Lin's Father was at his wit's end, nearly tempted to kick this brat straight into the wall. Grabbing him by the ear, he scolded, "You little rascal! What decent words could possibly come out of that foul mouth of yours? Do you really think anyone would care about the nonsense you spout?"
"Why not?" Lin Shengxi dodged, grinning. "Who knows, maybe there’s some fate involved here! Honestly, I think this treasure even looks a bit like Brother Jiang!"
The whole spectacle left Lin's Father utterly embarrassed. With a headache brewing, he kicked the boy away and turned back with an apologetic smile. "He’s been spoiled rotten since childhood. Please don’t take it to heart."
Though technically a senior by family ties, Jiang Suizhi had only been brought back to the Jiang family a few years prior. The emotional bond wasn’t deep, and given his ruthlessly decisive methods—far more intimidating than his elder brother’s—few dared to play the "seniority" card around him.
Not that he’d acknowledge it anyway.
Compared to Lin Shengxi’s antics, Jiang Suizhi remained as detached as an outsider, not even lifting an eyelid as he replied indifferently, "It’s fine."
The banquet hall had quieted the moment Jiang Suizhi appeared. Guests stole glances at him, but very few dared approach.
Lin's Father, a seasoned fox, knew exactly why.
Unlike the gentle and polished Jiang Yan of the past, Jiang Suizhi rarely made public appearances after taking over the conglomerate. Many were curious about him but had no way to dig deeper.
Tonight’s dinner was an exception—Jiang Suizhi had attended out of respect for their families’ long-standing ties, and the guest list was kept tight.
For someone so young to command such silent deference was a testament to his shrewdness.
Knowing some of his quirks, Lin's Father gestured to a quieter corner. "Let’s sit here and talk."
Without even removing his coat, Jiang Suizhi ignored the surrounding stares and took a seat. "Mm."
"Suizhi, it’s rare to see you." Lin's Father handed him a glass of wine. "I’ll cut to the chase—I have a favor to ask."
Jiang Suizhi accepted the glass but didn’t drink, merely holding it. "Go ahead."
"You saw it yourself earlier—that boy of mine has never listened to discipline. His mother and I can’t get through to him anymore." Lin's Father sighed. "He’s not inherently bad, but the people around him have inflated his ego. We’ve turned a blind eye for too long, but this can’t go on. His sister’s already washed her hands of the company. We can’t afford to have no successor."
Jiang Suizhi swirled the wine, silent.
"So today, I’m swallowing my pride to ask you—for the sake of our families’ past ties—to take him under your wing for a while." Lin's Father waved a hand. "I’ve seen your capabilities over the years. He’ll learn something from you, even if it’s just fetching tea or sweeping floors. I won’t interfere."
He waited anxiously for Jiang Suizhi’s response. As far as he knew, Jiang Suizhi kept no close aides. While other executives always had assistants or secretaries in tow, he attended events alone. Did the man have three heads and six arms?
This very aloofness made him impossible to read.
After a long pause—just as Lin's Father was about to change the subject—Jiang Suizhi finally set the glass down. "Fine. I need an assistant. Have him report tomorrow."
Even Lin's Father was taken aback. Jiang Suizhi was offering his son the assistant position? Did he trust others so easily? He wouldn’t even take a sip of wine handed to him.
Under normal circumstances, Jiang Suizhi would never have agreed.
But since taking over the conglomerate, he’d thoroughly investigated the Jiang family’s connections. The Lin family were old allies, and he’d heard much about them from his brother. They were worth maintaining ties with.
Moreover, Lin Shengxi was Lin Jian’s younger brother. During his own years of hardship, she had helped him. All things considered, this favor wasn’t much to ask.
Besides, he’d been meaning to hire an assistant lately—he had other matters to attend to. As for his private life, he always kept it strictly separate.
---
The next day, Lin Shengxi arrived at the Jiang Corporation looking like he’d aged several years overnight. Yawning, he slouched into Jiang Suizhi’s office and muttered, "Bro."
His sister had warned him: in brains, he was no match for Jiang Suizhi; in fists or family influence, even less so.
When it was time to bow, he’d better bow.
Still, Lin Shengxi refused to believe Jiang Suizhi would actually entrust him with anything important. If he did, Lin Shengxi would make sure Jiang Suizhi learned firsthand that iron was hard for a reason.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, he drawled, "So, what’s the plan for today?"
The moment the words left his mouth, a folder landed in front of him. The man behind the desk lifted his gaze slightly.
