if the Jiang family heard that Jiang Lingyun had no engagement and felt uncertain enough to investigate, with both families concealing the truth, nothing would be uncovered. And even if they discovered the existence of Cousin Liu, as long as the Liu family denied any formal engagement, there would be no proof. What a meticulous scheme! Zhao Guangzong was furious, already thinking of how to inform the Jiang family. At that moment, however, the magistrate assigned him an official matter requiring him to go to Jinling. Though the timing seemed almost too convenient, he still set off to carry out the task. “You write letters to him like this—do you even know what kind of person he is? If he were not upright and used these letters against you, would you still care about your reputation?” Madam Jiang looked coldly at the thick stack of letters on the table and could not help but scold the ge’er sitting there with lips pressed tight. Yet seeing him sit there dejectedly, she could not bring herself to be too harsh. “Since you’ve developed feelings, why didn’t you tell your mother earlier?” Jiang Tangtuan looked away, thinking that there must truly be someone in his courtyard reporting to his mother. Once he found out who, he would certainly dock that person’s monthly allowance. After being questioned for quite some time, he finally said, “He is not that kind of person. And there is nothing improper written in the letters.” Before, he had been annoyed that Zhao Guangzong’s letters contained only proper matters, without a single gentle or affectionate word—nothing like how he spoke in person. Now he suddenly understood—he had avoided writing such things so as not to leave any evidence behind. Though Jiang Tangtuan looked miserable under his mother’s questioning, like a wilted plant, his heart felt sweet, thinking that Zhao Guangzong had been considering him. “You’ve only met a few people—what do you know of such matters?” After speaking for a long time and seeing that every word out of Tangtuan’s mouth was in Zhao Guangzong’s defense, Madam Jiang could not help but sigh, thinking her foolish child had already fallen too deeply. “I’ve already asked your father.” At this, Tangtuan’s eyes flickered, and he quickly asked, “What did Father say?” Madam Jiang took a sip of tea before answering, “Now you’re anxious. Did you listen to a single word I said earlier?” Tangtuan pressed his lips together, looking at her expectantly. “Your father said he met him at your brother’s wedding. At first impression, he seemed a refined and gentle young man. He also looked into his official appointment and past writings—his learning is indeed quite good.” Hearing this, Tangtuan’s lips curved slightly. “But—” Tangtuan immediately became alert again, looking straight at his mother. “He is not young anymore—already past twenty. With his looks and talent, at his age, it is unusual that he has not yet married.” Tangtuan said softly, “Perhaps he simply hadn’t met the right person before.” “You even speak in his defense.” Madam Jiang shook her head helplessly. Then she added, “Your father already intended to find you a suitable match from below. If he has no faults, and you have such thoughts… it would not be a bad marriage.” “However, let me say this first—he still needs to be investigated. Your father has already summoned him to Jinling under the pretext of official business, and a letter has also been sent to your brother in the capital. During this time, you are not to communicate with him.” Hearing this, Jiang Tangtuan’s face flushed slightly. “I understand.” A few days later, Zhao Guangzong arrived in Jinling. He went to the government office to handle his duties and happened to run into Old Master Jiang. Translated on Hololo novels. After exchanging a few words, he was unexpectedly invited to visit the residence. Zhao Guangzong felt both surprised and honored. He returned to tidy himself properly, then brought a gift and went to the Jiang residence. “The first time I met you, I already felt an affinity. Last time, when you came to the wedding banquet, there were too many people, and I did not have the chance to speak with you properly.” Old Master Jiang received guests in the main hall, saying he had invited him to drink tea and appreciate calligraphy and paintings. He led Zhao Guangzong through the collection, examining books and paintings for quite some time. Zhao Guangzong responded carefully. Appreciating such works with an elder like this was not something one could simply dismiss with a casual word of praise. One had to explain what was good about them, what was subtle and refined—it was essentially an examination of one’s learning. Jiang Tangtuan could not openly go to meet Zhao Guangzong, so he hid in a side room, secretly watching him being tested. Seeing him rack his brains and answer cautiously, he could not help but smile. After spending a long while viewing the works, Old Master Jiang let out a hearty laugh, clearly pleased. When they had finished and sat down for tea, Zhao Guangzong finally let out a quiet breath of relief. Old Master Jiang was evidently satisfied with Zhao Guangzong’s knowledge and manner. As they drank tea, he asked, “Last time I heard you were not yet married. Now that you are serving in Feng County, do you have any thoughts of settling down in Jinling?” Since he was serving in Feng County, why ask about settling in Jinling? The meaning beneath the words was clear to anyone attentive. Zhao Guangzong’s expression tightened. It was not that he failed to understand—rather, he understood immediately, and that was why he was momentarily stunned. He had planned to resolve Jiang Lingyun’s matter first before formally seeking a match through proper channels. Translated on Hololo novels. He had never expected Old Master Jiang to raise the question first. How could he have imagined that one day he would catch Old Master Jiang’s eye? It was truly unexpected. In the side room, Jiang Tangtuan pressed his lips together. Seeing Zhao Guangzong hesitate without answering for some time, his heart began to pound. What was this fool thinking? Could it be that he was unwilling? “If one finds the right person, it does not matter where one settles. What matters is finding someone who does not mind my age.” Old Master Jiang stroked his beard and laughed. “Marrying a little later is no issue. As long as one is upright and devoted to family, a good match can always be found. Since you are now working in Jinling, you should come by more often.” Hearing Zhao Guangzong’s reply, Tangtuan finally let out a quiet breath of relief and slipped away from the side room. Zhao Guangzong did not stay for a meal. As noon approached, he politely took his leave. His heart was already filled with joy, and as he walked out, his steps felt light, as though he might float. Though he had not seen Jiang Tangtuan this time, he did not feel much disappointment—only a small regret that he could not share this good news with him immediately. As he passed through the garden, he heard a soft cough. Looking up, he caught sight of a figure standing within the small courtyard beyond a moon gate. It was early winter. The midday sun fell thinly across the ground. The person in the garden wore a goose-yellow cloak trimmed with white fur, looking warm and soft. Zhao Guangzong stopped in his tracks. Their eyes met. They gazed at each other silently, saying nothing, yet both found themselves smiling. “Lord Zhao, this way.” Zhao Guangzong cast one lingering glance before finally stepping away. Jiang Tangtuan had deliberately waited along Zhao Guangzong’s path. Though they only exchanged a glance and did not speak, his heart was nonetheless filled with quiet happiness. Two days later, Old Master Jiang received a reply from Jiang Tangyuan in the capital. He and Madam Jiang read the letter together. After finishing, he could not help but laugh. “That boy—he’s come up with quite the scheme.” Madam Jiang also smiled, full of approval. “Though it’s a bit of a trick, it’s still a good one. We’ll do as he suggests.” Other promises were easy to make, but a vow like this—for a man—was not something one could agree to lightly. ˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆。 ˚ TOC
Ch 168: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II As Lu Yao and her group had just left, the door to the fifteenth-floor office swung open, and a team of rescue workers rushed in. The lead rescuer scanned the room and frowned. “Why are there only the four of you?” Videos of Harold and Qiuyu rescuing people had gone viral online, and those at the scene had also witnessed the events firsthand. Pei Qi, now wearing his bracelet, stood up. “They’ve gone to the sixty-sixth floor.” “The sixty-sixth floor? Who are they, and what are they after?” Pei Qi glanced sideways out the window. “Who knows.” Another rescuer, helping the two other employees to their feet, said, “They probably won’t get in, right? After all, it’s the sixty-sixth floor.” … Tech Tower, Outside the Sixty-Sixth Floor Harold crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t the security supposed to be top-notch? I was almost looking forward to it.” The sixty-sixth floor, rumored to have the most advanced security system in Mingshi City, was strangely unprotected. The balcony had no bulletproof glass, the edges were pristine without signs of damage, and the interior was brightly lit, almost as if welcoming visitors. Qiuyu muttered, “A trap.” Harold added, “So, is what you’re looking for really here?” Lu Yao nodded. “Ninety-nine point nine percent sure. If it’s not, I’ll be in trouble.” Harold pressed further. “And what exactly is it?” Lu Yao hesitated. “Hard to describe. If I had to explain, you could consider it a predecessor to Alfred.” “…Another dragon?” Harold asked. Lu Yao shook her head. “I’ve never seen it myself, but probably not.” Qiuyu landed lightly on the balcony. “Should we go in?” Lu Yao put away her flying tool and jumped onto the balcony. “I’ll lead.” The balcony led to a wall with a single door at its center. The frame of the door glowed with piercing silver light, making it impossible to see what lay beyond. Lu Yao stepped