◎Wild Uncle◎
Le Qing sorted through the items Jiang Suizhi had sent over and realized that even if they kept everything until the Lantern Festival, there would still be more than enough. Though Jiang Suizhi had said it was all bundled together, she still estimated the approximate cost and transferred a sum of money to him.
A question mark popped up almost instantly in response.
Le Qing: "Jiang-ge, there’s just too much here. Even at wholesale prices, I wouldn’t be able to get this much."
AAAAA Jiang-ge: "Warehouse surplus. If you don’t take it, it’ll just go bad in storage."
Le Qing: "But it’s still a transaction. You’ve helped me a lot, and this isn’t much. Consider it sharing some New Year’s luck."
Reading this in the car on his way back to the family estate, Jiang Suizhi chuckled silently.
Her words were smooth—either the result of a happy, well-adjusted upbringing or hard-earned social finesse from navigating life alone.
Jiang Hechang had looked into Le Qing’s background: no parents, no family, just her.
So it was the latter.
Having walked a similar path, Jiang Suizhi knew how difficult it was to grow up alone in this vast world, let alone turn out the way she had.
Glancing at the red envelope beside him, he decided that aside from the two kids, Le Qing deserved a little extra care.
Once the transfer was accepted, Le Qing felt slightly better, though the sheer volume of goods remained overwhelming. She kept some for herself, set aside a portion for Sister Wang, and worried the rest—especially the fruit—might spoil. Remembering the neighbor who’d helped carry things earlier, she decided to share some with him.
With a bag of fruit in hand, she rang the doorbell across the hall.
No answer.
She pressed it a few more times and waited several minutes, but still, nothing.
Le Qing frowned.
Given how long she’d lingered outside earlier, the commotion should’ve drawn someone’s attention—yet aside from Mr. Xie, no one else had come out. Even if Mr. Xie wasn’t home, was there really no one else inside?
Well, she’d just have to wait until he returned.
Since Mr. Xie had declined to exchange WeChat earlier, she respected his boundaries and didn’t bring it up again. Instead, she messaged Lin Shengxi with a quick New Year’s greeting and asked him to relay to Mr. Xie that he could text her when he got back.
Lin Shengxi was baffled when he saw the message.
Since when did Jiang Suizhi own a place in that neighborhood?
Sure, the man had properties everywhere, but Le Qing’s complex wasn’t close to the office or the Jiang family estate. It might be upscale by ordinary standards, but someone like Jiang Suizhi wouldn’t live there.
Which meant only one thing: he’d done it on purpose.
This guy really had a habit of silently pulling off major moves—already infiltrating the enemy’s territory.
He immediately called Jiang Suizhi. "Bro, aren’t you worried about getting caught moving in across from them? Weren’t you supposed to keep a low profile?"
Jiang Suizhi: "Who told you?"
"Le Qing," Lin Shengxi said. "She wanted to give you some fruit, but no one answered the door, and you still haven’t added her on WeChat."
"Mm."
Adding her now would be admitting everything.
Being a spy was more exhausting than he’d thought. Maybe he needed to set up a few more burner accounts.
"Tell her I’ll pick it up when I’m free."
Lin Shengxi nearly choked.
Since when did the great Jiang Suizhi care about a box of fruit? Weren’t the imported gifts piling up at his doorstep enough? Half of them probably came with shady strings attached. And now he was eyeing someone else’s fruit?
Was it really about the fruit?
"Bro, why did you move in across from them anyway? I thought we were keeping things under wraps?"
Jiang Suizhi considered this. He always visited alone or with a trusted driver or bodyguard, never drove his own car or one registered under the company, and kept the lower half of his face hidden. Wasn’t that low-key enough?
"Don’t worry about it," he said. "I have my reasons."
Lin Shengxi: "..."
That sounded suspiciously like the infamous lines of his simp friends.
After hanging up, Jiang Suizhi stared at the transfer notifications from Le Qing, realizing this wasn’t sustainable.
Every time he sent her more things, she found a way to pay him back—but how did you even put a price on this?
As the head of a major corporation, Jiang Suizhi had no trouble selling anything. Luxury goods flew off the shelves the more expensive they were, let alone the affordable stuff.
After a brief pause, he took screenshots of all the items Le Qing had previously returned, downloaded a photo-editing app, and slapped "MASSIVE CLEARANCE SALE" across them in bold letters, pricing each piece and labeling them "first come, first served."