Lin Shengxi had deliberately skipped formal wear today, opting for his usual playboy attire—flashy chains and all—hoping Jiang Suizhi would find him unbearable and kick him out.
To his surprise, the man across from him didn’t even seem to notice his outfit. His eyes didn’t linger on Lin Shengxi’s face for more than two seconds, as if the file in front of him held far more importance.
"I hear you have an extensive social circle," Jiang Suizhi remarked calmly.
Lin Shengxi straightened slightly. "You could say that."
After all, his nights out weren’t just for fun—he knew people from all walks of life.
Jiang Suizhi nodded. "Review the documents. This is your assignment for the near future."
What kind of task involved his social connections? Surely he wasn’t being asked to negotiate business deals?
Baffled, Lin Shengxi opened the folder—and froze.
Inside weren’t corporate secrets or contracts, but details about Jiang Yan’s social circle.
Compared to Jiang Suizhi, he was far more familiar with Jiang Yan.
"Brother Yan?" Lin Shengxi frowned. What was this about? If it were a power struggle, the man was already dead—no threat left. Why dig into his affairs?
And wasn’t Jiang Suizhi Jiang Yan’s legitimate younger brother anyway?
Curious, he flipped through the pages. The documents listed fragments of Jiang Yan’s interactions—mostly with women—and even clarified ambiguous relationship chains that weren’t publicly known.
"Bro, what’s the meaning of this?"
Jiang Suizhi replied, "Find out who Jiang Yan was involved with in the past."
"!!!"
"Wait, what?!"
"Is it difficult?"
"With some digging, there should be leads. But why look into this?"
"Just do it. Keep it low-key until you have answers. Let me know if you need anything."
Given Lin Shengxi’s years of mingling in elite circles, this reeked of juicy gossip. Frankly, if this was the job, he was wide awake now!
"Bro, don’t worry." Grinning, he hugged the folder. All thoughts of slacking off vanished. "Consider it done!"
"Unless necessary, stay close." Jiang Suizhi finally looked back down at his work. "It’ll satisfy your father."
"Do I have to clock in?"
"Do as you please."
"!!!"
Jiang Suizhi continued flipping through the documents without pause: "But I want results as quickly as possible."
At this moment, Jiang Suizhi’s image in Lin Shengxi’s mind grew immensely tall. In Lin’s perception, someone who could bring the entire Jiang family to heel in such a short time must be a force of nature—more rigid and old-fashioned than Jiang Yan of the past.
Yet he never expected Jiang Suizhi to be so unpredictable.
No wonder he was so good at handling people. Lin Shengxi, for one, was thoroughly handled.
"Don’t worry, Sui-ge. My connections are no joke!"
Jiang Suizhi gave a noncommittal hum. "Don’t disturb me at other times."
Lin Shengxi immediately grabbed a chair and headed out. "I’ll make the calls outside."
Only after the other man left did Jiang Suizhi finally stop what he was doing. He removed his glasses, gently rubbing the frames as memories from years ago surfaced.
Most outsiders believed the Jiang family had sought him out only after Jiang Yan’s death, but that wasn’t the case.
Long before that, Jiang Yan had been the first to find him. It was then that Jiang Suizhi learned he had an older brother—one who seemed impossibly out of reach.
Back then, he’d been full of stubborn pride, vowing never to take a single cent from Jiang Yan and refusing to return to the Jiang family.
Jiang Yan never got angry. That man seemed incapable of anger. In the beginning, whenever he was turned away, he’d just chuckle and drive off, shamelessly waiting outside Jiang Suizhi’s school or part-time job like it was nothing.
Eventually, worn down, Jiang Suizhi let him inside. Jiang Yan squeezed onto the narrow sofa without complaint, chatting about mundane things—sometimes, after a drink, even venting about the hypocrisy of high society.
But back then, Jiang Suizhi didn’t understand the burdens of an elite family. He’d only sneered, "You could always walk away."
Jiang Yan would just smile and say, "You’re still young. You’ll understand someday."
Jiang Suizhi had never met someone so full of contradictions. A man who held immense power yet could shed his expensive suits after work, steal Jiang Suizhi’s ratty T-shirts, and sit at street stalls eating skewers or ride bikes along the river.
Once, when Jiang Suizhi got into a fight during a part-time shift, Jiang Yan showed up and—without asking questions—rolled up his sleeves and joined in. They both ended up in a police station, where Jiang Yan unabashedly declared, "I side with family, not fairness."
