◎Mind Your Words◎
No wonder they're so thin—how can they eat stuff like this?
Jiang Suizhi's inner scale tilted slightly once more. He needed to find a way to ensure the two kids could eat better without him having to show himself.
Honestly, even during the toughest years of Jiang Suizhi's life, he had never eaten anything this unpalatable. At least back then, the food was edible.
But now, these little biscuits were being carried around by the children as gifts.
Unthinkable.
This was no different from Jiang Yan trying to pass off those tacky T-shirts he scavenged as presents.
After forcing down the remaining biscuit with great difficulty, Jiang Suizhi crumpled the empty wrapper in his palm. A second later, he stared blankly at his own hands.
It was so bad that… his body didn’t even react anymore.
In a way, that counted as a "miracle cure."
Just as he was about to toss the wrapper away, he turned his head and saw three faces pressed neatly against the car window.
Thanks to the privacy film, outsiders couldn’t see inside, but those inside could see out perfectly.
Though Lin Shengxi was a bit of an airhead, his physical strength was impressive—holding one bundled-up child in each arm, their little faces squished against the glass, eyes wide as they tried to peek inside.
Their tiny hands cupped over their eyes, looking just like Sun Wukong from the cartoons he watched as a kid.
What were they doing?
Especially the little girl—after burying herself in the snow and getting pulled out, her hat had fallen off, leaving her hair sticking up like an electrocuted kitten. Jiang Suizhi even wondered if she’d been zapped by static.
How could a child’s hair defy gravity like that?
He put his mask back on and rolled the window halfway down. "What are you—"
A small hand shot through the gap, waving excitedly. "He moved! The uncle’s not dead!"
The tone sounded downright relieved.
"……"
"Uncle Lin, this uncle isn’t that weak."
Little Le Jia patted his chest reassuringly. Earlier, Uncle Lin had said this uncle might have a weird illness and could die after eating the biscuit, which scared him and his sister.
Alive was good. Alive was very good.
Jiang Suizhi, now forcibly labeled as "frail," shot a frosty glare at the culprit, Lin Shengxi.
The latter grinned sheepishly. "I was just looking out for you, bro. See how kind they are? Clearly, they’ve got your family’s—"
"Did you borrow that mouth and need to return it ASAP?" Jiang Suizhi cut him off. "If you can’t speak properly, shut it."
What kind of person brings the kids to him and still acts like this?
The window was only halfway down—did he have some secret ailment? And here Jiang Suizhi thought he cared.
"Stay away from me," Jiang Suizhi added.
Before rolling the window back up, he paused. "Her firecracker… hair. Put her hat on."
"Sure thing."
Lin Shengxi finally noticed the child’s hair and chuckled. "Did you do your own hair?"
"Auntie did it!"
"Your aunt’s got skills, huh? Making biscuits and doing hair." Lin Shengxi couldn’t resist adding, "She’s done great. Tell her not to do it again."
The kids didn’t respond, but they silently agreed.
Auntie was perfect in every way—except for her baking.
And now she was dead set on mastering cake-making.
It was admirable, if not slightly hazardous to small children.
"You’re three years old, and she can’t even do your hair right." Lin Shengxi crouched down and undid her spiky ponytail, clicking his tongue. "When I was five, I was already fetching tea, carrying water, and braiding my sister’s hair. Here, let Uncle fix it for you!"
Braids!
Little Le'an stood obediently in front of him, head bowed.
She loved all of it! Adults had to choose—kids got everything!
The speaker might’ve been careless, but the listener took it to heart.
Jiang Suizhi stared through the glass at the child’s hair. The boy’s wasn’t as obvious, but the girl’s was downright messy.
If someone had truly cared for them for three years, it shouldn’t be this bad. The records showed she was great at dressing herself up, even now, though she looked plainer, she was still neat and tidy.
His thoughts drifted, but his gaze lingered on Lin Shengxi’s practiced movements.
Pulling out his phone, he snapped a photo.
If Le Qing couldn’t do it, then once the kids were with him, this would be his job.
He didn’t know how either—better prepare early.
With their hair freshly done, the siblings quickly forgot their earlier snow-burial woes, now happily playing with the braid-savvy uncle, running circles around the car.
Under Lin Shengxi’s guidance, they even started building a snowman on the vehicle.
"Can we build one?"
The two felt they should ask the uncle inside first.
"Of course! This is my car!"
Jiang Suizhi never revealed his private trips, especially when visiting the kids.
