"Excuse me, what do you mean by 'bringing an adult'?"
The two little munchkins huddled together, their heads touching. Little Le'an squinted at the blurry words on the screen, utterly confused. Since she couldn’t hear what the system uncle was saying, she pressed the voice button and asked, "Can we talk? We’re too little to read."
On the other end, the merchant was questioning his life choices.
You can’t read, yet you’re telling me you want to bring an adult?!
Wait a minute—before sending the collaboration invite, they’d checked the account’s videos, which were clearly edited. That had to mean an adult was managing it. So why were they now hearing from two toddlers? Could they possibly edit videos themselves?
"Can you let your guardian talk to us?" the merchant replied via voice message. "This involves contract matters and requires an adult’s consent."
Little Le Jia knew what a guardian was. Their aunt had explained that she was their guardian, which meant they could ask her for anything—it was her responsibility.
But this time, they were the ones trying to bring her along to make money!
"So, is it settled?" Little Le Jia asked solemnly. "We want to bring our adult."
"Kids," the system interjected helplessly, "these advertisers want you because you’re cute. Your aunt has nothing to do with it."
Little Le'an piped up, "Auntie is pretty too! Like a princess!"
The merchant rubbed his temples, realizing how impossible it was to negotiate with children. "Even if you want to bring your guardian, she has to agree first. Can you give the phone to her, please?"
Then again, if these two were this adorable, their guardian probably wasn’t bad-looking either.
Wait—auntie?!
Le Qing had been waiting outside for the kids but grew impatient when they didn’t return. She walked in and asked, "Have you washed your hands?"
As soon as she opened the door, she spotted the two little troublemakers hunched over a phone, looking guilty. The moment they saw her, their little cowlicks shot upright.
"What’s going on?" Le Qing asked.
"Auntie, you’re the guardian. This uncle wants to talk to you. Add him on WeChat!" Little Le Jia stretched onto his tiptoes to hand her the phone, then patted her hand reassuringly. "Don’t worry, I already settled everything."
"…"
What could they possibly have "settled" with some stranger online?
Were they teaching him how to do TikTok hand waves?
Le Qing was skeptical about their internet habits and worried they might have stumbled upon a scam. But since her brother kept his phone locked tight, she could only listen to the recorded messages.
Something wasn’t right. She replayed them.
So these two were trying to earn money… and wanted to include her?
She stared at them, stunned. Logically, she knew the merchant’s "agreement" was just humoring childish whims. But the thought that her niece and nephew had already decided she was family—someone they needed to "bring along"—left her speechless.
Honestly, she didn’t deserve this.
Le Qing added the contact the merchant had sent, respecting the kids’ privacy by not snooping further. She handed the phone back. "I added him. Go eat first—I’ll handle the rest."
Only then did the children scamper off, reassured.
Just before leaving, Little Le'an—never one to keep secrets—peeked back through the doorframe. "Auntie, don’t worry! We won’t let you starve. This’ll make so much money!" She probably meant the tens of thousands in payment.
Le Qing’s emotions tangled. Here she was, stressing over debts, while these three-year-olds were already raking in cash.
Was this the power of gifted children?
But something still felt off.
Given the kids’ past video aesthetics, advertisers shouldn’t be throwing money at them this fast. Besides, she was the one editing and posting now. So how had they managed before she arrived? Aside from that one encounter with Lin Jian, she hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
Shaking her head, Le Qing decided to drop it. She had experience negotiating with brands and could handle a small ad deal easily.
Meanwhile, the siblings sat at the table, listening intently to their system uncle’s lecture.
"You’re too naive," the system chided. "Clothes were small change, but now you’re dealing with real money. If you start sharing it with Le Qing right away, what if she’s been acting this whole time?"
Little Le Jia pondered for a few seconds. "Then Auntie can act in TV shows."
The actors he’d seen weren’t half as good as her.
"…" The system sighed. "Look, you don’t need this money urgently. Use it as a test—see if she really has your best interests at heart or if she’ll take advantage of you."
Le Qing had sold her luxury items to save money, which suggested she was struggling. A few thousand dollars wasn’t pocket change for most people. And as the saying went, it was easy to go from frugality to extravagance—but hard to go back.
This could reveal her true character.
Though the kids already trusted their aunt, they knew the system meant well. So they obediently agreed—while sneakily glancing at Le Qing during dinner.
She noticed their stares and, recalling the earlier conversation, tightened her grip on her chopsticks. Casually, she asked, "Why did you want to include me?"
Amid the system’s frantic protests, Little Le Jia clumsily shoved a bean sprout into his sister’s mouth—his chopstick skills still needed work.
Little Le'an flailed. "Gege! The sprout’s coming out of my nose!!"
