Watching Zhou Zedong's retreating figure, he couldn't help but sigh.
No wonder he was from the Zhou Family—just as aloof as the eldest Zhou.
He shook his head and was about to leave when he noticed the Second Child staring at him, sniffing his runny nose.
It gave him a start.
The Second Child had played in the water the day before and caught a slight chill. With the drastic temperature changes between morning and evening, his nose kept running.
In front of his mother, he was always careful about his image, sniffing discreetly now and then.
But around outsiders, he didn’t bother. If it dripped to his lips, he’d lick it off, ignoring the horrified looks he got. Gripping the straps of his backpack, he asked, "Uncle, did you see my big brother’s little red flower? Pretty, right?"
The man nodded.
The Second Child lifted his chin proudly. "I’ll have one today too."
"Oh?" The man raised an eyebrow. "Where is it?"
"At the teacher’s place for now." With that, the Second Child confidently adjusted his backpack and hurried off.
The school didn’t have many teachers, and most juggled multiple classes across different grades.
For instance, Zhou Zedong’s homeroom teacher was also his younger brother’s Chinese teacher.
The brothers arrived early—the Second Child to play, but Zhou Zedong was different. He came to study.
A quiet, thin, and short boy in class, he barely drew any attention.
Yet this unassuming child consistently ranked first in every exam.
The two brothers were polar opposites at school.
So even if Zhou Zedong didn’t seek fame, it was inevitable.
Before, Zhou Zedong had been dark-skinned, scrawny, and short—some even said he looked like a monkey.
No matter how good his grades were, no one paid him much mind.
Many from neighboring villages even assumed his family was poor.
Until one day, his father dropped him off at school on a sleek motorcycle.
Only then did everyone realize—Zhou Zedong was a low-key rich kid.
From that moment, the gears of fate began to turn...
Not only did he arrive daily on that motorcycle, but he also started wearing stylish new clothes and carrying a fresh backpack. His complexion improved too.
Perhaps it was true what they said—fine feathers make fine birds. Almost overnight, Zhou Zedong became impossible to ignore.
Every move he made was watched. More and more girls approached him to discuss schoolwork.
But Zhou Zedong remained as reticent as ever. Even when spoken to, he responded with indifference, his demeanor icy.
Yet the colder he was, the more intrigued people became.
Today, seeing him standing at the entrance—waiting for someone, it seemed—instead of burying himself in books as usual, everyone was puzzled.
Zhou Zedong didn’t make friends. Aside from his younger brother, he avoided interaction.
So who could he be waiting for?
The answer came quickly.
The homeroom teacher approached, and Zhou Zedong immediately straightened up, walking over.
The teacher looked at him curiously. "Xiao Dong? Is something wrong?"
Zhou Zedong stopped, standing firm.
After a long pause, he spoke calmly.
"Teacher, I want to be the academic monitor."
The teacher: "?"
"But you’re already the class president."
Zhou Zedong: "Yes."
Teacher: "Then why do you want to be the academic monitor too?"
Zhou Zedong: "I just do."
The teacher scratched his thinning hair, baffled.
Zhou Zedong had changed a lot recently. His grades had always been stellar, but he’d never shown interest in student leadership before. Even when the teacher had suggested it, he’d ignored the idea.
To Zhou Zedong, time was reserved for studying and his siblings.
He had no interest in being class president—collecting homework, helping classmates—none of it appealed to him.
Years of hardship had convinced him the world was full of selfish people, so he might as well be the same.
But then, during the recent class president election, he’d raised his hand.
The teacher had been stunned.
When asked why, Zhou Zedong had given the same answer: "I just do."
At the time, the teacher had been pleased, thinking the boy was finally opening up.
Yet now, just two days later, he wanted to be academic monitor?
Perplexed, the teacher asked, "So you’re giving up being class president?"
Zhou Zedong glanced at him. "No."
"You want to hold both positions?"
Zhou Zedong nodded, his composed expression making the middle-aged teacher blink.
"Is that not allowed?"
The teacher hesitated. "Well, it’s not impossible... but won’t it be too much for you?"
"I can handle it."
Zhou Zedong added, "I can take on other roles too."