So today, they were using Lin Shengxi’s car—his most low-key one, no less.
For a guy in his twenties, his taste was oddly old-fashioned.
Luckily, Jiang Suizhi was generous, immediately transferring him enough for a new car. Getting paid without even transferring ownership? Lin Shengxi was thrilled to play chauffeur.
But he had to leave his mark. His playful nature extended to everything—he’d even brought snowman-making tools, now handing them to the kids.
Little Le Jia packed snow into a mold, pressing it down with his sister, then gasped. "It’s a duck!"
"I’ve got more molds." Lin Shengxi shaped a pig and, with petty revenge, plopped it on the roof above Jiang Suizhi’s head. "Go wild."
The kids eagerly made a row of ducks, copying their uncle by trying to place them on the car. But they were too short, settling for lining the hood with a tiny circle of snow ducks.
Yet after a while, Little Le Jia frowned. "These are snow ducks, not snowmen."
"We don’t have people molds," his sister mused.
Little Le Jia volunteered. "I’ll make you one!"
He was sure his snowman would be perfect.
His sister trusted him completely, squatting patiently as he worked.
Minutes later, she squirmed. "Stop making me, brother."
"Why?" Little Le Jia thought his spiky-haired creation was iconic—until he saw the "him" she’d sculpted. He fell silent. "Then you can’t make me either."
"But you like pointy faces!"
Hers was very pointy.
He did, but hers was… abstract.
So the siblings reached another unanimous decision: they’d sculpt their aunt instead! Last time, they’d drawn her too.
By the time Lin Shengxi finished decorating the roof and trunk with snow "masterpieces," he found the kids hunched over the hood, adding heads to their snowman.
"This is…?"
In unison: "Auntie!"
They had always held onto their initial belief, shaping the snowman with Little Aunt's long legs and big eyes. Though somewhat abstract, it at least vaguely resembled a person.
"...It feels a bit odd," Lin Shengxi bent down, muttering. "Like something's missing."
He instinctively glanced at the car. Since Jiang Suizhi hadn’t stepped out to stop them, it meant he tacitly approved.
Oh! Now he knew what was missing.
If they added one more person beside it, wouldn’t it look just like a wedding car?
Lin Shengxi felt a sudden urge to sculpt a snow version of Jiang Yan, but just then, a voice came from behind: "Why aren’t you wearing your hats?"
It was Le Qing, already in full makeup, checking on the two kids before the shoot.
He turned around and froze momentarily upon seeing her.
Lately, every time he’d seen Le Qing, she had been bare-faced, never bothering to dress up. So when his older sister mentioned inviting Le Qing for the photoshoot, his first thought was: She only has her face going for her—her vibe doesn’t fit.
But now, as he turned, he realized just how versatile Le Qing truly was.
In the past, she could amplify her most irritating traits to the extreme. More recently, she had adopted an aloof, indifferent persona. Yet now, she was entirely different.
As the saying goes, clothes make the man—or in this case, the woman. Though Le Qing still wore a puffer coat over her outfit, the black gown with gold accents peeked through, tailored for the shoot.
Her hair was elegantly pinned up, her makeup sharp and cold, complementing the outfit. Perhaps fueled by the energy of work, her demeanor had refined, embodying the poised aura of a high-fashion model.
Having mingled with countless beautiful influencers, Lin Shengxi shamefully admitted to himself: Had Le Qing approached him like this in the past, he might have tolerated her presence a little longer.
But then it hit him—no, this was Jiang Yan’s ex-girlfriend.
So Jiang Yan’s taste had always been ahead of its time!
"Wow!" The two little ones gasped at their made-up aunt, far prettier than the stern version they were used to.
"Auntie is the real princess!"
Le Qing had never been short of compliments on her looks, though her relationships with family and friends had always been distant. Accustomed to praise, she usually remained indifferent. But seeing the genuine admiration in the children’s eyes, she felt, for the first time, a flicker of confidence in her own appearance.
Pure, untainted appreciation.
She bent down slightly, noticing how neatly the little girl’s short hair had been braided—undoubtedly Lin Shengxi’s handiwork. Turning to him, she said softly, "Thank you."
Lin Shengxi rubbed his nose. "Just a quick fix."
"Auntie, let An'an look a little longer," Little Le'an pleaded, reluctant to cover her braids with a hat. "Just a little bit, then I’ll wear it, okay?"