"Eat more so you grow taller. You’re shorter than me," Little Le Jia said calmly.
Le Qing couldn’t take it anymore. She intervened, separating the sprouts with a clean pair of chopsticks. "Both of you eat. Neither of you is as tall as me."
Little Le Jia puffed his cheeks but conceded defeat, devouring a whole bowl before declaring, "We can’t leave Auntie home alone. It’s not safe."
"What?!" Little Le'an gasped, whispering dramatically, "Does Auntie also sneak bad food and get tummy aches?"
Two pairs of eyes locked onto her.
Le Qing blinked. "What have you been sneaking?"
With finances tight, she rarely bought snacks, sticking to homemade meals and occasional candy treats.
"You stole food?!" Little Le Jia gasped. "Then why are you still so short?!"
"I did grow! I hit the table leg!" The little girl jumped off her chair, headbutting the table. "See?!"
Le Qing couldn't help but laugh, raising her hand to stop the little girl from bumping her head against the table again. Meanwhile, the little boy added fuel to the fire: "You weren’t smart to begin with, and now the table’s making you even dumber."
Sometimes Le Qing found it amusing how things had changed. When she first arrived in this world, the siblings had relied on each other for survival—the sister willingly ate less just to save money to redeem her brother, and the brother was willing to ruin his own image just to find a way back to protect his sister.
Now, free from those worries, the two had started bickering like any ordinary siblings.
It was noisy.
But for some reason, she didn’t feel like stopping them. Only when their argument veered completely off track—from debating who had a harder head to who could make a louder noise by banging the table—did Le Qing finally clear her throat and cut in. "Did Little Le'an not eat enough before?"
Little Le'an’s face flushed instantly. She clutched the hem of her dress and slumped onto the chair. "I was full."
Then, as if afraid of being misunderstood, she hastily added, "An’an doesn’t eat like that anymore."
"But you did before?" Le Qing propped her chin on her hand. "And it made you sick? When was that?"
Since coming to this world, aside from the time the child had a fever, neither of them had fallen ill. Now, aside from the siblings being slightly underweight, they were otherwise healthy.
Little Le'an hesitated, unsure how to explain. She didn’t want to compare the current Le Qing to the past version, but she also didn’t want to lie.
After a long pause, she mumbled, "When Gege wasn’t here… An’an was so hungry. There was cake in the fridge. It was really sweet, so An’an ate it. Then An’an had to go to the bathroom… and when Auntie came back, she gave An’an medicine."
So she had gotten diarrhea and then developed a fever?
Le Qing realized that by the time she arrived, the child was already feverish—likely dehydrated from the illness. Thankfully, she had come just in time.
The original owner of this body had sold the brother, breathed a sigh of relief, and run off to have fun, completely ignoring the little sister.
Before, the sister at least had her brother to take care of her. Now, she had no one.
And given the original owner’s habit of never opening the fridge, that cake had probably gone bad.
A chill ran down Le Qing’s spine at the thought. She frowned slightly. "From now on, if you want to eat something, tell me first. I’ll make it for you, okay?"
Even though she regularly cleaned out the fridge, kids’ stomachs were delicate.
If it had been the old Le Qing, Little Le'an wouldn’t have believed her. But now, she lifted her head from the chair. "Even… little cakes?"
Before Le Qing could answer, her brother cut in. "No."
Little Le Jia immediately switched to their "secret talk" mode—holding a bowl in front of his mouth while loudly "whispering," "Did you forget? Her mountain is empty!"
Le Qing had heard this phrase several times today and hadn’t understood it until now. In context, she realized they meant "sitting idle and eating away one’s resources."
"Oh, right!" Little Le'an quickly covered her mouth. "Little cakes cost money. I’ve had them before—they’re worth lots of little breads!"
Auntie had taken her to a bakery once!
She flailed her arms, hastily retracting her words. "Auntie, An’an doesn’t want any!"
Le Qing didn’t respond. Instead, she set down her chopsticks, walked over, and picked up the little girl, who had been struggling to climb onto the chair by herself the whole time.
No matter how much the two tried to hide it, she could piece together the truth from their words. They thought she was running out of money—that’s why they wanted to go to work with her, wasn’t it?
But Le Qing still didn’t understand. She had never mentioned being short on money in front of them.
This was her own problem, not theirs. Even if she didn’t buy them snacks, she still made sure they ate balanced meals.
She could cut corners on her own expenses—she couldn’t afford luxury brands, but she didn’t skimp too much on the kids. The money from photoshoots and selling secondhand items was all spent on them.
So where had they gotten the idea?
They’d even learned to use half of an idiom like "sitting idle and eating away one’s resources."
"My mountain isn’t empty," she said calmly, pausing before adding, "What I mean is, I’ll do my best to give you what you want."