He posted the nine-image grid to his Moments—visible to only one person.
Meanwhile, Le Qing, now settled on the couch with the two kids and a bowl of grapes, nearly choked when she scrolled past the post.
This wasn’t a sale—this was a plunge straight to the eighteenth level of hell!
But the style was oddly fitting for a wholesaler’s marketing strategy.
So Jiang-ge hadn’t been lying last night about struggling to offload stock. Her gaze lingered on the outfits she’d hesitated to buy yesterday.
After trying on one of the pieces he’d sent, she’d been stunned—the quality matched the photos perfectly, and at this price? Unreal.
If it was a fire sale, maybe she could stock up. Even if spring was around the corner, she could save them for next year. Who knew if Jiang-ge’s business would even survive that long?
If she didn’t buy them, someone else would.
With that in mind, she commented: "Has anyone placed an order yet?"
Jiang Suizhi’s lips curved at the notification.
AAAAA Wholesale Jiang-ge: "Not yet."
Le Qing pounced immediately.
AAAAA Wholesale Jiang-ge: "Thought you weren’t buying new clothes yesterday?"
Le Qing: "A woman’s mind changes like the wind."
Feeling a little guilty for scoring such a steal, she offered some advice: "Jiang-ge, your products are great, but if they’re not selling, maybe there’s an issue with the marketing?"
Jiang Suizhi: "..."
And whose fault was that?
AAAAA Jiang Suizhi: "You’re right. Actually, I wanted to ask—what do people usually look for? Any suggestions?"
Le Qing agreed without a second thought.
Only later did it hit her: Wait, his products were fine as they were. What did he need her input for?
She’d been played again.
With only three people at home—two of whom were kids already stuffed on snacks—Le Qing kept the New Year’s Eve dinner simple.
For the little ones, a table full of dishes paled in comparison to a plate piled high with their favorite treats.
Setting the last dish down, she called out to the two still engrossed in their twisty toy on the couch: "Wash your hands—dinner’s ready!"
"Coming!"
Though they weren’t particularly hungry, the little ones were always eager whenever it was mealtime. They didn’t quite understand why—they just loved the feeling of being called to eat by their auntie.
The little ones quickly washed their hands and obediently climbed onto their special little chairs, stretching their arms to help their auntie set out the chopsticks and bowls.
“Wow!” Little Le’an propped herself up on the table and started counting, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… huh?”
“Eight!” Little Le Jia filled in the gap for her. “So many.”
The little ones clapped like seals: “Auntie is amazing!”
They were genuinely curious: “Do we eat lots of dishes during New Year?”
“Mhm,” Le Qing explained gently. “This is called the New Year’s Eve dinner. Usually, on this day, children who’ve been away for work or studies return home to celebrate with their elders, so the meal is extra special—a time for family reunion.”
The two little ones didn’t fully grasp the idea of “coming home for New Year” since they were with their auntie every day. They mumbled innocently, “We’re already a family. Every day is New Year.”
“Mhm,” Le Qing chuckled. “But when you grow up and go to school or work, you won’t have as much time at home.”
The two little ones widened their eyes.
Wait—so learning couldn’t be done at home?!
“Then I’ll use a talking pen!” Little Le Jia tapped into his clever little brain. “The talking pen learns at home.”
He didn’t want to leave home.
“There’s a lot the talking pen can’t teach you,” Le Qing said slowly, thinking ahead to when they’d start kindergarten. “Each stage of life has different things to learn. You’ll meet classmates and friends—things the talking pen can’t give you.”
“Then Auntie should come too!” Little Le’an said eagerly. “Auntie can make friends!”
Children say the darndest things. Le Qing laughed. “I’m past school age.”
“Then I won’t go either,” Little Le Jia put down his tiny spoon. “I’ll stay home with Auntie for New Year! Every day is New Year.”
Le Qing placed a piece of fish in his bowl and smiled. “New Year only comes once a year. See? If you don’t learn, you won’t even know things like this.”
Not learning would make them silly, but learning meant they couldn’t stay with Auntie.
This dilemma weighed heavily on the little ones. Even their excitement for kindergarten dimmed. They needed to figure out a way to bring Auntie to kindergarten too.
After dinner, she turned on the TV for the two little ones and went to the kitchen to clean up, also prepping some dumplings.