Le Qing hummed in agreement, adjusting the child’s scarf. Midway, her gaze landed on the snowman nearby, and she paused.
"Let me guess—this is supposed to be me?"
She recalled the drawings the kids had made of her before, strikingly similar.
"Do you like it?" The children stood proudly on either side, showcasing their masterpiece. "We made it together!"
"Honestly," Lin Shengxi chimed in, "I think there’s a reason your aunt fed you those cookies."
"What cookies?"
"The ones in their pockets," Lin Shengxi replied, the memory of the taste making his head spin. "Don’t worry, I’ve lived a cushy life—a little hardship now and then is good for the soul."
"..." Le Qing’s expression blanked. "Were the cookies... not good?"
She hesitated. "I tried my best. At least no one ended up in the hospital."
"Your standards are impressively low."
Le Qing turned to the kids, who immediately bowed their heads guiltily. "We finished Auntie Pei’s cookies... so we gave the ones from Auntie to the uncles."
"Uncles? Plural?"
There was someone else besides Lin Shengxi?
"There’s a grumpy uncle in the car!" Little Le Jia pointed at the vehicle. "A really tall uncle."
"Ahaha!" Lin Shengxi quickly covered the boy’s mouth. "Just a friend of mine."
At critical moments, he could be surprisingly reliable. "A workaholic. Buried in his laptop."
"I’m so sorry," Le Qing apologized sincerely. "If you or your friend feel unwell later, let me know."
"No worries, we’re tough."
With the shoot about to start, Le Qing gave a few final reminders before leaving. As she turned, she noticed two lumpy child-shaped snow figures on the ground—likely the ones that had made her want to facepalm earlier.
Bending down, she picked them up and, ignoring the kids’ horrified protests, placed them beside her own snowman.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "There. Now it looks right."
"Auntie, no! Ours are ugly!"
Le Qing pinched their cheeks lightly. "It’s fine. Mine’s ugly too."
Only after returning to the shoot did she realize how childish that had been—something even her younger self wouldn’t have done.
Building snowmen was a luxury for children who were well-fed and warmly dressed.
In snowy weather, all she’d ever wanted was shelter.
Glancing back at the car filled with little rubber ducks, she suddenly felt, for the first time, like a real, living person.
"Stop spacing out," Lin Jian called, camera in hand. "Let’s get started."
The shoot wasn’t too far from the car.
Now, the three "children"—exhausted from play—huddled by the vehicle, watching the scene unfold.
The two little ones shivered in sympathy, tightening their coats. "Auntie must be freezing."
Even bundled up more than her, they still felt the cold.
Meanwhile, the man in the car seized the chance to study this unfamiliar woman openly.
He’d noticed Le Qing the moment she approached, observing her every move. If the rumors were true, Lin Shengxi should have held more significance in her eyes. Yet from start to finish, her attention never wavered from the children.
Gentle, yet distant.
Only when arranging the snowmen did a rare playfulness flicker in her gaze—a glimpse of the person Jiang Yan had once described.
Now, as everyone else in the snow remained bundled up, she stood alone in the white expanse, having shed her coat, like a solitary black swan.
Some people carried an innate elegance. No wonder Lin Jian couldn’t forget her.
But with skills like hers, she couldn’t possibly be a novice model.
Jiang Suizhi pulled out his phone, searching for "Le Qing," only to find no trace of any past commercial work.
Even with Jiang Yan’s protection, how could there be not a single image of her? A professional model with zero records?
His headache returned.
Before finding a solution to a problem, it would continue to weigh on his mind. Clearly, the matter concerning Le Qing had been bothering him for days now, and unlike the issues at the mall, he couldn’t find a way to resolve it.
Even compared to the two children whose situations were already clear, Le Qing had now become the biggest problem.
Meanwhile, the two little ones crouched outside the car were also troubled. They felt their aunt was working too hard and wanted to share some of her burden. Unfortunately, Aunt Lin Jian wasn’t filming them anymore.
Well, they weren’t as good-looking as their aunt.
If they could earn more money, maybe their aunt wouldn’t have to work so hard?
"Uncle System," Little Le Jia took out his phone and started counting the likes from yesterday’s video. "How much is this? Can we exchange it for something?"
A few seconds passed.
"Uncle System?"
"It’s not time for the settlement yet," the system replied. "You still haven’t used your last opportunity."
"Oh."
Little Le Jia asked again, "Uncle, how do people find us if we act in TV shows?"