[Weird, why did I use baby talk?]
Little Le'an tilted her head, noticing Le Qing’s slightly reddened ears. She blinked.
She knew—this was embarrassment!
"You want cake?"
Until now, Le Qing had been raising the two children by the same standards she used for herself. Only now did she realize that no matter how well-behaved kids were, their childish nature still existed—they just held back for the sake of the adults.
They were only three years old.
What was there to hold back for?
A sudden fear gripped Le Qing—what if the two were too obedient? What if, because of her inexperience, she overlooked their feelings, and in this short time, unknowingly molded them into versions of herself?
The thought startled even her.
"From now on, I’ll let you have it," she said. "What flavor do you want?"
This stumped the siblings.
At most, Little Le'an had eaten cake twice. As for Little Le Jia? He hadn’t even dared to take a proper bite of the one bought at the café last time, and the few hurried mouthfuls he’d taken had long since faded from memory.
So, in unison, they answered, "The yummy kind!"
"…Alright."
Le Qing was someone who liked planning things out. But now she realized that while she could make do, the children were different. They would leave her one day and lead brighter lives, enjoying better things.
And she didn’t want to strip away their innocence in this short time they had together.
She glanced at her remaining balance after deducting savings. She could splurge—but doing it too often wasn’t wise.
But children grew up every day. So after some thought, she decided to buy ingredients and learn to bake cakes for them herself. It would save money, and there’d be plenty of variety.
True to her word, the next day she bought all the necessary materials following online tutorials.
The two siblings sat on their little stools as usual, necks craned in anticipation, mini cameras hanging around their necks like tiny Nezhas.
Le Qing rummaged through a pile of clutter and pulled out a package. After carefully unwrapping it, she examined the contents without turning around. "Before I agree to take this ad job, we need to test the product for a few days."
Little Le Jia raised his hand. "What’s a ‘prodick un-un’?"
Since he didn’t understand, he just mimicked the sounds.
"It means checking if this thing is good and safe to use." Le Qing pulled a bottle from the packaging, then paused. Slowly, she pulled out two… baby bottles.
"I’ve seen these!" Little Le'an chimed in eagerly. "I know how to use them! You sip-sip water!"
Back when Auntie didn’t know how to feed them water, she’d put it in these. When she and her brother were hungry, they’d just "sip-sip" from them.
"These are for sipping milk." Le Qing picked up another container, scrutinizing the ingredients before double-checking the inspection sheet the company had sent.
It was formula milk even older kids could drink—perfect for supplementing the siblings’ nutrition right now.
"I’ll make some for you," she said. "Try it first, then tell me how it tastes, okay?"
"Why do we have to drink it?" Little Le Jia was more fixated on when they'd get the money. "We only get paid after filming."
"Because you need to take responsibility for the ad you're shooting," Le Qing turned around. "Later, many children might see this commercial and trust your recommendation to buy this milk powder. If we film something bad, your image will suffer."
Too profound.
At this moment, Little Le Jia truly understood how difficult it was to have an aunt who always reasoned with him.
He hadn’t even gone to school yet! He couldn’t grasp these explanations!
But he did understand responsibility—it meant being good to those kids.
"I’ll be good to them!" he promised.
"Le Jia." Le Qing realized that the little ones were unusually preoccupied with making money. If they cared too much about money before developing a proper sense of right and wrong, it could be problematic. So she said, "No matter when or what the situation is, it’s fine to earn money, but it must be through the right means—doing the right thing. Understand?"
Little Le Jia caught the second half.
Right and wrong were the simplest concepts he knew.
For some reason, he felt he should take this seriously now, so he nodded obediently. "Got it."
The system in his mind stayed silent, instead casting a complicated look at Le Qing, who was busy preparing milk.
If Le Qing genuinely cared for the two children, and if she could keep this up, maybe the future Jia Bao wouldn’t become that universally despised villain.
But would she really keep it up?
Le Qing had finished preparing the milk. She tested the temperature, pouring a little from each bottle to taste herself, ensuring it was safe before handing them over.
By now, the two little ones were practically vibrating with impatience. They grabbed the bottles and started gulping noisily.
Le Qing let out a sigh of relief. She’d seen how Little Le'an would recklessly shove scalding food into her mouth—these two had zero life awareness.
But…
She leaned against the kitchen island. "Didn’t you just have lunch? Are you that hungry?"
Three-year-olds had different appetites from infants—they could drain a bottle in just a few sips. But the siblings were practically inhaling it, as if they’d never had milk before.
Le Qing paused. "Haven’t you had this before?"
Two little heads shook in unison. In their memories, bottles were for water.
Le Qing frowned, mentally cursing the original owner of this body for being so neglectful, but she also made a note of what the kids needed.