Though the little ones’ bedtime meant they wouldn’t stay up to eat them, the dumplings could be breakfast tomorrow. Conveniently, Brother Jiang had sent over some shrimp earlier, so she could prepare those too.
After handling the shrimp, she turned around to find the two little ones sitting like tiny gatekeepers at the kitchen door, watching her with big eyes.
“Auntie~”
“Hmm?”
“Why same?” Little Le’an asked.
“What’s the same?”
“New Year and yesterday.”
Le Qing took a moment to parse it. “You mean New Year feels like any other day?”
“Mhm!” The little ones nodded. “Auntie said New Year is fun, but we didn’t play.”
Little Le Jia corrected, “No no, we played in the morning.”
They’d had high expectations for New Year, but aside from putting up couplets with Auntie in the morning and eating lots of snacks and the big dinner, it didn’t feel much different from usual.
Auntie was still busy with chores. Auntie didn’t play.
Hearing the New Year’s Gala playing in the living room, Le Qing asked, “Is the TV not fun? I can put on cartoons.”
She wasn’t interested in the Gala herself but thought the kids might like it.
Turns out, even kids didn’t enjoy it these days.
Fireworks were banned in the city, so the night was quiet. Le Qing wasn’t sure what else to do for New Year. Without childhood memories of her own, she assumed giving the kids things they liked would make them happy.
And her? Well, she’d already felt deeply content today.
Even if that contentment wasn’t entirely hers.
The two little ones, who watched cartoons daily, wanted to do something special today. Even cartoons couldn’t hold their interest now. “No watching! Auntie play with us!”
Thinking of the never-tiring rocking horse in the living room, Le Qing hesitated—a rare moment of uncertainty.
Finally, she glanced at the dough she hadn’t rolled out yet. “How about you help me make dumplings?”
“Yay yay!”
Anything done together was a hit with the little ones.
So Le Qing moved the operation to the living room. The dining table was too high for them to work comfortably, so she set everything on the coffee table instead.
She demonstrated for the kids: “I’ll roll out the wrappers. You dip your fingers in water, then pinch them into little moons.”
A little waste was fine—they wouldn’t make many anyway. They could eat hers later.
Crafting was way more fun than the Gala. The little ones focused intently, mimicking their auntie.
“Only moons?” Little Le’an asked. “I wanna make a piggy, like Fluffy!”
“Sure,” Le Qing let them play freely. “Make whatever you can shape.”
“Yay!”
Sitting cross-legged on the rug, their tiny hands covered in flour, they smeared it on their faces without realizing, turning into little flour-dusted kittens.
With the TV’s music in the background and the soft chatter of the little ones debating their dumpling designs, Le Qing gradually felt the festive warmth of New Year.
Then her phone rang.
It was Ivy calling. With her hands messy, Le Qing had the slightly “cleaner” brother answer the video call.
The moment the call connected, a giant little face filled the screen. Before anyone could see clearly, Xuxu’s voice burst through: “Auntie!”
Little Le Jia, holding the phone, solemnly corrected him: “You have to say God-auntie!”
“God-auntie!” Xuxu switched effortlessly. “God-auntie, Happy New Year! Happy New Year to the little siblings too!”
Before Le Qing could respond, the two little ones handled the greetings for her: “Happy New Year, big brother!”
Ivy peeked into view behind Xuxu. “I sent red packets for the kids but didn’t see a reply, so I called. It’s evening there, right?”
“Yeah,” Le Qing leaned in behind the two little ones. “Sorry, we were making dumplings. Didn’t check my phone.”
“Dumplings!” Ivy sighed wistfully. “For some reason, they never taste the same abroad. We stopped making them at home.”
Le Qing understood. She held up a dumpling. “Come back sometime, and I’ll make you some.”
“We made some too!” The little ones eagerly showed off their “masterpieces.”
“So creative!” Ivy cheered. “But promise me you won’t cook these.”
“Whyyy?”
Le Qing couldn’t help laughing. “Because these are art.”
She looked at Xuxu, who was dressed even more extravagantly than her own two children at home, in pure traditional Chinese attire—utterly adorable—and asked, "Are you celebrating the New Year too?"
"Honestly, we didn’t used to make such a big deal of it," Lvy said, lifting the child to show him off in his festive red outfit. "But my parents insisted that since it’s Xuxu’s first New Year with the family, we should go all out. Later, some close relatives and friends are coming over for a party."