That night, staring at Jiang Yan’s usually pristine face now smudged and scratched, Jiang Suizhi asked, "The Jiang family never acknowledged me, and they never will. Why do you keep coming? You could’ve stayed the untouchable young master. We could’ve gone our whole lives without meeting."
They sat by the river, drinking. After a long silence, Jiang Yan asked, "What do you think the Jiang family is?"
"Is it the surname on countless property deeds? Or the people sharing a mansion and a household registry?"
Jiang Suizhi had no answer—these were things he couldn’t even dream of.
Jiang Yan tapped the cold beer bottle against the veins on Jiang Suizhi’s hand. "To me, it’s this. The same blood."
"If I’d found you that first day and you were just like the rest of them, I might’ve given you enough money to last a lifetime and never come back."
"Jiang Suizhi," Jiang Yan said, "I’ve never lacked family."
"Then what do you lack?"
"You." Jiang Yan grinned. "With you, I feel like an older brother—not Jiang Yan. Even if you haven’t admitted it yet."
That night, for the first time, Jiang Suizhi tentatively called him "Ge."
Jiang Yan fell silent for a long moment before clinking their bottles together.
Later, drunk, Jiang Yan laughed as he placed his broken glasses—shattered in the fight—on his younger brother’s nose.
"This suits you," he said. "Makes you look less intimidating."
Then, quieter: "Jiang Suizhi, if possible, I hope you never step into that house. That way, you’ll always stay you."
Jiang Suizhi, who usually couldn’t stand being touched, suppressed a shudder as he peered through the cracked lenses at this man—finally seeing the real him.
They ended up sleeping by the river all night, both catching colds.
"This is good," Jiang Yan said the next morning, reeking of alcohol as he straightened his wrinkled suit. "You not going back is good. At least I’ll always have a place to be myself."
After that, they maintained their routine. Jiang Yan visited occasionally, acting like any ordinary older brother while teaching Jiang Suizhi things he’d never learned. He stuffed Jiang Suizhi’s closet with hideously ugly T-shirts, insisting they share them—how a man with his taste in business had such atrocious fashion sense was a mystery.
In return, Jiang Suizhi started leaving a light on when Jiang Yan worked late, even buying a foldable bed for the cramped living room.
They’d talk through the night, and Jiang Yan shared stories—about his past, and about the woman he loved.
He said he was in love, but given his position and the family’s complications, he couldn’t let the Jiangs know about her yet. "I need to be stronger first."
Jiang Suizhi had never seen Jiang Yan so tender. Every mention of her made him smile.
"You have to come when we get married," Jiang Yan said. "It won’t be long now."
But that day never came. The woman left.
Jiang Yan withered away, hollow-eyed and drowning himself in alcohol during visits.
"Jiang Suizhi," he once slurred, "I don’t want to be Jiang Yan anymore."
"I can’t find her."
"Save me."
But Jiang Suizhi knew nothing about the Jiang family. He had no way to save him. "I’ll help you look," was all he could offer.
Jiang Suizhi wasn’t Jiang Yan. He had no connections, no wealth.
Jiang Yan became a shadow of himself—searching for her while silently reclaiming control of the conglomerate. His smiles lost their warmth, yet he never once asked Jiang Suizhi to return to the Jiang family.
Then one day, Jiang Yan called, voice trembling with excitement: "I found your sister-in-law! And—"
"And?"
"She’s pregnant! You’re going to be an uncle!" Jiang Yan laughed. "I’m bringing them home."
"What about the Jiang family?"
A pause. "We are the Jiang family."
Jiang Suizhi didn’t ask who "we" referred to.
Jiang Yan promised to visit right after fetching her, so Jiang Suizhi could meet them first—let the unborn child recognize its uncle.
Jiang Suizhi, who’d never been an elder before, panicked. He paced his tiny apartment before foolishly buying piles of baby clothes and toys, then cooked a feast in preparation.
He waited until dark. Jiang Yan never came. No calls, no messages.
The food grew cold. He reheated it. Eventually, he threw it all away.
Jiang Yan never returned.
It wasn’t until the third day that a crowd gathered outside the small house. At the center stood a middle-aged man dressed in black, exuding an air of lofty arrogance.
Jiang Suizhi knew exactly who this man was—his biological father.
"Jiang Yan is dead." These were the first words his father spoke to him.
Jiang Yan had died on his way to pick up his new family. He had poured all his efforts into building a new home for the one he loved and his younger brother, yet he never made it through that door.