Then, as an afterthought: "Just remember to give me the little red flower."
With that, he turned and walked back to class, leaving the utterly bewildered teacher behind.
After finishing a lesson, the teacher mulled over whether to grant Zhou Zedong’s request as he headed to the first-grade classroom.
But as soon as he reached the door, he spotted another figure waiting.
Shorter than Zhou Zedong but with rounder cheeks, this boy lacked his older brother’s solemn maturity.
The teacher approached. "Xiao Han, why are you standing here? Class is starting."
Zhou Zehan immediately straightened up, looking at him eagerly. "Teacher, I want to be class president."
The teacher: "..."
What was going on with these brothers?
Zhou Zedong wanting the role was one thing—his grades justified it.
But Zhou Zehan, the perpetual underachiever, now wanted to be class president too?
Had he been provoked?
"Why do you want to be class president?"
Zhou Zehan answered innocently, "Because class presidents get little red flowers."
The teacher: "..."
If he recalled correctly, Zhou Zedong had also reminded him about the little red flower.
Were the brothers competing over who could collect more?
Was he now part of their game?
Teacher: ...
These days, the Lin Family’s pastries were selling well, and the mother-daughter duo had made a tidy profit.
The villagers watched with envy.
Many regretted dropping out when Si Nian had offered to teach them, put off by the expensive ingredients.
Now that the Lin Family was thriving, they were too ashamed to ask for lessons again.
Even if they wanted to, who would share a money-making secret?
Especially since Lin's mother and Zhou Suisui were frequent visitors to the Zhou Family home. The mouthwatering aroma of meat wafting from their house daily hinted at yet another lucrative skill being passed down.
Everyone knew Si Nian was a skilled cook. Rumors said she’d learned money-making techniques in the city.
First pastries, now meat dishes—she was clearly sharing everything with the Lin Family.
For anyone else, sourcing ingredients would be a hurdle. But the Zhou Family owned a pig farm. If the Lin Family wanted to start a meat business, they’d get supplies cheap—maybe even free.
No hassle at all.
Though neither Si Nian nor Lin's mother had confirmed anything, word had spread fast.
That day, Lin's mother and Zhou Suisui were carrying the marinated meat back home when they ran into quite a few curious villagers asking about it.
Neither of them hid the truth, as their daughter had advised—sooner or later, everyone would find out anyway, and keeping it a secret now would only invite malicious speculation.
Why not just tell them openly?
After all, not just anyone could start a marinated meat business.
Buying large quantities of meat alone was something most villagers couldn’t afford.
Not to mention Si Nian’s secret spice blend—without the right knowledge, no one could replicate the recipe.
By sharing the news openly, they were laying the groundwork for their future business, attracting potential customers from the village.
Nearly everyone in the surrounding villages bought meat from Zhou Yue Shen’s farm. Though people were reluctant to spend money, it was still a massive customer base.
When Lin's mother mentioned they were starting another business, envy rippled through the crowd.
But not everyone was happy about it.
The one burning with jealousy was Zhu's Sister-in-law's Mother-in-law.
Back when the pastry business was first mentioned, she had wanted her daughter-in-law to learn the craft, hoping to start their own venture afterward.
She had even gritted her teeth and sent a large basket of eggs to Si Nian as an apology.
But Si Nian accepted the gift and then casually brushed them off.
That had left a bitter taste in her mouth.
And now, hearing that the Lin Family was making money from the pastry business only made her angrier.
This time, Si Nian had taught her own relatives how to make marinated meat but couldn’t spare even a little help for the rest of the village.
With all that knowledge, she was keeping it to herself—how selfish!
As the crowd dispersed, she couldn’t resist sneering, "Oh, so she said she’d teach the whole village, but in the end, it’s only her own family who benefits!"
Her words stirred discomfort among some of the listeners.
A few even considered approaching Si Nian again to ask for lessons—after all, she had promised to teach them before.
Conveniently forgetting that when she had offered, they’d backed out because the ingredients were too expensive.
Still, only a handful actually supported the idea. Most believed that business wasn’t so easy to pull off.
The Lin Family’s success was only because of the Zhou Family’s backing.