in first, with Harold and Qiuyu close behind. Inside, they found themselves in a hemispherical chamber. The walls and even the domed ceiling were lined with countless silver-white screens, each embedded like framed paintings, displaying diverse and seemingly unrelated content. Some screens showed scenes from the real world, others from virtual realms, and many displayed colorful, unrecognizable interfaces running obscure programs. Lu Yao took in the sight. “So this is Polaris, the all-knowing, all-powerful entity.” “You’ve finally arrived,” a magnetic voice echoed from all directions. “Welcome, dear Miss Lu Yao.” Lu Yao tilted her head. “And you are?” The voice replied, “Didn’t you come here to meet me?” Lu Yao raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, the person I wanted to meet sounded much younger. Could it be that a few months apart was enough for them to grow up and hit puberty?” “…” After a brief silence, the voice continued, “Miss Lu Yao is not only intelligent but also has quite the sense of humor. I’ve longed to meet you in person, and the wait was worth it.” Lu Yao was unimpressed. “Why do you want to meet me? We’ve never met before, as far as I recall.” “My apologies for the delayed introduction. I am Polaris. Perhaps you remember the adorable black goatling you encountered in Ghost Street?” Lu Yao’s toes curled slightly. The voice had the unmistakable synthetic tone of AI but with an odd, affected manner that mimicked the demeanor of a successful young professional. Polaris continued, “From that moment on, I knew I had to meet you.” “And why is that?” Lu Yao asked, her tone even. Polaris hesitated theatrically before responding, “Well… this might sound forward, but I think I’ve fallen for you.” Lu Yao: “…That’s indeed presumptuous.” Harold took a step forward. “Can I punch this guy?” Qiuyu rubbed her arms vigorously, as if shaking off goosebumps. “What a pretentious act.” Lu Yao: “Calm down. You two start looking around. It should be in one of these screens. Don’t overthink it—if it sees you, it’ll probably react.” Polaris suddenly changed its tone, adopting a clear, youthful voice. “You don’t trust me?” Lu Yao slowly walked forward, her eyes scanning the myriad screens around her. Somewhere among them, the system she was searching for might be hidden. Seeing this room had triggered a flood of thoughts in her mind. What kind of entity would call itself an all-knowing god? The sixty-sixth floor’s room contained thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of screens monitoring everything in Mingshi City—both the real world and all its virtual realms. Given what she knew from Ghost Street, a being capable of calling itself all-knowing could effortlessly trap countless human consciousnesses within a game. It was entirely possible that the Dream Fulfillment System had been isolated and confined to another virtual world. This realization made things simultaneously simpler and more complicated. The simplicity lay in their clear goal—locating the Dream Fulfillment System. The complication came from the sheer number of screens in this room, including the potential for hidden ones, and the constant threat posed by this enigmatic super AI. Polaris: “Just a little farther, and you’ll find my collection room. It holds some rather interesting items. If you find something you like, I’d be happy to gift it to you.” Lu Yao: “A collection room?” Suddenly, the wall before her dissolved like a digital curtain being lifted, vanishing bit by bit from the bottom up to reveal a vast, expansive space. Inside were rows of dark, spadewood-colored shelves lined with narrow, transparent glass bottles. These bottles contained plants, insects, seawater, and various miniature animals. Lu Yao stopped by the third row near the wall, her gaze fixed on a particular bottle in the corner. The room’s glass bottles were all of uniform size, resembling those typically used for cough syrup. But the one that caught her attention housed a chubby calico cat, its patterns and features nearly identical to Erxin, albeit shrunken to an impossibly small size. The miniature calico appeared to possess awareness, constantly bouncing and pawing at the inside of the glass in Lu Yao’s direction, its tiny pink paws scrabbling at the walls. Lu Yao extended her hand toward the little cat. The calico leapt excitedly, its round head nearly touching the bottle’s cap. But before Lu Yao could reach it, another hand darted out and grabbed the bottle first. Lu Yao turned around. Standing there was a silver-haired, red-eyed youth wearing a single gold-rimmed monocle. He smiled gently at her. “Do you like this little one?” Lu Yao stepped back cautiously, a faint frown on her face. “…Polaris?” The smile on the youth’s face deepened. “Your expression is fascinating.” Lu Yao composed herself. Logically, the distress signal from the Dream Fulfillment System had been an accident, and her decision to open a store in Ghost Street was a spontaneous one. He shouldn’t be here. Polaris lifted the bottle in his hand. “This little one has a particularly stubborn temperament and keeps trying to escape. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I moved it to my collection room. If you like it, consider it a gift for our first meeting.” Lu Yao: “Is that so? You certainly have a gentleman’s demeanor.” Inside the bottle, the miniature Erxin furiously shook its tiny head. Polaris handed the glass bottle to Lu Yao. Lu Yao took it and immediately removed the cap, tilting the bottle so the chubby little calico tumbled into her palm. The next moment, an indignant voice rang out in her mind: “You’re so stupid, so stupid, so stupid! Why did you accept his invitation?” Lu Yao gleefully poked the little cat’s fluffy belly with her finger. “Tongtong, it really is you! I recognized you right away!” The Dream Fulfillment System, now in its cat form, reluctantly hugged her fingertip. Unable to control itself, it lowered its head and lightly licked her with its pink tongue before growling through clenched teeth: “Thank you for joining me in this prison!” The sight of the cat-like manifestation of the Dream Fulfillment System instantly reminded Lu Yao of the tiny people and animals on the Nitean Continent. She curled her fingers around it, enchanted by the soft, furry texture in her palm. Suddenly, the layout of the collection room began to change dramatically. The ceiling rose infinitely high, arching into a grand dome. The display shelves slid sideways to press flush against the walls, which were soon concealed by heavy red curtains that dropped abruptly from above. The once-simple floor transformed into an intricate pattern of ornate designs, and columns carved with exquisite detail sprung up from the ground. Golden tassels cascaded from the ceiling, while a luxurious red carpet unfurled ahead, stretching into the distance. In the blink of an eye, the strange, unassuming collection room had transformed into a magnificent palace—far more efficient than Cinderella’s fairy godmother could ever dream of. The youth who had stood by Lu Yao moments ago now wore an impossibly opulent white uniform, adorned with a golden cape. A gemstone-encrusted crown rested on his head as he sat regally upon a grand throne. “Dear Miss Lu Yao,” he intoned with a stately smile, “welcome to my world.” 🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️ TOC Next
Ch 167: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II “…You seem a little disappointed,” the driver remarked. Lu Yao: “How did they end up on the rooftop?” Driver: “With over 100,000 people demanding justice, the company can’t possibly afford the compensation. Death might actually be easier for them.” The road ahead became increasingly congested, packed with crowds, making it impossible for the car to proceed further. Lu Yao, Harold, and Qiuyu got out mid-way and spent over half an hour struggling through the throngs before finally reaching the base of the Technology Building. Lu Yao tilted her head back to gaze upward. The towering structure had at least seventy floors; from the top, the people below must look smaller than ants. Harold: “There are four people up there, standing on the railing.” Qiuyu: “If they really fall, those rescue measures below won’t be enough to save them.” Below the building, rescue workers and security personnel dressed in bright blue uniforms tried to disperse the crowd while setting up inflatable air mattresses on the ground for rescue attempts. The crowd, however, chanted incessantly, “Jump! Jump! Jump!” Most of them had floating screens in front of their eyes, live-streaming the pale, panicked faces of the four men at the edge of the railing. Behind them, several rescue personnel worked frantically to talk them down, their tense postures mirroring the gravity of the situation. Standing among the masses, Lu Yao could feel an overwhelming wave of madness she could not suppress. If someone fell, they would be nothing more than a droplet in the ocean, stirring no real change. The tragedy of Ghost Street would not end there. Amid the group of four on the rooftop, Lu Yao recognized a familiar face—Pei Qi. A former employee of her store, he had promised to come find her someday. Now, his despondent eyes were filled with exhaustion and despair as he stood precariously on the edge. Lu Yao turned to Harold and Qiuyu: “I’ll head upstairs. You two stay here and act if the situation changes.” To prevent the increasingly agitated crowd from storming the building, professional security forces had sealed off the main entrance, leaving Lu Yao trapped amidst the throng. On the rooftop, Pei Qi, He Baiheng, and two other maintenance employees stood on the brink of the railing, their ears filled with the crowd’s furious chanting: Jump! Jump! Jump! He Baiheng clenched his fists tightly against his trousers, his face a picture of anguish, conflict, and confusion. Pei Qi, not far from him, was visibly struggling. Having just been discharged from the hospital, his body was still weak, and sweat poured down his paper-white face. As dusk settled, a cool breeze brushed past, bringing a fleeting sense of tranquility. Pei Qi squinted