"They’ll see your videos, like advertisements. If they think you’re a good fit, they’ll naturally reach out."
Of course, there would be some guidance from the system behind the scenes.
Determined to help his aunt earn money, Little Le Jia suddenly understood. His aunt had said he could film whatever he liked from now on, so he pointed his phone at her while she was working.
Clearing his throat, he announced, "Welcome, everyone! Today, we’re bringing you a super-duper special treat!"
Hearing this, Little Le'an recognized her brother’s words immediately!
Back when she used to watch him learn how to film videos, she’d seen this kind of introduction many times!
Lin Shengxi, standing nearby, couldn’t help but laugh. "What are you two doing? Starting a livestream?"
"Livestream?" The two children only knew how to record videos.
"Isn’t that what you’re doing?" Lin Shengxi leaned over to look. "Why else would you say ‘special treat’? That’s something people say during livestreams. And since you’re not selling anything, there’s no need for that."
"But we want everyone to see Auntie."
"Why?"
"Auntie needs work," Little Le Jia said sensibly. "If more people see her, she’ll get lots and lots of jobs."
Only then did Lin Shengxi remember that Le Qing had gone bankrupt and was in desperate need of money.
But he never expected these two kids to be so considerate, even going so far as to advertise for their aunt.
Truly, children from struggling families mature early.
At their age, he’d only been focused on surviving under his sister’s thumb.
Hah, this was a first for him.
He pointed to another part of the phone screen. "You need to tap this to interact with the audience in real time."
Interact?
The two children half-understood as they tapped the livestream button, and their faces immediately appeared on the screen.
Little Le'an finally got a good look at her little braids and happily spun in a circle.
[Whoa, what did I just stumble upon?]
[They’re alive! Moving little kids!]
[Little sister got a new hairstyle today! So cute—are they starting a livestream?]
[The camera’s shaking too much, I’m getting dizzy. Stop moving it around.]
The kids had discovered something new, but now they faced another problem—they couldn’t read!
Little Le Jia frowned. "Can’t understand. Don’t know the words."
[Let me guess, did these two start a livestream on their own? Lol.]
[Shh, don’t let the adults find out. Let’s watch secretly.]
Ever the one to join in on the fun, Lin Shengxi peeked into the frame. "What do you mean you can’t read? Want me to read it for you?"
Normally, Uncle System would read for them, but today, he couldn’t—people might notice something strange.
So the two kids had no choice but to trouble Uncle Lin.
Lin Shengxi pulled out his own phone and entered the livestream. Not for any particular reason, just to show a little support. With a flick of his finger, he boosted the kids’ livestream to the trending page.
[Damn, is Young Master Lin really switching to parenting content now?]
[Hard not to suspect if this is just another capital-driven stunt.]
[The internet’s all about fun—why take things so seriously? As long as I’m entertained, who cares what’s real or fake?]
[Wait, that guy who showed his face earlier looks just like Lin Shao.]
Lin Shengxi skimmed through the meaningless comments and leaned against the car, picking out the useful ones. "What do you two want to say?"
Oh!
Little Le Jia didn’t understand what the gifts were, so he ignored them. The important thing was their mission.
He turned the camera back toward his working aunt. "Welcome, everyone! Here’s today’s special treat! Does anyone want it?"
Little Le'an chimed in beside him, "Does anyone?"
[???]
[Wait, is this a legit livestream?]
[This is wild—are they really putting a person up for grabs?]
"Don’t mislead the audience," Lin Shengxi said, exasperated. "If you say it like that, people will think you’re selling your aunt!"
The two children immediately shook their heads like rattles. "No selling! No selling!"
"Then what are you trying to do?"
"Auntie needs work!" Their limited vocabulary made it hard to explain. "If lots of people see her, she’ll get jobs."
[LMAO, now I believe this is just two kids messing around.]
[If their aunt finds out, their butts are gonna get spanked so hard.]
"..." Lin Shengxi couldn’t take it anymore and decided to guide them properly.
"What does your aunt do?"
"Takes pictures!"
"Then say she’s a model. Talk about her strengths—oh, and she’s also a photographer."
The terms were too advanced, but the kids understood "strengths."
Little Le Jia steadied the shaky camera on his aunt. "Auntie is pretty! Takes pretty pictures too!"
The viewers, who had initially tuned in for the laughs, finally got a clear look at the woman the kids were talking about. Unlike the blurry footage from the hospital, this was daytime, and the quality was sharp.
