Qin Suyuan’s departure left the Qin family utterly humiliated. Especially Su Jing—she had never, in her entire life, been so directly accused and blamed like this.
The reason she had gone out for a spring outing back then was entirely because she was upset over the scandal involving Qin Zhenzhou and a famous actress. Feeling gloomy, she had brushed everyone off and gone out for a stroll. Who would have thought she would go into labor at such an inconvenient time? The place she went to was still considered the suburbs back then, and when she collapsed, an ambulance rushed her to the nearest hospital to give birth.
After Su Jing gave birth, because of Qin Zhenzhou’s scandal, she paid little attention to the baby. In those few days, she barely looked at the child. The baby’s meals and diaper changes were all handled by a single nurse at the hospital who was responsible for several patients.
No one noticed when the baby was switched. It wasn’t until the Qin family came looking, and Qin Zhenzhou explained the situation with the actress, that the matter was brushed aside. Su Jing, feeling no sense of betrayal, gradually ignored the child she had been neglecting, who had by then been replaced with Qin Susu.
Su Jing had never imagined that such a thing as a baby swap could happen to her. Even more unimaginable was that Qin Suyuan—the revered Mrs. Qin of Qin Jewelry—would personally come to claim Qin Suyuan, and yet Qin Suyuan refused to acknowledge her.
What made things even more embarrassing was that the truth about Qin Susu had been exposed. Now the entire high society of Haibin City knew that Su Jing was a fool who not only allowed her biological daughter to be swapped but also raised a spoiled daughter who went so far as to hire someone to kill her own biological daughter!
What was even more ridiculous was that her biological daughter, who hadn’t grown up by her side, was exceptionally outstanding—she had become a student at Sam University. Just this alone made her far superior to the daughter she had raised. Most importantly, that outstanding daughter refused to recognize her as her mother.
The entire Qin family became the laughingstock of high society. The scandal was even reported by entertainment tabloids, and now ordinary citizens were aware of it too. Su Jing’s neglect of her biological daughter, which led to the swap, was mercilessly mocked on forums again and again.
Su Jing didn’t even want to leave her house. Her days were miserable, and Qin Zhenzhou’s life was tough as well. He was currently negotiating a raw gemstone deal with a business owner known for being family-oriented and devoted. This owner had resources and mines and was notoriously carefree when it came to business.
While most people only cared about money, he insisted on looking into the family background of his partners. If there was even the slightest discord in the family, he refused to do business with them.
Originally, he had a very high opinion of Qin Zhenzhou—clean personal life, filial to his parents, harmonious relationships with his children. Their meetings had been pleasant, and the deal was just one step away from signing the contract.
However, after the news about Qin Susu’s attempt to hire a killer broke out, the mine owner immediately called to cancel the cooperation. Not only that, he also publicly declared that he would never do business with the Qin family again, calling them a bunch of fools.
The competition within various industries in Xia Country was fierce, with long-established companies like Qin Zhenzhou’s jewelry group feeling the pressure more than most. Now, with this scandal breaking out, competitors were delighted to watch Qin’s misfortune unfold. Some sales assistants from rival jewelry stores even slyly disparaged Qin’s brand while selling their own pieces, whispering that the Qin family must be out of their minds—how could they let their child be switched? Who knew if the gold was genuine or not?
Moreover, the fact that the Qin family had raised a daughter who hired a hitman was proof enough of their poor character.
These rumors grew more and more outrageous. Some even claimed that Qin’s jewelry was selling fake gold. And sure enough, some customers took their purchases from Qin’s store to get them appraised. Before the appraisal, they had no idea, but the results were shocking: Qin’s gold was adulterated. Pieces labeled as pure 24-karat gold fell far short of the standard.
Once this news broke, public outrage ignited instantly. Qin’s stock price plummeted repeatedly. The elderly patriarch of the Qin family had no choice but to step out of retirement and take charge of the situation. He was the one who had founded Qin Jewelry and successfully taken the company public, so he had the ability to steer things back on course. After a series of strategic moves, the stock’s nosedive eased somewhat, and the company’s reputation saw a slight recovery.
But compared to the time before the scandal, it was nowhere near enough.
Life was also difficult for the Qin siblings. Qin Susong, who hadn’t even graduated from university yet, was constantly visited by his younger sister, Qin Susu, who clung to him relentlessly. With her sweet talk and generous nature, she had successfully integrated into Qin Susong’s circle of friends.