as a faint illusion played in his mind: the sound of doves flapping their wings, as though they were flying toward him. He began to lean forward. The rescue worker behind him reacted immediately, sprinting toward him in alarm. Meanwhile, He Baiheng, pale as a sheet, felt something light push him from behind. The next moment, his ears were filled with the rushing sound of wind. He fell like a heavy stone, plummeting toward the ground. Crash! The sound was reminiscent of a summer evening, the fizzy gurgling of soda being poured into a glass. “Harold—Qiuyu!” Lu Yao knelt at the shattered edge of a floor-to-ceiling window on the 15th floor, gripping her Nine Treasures Staff with both hands. The wand’s handle hooked onto the back of Pei Qi’s suit collar as she struggled to haul him up. Having wasted too much time outside, Lu Yao had finally resorted to certain measures to sneak into the Technology Building. However, she hadn’t anticipated that the internal security systems would be far stricter than the external ones, requiring facial recognition, fingerprint verification, and iris scans just to access the elevators. With no other options, she had taken the stairs, all the while using her Ghost Bracelet to contact Ren You, asking him to update her on the situation outside. Mingshi City’s residents were following the unfolding events in real-time through livestreams. When Lu Yao heard someone falling, she had just reached the 15th floor. She used magic to shatter the bulletproof glass on the building’s exterior. Time was extremely tight. Her body reacted faster than her mind—seeing someone plummeting, she instinctively extended her magic wand. Originally intending to draw a magic array, the wand unexpectedly hooked onto Pei Qi. This was arguably worse than missing entirely. With her hands occupied, Lu Yao couldn’t use her abilities, and at only fifteen floors above ground, she wasn’t confident she could complete the array in time. Fortunately, she kept her composure. Kneeling on the ground, she carefully dragged him back onto the balcony. When Pei Qi opened his eyes, his legs were still dangling outside the balcony. Squinting weakly, he recognized Lu Yao. His face showed panic as if his throat was blocked with a nest of ants—itchy and dry, yet unable to make a sound. He lay on the floor, breathing heavily, his limbs limp, and drenched in cold sweat. Lu Yao dragged Pei Qi to a safer spot inside before rising and stepping to the broken window. She glanced downward at the enormous bubble-like netting catching the falling glass shards, gently sinking toward the ground. The soapy bubble structure resembled the protective net outside the Childhood Tutoring Center’s entrance. It would only burst upon landing, ensuring no innocent bystanders were harmed by falling shards. A gust of wind blew upward, and a pair of massive wings blotted out the night and city lights, casting a shadow over the scene. Harold’s leather jacket glinted under the lights as he descended, carrying two men. He retracted his wings and leapt onto the balcony, casually placing the two terrified men beside Pei Qi before turning to Lu Yao. “This one’s not on me,” he remarked dryly. “You’re the one being over-the-top.” Lu Yao sighed. “Where’s Qiuyu?” “Right here,” came a calm reply. A soft click of high heels echoed on the floor as Qiuyu emerged, holding a lanky man in her arms. Her black dress billowed dramatically in the night wind. Standing firm, Qiuyu gracefully retracted her wings before kneeling to place He Baiheng beside Pei Qi. She looked up at Lu Yao. “It’s chaotic down there. What’s the next move?” The sudden turn of events, the massive crowd, and cameras everywhere complicated the situation. As Harold and Qiuyu discussed creating a concealment barrier, they’d heard Lu Yao’s shout and looked up to see someone falling. Instinctively, they had acted. To dragons, humans were fragile creatures. Catching them before they hit the ground was paramount. Both young dragons heeded Lu Yao’s warning not to fully reveal their dragon forms, only unfurling their wings. Even so, the sight caused a significant stir. Lu Yao’s Ghost Bracelet beeped incessantly, flooding with messages. Ren You: Boss, you guys are over the top!!! Cai Yuxing: Find cover immediately! The internet’s full of videos, and both your brother and the tall lady’s faces are all over the place! … Lu Yao tapped open the video Ren You had sent. Not only had Harold and Qiuyu been caught on camera, but she herself had been filmed on the 15th floor. Some were already speculating online if she was the DIY Workshop owner. Turning off the message notifications, Lu Yao looked down at Pei Qi. “I didn’t think you’d be so weak.” Pei Qi propped himself up on the floor and slowly sat up, his voice hoarse. “No, that’s not it. I never intended for this to happen.” Lu Yao frowned slightly. Pei Qi, sitting with his legs bent, pressed his trembling right hand with his left, forcing himself to speak calmly. “It seems… he has come here.” Beside him, two maintenance employees huddled on the floor, crying and trembling, utterly shaken. He Baiheng, in slightly better condition, gingerly sat up. He stole a cautious glance at Qiuyu, standing by Lu Yao’s side, before his gaze shifted to Lu Yao. His face turned pale. For someone who had never entered Ghost Street, it would have been difficult to recognize Lu Yao by appearance alone. But He Baiheng had stared at the game interface for days, and the short-haired girl with the gold earring in her left ear, combined with the recent events and her casual tone, immediately reminded him of the character from the game. Lu Yao glanced at He Baiheng, then squatted down to speak to Pei Qi. “What do you mean?” Pei Qi wearily rubbed his temples. “I’ve already convinced the core development team to take full responsibility for this incident. We’re prepared to cover all the losses and make compensations. But this afternoon, protesters suddenly appeared outside the company building, and the online discourse spiraled out of control. I was in the office discussing matters with my staff when my mind suddenly went blank. By the time I came to, I was already standing on the rooftop.” He Baiheng snapped out of his daze. “The same thing happened to me. Starting this afternoon, my head felt foggy, and when I regained clarity, I was on the rooftop.” Lu Yao tilted her head slightly, looking between Pei Qi and He Baiheng for a few seconds before raising her hand to point at her ear. “Do you both always wear this?” Pei Qi touched the communications device in his ear. “It’s just more convenient this way.” Lu Yao couldn’t help but shake her head. “You’re too careless. Have you ever considered how people ended up in Ghost Street? It wasn’t just young people—even someone like Grandma Xu, an elderly woman, wound up there.” Pei Qi stared at her with wide eyes, a look of innocent bewilderment. Lu Yao leaned closer and reached out to remove Pei Qi’s communications device. His expression immediately changed. Lowering his head, he seemed to process something for a few seconds. When he looked up again, his gaze on Lu Yao was strange. “How did you get here?” Qiuyu mimicked Lu Yao’s actions, swiftly plucking He Baiheng’s device from his ear. Meanwhile, Harold, looking annoyed, crouched down and removed the devices from the two employees still crying and clutching their heads. Suddenly, the world became eerily silent. Pei Qi stared at Lu Yao for a while, then suddenly leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. Lu Yao looked puzzled. “What are you doing?” The skin beneath his palm was soft and slightly cool, but after a few seconds, it began to warm. Pei Qi murmured, “…Not a robot after all.” Lu Yao sighed. “You sound kind of disappointed.” Pei Qi seemed about to say more, but Harold interrupted, “Someone’s coming.” The fifteenth-floor office was currently unused and unoccupied. However, the rescue teams from both above and below, having snapped out of their confusion, were now hurrying to the 15th floor. Lu Yao turned toward the broken window. “Which floor is the mainframe on?” Pei Qi hesitated for a moment before answering, “The sixty-sixth floor. But you won’t get in. This isn’t Ghost Street. Things won’t be as straightforward as initiating a logout program.” The sixty-sixth floor housed the most advanced security system in Mingshi City. It wasn’t something that could be bypassed with brute force alone. The night wind poured through the shattered window as Lu Yao walked to the edge. She turned back and waved at Pei Qi. “Stop wearing that communications device if you don’t need to. If things go well, I’ll come back for you. Oh, and I brought your bracelet.” The silver bracelet traced a faint arc of light in the night as Pei Qi caught it. Looking up toward the window, he realized the three of them had already vanished. He Baiheng gazed out the window. “What are they going to Polaris for?” 🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️ TOC