In the distance, the woman posed professionally in front of another camera.
[So this really is a treat? drooling]
[I didn’t get a good look last time—you’ve been keeping this feast to yourselves?]
[I want it! Where’s the link? Put it up!]
[Am I seeing things, or does that photographer look like Lin Jian?]
[I was too scared to say it earlier, but are those two kids hanging out with the Lin siblings? With connections like that, why would they need help finding work?]
[I’ve been wondering—what’s the aunt’s name? How are people supposed to contact her without it?]
[Came for the laughs, but now I’m genuinely interested.]
"They’re asking for your aunt’s name," Lin Shengxi said.
"Le Qing. Auntie’s name is Le Qing."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the ocean, where the night was still young, people gathered in small groups to pass the time.
On a yacht drifting lazily across the sea, someone stared at their phone and chuckled. "This is hilarious. First time I’ve seen someone ‘promote’ their aunt like she’s a product."
A woman leaned against the railing beside him, her figure slender and her skin as fair as snow. Though it was nighttime, she wore a pair of sunglasses. When she heard the people next to her speaking, she merely curled her lips slightly without responding.
The blond man continued, "But this person’s aura really suits the camera. I’ll ask Lin Jian for her number another day. If she’s really looking for work, she can come try it out with us."
Another person chimed in, "What’s her name?"
"Le Qing?" the blond man recalled. "I think that’s it."
At those words, the woman, who had been resting her hand on the railing, tilted her head slightly. "What?"
"Le Qing," the blond man offered his phone. "Want to take a look?"
He was immediately smacked by the person beside him.
Only then did they remember—their companion couldn’t see. Even though she stubbornly insisted on living a normal life with everyone, no one could change the fact that she had been born blind.
Countless renowned doctors had been consulted over the years, but the outcome remained the same.
Still, this was the first time they’d seen her express even the slightest curiosity about a particular thing or person.
Because of her eyes, she had always been aloof, showing little interest in anyone.
"You know her?"
The woman tilted her head again, her sunglasses-shielded gaze seemingly turning toward the direction of the phone’s sound. Then she shook her head. "No."
"No worries. If we get the chance to collaborate, we’ll invite her to one of our gatherings. Then you can meet her."
The woman gave a slight nod before turning back to face the sea.
Compared to her earlier nonchalance, she now gazed vacantly at the ocean, the darkness around her only amplifying the wild pounding of her heart.
How strange.
Though she was Chinese, she had never been back to China. Why would a stranger’s name stir such a reaction in her?
Meanwhile, the livestream continued. Seeing the influx of viewers, the two children moved closer with the phone to give everyone a clearer view of their aunt’s condition.
But soon, the chat was flooded with unpleasant remarks.
[Is this Le Qing the same one Ye Yun mentioned? Are they the same person?]
[Let me see how many people came here from Ye Yun’s stream.]
Lin Shengxi naturally noticed Ye Yun’s name. He remembered her well—after their recent unpleasant encounter, she had privately reached out to him multiple times.
It was beyond annoying.
What nonsense was she stirring up now?
Since he still had to translate for the kids, he couldn’t leave the livestream just yet. After some thought, he knocked on the car window.
It rolled down almost immediately.
"Bro, can I borrow your phone for a sec?"
Jiang Suizhi, still wearing a mask, fixed him with a pair of dark, silent eyes. The answer was obvious.
Maybe reconsider whether that request was reasonable.
Lin Shengxi lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear. "The kids might’ve run into a little trouble with the livestream. I just wanna check what’s going on..."
An unlocked phone was handed to him.
Alright, now I know how to handle you next time.
Lin Shengxi opened the short video app and tapped the search bar, only to find a long list of recent searches—all for "Le Qing."
"..."
Anyone would think you were her ex, not me.
Muttering to himself, he searched for Ye Yun. Sure enough, she was also live at that moment.
Unlike the children’s fledgling account, Ye Yun had a massive following, and her streams drew crowds the moment they started.
He clicked in and saw that today’s broadcast was casual, with her chatting idly.
"I never thought she’d go into content creation too," the woman on screen said with a pitiable expression. "We’ve known each other for a year or two, and back then, she really disliked this industry."
"Why? Well, it’s hard to say."
"Her family was well-off, so maybe she thought it wasn’t suitable for her."
[So she’s a hypocrite?]
[Basically saying she looks down on content creators, right?]
