Zhong Ziyan could still remember how she used to shop at supermarkets a long, long time ago.
Enter the supermarket—scan the sections—search the shelves for needed items—toss two or three into the cart—grab a couple of snacks along the way—move to the next section—repeat several times—check out at the counter while grumbling internally about spending hundreds.
Old Madam Yu’s shopping style was just as simple.
Except what she bought weren’t toothbrushes priced at a dozen yuan or snacks costing twenty yuan a pack—they were daily necessities with an extra "ten thousand" tacked onto the price tag.
Zhong Ziyan trailed behind Old Madam Yu and Wei Hanyan, silently calculating her own spending power against Wei Hanyun’s.
Her past savings and assets, minus loans, had roughly amounted to seven digits. Wei Hanyun’s? Twelve digits.
So, rounding off, Wei Hanyun viewing 100,000 yuan was equivalent to her seeing a single yuan.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." If she had once bought a ten-thousand-yuan bag without blinking, then Wei Hanyun spending a billion wouldn’t even make him flinch.
Well, that was just math.
"Yanyan—"
Hearing someone call her, Zhong Ziyan reflexively responded, "Looks good, buy it."
As she spoke, she lifted her head and saw Wei Hanyan standing in front of her, placing a wide-brimmed sun hat on her head.
Zhong Ziyan glanced at the nearest mirror, unsurprised to find the hat adorned with a few sparkling colored diamonds woven into the design.
Designers really had endless ways to make their products more expensive.
"Auntie’s looks and figure make anything she wears stunning—we’ll take this hat too," Wei Hanyan gushed, thoroughly engrossed in her dress-up game. She had spent nearly an hour raiding the ready-to-wear section, pulling out countless outfits to drape over Zhong Ziyan.
Zhong Ziyan simply leaned against the wall, scrolling on her phone, letting Wei Hanyan buzz around like a delighted little top.
When Wei Hanyan finally paused, reluctantly satisfied, Zhong Ziyan glanced at the sales manager’s notepad, now densely filled with notes, and realized the wardrobe at the Tingshan mansion probably wouldn’t be nearly enough.
Back when the Tingshan butler had warned her it might not suffice, she had scoffed.
After today? Pure admiration.
"Most of these will need alterations, and some fabrics will have to be sent back to the original manufacturers in France or England. It’ll take about a month," Wei Hanyan said regretfully. "But since Auntie has to return today, we’ll have everything shipped to H City."
Zhong Ziyan nodded.
"Let’s check out skincare next," Old Madam Yu said cheerfully. "Women, no matter their age, must take care of their skin."
So the group moved to the skincare section, picking up everything from La Mer to La Prairie, serums to sheet masks.
Zhong Ziyan watched their enthusiasm but didn’t have the heart to mention that elves, in theory, didn’t age, didn’t need skincare, and didn’t even require sunscreen—their race was just unfairly blessed with divine beauty.
Wei Ziqian trailed behind the three, hands in his pockets, looking even more indifferent than Zhong Ziyan.
While Wei Hanyan and Old Madam Yu debated which brand’s essence was least likely to cause allergies, Wei Ziqian suddenly spoke up, addressing Zhong Ziyan: "Since you got tickets to the musical, do you know who else might be attending?"
"Li Ye will be there," Zhong Ziyan immediately used Li Ye as a shield.
"..." Wei Ziqian clicked his tongue impatiently. "I don’t care about Li Ye. I meant—will Zhong Hui be at the premiere? If he is, he’d probably be in the front row too, right?"
Zhong Ziyan pretended to think. "I can ask Li Ye."
—Of course, Zhong Hui wouldn’t be going.
Not only that, but she’d also have to coordinate with Li Ye to avoid exposure.
"I’ll have the butler send the tickets over once we’re back," Zhong Ziyan smoothly changed the subject.
"Fine." Wei Ziqian paused, then turned his face away. "...Thanks."
The volume was so low Zhong Ziyan doubted any pure-blooded human could hear it.
But just the word "thanks" alone had Wei Ziqian’s ears burning. Zhong Ziyan, ever tactful, pretended not to hear and smiled at Wei Hanyan as she approached.
"All done," Wei Hanyan chirped, linking arms with Zhong Ziyan. "Don’t forget to take everything when you leave today, Auntie."
"Anything else you’d like?" Zhong Ziyan asked, sounding like a nouveau riche.
Wei Hanyan thought for a moment. "I think I saw a car in the exhibition area earlier? They don’t usually sell cars here."
The sales manager smoothly interjected, "That’s correct. Normally, car sales aren’t part of our services, but this 1992 NSX-R is a special case. The NSX is one of the most iconic sports cars ever made—it single-handedly forced other brands to rethink their designs and dominated F1 racing. The ’92 model was only produced in limited quantities between 1992 and 1995. The one we’ve just acquired from its previous owner is in pristine condition—you’d be hard-pressed to find another like it in the world."
Zhong Ziyan admired his effortless expertise.
Most importantly, his pitch was understated yet incredibly persuasive.
Case in point: Wei Ziqian was practically vibrating with excitement beside her.
Wei Hanyan smirked. "Little brother, you don’t have a Chinese license, and after your suspension in the UK, Dad strictly forbade you from driving."
Wei Ziqian: "............"
Zhong Ziyan couldn’t help but feel Wei Hanyan’s "little brother" carried a mocking undertone. After a pause, she tilted her head. "Let’s take a look."