"That sounds lively," Le Qing remarked, glancing at the visibly happier and more relaxed child. "Is Xuxu enjoying life with his mom?"
"Yes!" Xuxu clung to his mother without letting go. "Mom, Grandpa, and Grandma are all so nice. I just miss Auntie and my little cousins."
"He can’t understand the other kids here," Lvy sighed. "Luckily, there are plenty of people at home, so daily communication isn’t an issue. But he really misses playing with kids his age—your two, especially. If you’re willing, I could buy you plane tickets to come visit sometime when you’re free?"
Le Qing didn’t answer immediately. After the New Year, she still had a lot on her plate and wouldn’t have much free time. Plus, traveling abroad required a visa.
"I’ll let you know if I can work something out."
"Sure." Someone seemed to approach behind Lvy, and she set the child down to turn around. "The guests are here."
"Then you should go—"
Before Le Qing could finish, another face filled the screen—Chelles, who leaned in with delighted surprise. "Le Qing! Happy New Year!"
Le Qing straightened up. "Happy New Year."
The two little ones sat quietly beside her, holding the phone steady without interrupting their aunt’s conversation.
When the group on the other end caught sight of Le Qing’s outfit, they burst into laughter. "What on earth are you wearing?"
Le Qing froze for a second, then chuckled.
She hadn’t bothered changing out of the clothes Jiang Suizhi had given her earlier, figuring she’d just wear them around the house until they got dirty. Who knew she’d end up showing them off to everyone today?
Having already embarrassed herself once, Le Qing was now completely unbothered. "A gift from my kids."
"Very unique! I’ll definitely take a photo of you in it someday!" Chelles waved to someone off-screen. "Annie, come quick! It’s Le Qing!"
Annie?
Le Qing’s impression of this person was still stuck on a shadowy figure from a dark background.
The camera shook violently for a moment before settling on a woman in a black overcoat. Her hair was a bold wine-red, making her fair skin stand out even more. A gray scarf added a touch of sophistication, and her crimson lips were just as striking. Oddly, she wore sunglasses in the snow and carried a white cane.
Le Qing had heard her name mentioned several times by the others, but this was the first time she’d seen her so clearly.
To be honest, even after years as a model surrounded by beautiful people, Le Qing was utterly stunned by this woman’s presence.
When the camera focused on her, Annie seemed to look straight into the lens—giving Le Qing the strange sensation of locking eyes with her.
Then Annie spoke, her Mandarin even rougher than Chelles’. "Le Qing?"
Le Qing nodded instinctively before remembering Annie couldn’t see her. "Hello," she said quickly.
"Remember me?" This time, Annie switched to English, sounding far more fluent.
"Of course. Annie."
The woman smiled, taking a step closer to the camera before stopping. "If you ever come here, let me know? I’d love to meet you in person."
She had touched up Le Qing’s photos before—those striking features were unforgettable. And for some reason, she couldn’t resist running her fingers over them. It was an instinctive reaction, one that had only deepened her curiosity about Le Qing.
Le Qing found Annie’s sudden fondness for her a bit puzzling, but she couldn’t refuse such warmth. Besides, she felt an immediate pull toward this woman too.
The problem was, she’d never been good at making close friends. Lvy had already been an unexpected exception. So for a moment, she just stared blankly, unsure how to respond.
To outsiders, it probably looked like she was mesmerized by Annie.
"Did you two just fall in love at first sight?" Chelles teased. "Is this what you Chinese call 'fate,' huh?"
Snapping out of it, Le Qing laughed sheepishly.
"Le Qing," Annie tilted her head slightly. "You haven’t answered me."
If she was truly free now, starting a new life—could she really build something fresh in this world? New friendships, maybe even more?
Le Qing felt an odd flutter of nerves.
She glanced down at her chest, then nodded softly. "Okay."
Annie’s lips curved in satisfaction. "Then—Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year."
The two kids huddled closer to the phone, curious. "Auntie, that lady is so pretty! And cool!"
Even prettier than people on TV!
Annie wasn’t fluent in Mandarin, but she understood enough. Hearing the children’s praise, she leaned toward the camera.
Suddenly, three faces filled the screen at once, startling Le Qing.