[Wait, if you know her, why haven’t you interacted at all despite the kids and Le Qing blowing up lately?]
"We know each other, but we’re not close," Ye Yun replied. "I’m just an ordinary person. Getting to see her occasionally is already a lot. And now she’s finally getting the resources she wanted—good for her."
[What do you mean ‘finally’?]
"She knows a lot of people. I’m nowhere near the top of her list—no money, no influence. But she worked hard to build those connections, so she deserves her success." Ye Yun smiled faintly at the camera. "At every gathering, she was always so busy. I doubt there’s a single rich kid who doesn’t know her. Guess it’s her reward after all that effort."
[So fake.]
[Fake or not, I smell drama. Spill more.]
[What about Lin Shengxi and Lin Jian? Did she meet them the same way?]
"Probably," Ye Yun mused. "That day, she brought the two kids to one of Lin Shengxi’s parties. It was mostly young people there, and she said she was just the photographer. But then she showed up with children. Lin Jian seemed to like them and even babysat for a while. Not sure if it disrupted their friends’ time together. Lin Shengxi originally asked someone to take the kids away, but in the end, it didn’t happen."
"Though looking at it now, those kids really are adorable."
[As an aunt, why is she always dragging two kids around? Where’s their mom?]
"Their mom?" Ye Yun hesitated. "I’ve never heard anything about her. Actually, I’ve never heard Le Qing mention having sisters either. In the videos, isn’t it just her and the kids in one house? No sign of a father either. But that’s her private life, so who knows?"
[Wild theory: If she used to chase rich kids, maybe she hid having children by making them call her ‘aunt’?]
[Her luck only turned around after filming the kids, right? Without them, she wouldn’t have met Lin Jian or Lin Shengxi.]
[So now she’s putting them on camera more often?]
[Let’s be real, what three-year-olds film themselves that much?]
[I’m more curious about the dad. The kids don’t look much like Le Qing—must take after him. Bet he’s hot.]
[Here we go again with the rumors. Didn’t you learn from last time?]
Ye Yun chuckled. "I’m not spreading rumors. Everything I said is true. Anyone who knows people in the circle can confirm what Le Qing was like before."
Lin Shengxi gritted his teeth. "Troublemaker."
He typed exactly what he thought.
But since he was using Jiang Suizhi’s account, his comment vanished instantly into the flood of messages.
So he switched—logged into the kids’ stream with Jiang Suizhi’s account, then exited and entered Ye Yun’s stream with his own. Two bold, golden words floated prominently at the top of the screen.
Ye Yun’s smile froze. She straightened up abruptly. "Lin Shengxi? What are you doing here?"
The two little ones, having waited in vain for their uncle’s translations, tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Uncle, are you stopping?"
"Let’s take a break first. Your auntie is too popular—so many people are fighting over her, and I can’t keep up with all the messages," Lin Shengxi lied without batting an eye. "Go grab some cookies first. I’ll read more to you later."
Hearing this, the two kids grew even more energetic. They didn’t want a break—they were determined to promote their auntie properly. So they hugged the phone and squatted back down.
"Bro, hold this for me. I need to deal with something," he said, tossing Jiang Suizhi’s phone back to him.
"..."
Jiang Suizhi glanced at the screen just in time to see Le Qing, who had finished filming and was preparing to rest.
The moment she noticed the two little ones crouching not far away, her gaze shifted toward them—as if she could also see him peeking through the screen.
His eyelid twitched.
Instinctively, he moved the phone farther away.
Beside him, Lin Shengxi typed with audible intensity: "Here, have a cup of green tea to soothe your throat. Otherwise, you won’t be able to suppress all that bitterness oozing out of you."
"Who knows how long you’ve been marinating in that sour attitude? The stench is seeping through the screen."
"What, have you lost so much clout that you need to nitpick others just to feel relevant?"
Though Le Qing couldn’t make out Lin Shengxi’s exact words, she could tell he was fired up.
So she walked over to the two children, helped them up from the ground, and led them to sit by a small heater. As she opened their water bottles to check the temperature, she asked, "What’s going on with Uncle Lin?"
[From this angle—oh my god, boyfriend POV.]
[No idea what Ye Yun’s saying, but damn, that face is unreal!]
[Is the person on camera even the same one Ye Yun was describing? No wonder Lin’s going off in the chat.]
The two little ones set their phones aside, cradled their water bottles, and took sips, shaking their heads before nodding. "Uncle Lin was reading this!" They pointed at the phone on the table.