After the scandal broke, many of Qin Susong’s friends distanced themselves from him. Most university students were adults with their own sense of right and wrong; they believed that if Qin Susu was so close to Qin Susong, then there was something wrong with their character. Besides, Qin Susong had even cursed his own sister for being ungrateful while they were in the dormitory.
Compared to university students, middle schoolers were less rational. Qin Suyang was mocked daily at school. Hot-headed and impulsive, he got into several fights, which only worsened his social standing. The few people who had been around him had already drifted away.
Qin Suyang’s temperament grew increasingly dark, and he even developed a sense of disgust toward his sister Qin Susu, whom he had once adored.
Meanwhile, Qin Susu, who was now imprisoned, still couldn’t understand why her second chance at life had turned out so badly. Her current life was even worse than the last. She couldn’t comprehend why the kidnappers who had killed the heiress of the Gu family in her previous life were so merciful this time around. How had they let Qin Suyuan escape?
Qin Susu didn’t regret her decision to betray Qin Suyuan. She only hated herself for not having the others eliminate Qin Suyuan and Zhou Suxia sooner. Had they done so earlier, none of this would have happened.
While confined to her cell, Qin Susu pondered the mystery of her rebirth after death once more. But she was hesitant to take that gamble again.
***
Meanwhile, on Earth’s plane, it was already the third day of the Lunar New Year for Lin Xi. Her guesthouse had just reopened for business. As the owner, she followed local customs and handed out red envelopes—small ones with just a few dozen yuan inside—simply to bring good luck.
Coming back from the construction site, as soon as Lin Xi stepped into the house, she saw Xue Min sitting by the family hearth, warming herself in a white down jacket.
Chi Xiangping and Yao Yuran were sitting nearby, keeping her company. Lin Xi’s expression remained unchanged, while Xue Min’s eyes were filled with genuine guilt as she looked at her.
After Lin Xi came inside, Xue Min grabbed her hand and said, “Xiao Xi, I’ve finally found out everything. All these years, the living expenses I sent you were embezzled by them. When you came looking for me as a child, I didn’t even know. They just brushed you off and sent you away.”
As Xue Min spoke, tears welled up, but having not seen Lin Xi for several days, her skill at crying was even more polished than before. With her mannerisms, if Lexi didn’t know any better, she might actually believe how remorseful Xue Min felt.
Chi Xiangping said nothing, turning her head to stir the ashes in the hearth. Secretly, she curled her lips. It was one thing not to have met before, but after this meeting, she found Xue Min quite fake. Her maiden village wasn’t far from Lotus Village, and her new husband had always lived in the city. Lin Xi had attended high school in the city as well.
If she really wanted to see Lin Xi, would she not have been able to? With so many opportunities to meet, did it have to be during the few days of the New Year when Lin Xi came looking for her? Besides, if Lin Xi really couldn’t see her, as an adult, was there really someone stopping her from coming?
In the end, it was simply that she didn’t want to see her. And as for her parents embezzling the money Xue Min sent to Lin Xi — Chi Xiangping knew well about their preference for sons. Handing money to her parents was like throwing meat into the tiger’s mouth; expecting them to give it back was just a dream.
Did Xue Min not know what kind of people her parents were? Ultimately, it all came down to her not caring about Lin Xi.
Chi Xiangping realized she had been naive, still seeing Xue Min as she used to be. Back then, Xue Min had been so anxious about Lin Xi. When Lin Xi was sick, Xue Min acted as if the sky was falling; when Lin Xi cried in pain, she would care for her while crying alongside her.
Chi Xiangping thought to herself, people really do change.
Lin Xi nodded. “That’s all in the past. Even without the support you sent, my grandparents raised me all this time. We don’t need your money anymore. Consider it as your way of honoring my grandparents.”
Lin Xi truly didn’t care. Whether or not Xue Min was truly herself didn’t matter to her. She didn’t dwell on how things happened; she only cared about the outcome.
If no one had taken care of her, then no one had taken care of her. She refused to accept any excuses.
Too tired to pretend with Xue Min, she went to the kitchen to wash her face. Starting the second floor today, the dust and wind had left a layer of grime on her face.