Ch 166: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II Lu Yao walked over to the group. Out of the eight, seven were in wheelchairs, creating a scene that was both somewhat comical and a little pitiful. She took out a small medicine bottle from her Ghost Bracelet. “I’ve recently made a batch of medicine to help restore your health. If you don’t mind, please take one pill. You should feel the effects by tomorrow.” The group exchanged uncertain glances, their thoughts a chaotic mess. Lu Yao and Harold’s miraculous appearance had completely upended their perception of reality. This wasn’t Ghost Street; this was Mingshi City. They could no longer convince themselves that the shopkeeper’s unusual abilities were simply part of a game’s settings or linked to It. Cai Yuxing hesitantly raised her hand. “Shopkeeper, are you really not a robot?” Lu Yao tilted her head. “Why do you ask?” Liu Jing interjected, “…You seriously don’t have any idea why we’d think that?” Lu Yao walked over to Cai Yuxing and Liu Jing, leaned down, and gently patted their shoulders. “I can assure you, I’m not a robot.” Suddenly, Jiang Lin raised his hand. “I’ll take one pill.” The others stared at him in shock. Lu Yao handed each person a pill. “If you’re hesitant, you can store it in your Ghost Bracelet for now. Harold and I plan to explore the area a bit, so we won’t bother you further. Thank you again for your help today. If anything comes up, feel free to contact me through the bracelet.” Before leaving, Lu Yao returned the Ghost Bracelets to Jiang Lin, Ji Linkai, and Liu Jing. After Lu Yao and Harold left, the group fell into a brief silence. A few minutes later, Xing Yong turned to Jiang Lin. “Are you really going to take that medicine?” Jiang Lin shook his head. “I want to have it analyzed first.” Ren You clapped his hands in sudden realization. “Smart. You’re thinking ahead.” Liu Jing couldn’t hold back her curiosity. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the shopkeeper?” Jiang Lin shook his head again. “I’m just curious. To be honest, even if there were something unusual about her, what could we possibly do to stop her?” That thought hung in the air, and they all recalled the door that had materialized out of thin air, along with the shopkeeper’s inexplicable arrival. They truly had no means to resist her. Out of nowhere, Ren You blurted, “So… the shopkeeper is actually an alien, right?” The group went silent. … Green Forest Rehabilitation Center was thirty-five stories high. Lu Yao and Harold took the elevator down from the rooftop. Lu Yao was dressed casually in black trousers and a red-and-white plaid shirt, blending in easily. Harold, however, stood out far too much. As they exited the elevator, Lu Yao led Harold outside. “Since we’re in a big city, let’s get you some proper clothes first.” Harold glanced at her. “Do we have money in this world?” Lu Yao shook her head. “No, but I brought some gold, gemstones, and two boxes of pearls. If there’s a bank or jewelry store nearby, we’ll have money soon enough.” Although Mingshi City’s technology was advanced, gold, pearls, and other precious metals and natural gemstones still held value. Lu Yao had researched this beforehand. Her main goal in coming to Mingshi City was to track down the Dream Fulfillment System, so she had no intention of wasting time on trivialities. Preparing resources in advance was part of her plan. Shopping for clothes was simply another way to familiarize herself with the city. Hearing about clothes shopping, the small black dragon coiled around Lu Yao’s wrist as a bracelet flicked the tip of its tail. “I want new clothes too.” Harold crossed his arms. “If we’re getting clothes for you, we’ll have to go to the kids’ section. Such a hassle.” Qiuyu scoffed, “Who wants to wear kids’ clothes? I’m going with Lu Yao to buy proper outfits, and you’d better behave and call me ‘big sister’ later.” Harold snorted. “Big sister? All I see is a thousand-year-old granny.” … While Harold and Qiuyu bickered, Lu Yao tilted her head, observing the surroundings. Towering skyscrapers lined the horizon, residential buildings were mostly deep gray, hospitals gleamed in white, rehabilitation centers stood out in green, and other infrastructure had distinctive colors representing their functions. From afar, without even approaching, one could easily identify a building’s purpose by its color coding. The streets of Mingshi City were the polar opposite of Ghost Street. Everything was meticulously orderly—so much so that it bordered on being dull. Because Qiuyu was making a fuss about coming out, Lu Yao and Harold stopped in a discreet corner nearby. Harold set up an invisible barrier, and Lu Yao gently placed the black bracelet from her wrist onto the ground. Minutes later, Qiuyu, now in her human form, emerged from behind them. Qiuyu was half a head taller than Lu Yao but slightly shorter than Harold. Her phoenix-shaped eyes lifted at the corners, and her fine features included a delicate nose and thin lips. Her long hair cascaded down her back, partially gathered into a bun secured with a jade dragon hairpin. Though her attire was simple, her commanding presence was undeniable. This was Qiuyu’s true form. Having been trapped in an egg for over a thousand years, she had emerged as a demon upon hatching. At the café, while Xiong An’an liked to play up his cuteness in his beast form, Qiuyu often enjoyed taking on the guise of a little girl, playfully mingling with the others. Lu Yao, standing between the two of them, glanced at Harold, who wore a sulking expression, and then at Qiuyu, whose aura had shifted dramatically with her transformation. She let out a soft sigh. “The contrast in styles is really jarring. Let’s exchange some money first.” Qiuyu hooked an arm around Lu Yao’s shoulder and pointed at a girl across the street. “Lu Yao, I want to try curls like hers.” Lu Yao looked at the girl and imagined Qiuyu with dramatic waves. She nodded enthusiastically. “As you wish.” After leaving the rehabilitation center area, the number of pedestrians on the streets began to thin. There were plenty of shops on either side of the road, but they were mostly empty, with few staff and numerous self-service stores. Lu Yao circled the area twice before entering a self-service gold jewelry store. The jewelry was displayed openly on the counters without glass cases, allowing customers to try them on freely. Near the entrance stood an automated payment machine where customers could scan a barcode to pay, as easily as buying groceries. Next to the payment machine was a device for recycling gold. The machine automatically weighed the gold, tested its purity, and provided a quote. The currency in Mingshi City was called Moon Coins. Lu Yao quickly calculated the gold exchange rate: 10 Moon Coins roughly equaled 1 yuan. That day’s gold price was 4,800 Moon Coins per gram. Unsure of the local cost of living and wary of running out of money while traveling, Lu Yao decided to exchange 1,000 grams of gold. Since all three of them were unregistered individuals with no linked accounts, they had to request a cash transaction. However, the automated machine didn’t have enough cash, prompting a message to wait for manual processing. After a 20-minute wait, two staff members arrived with briefcases, and the transaction took another 20 minutes to complete. The exchange yielded 4.8 million Moon Coins. After deducting various baffling fees, they walked away with over 4.6 million. Lu Yao handed Harold and Qiuyu each 500,000 Moon Coins as pocket money, storing the rest in her portable warehouse. Both Harold and Qiuyu had spatial pouches, making it easy to carry the cash. While exchanging the gold, Lu Yao casually chatted with the staff. She learned that with the rapid advancement of network technology and AI, the market had phased out a lot of inefficient manual labor, favoring highly efficient automated systems. Most storefronts were equipped with robust security protocols and constant monitoring by Polaris, making street crimes exceedingly rare. Residents of Mingshi City had long adapted to this streamlined way of life. Nowadays, only fields like medicine, computing, scientific research, and a few specialized sectors retained substantial human labor. Most retail and entertainment industries had fully transitioned to unmanned operations. Afterward, Lu Yao took Harold and Qiuyu to a nearby mall. The massive shopping center had only a few scattered stock clerks, who paid no attention to the rare customers, focusing instead on organizing inventory. On the first floor, a small hair salon caught Qiuyu’s eye, and she stopped in her tracks. The shop was empty except for the owner, who was dozing in a chair. Lu Yao knocked on the door, startling the hair salon owner awake. He quickly got up to greet them. Qiuyu stayed in the salon for her hair appointment, while Lu Yao and Harold wandered through a men’s clothing store on the second floor. When the two returned to the salon, Lu Yao was still dressed in her casual outfit from earlier. Harold, however, had ditched his formal black robe for light-colored jeans, a plaid shirt, and a black leather jacket. Around his neck hung a black necklace with a pendant—a miniature version of the Regulation Rod. Before coming to Mingshi City, Lu Yao had crafted two identical necklaces with similar functionality. Both Harold and Qiuyu had one. The Regulation Rod necklaces acted as a partial embodiment of divine power and also provided a bilingual translation function. This was why Harold and Qiuyu encountered no language barriers in Mingshi City. The salon owner’s eyes lit up when he saw Harold. “Handsome guy, how about a new hairstyle?” Harold scowled impatiently. “No. Just hurry up and finish her hair.” The owner wasn’t deterred. “Trust me, handsome. Let me give you a short cut—step outside, and you’ll look like you’re ready for a debut.” Harold snapped, “I said no. Quit nagging!” The owner chuckled despite the rebuff and continued his sales pitch with enthusiasm. Seeing that Harold was on the verge of losing his temper, Lu Yao sent him to the food stall across the street to buy snacks. Once Harold left, the owner turned to chat with Lu Yao. “There’s not much good food around here; it’s a waste of money.” Lu Yao replied, “The rent for this area must be pretty high, right?” The owner caught her meaning and grinned. “It’s all just pre-made meals anyway. They taste the same no matter where you go. But opening up shop here brings more foot traffic, so it’s still worth it.” Food stalls required live staff, making them a bit livelier compared to other fully automated stores. However, Lu Yao hadn’t expected the food to consist entirely of pre-packaged meals. Judging from the owner’s tone, this seemed to be the norm in Mingshi City. When Harold returned with the food, Qiuyu’s hair had already been styled. He handed the plastic bag to Lu Yao with a frown. “It tastes awful.” Lu Yao tried a pork-filled dumpling. Her expression shifted subtly. The dumpling, slightly smaller than a baby’s fist, looked enticing with its thin, glossy skin, golden-brown fried bottom, and a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. It smelled pleasantly meaty, but the taste and texture were oddly disappointing—not terrible, but far from good. Golden chicken strips, donuts, hot dogs… Lu