"I finally understand your joy," Zhong Ziyan remarked as she drove the Hummer along the roads of a Swiss town, glancing at Wei Hanyun with newfound appreciation. "Spending money on others really does bring a different kind of happiness compared to spending it on yourself."
It took Wei Hanyun two seconds to recall the misleading impression he had once given Zhong Ziyan.
He had led her to believe that he took pleasure in watching others spend his money.
Suppressing a laugh—after playing the "I'm so delicate" act all the way from Claude Island—Wei Hanyun adjusted the leather gloves Zhong Ziyan had insisted he wear before leaving. He lowered his head slightly to hide his amusement.
Then, leaning back in the passenger seat, he replied leisurely, "Helping others does bring a unique sense of fulfillment, but only those with a kind heart can truly appreciate it. When someone condescendingly throws money at others, all they gain is hollow self-aggrandizement, and the recipients feel neither joy nor gratitude."
His explanation was a bit complex, even philosophical. Zhong Ziyan pondered it before distilling the core message: "You're complimenting me."
Wei Hanyun couldn’t hold back his laughter this time. He nodded in agreement. "Yes, I’m complimenting you."
Satisfied, Zhong Ziyan handed him one of the free cotton candies she’d picked up at the gaming store earlier.
"Thank you," Wei Hanyun said politely, inclining his head.
The gaming store’s delivery van followed their Hummer all the way to the vacation house at the foot of the snow-capped mountains. When the bodyguards materialized out of nowhere to help unload the massive water-cooled PC cases and monitors, the poor store employees nearly jumped out of their skins.
Zhong Ziyan had only the most basic knowledge of computers—brands and specs were entirely beyond her. After offering the installation team snacks and soda, she waited two hours for them to set up the new gaming rigs and two consoles.
The entire setup, including labor, cost less than 200,000 euros—a bargain in Zhong Ziyan’s eyes, especially since the store manager had assured her it was the best gaming configuration money could buy.
A guest bedroom had been transformed into a fully equipped gaming den in just a few hours. One wall boasted a massive screen compatible with the PS5 and XSX, while two sleek gaming desks stood side by side, each outfitted with expansive curved triple monitors and flashy water-cooled towers.
Even Zhong Ziyan, who knew little about PC specs, could tell the money had been well spent—at least visually.
Add in the shelves stocked with game cartridges, controllers, and chargers, and the total still cost less than a single designer handbag.
Zhong Ziyan snapped a photo of the gaming room and posted it on Weibo:
"Today’s challenge: deciding which game to play first. Maybe Monopoly?"
Her Weibo had exploded in popularity after the infamous "Second Young Miss" livestream incident, and her follower count now surpassed many celebrities’. Every post trended instantly—especially since each one reeked of the kind of lavish spending that made people desperate to bask in her financial aura.
"MONOPOLY?! Absolutely not!! Do you hear that water-cooled rig crying? It cost tens of thousands!!"
"...Wait, is that a snow mountain outside the window??"
"Classic. Honeymooning by playing games in a cozy cabin at the foot of the Alps. Goals."
"Geography noob here—where is this? All I know is that house looks expensive."
"Just checked real estate listings. A chalet with a private ski slope and hot spring pool just sold for 160 million RMB near the Alps..."
"160 million?! Excuse me, but ‘chalet’ is an insult to a mansion that expensive!!"
Zhong Ziyan, as usual, abandoned her phone after posting and dove into the sea of game cartridges in search of Monopoly.
Before she could find it, the doorbell rang.
"I’ll get it," Wei Hanyun offered.
Zhong Ziyan lazily scanned the area with her psychic senses—just the little boy she’d gifted a figurine to earlier, accompanied by his parents. Satisfied, she nodded.
Wei Hanyun returned with a still-warm apple pie. "A thank-you gift from the boy’s parents."
Ten minutes later, still Monopoly-less, Zhong Ziyan held up Mario Kart and Mario Odyssey and turned to Wei Hanyun. "Which one?"
Wei Hanyun deferred humbly. "I’ve never played either. You choose."
Zhong Ziyan studied the covers, then promptly crowdsourced the decision online.
While netizens passionately debated the merits of both games, Zhong Ziyan and Wei Hanyun shared the carpenter couple’s apple pie—delicious, by the way.
...Then, they proceeded to play co-op until dawn, with Zhong Ziyan only dragged to bed when Wei Hanyun physically hauled her away.
After brushing her teeth and collapsing onto the mattress, Zhong Ziyan lay wide awake, calculating how much longer it would take to finish the game.
Rolling onto her side, she grabbed her phone and typed out another Weibo post:
"Smart people really are good at everything—even gaming. Co-op mode is unstoppable."
The top comment, dripping with mischief:
"...Next time, try Overcooked. See how ‘unstoppable’ you are then."
......
Zhong Ziyan didn’t technically need sleep, but human habits were hard to shake. She could sleep—and sleep deeply.
Having dozed off at dawn, she woke around noon.