When she came out, Xue Min was still there. Lin Xi grabbed her vegetable basket and headed to the garden.
Chi Xiangping had just brought back two piglets to raise. Because Xue Min was visiting today, she hadn’t yet cut vegetables to cook the pig feed.
By the time she had chopped up some of the older vegetables, Xue Min was already gone. Lin Xi piled the vegetables beside the pig feed machine in the kitchen and headed toward the living room.
Chi Xiangping curled her lips. “I was still hoping your mom was the same as before, but seeing her today, I just feel like she’s changed. What she calls her ‘hardships’—what kind of hardships are those?”
Chi Xiangping sighed. “She even asked me if your dad left behind anything. She wanted to take some as a memento.”
Lin Xi immediately knew Xue Min hadn’t given up yet. She glanced at Chi Xiangping. “Did you give it to her?”
“No. She’s been married once already. Over the years, I’ve heard from people that her second husband treated her well. But now that he’s gone bankrupt, she divorced him. The divorce hasn’t even been long, and now she’s coming back to reminisce about your dad. It’s really strange.”
“I don’t understand your generation’s feelings, but I just feel something’s off.” Chi Xiangping was self-aware. Her son was perfect in her eyes, but it had been twenty years since she last saw him. Xue Min had remarried in the meantime, and even if she had feelings for her son, coming back after all these years to ask for old things to remember him by felt very strange.
Lin Xi said nothing. All the things her father had left behind had been stored away by her in a special space. To Chi Xiangping, Lin Xi’s explanation was that those things were thrown away—they were just useless old stones. Chi Xiangping didn’t argue. To her, those things really were worthless.
The only reason they hadn’t been thrown away was because older people tend to hoard things—they can’t bear to part with old items.
And so the matter quietly passed.
On the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, Lin Xi took Yao Yuran to the hospital to have her cast removed. Once the cast was off, she could walk again. The feeling of having solid footing brought several more smiles to Yao Yuran’s face.
After sending her home, Lin Xi pulled out her blueprints and began sketching.
Her guesthouse was designed in a modern Chinese style, and she planned to decorate the interior with matching soft furnishings.
Especially the furniture—she intended for everything to be made of wood. She used to specialize in custom whole-house furniture, so drawing up the blueprints was no problem. But nowadays, making solid wood furniture was expensive—one full set would cost quite a bit.
Still, it didn’t matter. She had her chat group, and she could place orders with group members.
She sent the blueprints to Xu Huanhuan, who immediately assigned her team to find craftsmen.
Lin Xi’s furniture designs were simple and clear, so even carpenters who couldn’t read could replicate them by following the shapes.
Xu Huanhuan was so impressed by the beauty of the new Chinese-style sofas and tea tables that she ordered a set for herself on the spot. She had already moved out from her parents’ home and was now living in her own courtyard. It was her house, her home, and she could decorate it however she pleased.
After sending the blueprints to Xu Huanhuan, Lin Xi headed to the city’s home textile market. There, she selected several fabrics in off-white, embroidered with bamboo, distant mountains, and cranes, and ordered sofa covers tailored to her chosen dimensions.
Back at the same shop, Lin Xi carefully selected the finest pure cotton fabric and ordered several sets of four-piece bedding—these were for her own home. For the guesthouse, however, she preferred to use white bedding, just like other hotels.
At the store that specialized in mattress and sofa cushions, she placed an order for both.
Just these purchases alone cost nearly a hundred thousand yuan. Afterward, she bought a bowl of rice noodles at the entrance of the home textile market. Lin Xi then headed toward the city’s secondhand market, planning to hunt for some decorative pieces to place in the guesthouse’s lobby. The price didn’t need to be high, but the items had to carry that quaint, antique charm.
She hadn’t been in the market long when someone called out to her. Lin Xi turned around and saw Jia Fugui, the old shop owner who had bought that blue military postage stamp from her.
It had been months since they last met, and Jia Fugui looked even more prosperous than before. “Little Lin, happy New Year!” he greeted her warmly, his face beaming.
“Happy New Year, Boss Jia,” Lin Xi replied with a smile. Ever since she sold that blue military stamp to Jia Fugui, they hadn’t been in touch. But they had added each other on WeChat, and for a while, Jia Fugui’s social feed was filled with posts proudly showing off that very stamp.