Yao sampled each item. Every one hovered in that strange liminal space between palatable and unappetizing. The salon owner noticed they weren’t familiar with the area and eagerly recommended a few slightly better dining options nearby. As they prepared to leave the salon, the owner was still rambling, attempting to convince Harold to get a haircut. Harold, exasperated, grabbed Lu Yao and briskly led her out. The two accompanied Qiuyu to the women’s clothing section on the third floor. Qiuyu purchased a stunning black dress, along with new shoes and a matching bag. As they exited the mall, Lu Yao glanced at the time. “It’s getting late. Time to handle the main task.” After wandering the mall, Lu Yao had pinpointed their next destination: the Technology Building. This world is called Mingshi City, which is divided into countless districts. At the very center of the city lies the Technology Building, the singular structure of its kind. It’s not just a geographical landmark but also the cradle of Mingshi City’s cutting-edge advancements, including holographic technology and Polaris. If they took the fastest hover train, Lu Yao and her companions would still be three hours away from the central district. Purchasing tickets was simple, requiring no identification. They bought their tickets discreetly at the station’s automated vending machine to avoid drawing attention. On the train, the scenery outside the window blurred as it sped by. Harold and Qiuyu leaned against the window, watching the view for a while before reclining back in their seats. Qiuyu: “It looks like a dead city.” Harold: “The food is bad, too.” Lu Yao: “There’s no life here.” Bored, Lu Yao pulled a deck of cards from her pocket and began passing the time. By the time the train arrived at the station, a pile of gold coins and gems sat in front of Lu Yao, the spoils of thoroughly defeating the two dragons. Leaving the train station, Lu Yao hailed a taxi. As they got in, the driver gave them a long look. “You’re heading to the Technology Building for the protest too?” Lu Yao shook her head. “Just meeting a friend.” The driver said, “That place is packed today. If it’s not urgent, I’d suggest going another day.” Lu Yao asked, “What’s going on there?” The driver replied, “You haven’t been online? It’s that same issue again. The recently awakened net blindness patients are protesting at the Technology Building, demanding the creators of Ghost Street take responsibility. It’s gotten pretty intense, and there are live streams of the latest developments. I just saw an update earlier—the Ghost Street development team and maintenance staff have been forced up to the rooftop.” 🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️ TOC
Ch 165: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II Lu Yao wanted to travel to Mingshi City, and the best way to achieve this was by leveraging Harold’s unique ability. The issue was that Harold required specific spacetime coordinates to travel to a particular world. Previously, Lu Yao would arrive in another world first, carrying dragon scales imbued with Harold’s aura. Harold would then sense her presence and traverse spacetime to find her. This method, however, was neither efficient nor precise, as locating Lu Yao among countless possible timelines often required significant time and effort. When Lu Yao was managing the Childhood Tutoring Center, she successfully created a Spacetime key with Alfred’s help. This greatly improved Harold’s accuracy in traveling to designated worlds. The Key also allowed for more discrete actions by opening portals to specific spacetime points, eliminating the need for Harold to tear through the fabric of space with every traversal. The current problem was that there were no spacetime coordinates in Mingshi City for Harold to lock onto. The five players who had returned to Mingshi City only possessed Ghost Bracelets that Lu Yao could sense, but those bracelets alone couldn’t provide Harold the coordinates he needed. Moreover, once the storage rings and Ghost Bracelets left Ghost Street, Lu Yao could no longer use the system to deliver physical tools and items to players. In the real world, the bracelets retained only their communication and storage functions. Lu Yao needed to serve as Harold’s guide and accompany him in crossing spacetime. However, Harold’s inherited ability to traverse spacetime did not allow him to transport living beings with him. Years ago, Harold’s mother had crossed countless timelines alone in search of a way to change Harold’s fate. If she had been able to take Harold’s father with her, the outcome might have been entirely different. Lu Yao’s portable warehouse, having undergone multiple upgrades, could temporarily store living beings. She had used it to transfer staff between shops successfully. However, as the warehouse’s owner, Lu Yao herself could not be stored inside. Another option was the Qiankun Bag from the Floating Continent, which could also store living creatures. After consulting with her staff, Lu Yao decided to test this method. She made a special trip to Jiujue Sect, where a master craftsman agreed to forge a custom Qiankun Bag for her. Three days later, Lu Yao received the artifact-level tool delivered by the sect—a Sky-Swallowing Sea-Holding Bag. Since establishing the internet café’s reputation in the Floating Continent, every so often, its patrons sparked new trends in the Six Realms. Recently, a retro, overly dramatic naming style had taken the realms by storm, with customers enthusiastically naming their magical artifacts, spirit pets, and combat techniques with grandiose titles. Lu Yao later heard that her custom Qiankun Bag had been completed in just a day and a half, but the craftsman spent another day and a half racking his brain to name it, which delayed its delivery. Once she received the bag, Lu Yao went to the nail salon to meet Harold. Dragon Valley had just started its vacation period two days prior, so both Harold and Tina were at the salon. The non-human staff were also present and were all curious about the Qiankun Bag. The golden, drawstring-style Qiankun Bag passed from hand to hand, with everyone sharing their opinions. Though it could hold living creatures, Harold hesitated to use it to carry Lu Yao across spacetime without further testing. For their first experiment, they decided to transport a butterfly from Emerald Town in Alexander’s Continent to the pet cafe in Eden Sea. At dusk, after the salon closed for the day, a glass jar containing a butterfly was placed on the tea table in the main hall. The non-human staff gathered around with their phones, watching attentively. Lu Yao carefully placed the butterfly into the Qiankun Bag, and Harold carried the bag through a spacetime portal. A minute later, a video appeared in the shop’s employee group chat. The seals in the pet cafe were thrilled as Harold opened the Qiankun Bag, releasing the deep blue butterfly. The seals’ already large, round eyes bulged like lightbulbs as they patted their bellies in excitement. [Little Pet Cafe Leilei: Butterfly, butterfly!] [Little Pet Cafe Jiu Hua: Ahhhh! Deep Sea Butterfly!] [Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su: There are even two guests dining here who were stunned when they saw the butterfly!] [Lu Yao: Harold, remember to catch the butterfly back.] [Little Pet Cafe Piaopiao: Lu Yao, Lu Yao, I like this butterfly.] [Lu Yao: Hmm… Do you want to keep it? Butterflies don’t live very long, you know.] [Little Pet Cafe Leilei: what if we keep it in the Fishing room.] The Fishing room includes the surrounding sea, but it’s enclosed by an invisible barrier. Since the butterfly wouldn’t be able to leave the Little Pet Cafe’s range, Lu Yao thought about it for a moment and agreed. Two minutes later, Harold returned to the nail salon. Second Experiment: Transporting a small bird from Alexander’s Continent to Sanhua City. Harold used the Qiankun Bag containing the bird and opened a spacetime portal once again. One minute later— [Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi: Help!!! The bird got pounced on by Erxin!!!] [Nail Salon Harold: The chubby cat moved too fast.] Lu Yao rushed to the Childhood Tutoring Center and rescued the bird from Erxin’s fluffy paws. The plump cat just wanted to play, so the bird was unharmed. Afterward, Harold returned to the nail salon with the bird. When it flew out of the Qiankun Bag again, it was in good condition. Third and Final Experiment: Transporting a live magic bull from Alexander’s Continent to the Nitean Continent. The magic bull was three times the size of an ordinary ox, aggressive, and highly temperamental. Worried that the Nitean Littles might be affected, Lu Yao arrived at Thorn Valley in advance. Harold stepped through the spacetime portal, releasing the massive magic bull from the Qiankun Bag. The Nitean Littles observed from the safety of their village by the inn. Startled by its unfamiliar surroundings, the magic bull stomped its hooves and lowered its massive, curved horns in a threatening charge toward Harold. But before it could get close, Harold raised his hand, and the bull collapsed sideways with a resounding thud. Lu Yao handed Harold a large, broad-bladed machete and called out to the little people near the inn: “Danger resolved. Get ready to butcher for meat!” The Nitean Continent was entering the cold Twilight Moon Season, and the little people had been trying to stockpile food. With the successful conclusion of the experiment, the magic bull was donated as rations for the little people. A delicacy from Alexander’s Continent, the meat of the magic bull was tender and flavorful, popular across various stores on the shopping street. Although the little people occasionally enjoyed it at the hot spring inn, they hadn’t realized such delicious meat came from such a massive animal. After three successful experiments, it was confirmed that Harold could carry living beings through spacetime using the Qiankun Bag. Lu Yao returned to the DIY Workshop and contacted the five players through their Ghost Bracelets. The meeting was set for three days later. … Three Days Later, Mingshi