"You spent a fair amount of time with him, so at the very least, you’ve absorbed some of his ways," the father continued. "I’ve looked into your past. You went to university, and though your experiences are lacking, it’s not a major issue. The Jiang family cannot be without a son."
In that moment, Jiang Suizhi understood why this man had come.
Jiang Yan had once said he never wanted him to set foot in that household, yet here he was, breaking that promise.
This was the foundation Jiang Yan had built with his own hands—the new Jiang family, left to him.
And so, he couldn’t let anyone else take it away.
Not only that, he had made a promise—to find Jiang Yan’s wife and unborn child, whom he had never met.
It was only later that Jiang Suizhi learned everything Jiang Yan had endured alone. Countless sleepless nights were spent barely grasping the operations of the conglomerate. He had to wear glasses just to appear, as Jiang Yan had once said, "like an adult." Only now could he finally fulfill his vow—to bring home the family he had never met.
By his calculations, the child should be three years old now.
A rare surge of emotion coursed through him, leaving every inch of his bones prickling with restless tension. His fingers dug into the desk, knuckles whitening. Without his glasses, his eyes darkened with an almost predatory intensity, his breathing growing heavier.
Just then, Lin Shengxi walked in after finishing a phone call. "Suizhi—"
"Get out." The sharp command cut him off mid-sentence.
Lin Shengxi flinched at the sight of those fierce, bloodshot eyes and hastily retreated. "Alright, alright."
Something felt off, though. He hesitated at the door. "Are you... unwell? Should I call a doctor?"
"No." Jiang Suizhi’s fist clenched. "Just stay away."
"...Right."
Only after the door closed did Jiang Suizhi pull out a pill from the drawer and swallow it. A few minutes later, he put his glasses back on and called Lin Shengxi back in, as if the man who had nearly lost control moments ago no longer existed.
When Lin Shengxi re-entered, he did so cautiously, half-convinced he had imagined the earlier scene. Yet the lingering unease remained.
Was it his germaphobia acting up again? Had it gotten so bad that even someone entering his office triggered it?
These tycoons and their bizarre quirks...
Lin Shengxi couldn’t help but feel he was far more down-to-earth in comparison.
And the fact that Jiang Suizhi had regained composure so quickly—his self-control was downright terrifying.
"I made some calls," Lin Shengxi said, speeding up his words in case another episode struck. "Most people had no real connection to Yan. In our circles, he never kept close female company. He was... disciplined."
Jiang Suizhi said nothing, only stared at him in silence.
If Jiang Yan had let the world know about that woman, would they even need to investigate?
Yet Lin Shengxi somehow understood the unspoken demand in that gaze—If you don’t have answers, why are you here?
"Ahem." Lin Shengxi finally grasped why the elders spoke so highly of this man. The pressure he radiated was even more suffocating than his own sister’s. "But I did ask around outside our usual circles. One person mentioned Yan used to frequent a private restaurant—always alone, which was odd. The timeline matches the period in your records. I could look into others who visited around the same time?"
"Mm."
---
"For this settlement, you’ve earned a total of 35,400 achievement points," System Uncle announced, his voice cheerful yet tinged with an almost imperceptible gloom.
It was disheartening. After guiding these two little ones for so long, all they ever exchanged their points for were small treats like bread.
But the moment that woman appeared, their video likes skyrocketed with each upload. It was a blow to the system’s pride.
Before, when their points were meager, it could freely exchange items for them. But with larger sums, that was no longer possible.
Windfalls couldn’t just materialize—it would raise too many questions.
Like when Le Qing had asked where the children got the money after receiving new clothes.
So the system’s rules dictated that once points crossed a certain threshold, they could no longer be converted into tangible goods. Instead, the children would be given equivalent opportunities to earn the money in the real world.
The higher the points, the more valuable the opportunity.
All their previous savings had barely been enough to secure the chance encounter with Lin Jian, where their photos earned them a small payment.
Shaking off its melancholy, the system said, "Let me search for a suitable opportunity."
The two little ones, currently seated on small stools helping their aunt pluck bean sprouts, blinked in confusion.
"Thirty-five what?" Little Le Jia had no concept of such a large number, though the endless stream of red digits on the phone screen was impossible to miss.
"It means a lot," the system explained. "If you complete this opportunity, the money you earn should be enough for a better kindergarten."
The children knew about kindergarten. Their aunt had mentioned that after studying with the talking pen, they’d start school in the summer. There would be teachers and other children there.
Auntie Lin had even said kindergarten required lots of snacks.
Did this mean their videos could now get them into a better one?