Lin Xi had a deep impression of him.
Jia Fugui, in turn, held Lin Xi in very high regard. That blue military stamp had made him the talk of the philatelic circles across Yunnan Province. Ever since he got the stamp, more than half the collectors in the province had come to visit his home. Even an old acquaintance who usually didn’t get along with him had gone out of his way to flatter him for a long time, just to get a closer look at the stamp.
Jia Fugui had kept those compliments carefully, pulling them out whenever he was in a bad mood. Listening to them would lift his spirits for the entire day!
“So, Little Lin, what brings you here? Looking to find something special?” he asked.
“Thanks to you, Boss Jia, I’ve opened a small guesthouse. I want to find some decorations to put inside—something simple and rustic,” Lin Xi explained. She recalled a video she had seen where the blogger placed a blooming branch inside an old yellow pottery jar.
So when she thought about decorations for the rooms, that image popped into her mind.
If she couldn’t find yellow pottery, black pottery would do as well. She had seen similar vases and ornaments on online shopping platforms, and they usually cost at least a thousand or so yuan.
Although Lin Xi could afford those easily now, she was reluctant to have things shipped. Conveniently, she hadn’t been to this antique market before, so she thought she’d take a look and maybe learn something new.
“Congratulations, congratulations,” Jia Fugui said after congratulating Lin Xi. “I happen to know this antique market well. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
The antique market was really a mix of a few genuine items and a lot of fakes. If Lin Xi wanted something authentic, she would have to put in some effort—after all, even Jia Fugui wasn’t always able to tell the real from the fake. But if she just wanted something fake, it was easy; most of the items in the market looked like they’d been made just last week.
As long as you knew how to bargain, the things here were really cheap and charming.
The antique market was just a single street. Besides the shops lining both sides, there were plenty of small stalls scattered about. Today was the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, and many people came hoping to snag a bargain. Lin Xi and Jia Fugui strolled along, browsing as they went. Jia Fugui took the opportunity to school Lin Xi on all sorts of things.
For example, which vendor sold fakes, which shop owner was heartless, and whose business practices were sloppy.
Lin Xi wandered around for three or four hours. When she finally stepped out, the trunk of her car was packed full with a box of items—all things that could be placed in her guesthouse. With Jia Fugui haggling by her side, they managed to get everything at rock-bottom prices.
Back home, Lin Xi put the ornaments back in the room and took out her phone to check the messages in her group chat.
The group was quite large now, bustling with activity every day. Lin Xi joined the conversation.
Just as she was about to put down her phone and go eat, Lu Shenzhi from the “World of Strategy”—who hadn’t spoken since joining the group—finally broke the silence.
[World of Strategy Lu Shenzhi: Sorry everyone, I’ve been in the group for so long but only now speaking up.]
The group members were very tolerant. Besides, Lu Shenzhi’s silence hadn’t been a big deal. No one had set any rule that newcomers had to speak immediately.
[Dog Brother Chu Qianmo: No worries, brother. What kind of world are you in? Are you doing okay over there?]
In the ancient strategic borderlands, Lu Shenzhi sat in front of a thatched hut, gazing at the swirling yellow sand and the endless desert and gravel plains. He sighed deeply.
[World of Strategy Lu Shenzhi: Not great. My whole family was just exiled. We arrived here today.]
When he had time, Lu Shenzhi shared his story in the group: [I transmigrated as the youngest son of the current prime minister. I never got to enjoy a good life. As soon as I arrived, I was stuck in prison. After finally getting out, I was exiled. I’m wearing wooden shackles on my hands, and I haven’t taken them off since leaving the capital for the border city. It’s been hard even to say a word to you all.]
The items Lin Xi sent him were all secretly received late at night, and now the group chat system was temporarily safeguarding them.
Lu Shenzhi’s situation was pretty grim. The group members bombarded him with questions, asking if there was anything he needed.
After thinking it over, Lu Shenzhi replied: [World of Strategy Lu Shenzhi: My family just arrived here, and we haven’t gotten a lay of the land yet. Once I figure things out and see what’s missing, I’ll let you all know.]
In Lu Shenzhi’s world, his father Lu Ming had three sons and two daughters. Of the three sons, only Lu Shenzhi survived. His eldest brother Lu Xingzhi and second brother Lu Jinzhi were both beheaded, leaving behind their wives and children.