[Aside from the cake, I’ll need to set aside extra money for their milk powder.]
"How does it taste?" she asked.
"Good!"
That was the full extent of their vocabulary!
Le Qing thought for a moment. "What’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten?"
Little Le'an didn’t hesitate. "Cake! Not the one that made my tummy hurt!"
Le Qing turned her head, unable to suppress a laugh. After a moment, she turned back with a smile and spread a sheet of paper in front of the two.
Since they loved sitting in the kitchen—whether playing with their talking pen or flipping through picture books—Le Qing had moved their little activity table there for convenience.
She crouched down, drawing a milk bottle, then a small cake. "The talking pen taught you how to count to ten, right?"
"Uh-huh."
Le Qing added a flower. "Then, from one to ten, decide how many flowers to give the cake and how many to give the milk—rate them."
This stumped the two little ones. They hunched over the table, deep in thought.
Le Qing didn’t rush them. This was supposed to exercise their thinking and focus—something she’d read in a parenting guide last night.
Seeing them absorbed in their task, she stood up and went back to preparing the cake ingredients.
The online tutorial made it seem simple. She figured she should start easy before tackling anything complicated.
Having grown up cooking for herself, Le Qing was confident a little cake wouldn’t defeat her.
She weighed each ingredient meticulously, even more focused than the two whispering siblings.
Clearly, rating cake and milk was much easier than baking.
Especially for kids this age—they were used to glancing up every now and then to make sure their aunt was still there. So after doodling the flowers, their minds started wandering again.
"Where’s Auntie?" Little Le'an chewed on the pen cap. "I wanna draw flowers for Auntie too."
Little Le Jia asked, "How many flowers does Auntie get?"
"Ten," Little Le'an answered without hesitation.
She bent down and drew two circles on the blank part of the paper. "This is Auntie’s head, this is her tummy."
"Wrong," Little Le Jia corrected her. "Auntie doesn’t have a tummy. Your head is bigger than the tummy."
He reached over to adjust his sister’s artistic interpretation of their aunt.
"Big eyes."
"But yours are bigger than the mouth!"
"So what? The people in videos have eyes bigger than their mouths!"
"Then yours are ugly!"
"Auntie’s legs are way longer than An’an’s."
"Why are you drawing hands? These look like a witch’s hands!"
After much piecing together, they finally "assembled" their aunt. Now came the flower-giving part.
They studied their "masterpiece" for a long, long time before falling into mutual silence.
For once, their sense of aesthetics aligned—and they guiltily added ten flowers to their aunt’s portrait.
"Don’t let Auntie see this," Little Le Jia said with absolute certainty. "Or you won’t get any cake."
For the first time, Little Le'an wholeheartedly agreed with her brother. She stealthily tucked the paper under the table.
Le Qing was too absorbed in her task, and she was used to the siblings chattering behind her, so she didn’t notice their new creation. When she finally finished frosting the cake and turned around, she caught Little Le'an hiding something.
Worried she might be sneaking something inedible again, Le Qing raised an eyebrow. "What are you hiding?"
Little Le'an shot a glance at her brother.
Luckily, he was quick. He immediately stood up, clapping enthusiastically. "The cake’s ready!"
"Mm." Le Qing, who had never baked a cake for anyone before, was a little pleased. She bent down to set the cake on the table and pulled up a small stool to sit. "Looks decent."
Almost like the ones from a bakery.
She sliced the cake into small pieces. "Try it."
Since she made it herself with safe ingredients, they could eat as much as they wanted.
The two little ones couldn’t wait. Before their aunt could even hand them a piece, they grabbed slices and stuffed them into their mouths, trying to be polite while chewing. "Thank you, Auntie… yuck!!!"
Le Qing, who had just brought a piece to her own lips: "?"
Realizing what she’d done, Little Le'an clapped a hand over her mouth. "No, no, I… yuck!!!"
Little Le Jia frowned at his sister’s behavior. "That’s not mann—yuck!!!"
Impressed by how convincingly they could gag at such a young age, Le Qing was deeply moved—and then took a bite herself.
Half a second later, she joined the chorus.
"Yuck!"
Mei Bao looked on the verge of tears, her eyes red as she asked, "Are none of the cakes at home edible?"
Little Le Jia stared blankly, resigned. "Did Auntie see the drawing we made?"
"What drawing?" Since the little one was busy gagging, Le Qing finally noticed what she had been hiding. She snatched it over and saw it—a figure with eyes bulging like giant bronze bells, limbs as long as tangled hair, resembling some nightmarish demon.
She and the two cautious children fell into a silent stare-off.
Then, one after another, they all started gagging uncontrollably.
Oh no, they’d made Auntie vomit in rage!