Little Le Jia frowned. "We’re not in a hurry for kindergarten yet."
"Didn’t your aunt teach you the phrase prepare for a rainy day?" the system chided gently. "She might be doing well now, but what if she changes her mind later? How would you go then?"
Little Le Jia pressed his lips together, struggling before finally muttering, "She wouldn’t..."
His voice lacked conviction, but deep down, he refused to believe it possible.
The system sighed heavily. It wanted to teach them not to trust blindly, yet the lesson felt too cruel—it would strip away their innocence.
"Then I’ll save the points for now. When you need them, we’ll use them. But you must never give them to your aunt, understand?"
Little Le Jia tugged at a bean sprout. "Okay. Thank you, Uncle."
Auntie had said the same thing. He didn’t think she’d take their money anymore.
He didn’t want to hear anyone speak ill of her either.
He wanted to prove his judgment right—that his aunt had truly changed.
So when Le Qing returned from hanging laundry, he scooted his stool closer to the door and looked up. "Auntie, can we really go to kindergarten?"
Le Qing stepped into the kitchen, pulling over her own stool to join them.
She’d noticed how the children loved sitting on either side of the kitchen, so she’d added a third stool for herself—a place to keep them company sometimes.
"Really." Knowing the two little ones lacked a sense of security, she nodded reassuringly. "I’ve already set aside your tuition separately."
Not only had she reserved their tuition, but she had also opened a new bank account, depositing the money left after selling her bags—aside from their living expenses—into it. This account would eventually be handed over to the two children.
However… although she had added Lin Jian on WeChat that day, it seemed Lin Jian had just finished her photography exhibition and had no immediate plans for new shoots. So, apart from the photos taken during their gathering, she currently had no other source of income.
She had sorted and meticulously retouched all the photos she took for the influencers and had just finished sending them out today. She wasn’t sure if there would be any follow-up collaborations.
Sitting around waiting wasn’t an option—she needed to think of other ways to make money. Since her appearance hadn’t changed since arriving in this world, she considered taking a few sets of photos of herself and trying her luck as a model.
[If I don’t start earning soon, I’ll really be eating into my savings. If I can’t even afford to raise the two kids, how can I even think about repaying my debts?]
Little Le'an noticed her aunt spacing out and caught glimpses of her thoughts. Though she didn’t understand what "eating into savings" meant, she recognized the words "debt" and "making money."
She had seen similar thoughts in many people’s minds before.
Was Auntie really short on money?
Yes, Auntie was definitely short on money.
She still needed to earn money to buy snacks for her and her brother and send them to kindergarten.
Nodding to herself, she decided she should talk to her brother about bringing Auntie along to earn money—maybe by collecting bottles.
Meanwhile, the system handed Little Le Jia the opportunity it had exchanged for him.
"A small advertising shoot," the system said. "Someone from the backend will send you a collaboration invite, and I’ll read it out for you."
Little Le Jia nodded seriously. With this chance to earn money and his sister’s mind-reading ability, the siblings had always been able to tell good people from bad, so they’d never been taken advantage of.
While Auntie was washing bean sprouts, he whispered to his sister about their new money-making plan.
"Brother," Little Le'an tugged at his sleeve, swaying back and forth. "Can’t we really bring Auntie along? She’s working so hard too."
Little Le Jia had always been reluctant to share their money-making methods before, but now he hesitated.
"Auntie doesn’t have a job," Little Le'an fretted. "The mountain is going empty."
Unaware of the big plans the two were discussing, Le Qing turned around and smiled. "Why are you still sitting there? Go wash your hands. Dinner will be ready soon."
Little Le'an sighed dramatically. "Auntie is so poor, but she still smiles at us. Just like on TV."
She mimicked a line she’d heard: "'Auntie isn’t hungry, you eat'—that’s how it goes, right?"
Little Le Jia lowered his head, empathizing deeply. He’d said the same thing to his sister when they only had one small bun to share.
Auntie had filmed videos for them and bought them mini treats—he couldn’t be a bad kid.
"Mm!" He nodded firmly. "We’ll take her with us to earn some money!"
The system, currently reading out the business collaboration messages from the backend: "…"
Before it could even think of how to dissuade them, Little Le Jia pulled his sister out of the kitchen. The two huddled in the bathroom and sent a voice message to the business account.
"Hello," Little Le Jia said solemnly, sitting upright like a responsible breadwinner. "Can we bring an adult with us?"
The confused reply from the other end: "?"
What kind of topsy-turvy request was this?!