Earlier, she’d been dazzled by Annie’s beauty. Now, she noticed something else—Annie bore a faint resemblance to her brother. The sunglasses obscured part of her face, but the similarity was there.
Annie said, "Give the kids my regards. They’re sweet—I’ll send them red envelopes later."
Le Qing wondered how that would work, but soon enough, she received a friend request—Lvy had passed her contact to Annie. True to her word, Annie sent three generous digital red envelopes.
Then came a voice message: "I’m not always on my phone, but feel free to call or video chat if you miss me."
The kids were right—this woman was undeniably cool.
Her day was clearly packed. Right after the international call, Lin Jian rang.
"Been busy all day," Lin Jian said with a tired smile on-screen. "Looks like you’ve had plenty of callers too."
Le Qing paused, then chuckled. "Just a few friends. What’s up?"
"Nothing much. Sister Wang mentioned you were spending New Year’s at home, so I wanted to see how you’re celebrating." He rubbed his temples. "My family’s been swarming me—just now got a free moment to call. Oh, and I’d like to give the kids some lucky money."
Understanding, Le Qing turned the camera toward the children, beckoning them over to greet him.
"Is that Le Jia and Le An I hear?" Lin Shengxi’s voice chimed in from the other end. "Come here, let Uncle see you! It’s been days since your last vlog update."
That reminded Le Qing—the kids hadn’t filmed anything since returning from the set. Maybe they should wish their followers a happy New Year.
"Forget filming!" Lin Shengxi interjected. "Editing takes forever. Just go live! You’ve done it before, and I’m bored out of my mind here. Perfect chance to shower the kiddos with digital red envelopes!"
"Just transfer the money directly," Lin Jian suggested from the side. "Otherwise, the platform will take a cut."
"You don’t get it. It’s about the sense of ceremony."
Hearing this, Le Qing turned to the two children and asked, "It’s New Year’s Eve—do you want to say ‘Happy New Year’ to the fans who adore you online?"
She remembered the kids mentioning they loved being online because so many people liked them.
The two little ones took a few seconds to process this before suddenly remembering they had an important mission!
Being around their aunt was so comfortable that they’d almost forgotten about earning their "little bread"!
Without caring about their flour-covered hands, Little Le Jia immediately tapped into her phone’s account backend, just as Uncle Lin had taught her: "Yes!"
Meanwhile, the Jiang family’s ancestral home was brightly lit inside and out.
On this New Year’s Eve, all the direct relatives had gathered, breathing some semblance of life into the usually quiet estate.
The reunion dinner had long since ended. Jiang Suizhi had changed into a fresh suit before arriving and now sat in the most prominent spot, his metal-framed glasses glinting under the lights, accentuating his aristocratic aura. Holding a wine glass, he took occasional sips whenever someone approached, drawing frequent glances from the relatives.
In a corner, a man watched Jiang Suizhi being fawned over and gritted his teeth. "It’s only been a few years, and he already acts like he owns the place."
He supported the elderly man beside him. "Dad, my elder brother has already stepped back from managing the group. Back then, Little Yan was young but capable, so we trusted him. But Suizhi wasn’t even raised among us—who knows what kind of education he received? He’s practically a stranger. And yet, my brother handed the entire group over to him without a second thought. How old is he even?"
Old Master Jiang sighed. "We were all his age once. He’ll learn with time."
"That may be true, but it’s a process. You should advise my brother not to be so stubborn. We’re family, and we’re older—if he needs guidance, we could mentor him for a few years. Wouldn’t that be better than letting him stumble through everything alone?"
"Enough," another voice interrupted. "If someone overhears, they’ll think you’re coveting the family fortune. Since when have you had any say in their affairs? As long as the money reaches your account, what does it matter?"
Though the family business had been built solely by Jiang Hechang, the siblings all held shares, ensuring they’d never want for anything.
Old Master Jiang nodded. "Your Third Sister is right."
Jiang Heling shot Jiang Yu a glare. "I’m going to the restroom."
Unfazed by his hostility, Jiang Yu took his place. "Dad, don’t listen to his nonsense. He’s so transparent it’s embarrassing."
"We’re all family," Old Master Jiang patted her hand. "I know what I’m doing."
Jiang Yu glanced at Jiang Suizhi, who had just extricated himself from the crowd. "Suizhi has really grown these past few years. He becomes more mature with each passing year, and now he’s shouldering the group’s responsibilities effortlessly. I’ve heard from the company that he’s even more decisive and ruthless than Little Yan was. It seems his years away weren’t wasted."