The daughters were somewhat better off. Since they were married off, they remained with their husbands’ families. But in this ancient world, being the daughter of a disgraced official was no easy life—even for married daughters.
Lu Shenzhi had glanced through the chat in the group and knew that Lin Duxi had some gene repair serum. He was just about to ask Lin Duxi for some, not because he didn’t want to trade, but because he was new to this place. His entire family was crammed into three shabby, leaking thatched huts, and there was nothing of value to offer in exchange.
Before he could even speak, a private message popped up. He clicked on it and saw it was from Lin Xi, the Earth Girl in the group, sending him exactly what he needed—the gene repair serum.
He was momentarily stunned when Lin Xi’s message arrived: [Earth Girl Lin Xi: I thought you might need this. Take it for now. I give some to every new member who joins our group, so don’t feel obligated. You can try trading it with Chu Qianmo for a space seed. Once you have space, I believe your life will become much easier.]
Lu Shenzhi accepted the offer, and the bottle of gene repair serum landed in his hands. He gripped it tightly.
Trust and kindness are built over time. From being exiled from the capital to this border town, a journey of two thousand miles, it had taken two months on foot. During this time, Lu Shenzhi’s hands had been shackled and never freed. Even eating and drinking required someone to feed him.
The female guards were far more lenient than the men. His mother and two sisters-in-law had been saving their own rations to share with him. His little nephew, barely over five years old and innocent of the world, still knew to come to his side at night, to gather close and hold him.
Before crossing over, Lu Shenzhi had been a high school history teacher. He had even risen from a secondary teacher to become the head teacher, known for his strong sense of responsibility. The hardships on this exile journey had already made him decide to take the original family under his wing and care for them.
After sincerely thanking Lin Xi, he stood and went to fetch a wooden bucket from their home—a daily living supply issued by the local health station.
Besides these, there were about ten pounds of sorghum mixed with stones and a quilt so old and hardened it had turned black and clumped together.
This was a small village, and not long after leaving home, he spotted a narrow river. Because of the heavy silt, the water was yellow.
People came and went to fetch water, their faces numb and expressionless.
Most of the villagers were descendants of exiles, with a small number like Lu Shenzhi’s family who had just recently been sent here.
Their expressions were uniformly blank; pale, gaunt faces and thin bodies were the most common features among them.
Lu Shenzhi carried the water back, started a fire, and boiled it in a clay pot. After cooling it down, he took the water into the next room.
The room was filled with people lying on the floor. There, his mother, sisters-in-law, nephews, and nieces were all collapsed from exhaustion upon arrival at the border town.
At this moment, there were no longer any strict boundaries between men and women. One by one, Lu Shenzhi gently woke them, having them drink the water mixed with the gene repair serum.
He administered the serum carefully, following Lin Xi’s instructions to the letter. After drinking, their spirits visibly improved.
Lu Shenzhi went out to cook, and his mother followed him. Neither of them knew how to use the stove properly, so the rice they cooked was either burnt or undercooked. Yet, no one dared to throw it away. On the exile journey, everyone had come to deeply understand the importance of food.
After dinner, night fell. Lu Shenzhi lay on the wooden plank bed, with his two nephews beside him—one five years old, the other three.
Lu Shenzhi pondered what to do next. Living his whole life in this border town was impossible. The environment was harsh, surrounded by military households, and at dawn tomorrow, they would have to repair the city walls again.
He sifted through memories of the original owner’s entire life, and gradually, two plans began to take shape in his mind. Eventually, he couldn’t help but fall asleep.
***
In the Earth dimension, Lu Shenzhi neither entered the book world nor the drama, which made Lin Xi and the others in the group chat a bit uneasy.
The group chat was much the same. Lu Shenzhi didn’t say much, usually only chatting during the evenings. Everyone treated him kindly; when sharing things, they included his portion, but otherwise, there wasn’t much interaction.
Lin Xi also got busy because the second floor of the guesthouse had started to have its roof built, and it was time to dismantle the wooden walls on the first floor.
In the past few days, Lin Xi had been trailing behind Boss Feng all over the building materials market. She planned to use wood for the guesthouse’s floor. While there was plenty of wood flooring available, good quality was scarce. After two days of careful selection, she finally made her choice.