Without someone like the Zhou Family helping them, how could they just start a business out of nowhere?
Hadn’t it been the same when Zhou Yue Shen first opened his pig farm? Everyone was envious, everyone wanted to copy him—but in the end, no one succeeded. Instead, they lost everything.
With that lesson fresh in their minds, few dared to try again.
Seeing that hardly anyone agreed with her, Zhu's Sister-in-law's Mother-in-law grew even more resentful, convinced the whole village had been brainwashed by Si Nian.
On her way home, she happened to run into Wang Cui, the wife of Uncle Lin (eldest). Her eyes lit up immediately.
They’d met a few times before—after all, there was only one main road to town, and everyone exchanged a word or two on market days.
She struck up a conversation, steering it toward the topic.
When she learned that Uncle Lin's Family knew nothing about the new business, she seized the chance to twist the knife.
"If she won’t teach us, fine—but she won’t even teach her own uncle’s family? She’s just hoarding the knowledge, letting her own relatives get rich while keeping everyone else in the dark!"
As expected, Wang Cui’s expression darkened.
Their family had always been better off than the second branch—fewer mouths to feed, plus the grandparents’ favoritism meant they got the best land and house, leaving scraps for the second son’s family.
Yet now, after the second branch married into the wealthy Zhou Family from Happiness Village, they’d shot up like sparrows turning into phoenixes.
Not only did they not have to repay the stolen 3,000 yuan, but they’d even spent money sending Lin Xiao to get a driver’s license—to become a truck driver!
In these times, drivers were rare, let alone truck drivers. It was a goldmine of a job!
Uncle Lin's Family had a son and a daughter—Lin Xue, who prided herself on her looks and hadn’t married yet, and Lin Wei, 17, lazy and unmotivated, with no marriage prospects.
Wang Cui had worried herself sick over it.
Their family was comfortable, but only because they had land.
The two children had been raised by their doting grandparents, and with Wang Cui’s own family running a small shop in town, they’d always favored the eldest branch.
In contrast, Lin's mother had no family backing. The second son had married her against his parents’ wishes, so the in-laws had never treated them well.
When the second son married, they were practically kicked out—given a run-down house and a few barren plots, while the eldest kept nearly everything.
Still, the second son was hardworking. Despite the larger family, they managed to scrape by.
Their daughter had grown up beautiful and studious—already a thorn in Wang Cui’s side.
Then came the scandal: Lin Sisi wasn’t their real daughter. Their biological child had been raised in the city and refused to come back.
Wang Cui had gloated—of course someone as outstanding as Lin Sisi couldn’t be the dull second son’s child. And now their real daughter wouldn’t even acknowledge them? How pathetic.
If she wouldn’t claim her own parents, she couldn’t be any good.
But just when everyone thought the second branch was doomed, their real daughter did return.
Not only was she stunningly beautiful, but she was also brilliant—winning over the richest man in the neighboring village and lifting her family out of poverty.
Who wouldn’t be jealous?
Especially Wang Cui, who had always lived better than them.
Now, watching the second branch thrive—their children in new clothes, using fancy city soaps—she couldn’t stand it.
They were family. How could they live so well and not share a bit? And now they were scheming to become business owners behind everyone’s backs?
Wang Cui wouldn’t stand for it.
If she could get this skill for her own children, they’d have a trade—something to secure a good marriage.
After Zhu's Sister-in-law's Mother-in-law’s prodding, she rushed home to discuss it with her husband. Both agreed the second branch was selfish.
They’d let the meat incident slide, but now this? Secretly making money again? Unacceptable.
They marched to the Lin Family with Lin Xue in tow, demanding that Lin's mother and Zhou Suisui teach them pastry-making and marinated meat.
Lin's mother refused.
She was gentle, but she wasn’t stupid.
This was her daughter’s livelihood—she wouldn’t just hand it over.
Wang Cui, used to getting her way, was furious. She dragged her mother-in-law into it for backup.
Arguments flared, and soon, the whole family was brawling.
Lin Xiao wasn’t home—only Zhou Suisui and Lin's father, who could barely walk.
In the chaos, Lin's mother suffered the worst of it.