City, E60 District. At the rooftop of Green Forest Sanatorium. In addition to the five players Lu Yao had contacted—Song Wen, Ren You, Xing Yong, Cai Yuxing, and Chen You—Ji Linkai, Liu Jing, and Jiang Lin were also present. Some had woken up in Green Forest Sanatorium and had been undergoing therapy and rehabilitation; others had rushed over from other districts after being contacted. Except for Ren You, everyone else was in wheelchairs. Their meeting with Lu Yao via the Ghost Bracelets had been set for 9:00 a.m., but by 8:30, most of them had arrived. Seeing several former DIY Workshop employees, Xing Yong couldn’t help but ask, “Is the boss really a robot?” The DIY employees, Jiang Lin, and Ren You all shook their heads. Ren You said, “I don’t think the shopkeeper is a robot.” Liu Jing: “I don’t think so either.” Ji Linkai: “So, the official statement from Ghost Street is fake?” Although Ji Linkai was a shop assistant, he joined later and wasn’t familiar with the events leading up to the official opening of the DIY Workshop. About 80% of the players trapped in Ghost Street had regained consciousness, while 20% were confirmed to have suffered brain death, causing a massive stir in Mingshi City. As the situation escalated, not only had Ghost Street‘s official developers and the game company become a target of public backlash, but questions about the safety of virtual worlds and the role of Polaris had also begun surfacing. Three days ago, the developers admitted that the still-unlogged game character “Lu Yao” was a robot designed by the company to rescue players. The statement didn’t address any substantive issues but did temporarily quell some of the online disputes. Cai Yuxing: “We saw it.” Ji Linkai: “Saw what?” Cai Yuxing suddenly clutched her throat, shaking her head vigorously. The binding confidentiality agreement they signed in Ghost Street hadn’t dissolved even after returning to the real world. They were forever forbidden from revealing the secrets of the DIY Workshop. Xing Yong, growing anxious: “What’s going on? Why can’t you say anything at a time like this?” Liu Jing, Chen You, Cai Yuxing, Jiang Lin, and Ren You—each bound by the agreement—remained silent. At that moment, the five individuals with Ghost Bracelets received a notification instructing them to form a circle, stack their bracelets together, and wait for a few minutes. They had no idea what Lu Yao intended or what was about to happen, but they followed the instructions as agreed. The three without bracelets stood behind them, equally curious about what might unfold. After five minutes of nothing happening, Xing Yong lowered his arm: “My arm’s sore. What does the shopkeeper mean by this?” Jiang Lin: “For a second, I thought she might emerge from the bracelets.” Ren You laughed: “Your imagination is wild.” Liu Jing: “I thought of something similar. Not through the bracelets, though. I figured the shopkeeper might suddenly appear in a helicopter.” … Amid their idle chatter, a faint sound like the turning of a lock cylinder echoed. Everyone turned toward the noise and saw a door materialize out of thin air on the empty rooftop. After a soft “click,” the door opened, and out stepped a young man dressed in a black robe with his hair tied high in a ponytail. The youth stood tall and graceful, wearing an intricately designed long black robe. His black hair was neatly bound, his features were exceptionally refined, and his deep blue eyes were stunning. Liu Jing stared, muttering in awe: “Straight out of… a manga…” Harold glanced at the group, said nothing, then turned away, slightly tilted his head back, and reached into his mouth to pull out the Qiankun Bag. During the experiments, Harold had worn the Qiankun Bag on him. But before the actual transfer, he grew uneasy and, after much deliberation, decided to hide it inside his stomach. In case of unexpected accidents during the journey, having Lu Yao safely inside his stomach meant she would be absolutely protected. Harold opened the Qiankun Bag, and Lu Yao leapt out. Seeing her companions frozen in shock, she smiled and greeted them, “Long time no see.” “…” Harold steadied Lu Yao and gave her a quick once-over. “You’re okay?” Lu Yao shook her head and raised her wrist, softly saying, “Qiuyu, time to wake up.” The small black dragon coiled around her wrist stirred, its tail tip scratching lightly at the skin on her inner wrist. When Lu Yao and Harold were conducting the time-travel experiments, the little ones from the internet café caught wind of it via their phones. Qiuyu quietly cozied up to Lu Yao, begging to go with her to Mingshi City. Lu Yao, unable to decide on her own, left it up to Harold since he was the one facilitating the journey. Somehow, Qiuyu managed to persuade Harold—the usually aloof and lazy little black dragon—to agree. When the otherworldly employees at the nail salon heard that another dragon from a different store would be accompanying Lu Yao, they were surprised but entirely reassured. Qiuyu seemed uninterested in taking human form for now. Lu Yao glanced at her companions, who already seemed on the verge of sensory overload, and decided not to push Qiuyu. Lu Yao stepped forward, clapping her hands lightly to recapture everyone’s drifting attention. “Thank you all. It’s because of your efforts that we were able to leave Ghost Street.” Everyone was still in a state of shock. Ji Linkai was the first to regain his composure, staring at Lu Yao in a daze before slowly shifting his gaze to the young man standing beside her. Lu Yao pulled Harold closer and introduced him. “This is Harold, my younger brother.” Everyone: “Younger brother?!” Liu Jing: “Shopkeeper, why is your name Lu Yao while your brother’s name is Harold?” Cai Yuxing chimed in, “You don’t look or sound like siblings at all.” Ji Linkai: “Isn’t that a bit off-topic?” 🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️ TOC
Ch 164: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II Song Wen lay on the sofa, weary and disheartened, unable to fathom the shopkeeper’s intentions or see how he could possibly assist her. The fact that she could still video call him from inside the game would have sent him running if his body allowed it. In his eyes, the shopkeeper now seemed even more enigmatic than the mysterious entity in Ghost Street. Yet she was different. From his interactions with her in the game, Song Wen found Lu Yao to be calm, rational, and gentle—not at all like the wild speculations circulating online. He didn’t believe she was a robot, but considering the current circumstances, her existence felt increasingly unsettling. He rehearsed a refusal in his mind, intending to decline tactfully. “I just woke up, my body is still weak, and I can barely move. I’m afraid I won’t be of much help.” Lu Yao didn’t press further about his assistance, instead asking with concern, “You’ve been unconscious for a long time; it takes time to recover. Don’t rush yourself. How’s Grandma doing?” Mentioning his grandmother brought a pang to Song Wen’s heart. Before he entered Ghost Street, it was his grandmother who had cared for him while his parents were busy with work. When he inadvertently entered the game, his grandmother had followed. Later, she explained she had called him for dinner but received no response. When she entered his room, she found him slumped over his desk, wearing his communicator. Concerned about the growing reports of “net-blindness,” where young people became addicted to virtual worlds and refused to leave, she had tried to contact his parents but had somehow also ended up in Ghost Street. His grandmother, unfamiliar with the newest communicators and only capable of using voice commands for calls, could never explain how she had entered the virtual game world. Song Wen replied, “The hospital contacted us not long ago; Grandma has woken up. But given her age and how long she’s been unconscious, she’ll need to stay for observation.” Lu Yao reassured him, “Don’t worry. Grandma will recover soon, and so will you. By the way, after all the players logged out, how’s the game company responding?” Song Wen, simmering with indignation, found it hard to suppress his frustration. “They’re playing dead. Players who woke up this morning flooded the forums, and the news is everywhere, but the game company isn’t issuing statements or apologies. What’s most outrageous is that nearly 100,000 players were trapped in the virtual world for years, and even Polaris didn’t detect anything.” Lu Yao, unfamiliar with “Polaris,” simply murmured, “Polaris, huh…” But Song Wen, absorbed in venting his grievances, didn’t notice. “Seven years! Ghost Street has been running for seven years, and people started getting trapped in the first year. Polaris, this so-called super AI monitoring virtual worlds in real-time, didn’t notice a thing. It’s ridiculous! They claim to be the guardians of the virtual world’s order, but what can they actually protect?” So Polaris was the name of the AI, Lu Yao realized. She quietly listened, mentally piecing together useful information from his tirade. After about twenty minutes, Song Wen’s voice grew hoarse. He paused to sip water and glanced at the screen showing Lu Yao. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he apologized, “Sorry for unloading all that on you.” Lu Yao shook her head. “It’s fine. I don’t have much else to do. With the players gone, there’s no business in the shop anymore.” Song Wen thought of the morning’s live broadcast—the desolate streets of Ghost Street, the shopkeeper single-handedly facing a boss. Now, with the boss defeated, she was left to guard an empty world. How lonely that must feel. Despite the mysteries surrounding her, Song Wen couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. “What was it you wanted my help with? If it’s not too urgent, I can try once I can walk again.” Lu Yao said earnestly, “It’s nothing too complicated. Apart from you, four other players brought Ghost Bracelets out of the game. I’d like to ask you all to meet.” Song Wen asked, “Is that all?” Lu Yao’s expression was sincere. “Yes. I’ll coordinate the details through the bracelet.” Song Wen nodded. “Understood.” After ending the call with Song Wen, Lu Yao’s list still included four other players: former chapel guard Ren You, shop assistant Cai Yuxing, Chen You, and guest Xing Yong. … Mingshi City, A50 District. A slender young man leaned against the edge of the bed, a bowl of vegetable porridge placed on a folding table in front of him. Each spoonful he took seemed to require immense determination. The person beside him couldn’t bear it anymore. “Is it that bad?” Ren You frowned and smacked his lips. “It’s as tasteless as the food in Ghost Street—no flavor, no texture.” Ren You’s mother didn’t quite understand. “Maybe you’ve been asleep too long, and your taste buds are off? I think this porridge is quite good. I went downstairs to get it just for you.” Ren You hesitated. “…After a few more bites, I guess it’s not that bad.” His mother pointed to the silver ring on his finger. “When did you get that? It wasn’t there this morning when I changed your clothes.” Ren You also found it peculiar. He took the ring off and examined it, his face full of surprise. “This ring… it seems like the one I bought in the game.” His mother’s face stiffened, a hint of worry in her tone. “What nonsense are you talking about? You’re not fully awake yet.” Ren You was about to retort when a sharp pain shot through his finger. Instinctively, he summoned the storage panel and saw the Ghost Bracelet sitting neatly in the storage slot. Hesitating for a moment, just like Song Wen, he eventually retrieved the bracelet. The small flashing dot on the inside caught his attention. When he touched it, the bracelet transformed into a watch. Lu Yao’s voice came through the screen on the watch, startling Ren You and leaving his mother looking alarmed. Lu Yao explained her purpose, and while Ren You found it surprising, he didn’t ask too many questions and readily agreed to her request. After the call ended, his mother finally spoke. “That girl—did you meet her in the game?” Ren You was relatively lucky, having spent only a few months in Ghost Street. At just 23 years old, he was still very young. Hearing the gossip in her tone, he held his forehead. “Mom—don’t overthink it.” His mother sighed and asked again, “What’s with this ring? It can hold things?” Ren You couldn’t figure out how an in-game item had followed him to the real world. Unsure of how to explain without alarming her, he quickly finished the bowl of porridge, pushed the folding table aside, and pulled the blanket over himself. “Mom, I’m going to take a nap.” Lu Yao then contacted Cai Yuxing, Chen You, and Xing Yong, convincing them to meet. As her former shop assistants, Cai Yuxing and Chen You had a high level of trust in Lu Yao. While they were surprised by the call, neither hesitated to agree. However, both were in rehabilitation at the hospital and unable to move freely for the time being. Xing Yong was also in a hospital and had a long conversation with Lu Yao before eventually agreeing to help. Of the five players, three were in hospitals and undergoing rehabilitation, and one was recovering at home and unable to move much. Only Ren You’s condition was slightly better; with two or three more days of rest, he would likely regain full mobility. Lu Yao urged them to add each other as friends and then closed the shop for the day. She returned to the shopping street to analyze the intelligence she had gathered. Mingshi City was a world where technological advancements far surpassed those of Yaoguang City. Research into holographic technology and artificial intelligence had reached remarkable heights, and the construction of virtual worlds began about a decade ago. Beyond holographic games, this world boasted rich and expansive virtual social platforms, all of which supported holographic technology. Here, all one needed to surf the web was a communication device the size of a Bluetooth earpiece. They had even developed specialized communicators capable of transmitting the sensations of smell, taste, and touch within virtual environments. This type of communicator is widely used in online streaming and e-commerce platforms. The rapid development of the virtual world has brought convenience and rich entertainment experiences to people. However, it has also caused massive job losses for ordinary people and a surge in cybercrime. Shortly afterward, the government launched the super AI system known as Polaris. Polaris possesses immense computational and learning abilities. Its introduction successfully curbed cybercrime, earning it the reputation of being the “ever-bright star of the virtual world” and the “guardian of order in the borderless realm.” In recent years, thanks to Polaris’ oversight, the virtual environment has become increasingly unified and stable. This influence has extended to the real world, leading to more orderly and stable development in various areas. The players trapped in Ghost Street were classified as “net-blindness” patients in recent years. Most were transferred by their families to nursing homes for rehabilitation. The prevalence of “net-blindness” has surged in recent years, almost like an epidemic, affecting a massive and widespread population. Most families have come to regard it as a side effect of technological progress, akin to a seasonal flu, as they can no longer detach their lives from the conveniences brought by the virtual world. However, the situation of Ghost Street players may force Mingshi City’s residents to confront a problem they had been trying to ignore. The supposedly safe virtual world may not be as secure as they once thought. Mingshi City’s reality deviated significantly from Lu Yao’s expectations. She had assumed that an entity capable of trapping the System would possess nearly divine powers, or at least something akin to a god. Yet, within the civilization she had come to understand in Mingshi City, no such comparable entity existed. Her inability to enter Mingshi City posed a significant problem for her. Without players, Ghost Street had become devoid of activity, leaving her shop without customers. That afternoon, Lu Yao didn’t stay at the Ghost Street shop. Instead, she took a rare break, returning to the nail salon to rest for half a day. The little ones at the salon were overjoyed. Merulu, Puxiu, and Mumu abandoned their work and clung to Lu Yao, begging her to play with them. By evening, Harold and Tina returned from Dragon Valley, accompanied by a dozen young dragons—all classmates of Harold and Tina at the valley. When Harold entered and saw Lu Yao, he quickly walked over, circling her twice to confirm she was unharmed. “You were in a fight today.” At this time, there were no customers getting their nails done. The staff, who were wrapping up their work, paused and looked at Lu Yao in unison. Lu Yao replied casually, “Just a little fight with a small boss.” One of Harold’s classmates leaned closer. “It was a big monster—I could feel it.” Tina added, “But Lu Yao won easily.” Lu Yao belatedly realized, “Even such a tiny piece of scale, and you could feel it?” Another of Harold’s classmates became particularly excited. “Battles in other worlds are so intriguing. Next year, I’ll send you a new scale.” A small golden dragon suggested, “Let’s have the dwarves craft a dragonscale sword next time. Lu Yao would be the most powerful magical holy dragon swordsman!” A young green dragon clung to Lu Yao’s leg. “I’ll molt next year too. My heart-scale will go to you. No losing in battles!” Lu Yao: “…” The young dragonlings bombarded Lu Yao with questions about her battles and urged her to take them along in future fights. Meanwhile, they also received manicures and nail care treatments. By the time they left, the Emerald Town was gently embraced by the night. Lu Yao and Harold retreated to the lounge for a conversation when Edward and Ambrose knocked and entered. Edward teased, “Plotting another exciting adventure?” Harold tilted his head up, grinning smugly. “Lu Yao wants to go to Mingshi City, and I’m the only one who can take her there.” Ambrose pounded the door. “The dragon bloodline’s legacy is always enviably powerful.” 🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️ TOC
Ch 163: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II Lu Yao left the Childhood Tutoring Center, unaware that a chubby “gas tank” with its tail raised was following behind her. Returning to the DIY shop alone, she opened the built-in Ghost Street system interface. At the bottom of the page, the logout button was indeed visible. She tapped it but got no response. She tried several times, both by touch and voice commands, but nothing worked. The logout button was technically selectable—when tapped, its color darkened slightly—but beyond that, there was no further reaction. According to Alfred’s analysis, the Ghost Street system itself was not malfunctioning. However, Lu Yao’s existence was too unique, and the system couldn’t complete a real human’s transfer. Unable to go to Mingshi City and with all the other players logged out—including the defeat of the final boss—Lu Yao found herself as the last “living” person on Ghost Street. The eerie solitude weighed heavily on her. Pulling a chair to sit by the shop entrance, she began contemplating how to find the system again. Suddenly, a soft warmth pressed against her legs, accompanied by the sound of purring like a little motorbike. Lu Yao looked down. Erxin had her tail raised high, rubbing her head affectionately against Lu Yao’s pants. Her round face and large eyes were unbearably cute. Surprised, Lu Yao bent down to pick her up, preparing to return the “big gas tank” to the Childhood Tutoring Center. “How did you get here? Followed me, huh?” “Meow.” Erxin nuzzled against Lu Yao’s neck, purring happily. Having neglected its weight control for months, Erxin had become a solid little pig-cat. Lifting it abruptly, Lu Yao almost lost her grip. She shifted her hold, trying to steady the hefty form. At the spot where Erxin had just been lying, several silver wristbands were scattered on the ground. Lu Yao found this odd—those hadn’t been there when she returned. Crouching, she picked one up. It was an already activated