Le Qing picked it up and immediately understood—the kids had been filming her this whole time. And it was a live stream?
She skimmed the comments. "Why are you filming me?"
"More people watching Auntie means more work for Auntie!"
Le Qing paused, then chuckled softly, piecing everything together. She pulled out her own phone, opened a short-video app, and tapped into Ye Yun’s livestream. To the kids, she said, "Thank you."
"No problem!" The little ones beamed, their eyes crinkling. "There are so many people now—Auntie doesn’t have to work so hard!"
"It’s not hard," Le Qing replied, glancing at Lin Shengxi, who was tearing through Ye Yun’s stream. But first, she addressed the children. "If the reward matches the effort, then it’s not hardship. Getting what you’ve worked for should feel fulfilling. Compared to many others, I’m not struggling at all."
"Huh?"
"Go play with Uncle," Le Qing said with a smile, not elaborating further. "Tell him Auntie will handle it."
The kids, still a little confused, clutched their water bottles and ran off to find Uncle Lin.
Lin Jian sat beside Le Qing and asked curiously, "How do you plan to handle it?"
"Pretty simple," Le Qing replied, taking a sip of water and flexing her stiff fingers before tapping the livestream’s "connect" button.
No one recognized the account as Le Qing’s. Ye Yun, already flustered from Lin Shengxi’s verbal assault, accidentally hit "accept" without thinking.
Instantly, Le Qing’s voice echoed through both streams.
"Ye Yun, this is Le Qing."
Ye Yun’s eyes widened in panic. The old Le Qing wouldn’t have fazed her—but now, that voice overlapped with the one from that night, dragging her back to the feeling of being utterly dismissed.
[The difference in presence is staggering.]
[This is like getting caught talking smack behind someone’s back.]
[Everyone, go check the kids’ stream! Lin Jian took the phone and is now filming Le Qing directly. That aura plus her styling—sister, step on me!]
Le Qing, meanwhile, was focused on Ye Yun’s stunned expression on screen. She smiled. "Since we’re not close, what kind of person I am isn’t for you to judge."
"What, wasn’t it enough to sneakily burn my clothes the other day? Now you can’t even control your mouth?"
"I thought self-restraint was basic adult behavior. Or are you just underdeveloped and incapable of it? If so, I understand."
Her tone remained gentle as she asked, "Should I send you a copy of my kids’ cognitive development workbook?"
Ye Yun gritted her teeth. "I don’t need it!"
"Also, everything I have now, I earned myself. If you don’t have what it takes to compete, stock up on eye drops—don’t let your envy flare up everywhere. I don’t want to waste time on meaningless people. Next time, I’ll bill you my hourly rate. Pay up first if you want to talk."
[How is she roasting someone so hard without even cursing?!]
[After hearing her talk to the kids, I thought she had zero aggression.]
Lin Jian was surprised too. Not only had the kids changed since before—even Le Qing seemed different. At the last gathering, she wouldn’t have been this assertive.
Is this a family where even the adults are still growing?
Lin Jian struggled to suppress a laugh as she opened her own account to top up. She usually posted small illustrations but had never streamed—though she had a decent following.
So when she dropped 50 "Super Battleships" (the highest-tier gift) in the chat, the entire stream lost it.
[It’s Lin Jian!]
[LMAO, Lin Jian’s like: What tier do you think you’re on, questioning my taste?]
Lin Jian typed leisurely: [I’ve made it—I’m finally leaching off someone else’s clout. So, Ye Whoever, since you’re such an expert, why don’t you teach me how to take photos?]
Le Qing ignored the comments and continued, "This account belongs to my kids. I don’t do social media, and I’d prefer if messy drama didn’t reach them. Since you don’t need help,"—back in the kids’ stream, her smile faded—"then control yourself."
Just as she finished, another 100 Super Battleships exploded across the kids’ stream.
[Wait, another big spender?]
[What kind of hidden whales are lurking in this stream?!]
[Uh, are y’all using a different currency or something?]
The flood of special effects even made Lin Jian pause.
What status? Outspending her?
She pointed at the phone. "Someone sent gifts. Want to thank them?"
Le Qing looked over. "What?"
"They just dropped tens of thousands," Lin Jian said, squinting at the ID. "This... User 973446427284?"
"They said: ‘If you’ve got more to say, keep going.’"
"‘I’m listening.’"