Wei Hanyun, already up, sat by the fireplace reading a magazine. "Good afternoon. I made a simple lunch. We can resume gaming later."
Zhong Ziyan, remembering that cooking was technically part of her job description, eyed the sandwiches in the warmer and vowed to reform. As a professional, she couldn’t let this laziness continue.
"How about the hot springs this afternoon?" she suggested. "I recall there’s a wine cellar underground. I had Shuangshuang stock it with some bottles in advance."
Truthfully, she hadn’t even explored the entire above-ground portion of the chalet, let alone the cellar.
The underground wine cellar, nestled at the foot of the snow-capped mountains, was essentially a natural icehouse—perfect for storing food and alcohol.
The property listing had mentioned a "luxury wine cellar," clearly a major selling point.
In Zhong Ziyan’s imagination, it was probably the size of Ting Mountain’s walk-in fridge—maybe a few dozen square meters.
But the moment she stepped into the cellar’s entrance, she knew something was off. The spiral staircase alone suggested a depth far beyond a single floor.
After descending nearly seven meters, Zhong Ziyan finally reached the cellar floor.
She took in the vast, stone-carved chamber before her: "..."
The original owner must have been either a raging alcoholic or a winery tycoon.
Or both.
The design of the wine cellar was rather antiquated, with even the lighting fashioned into imitation oil lamps fixed onto stone pillars.
The cellar spanned at least four to five hundred square meters, lined with rows of wine racks taller than two Zhong Ziyans stacked together. They varied in size—some large enough to hold barrels, others seemingly designed only for round-bottomed wine bottles.
Each row of racks was equipped with a fixed sliding ladder, making it easier to climb up and retrieve bottles.
But the biggest question on Zhong Ziyan’s mind was: If there really were this many bottles, how could one accurately find the one they wanted to drink?
Fortunately, the cellar was currently almost empty, with only a few dozen bottles temporarily stocked on the bottom shelves nearest the staircase.
For an ordinary household, a collection of several dozen bottles would already be considered substantial, but for the capacity of this cellar, it was merely a drop in the ocean.
Wei Hanyun stood behind Zhong Ziyan, surveying the cellar. "You should fill it up. Wine is also a decent investment."
Zhong Ziyan did a rough estimate—filling this place would require at least tens of thousands of bottles and barrels. "Like buying out a winery and moving their entire inventory here?"
"That would just be relocating their stock, and it wouldn’t hold much collectible value," Wei Hanyun remarked casually as he pulled out a bottle—Peter Green Castle, the same wine used for the wedding raffle. He tilted his head slightly toward Zhong Ziyan. "There are other ways to acquire collectible-grade wines."
"1982 Lafite?" Zhong Ziyan had heard of that one.
As for Peter Green Castle, she’d only looked it up after seeing it in the wedding gift raffle pool.
"That’s only a few tens of thousands per bottle. Wines from Domaine Romanée-Conti or Château Lé might hold even more value," Wei Hanyun said nonchalantly as they walked further in. "So, filling this cellar wouldn’t actually cost you that much."
Zhong Ziyan: "..." The legendary 1982 Lafite, which everyone’s heard of, was only a few tens of thousands per bottle? It really didn’t seem that expensive.
She did some mental calculations.
Assuming it took ten thousand bottles to fill the cellar, and each bottle cost just thirty thousand—that would still add up to a staggering three hundred million, nearly twice the price of this house.
More importantly, if they ever sold the house, what would they do with all that wine?
Zhong Ziyan dismissed Wei Hanyun’s suggestion and changed into her swimwear to soak in the private hot spring.
Though the outdoor temperature was low, the natural heat of the spring water kept her comfortably warm.
After circling halfway around the pool, she finally discovered a hidden waterproof bar counter with push-button controls, designed to temporarily hold wine bottles, glasses, and ice.
As for wines costing tens of thousands per bottle, Zhong Ziyan couldn’t tell the difference in taste. It was just like the edible gold leaf on the ice cream the night before the wedding—utterly indistinguishable.
Honestly, what a waste of gold. Zhong Ziyan inwardly condemned the extravagance.
"Look at that mountain," Wei Hanyun suddenly said.
Zhong Ziyan followed his gaze toward a neighboring peak of the Alps, its summit blanketed in pure white snow, the very tip veiled by a thin layer of clouds—as if the mountain were wearing a translucent hat.
"So beautiful," she murmured, resting her chin on her hand as she snapped a photo with her phone.
Wei Hanyun hummed in agreement, but his next words were entirely unrelated. "That mountain is for sale."
Zhong Ziyan’s hand jerked, blurring the photo. "You can buy a mountain?" This was beyond her realm of knowledge.
Wei Hanyun leaned against the pool’s edge, propping his head on one hand as he watched her, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It’s not expensive. I’ll give it to you as a honeymoon gift… just like the ones I gave you after we got our marriage certificate."
Zhong Ziyan glanced at his now-empty wine glass: "..." Wei Hanyun couldn’t hold his liquor. He needed some peanuts to go with it.