Ghost bracelet. How had a customer’s bracelet ended up back at the shop? Erxin hopped down from her arms with a quick push of the stubby legs. Picking up one of the bracelets in her mouth, it began heading toward the operations classroom, glancing back at Lu Yao as if urging her to follow. Gathering the remaining bracelets, Lu Yao stood and followed the little fat cat. The two arrived at the staff break room, where Ghost bracelets were scattered everywhere. Lu Yao picked up a few to examine. They were all bracelets previously sold to customers. Although the Ghost bracelets were physical objects, players couldn’t take them out of the game when logging out, leaving them behind in the Ghost Street world. After the bracelets were officially launched at the DIY shop, some staff and customers had expressed concerns about losing them. To address this, Lu Yao had enchanted them with a “Never Lost” spell, which customers could upgrade for free. Thanks to the enchantment, if a bracelet was misplaced, it would find its way back to the shop within four hours. With players now logged out, the abandoned bracelets, guided by Lu Yao’s spell, had returned to the DIY shop in search of their owners. Over the course of sales, thousands of bracelets had been sold. Now, they were all piled up in the break room. Lu Yao fetched an empty storage box and began collecting them. She surmised that Ghost Street’s players wouldn’t return, rendering the bracelets she had painstakingly developed essentially useless. With little motivation to deal with them now, she decided to pack them up and store them in the warehouse. Midway through her tidying, an idea struck her: some bracelets might have made it to Mingshi City. A few customers had once commissioned her to create storage rings. These rings functioned on the same principle as Xiao Ji’s ring but were lower-spec versions due to their relatively modest price of just over 800 Ghost Coins. Since the Ghost bracelets were about to be launched, Lu Yao considered their storage function overlapping with the custom storage rings. As compensation, she used empty illusion rings as a medium for storage space and added a bit of passive enhancement. Due to the unique nature of illusion rings, the storage rings customized by customers could be taken into the real world. The Ghost bracelets of the customers who owned those rings likely ended up being stored in their rings upon logging out. Lu Yao decided that checking with the store’s staff on whether those bracelets were still in the DIY shop would confirm her suspicions. Carrying Erxin, who was sprawled on the couch licking its fur, she returned to the shopping street, dropped the chubby cat off at the Childhood Tutoring Center, and headed to the main server room to investigate the status of the bracelets. Zhang Shu tensed up upon seeing Lu Yao. “Did something happen at the shop? Ninety-nine percent of the Ghost bracelets are in sleep mode.” Lu Yao replied, “All the players have logged out of Ghost Street.” He Bi asked, “So suddenly?” Lu Yao explained, “The logout mechanism hidden in the game was discovered by a colleague at the shop, making it simple to log out. The bracelets, being tangible items, couldn’t be taken out of the game, so they’ve all returned to the shop and entered sleep mode. However, I suspect a few have been taken away. Can you check?” Zhang Shu quickly conducted a search and confirmed, “There are indeed five bracelets missing from Ghost Street. The system can’t locate them; their status is unknown.” Lu Yao nodded. “Got it.” With confirmation that a few bracelets were no longer in Ghost Street, she could be sure they had followed the storage rings into Mingshi City. After Lu Yao left, the staff in the main server room exchanged concerns. Song Qingshan cradled his head, distressed. “All the players logged out in one morning—does this mean I’m about to lose my job again?” He Bi tried to reassure him. “Relax, bro. They’ve only temporarily logged out. It doesn’t mean they won’t come back.” Song Qingshan retorted, “Would you go back to a game where you were trapped for years, constantly facing life-threatening dangers, and only just managed to escape?” Realizing the gravity of the situation, He Bi’s expression turned serious. “We’ve just become permanent staff—are we about to be laid off?” Zhang Shu, equally anxious, chimed in, “No, please! The location might be out of the way, but the boss doesn’t micromanage, the lunchboxes are tasty, and we often get staff perks. I don’t want to change jobs so soon.” … Lu Yao was unaware of her staff’s worries. Back at the DIY shop, she retrieved the Regulation Rod. Since most Ghost bracelet users were linked to her consciousness, the bracelets served as a medium. She decided to use an unconventional method to contact those customers. … Mingshi City, E60 District The hospital had contacted the family earlier: Granny Xu had awakened. Song Wen’s parents had already left for the hospital. Sitting alone in the living room, Song Wen watched news reports projected on the wall. They were all about the sudden mass awakening of “net-blindness” patients and the flood of Ghost Street players demanding accountability on the game’s official channels and forums. He stared blankly at the news. Many players had been trapped in the virtual game world for years. Upon waking, their bodies exhibited varying degrees of damage or degeneration, leaving them physically impaired. For various real-world reasons, discussions and debates about net-blindness and virtual worlds raged only online. When trapped in Ghost Street, Song Wen had thought that if he could escape with his grandmother, he would never ask for anything more. But after finally returning to the real world, not only had no one realized their plight, but they were also labeled as “net-blindness” patients. Society crudely lumped all the players trapped in the game as escapists addicted to the virtual world. Having been unconscious for so long, Song Wen’s body couldn’t yet handle solid food, so he had to rely on liquid nutrition to stave off hunger. Perhaps it was because he had just awakened, or maybe it was the chaotic state of the world. Seeing how much his parents had aged over the years, worn out from caring for him and his grandmother, the fleeting joy of escaping Ghost Street was quickly overshadowed by the cold and absurd reality. Song Wen lay back on the sofa, exhausted, and closed his eyes, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Reality was just as awful as the virtual world. Suddenly, a faint tingling sensation pricked his fingertips. He ignored it. But after a few seconds, a sharp pain shot through his knuckle. Irritated, Song Wen opened his eyes and froze at the sight of the silver ring on his left index finger. His brows furrowed. This was… the storage ring he had bought from the DIY shop? Could virtual items be brought into the real world? He had never heard of such a thing. Even in Mingshi City, with its advanced technology and the guidance of Polaris, where over 90% of people had experienced immersion in fully sensory virtual spaces, including taste and smell through specialized communicators, there was no technology capable of transferring items from the virtual to the real world. Unless… this ring was a real object to begin with. Song Wen thought of the speculation online about the shop owner’s identity. Staring at the ring on his finger, an inexplicable fear crept into his heart. Come to think of it, when he first woke up, that strange voice in his head mentioned he had a ring. At the time, still groggy from waking, he hadn’t paid attention. Now, recalling it gave him an eerie feeling. Why had that strange voice appeared in his mind? Before he woke, it seemed to be repeatedly calling for Lu Yao. Was the “Lu Yao” it sought the same Lu Yao he knew? Song Wen raised his hand, struggling to remove the ring. He held it up to his eyes, his face pale. The mark engraved on the inside of the ring was unmistakable—it was the very symbol he was all too familiar with. As Song Wen focused, a storage panel materialized in front of him, revealing a silver bracelet in the first slot. The silver bracelet had a small blue dot on its inner side that blinked rhythmically. Song Wen blinked hard, but the panel and flashing light didn’t disappear. Resigned, he pulled the Ghost bracelet out of the storage ring. The moment the bracelet appeared, it was as if an object from a 2D world had breached the dimensional barrier and entered the 3D realm. The bracelet was sleek and smooth, gleaming silver. It felt heavy and cold in his hand—definitely not a virtual item. The blinking blue dot was precisely at the center of the “遥” (Yao) mark on the bracelet’s interior. Song Wen’s bracelet was an early version that he had later upgraded at the shop. He remembered Lu Yao specifically explaining the button to him during the upgrade. He put the bracelet on, fumbling to press the tiny dot inside it with a finger. A soft mechanical click sounded, and the bracelet transformed into a watch. The watch’s face lit up as a small screen displayed an incoming video call request. Caller: Lu Yao. Song Wen stared at the screen, motionless. After more than ten seconds, the call automatically connected. Lu Yao’s face appeared on the small screen. “Hello, Song Wen. This is Lu Yao, the owner of DIY Small Workshop at Ghost Street, No. 13.” Song Wen frowned. “…I didn’t accept this call.” Lu Yao apologized, her tone calm. “The situation is urgent. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” On the screen, Lu Yao’s expression was livelier than it had been in the game. Her voice, however, was exactly the same. Though still wary, Song Wen found himself inexplicably calmed by her familiar face and voice. “Where are you?” Lu Yao didn’t hide the truth. “Ghost Street.” Song Wen exhaled slowly. “Why haven’t you logged out of the game? Who are you? And why are the bracelet and ring you gave me so… strange?” Lu Yao smiled faintly. “Those are minor details. I’ll explain them thoroughly when we have more time. For now, I need your help with something.” 🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️ TOC