Old Master Jiang agreed. "Your brother mentioned Suizhi is very dedicated to the group. But unlike Little Yan, his temperament is colder. Look—even during New Year’s, the moment he gets a chance, he avoids staying with family."
"That’s understandable," Jiang Yu said sympathetically. "After all these years of neglect, it’s only natural he’d feel distant. With time, he’ll learn."
"Learn what? Last time he came back, he fought with his father and didn’t even stay for a meal when he saw me."
Jiang Yu chuckled. "If you’re lonely, just call me. You know how busy he is."
At this, Old Master Jiang’s expression softened slightly. "Having a daughter is a blessing. Both of your brother’s sons seem heartless. Who knows what will become of them?"
As Jiang Yu helped him to the sofa, she suddenly remembered something. "Little Yan’s third death anniversary is coming up. I heard from Second Brother that he used to have a girlfriend. Why haven’t we ever seen her?"
Old Master Jiang frowned. "How would your Second Brother know?"
"He has a lot of connections—maybe he heard it somewhere. It’s just odd that neither my brother nor Little Yan ever mentioned her."
"After all this time, they probably broke up."
Young people’s relationships were unpredictable. Jiang Yu nodded. "True. And now Suizhi shows no interest in love or marriage. Who knows when my brother will get a grandchild? When Second Brother mentioned it back then, I thought the family might welcome a new little one."
"A new little one?"
"Didn’t they say Little Yan was looking for a child when the accident happened?" Jiang Yu paused, then dismissed the idea. "But if that were true, my brother would never have left the child unattended."
"Where did you hear all this?"
"From Second Brother."
Old Master Jiang’s frown deepened. "That fool can’t keep his mouth shut after a drink. What nonsense. Little Yan wasn’t irresponsible."
"I thought so too." Jiang Yu sighed in relief and began massaging his shoulders. "Don’t be upset, Dad. My schedule is clear these days—since Suizhi isn’t staying, I’ll keep you company."
Old Master Jiang patted her hand, but unease settled in his chest.
How did Second Brother know about Little Yan supposedly having a child? And why had he never mentioned it before?
Meanwhile, Jiang Suizhi, having drunk more than usual, stepped into the garden for air. He loosened his tie, letting himself breathe as he surveyed the Jiang family from the shadows.
Every one of them—whether blatant or subtle in their ambitions—only fueled his irritation. And there was no escaping them.
His phone buzzed. It was a New Year’s greeting from Lin Shengxi, one of the few contacts on his private account.
Jiang Suizhi sent him a red packet in return. Just as he was about to lock his phone, a notification caught his eye: The account you follow is now live.
The only person he followed was—
The kids.
He tapped in, and two flour-smudged faces filled the screen, tiny hands clutching misshapen lumps of dough.
"This is dumpling juice!" Little Le Jia proudly held up her creation. "Auntie taught us!"
"Auntie said we should wish everyone who likes us a Happy New Year, so here we are!"
As the children spoke, a soft voice off-camera read the comments aloud: "What fun things did you do today?"
Only the person’s hands were visible, deftly rolling out dumpling wrappers for the kids to "decorate."
"We put up Spring Festival couplets! And helped Uncle put them up too! We did a super good job!"
The two little ones chimed in unison: "We even gave Uncle a red packet!"
[Uncle? What uncle?!]
[Hold on—explain yourselves! Who’s this "uncle" you’re helping with couplets on New Year’s?!]
Le Qing explained to the live-stream comments: "He's just a neighbor."
The two kids chimed in: "It's the super tall and cool uncle!"
[Really? I don’t believe it unless you show us a photo! How tall? How cool?]
[With my years of experience, I smell a scheme! What kind of neighbor asks kids to paste couplets for him? They’re barely taller than his waist!]
[He’s not after the couplets—he’s after your aunt!]
Jiang Suizhi scoffed lightly.
Why couldn’t it just be about pasting couplets?
Nonsense.
And who’s this "random uncle" they’re talking about?
User 973446427284 sent 100 super battleships.
Le Qing froze for a moment, then three seconds later, staring at the vaguely familiar—now glittering—username floating across the livestream, she saw a message: "How much to buy a moderator spot?"
He was going to mute every single one of them!