No wonder the sales manager had hyped it up—even Zhong Ziyan was tempted upon seeing the NSX in person.
It was just as striking as the boss’s Aston Martin.
As Zhong Ziyan admired it, she heard Wei Ziqian audibly swallow beside her.
To others, it might’ve been subtle, but to her, it was unmistakable.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Well, in for a penny. "I’ll take the car."
"You have excellent taste," the sales manager said, slightly surprised by the no-test-drive, instant-purchase decision. But his professionalism kicked in. "Given its rarity and condition, four million is a very reasonable price."
Zhong Ziyan’s heart didn’t even skip a beat at "four million."
Old Madam Yu checked the time. "It’s 10:30—time to head back and prepare for the sweet potato roast."
Wei Hanyan gasped. "We got so carried away, we forgot to buy a grill!"
The sales manager blinked. "A grill? Did the one in the Wei family kitchen break? I know a famous chain that specializes in roasted sweet potatoes—very clean and hygienic. Would you like me to recommend it?"
Zhong Ziyan thought that sounded fine.
But Old Madam Yu firmly declined. "This is a family activity. We must do it ourselves."
So the sales manager suggested a 300,000-yuan all-in-one outdoor barbecue set.
It was basically an entire kitchen… just without walls.
The outdoor kitchen was arranged in a U-shape, fully equipped with everything from a wine cabinet, refrigerator, oven, dishwasher, fruit and vegetable cleaner, sterilizer, all the way to a food waste disposal system.
Old Madam Yu found it perfect and immediately approved the purchase, arranging for installation on the spot. At the recommendation of the sales manager, she also bought supplementary kitchen appliances.
And all of this was just to roast a few sweet potatoes, Zhong Ziyan thought.
When they left Yansha, the newly purchased NSX-R was already waiting at the entrance, painted entirely in white, looking sleek and brimming with the explosive power unique to sports cars.
Yansha certainly offered chauffeur services, but Zhong Ziyan didn’t need one.
After informing Old Madam Yu, she got into the driver’s seat herself and tilted her chin toward Wei Ziqian, who couldn’t tear his eyes away from the car. “Getting in?”
Wei Ziqian, unable to resist—or rather, unable to pass up the rare opportunity to ride in a ’92 NSX—stiffly climbed into the passenger seat. The moment he fastened his seatbelt, the car shot forward like a bullet, accelerating to 100 kilometers per hour in just a few seconds. The wind whipped through the open window, distorting Wei Ziqian’s face before he could even react.
Terrified, he glanced at Zhong Ziyan beside him, who remained utterly composed as she gradually slowed down, keeping the speed just at the legal limit.
“Wei Hanyun’s garage is full,” Zhong Ziyan said casually, driving back from memory. “I’ll leave this car at the Wei residence.”
Wei Ziqian eyed her skeptically. “If it’s full, just buy a new house, no?”
“The new house is full too,” Zhong Ziyan replied without blinking. “I’ll leave the keys with you.”
“Wait,” Wei Ziqian caught on. “What do you mean? Trying to owe me a favor?”
“The car is under my name,” Zhong Ziyan didn’t even look at him. “I’m just letting you take care of it.”
Wei Ziqian, unable to resist…
He caressed the NSX’s handbrake longingly, then glanced at the custom racing-grade steering wheel in Zhong Ziyan’s hands. With a huff, he turned his face away. “Fine, I’ll keep it for you.”
……
On the way back, Old Madam Yu called Wei’s mother in advance. By the time they returned to the Wei residence, the area for the outdoor kitchen installation had already been cleared.
The staff from Yansha in Yan Capital were highly efficient, completing the full assembly in just half an hour.
At the same time, the kitchen delivered freshly washed sweet potatoes.
Wei Hanyan looked up how to roast sweet potatoes online and, finding it simple, rolled up her sleeves and got to work.
But reality was far less forgiving than imagination. Even with Wei’s mother joining in, the five of them fumbled around until 1 PM without managing to roast the sweet potatoes to the point where the sugary juices seeped out. The head chef watching from the sidelines had a headache.
To prevent these esteemed guests from going hungry, he swiftly set up a BBQ buffet on the other side of the kitchen.
Zhong Ziyan, never one to let her stomach suffer when there were options, was the first to grab a skewer.
“What a lively mood,” a soft, almost delicate voice remarked.
Zhong Ziyan frowned.
A person’s voice might be innate, but their tone was a choice.
When someone spoke with malice, traces of that hostility could always be detected.
Zhong Ziyan wasn’t skilled in scheming, but she had the sharpest instincts—honed through life-and-death battles.
This visitor harbored ill will toward her.
“…Third Uncle,” Wei Hanyan greeted coldly.
Wei Ziqian clicked his tongue but said nothing.
Zhong Ziyan had seen this man at last night’s banquet, though only in passing.
Since Wei Hanyan addressed him as such, this must be Wei Duohai, one of Old Master Wei’s illegitimate sons, ranked third among his brothers.
“I thought the family chefs had all gotten food poisoning,” Wei Duohai said with feigned politeness. “Otherwise, why would the masters of the house have to cook for themselves?”
But his deliberately affected tone only made it sound like mockery.
Zhong Ziyan thought for a moment, then tossed aside her skewer and calmly cast a mind-reading spell on Wei Duohai from afar.