The window frames for the guesthouse needed to be wooden, and they had to be custom-made before going to the glass factory for cutting. Lin Xi went out early every morning and only returned at night.
Fortunately, there was nothing urgent in the group chat, no new members had joined, and Xue Min hadn’t been wandering around her place.
Only when things had settled down did Lin Xi realize it was already March on the Gregorian calendar, the second month of the lunar calendar. The peach and plum trees she had planted last winter had sprouted new leaves, and the lotus flowers in the pond by the door were beginning to bud, their leaves turning green.
Everyone had swapped their heavy winter clothes for light spring outfits.
A month had passed, and Lin Xi felt time was flying by incredibly fast.
She couldn’t help but sigh in the group chat. Time passed quickly on her side, but for those who had crossed dimensions, it passed even faster.
Especially in Bai Qingting’s world.
She had now caught up to the mortal realm. She had no other intention—just wanting to have Yu Xiao regain his memories of the Heavenly Court when his relationship with Tang Jin was at its peak. Although it didn’t really matter, she found the “dog-eat-dog” drama endlessly entertaining.
Meanwhile, the interstellar ABO world of Wen Wan had already descended into chaos.
[“The entire ABO Wen Wan family has: Beta rebels fighting Alpha squads. The whole galaxy is in turmoil.”]
Wen Wan only learned of this news after logging onto the Star Network this morning: [“No one knows how long the Betas had been planning. They launched simultaneous attacks. The same thing happened on planet M248. It’s said the planetary government has already been overtaken by the Beta forces.”]
Wen Wan’s expression was grave. She had long known that the ABO society, with its inherent deformities, would lead to war, but she had never expected the conflict to erupt so soon!
Wen Wan transferred all the star coins she earned from that cheesy novel on the star network into her own account, preparing to stay put and keep a low profile here. At the same time, she kept a close watch on the situation next door at Zhao Xuelian’s house from upstairs.
The news about Wen Wan turned the atmosphere in the group chat serious.
There was nothing more they could do to help Wen Wan. She already had powerful weapons with high destructive power, plenty of food and supplies stocked up, and various pills and special medicines were not lacking either.
They comforted Wen Wan in the group chat. Wen Wan wasn’t afraid—not only because of the heavy-duty weapons in her hands but also because she was a beta. She didn’t know about other planets, but on M248, betas held the advantage.
While chatting with her friends in the group, Wen Wan casually browsed the star network of M248 and only then realized she knew the leader of the beta army.
Back when she escaped from the planetary lord’s mansion to avoid the pursuit of his guards, she had taken refuge in his home.
Wen Wan was both surprised and not surprised. She hadn’t wasted her time on M248. She knew about General Zhou Min. He came from the capital planet, and his whole family was military, all betas. Because they were betas, no matter how capable they were, the highest rank they could achieve was general.
They could never enter the council.
Despite their outstanding contributions to the federation, they couldn’t reach the pinnacle of power simply because they weren’t Alphas. It was only a matter of time before this became a problem.
On M248, the Alphas and Omegas had already been controlled, but the betas were still free to act.
Since her life was no longer in danger, Wen Wan was especially curious about how her ex-husband’s family was doing now.
So she stepped out onto the street and headed toward the planetary lord’s mansion. There were still many vagrants at the entrance, some of whom she recognized. She handed one of them a steamed bun and casually struck up a conversation.
“Kid, do you know how the planetary lord’s Omega is doing?”
Even beggars had their own channels for news. They might not get the big scoop, but small gossip was no problem.
The planetary lord’s Omega was never a big deal.
“The planetary lord had given him growth hormones before, hoping to make him deliver the baby early. Things got chaotic yesterday—he gave birth to the child.” The little beggar was enjoying the bun with relish.
In the interstellar world, childbirth no longer had to follow the natural nine-month gestation. When conditions allowed, growth hormones could be used once the child was stable. Aside from some risks to the birthing party, there were no other issues.
Qiao Yisi was already quite old and didn’t want to wait so long. He hoped his child would be born early. If the baby was an Alpha, everyone would be delighted; if it was an Omega, he would have to start planning ahead.
This was the biggest difference between the ABO world Wen Wan had traveled into and the ABO worlds in novels. In this world’s ABO system, there was no secondary differentiation. Each individual’s type was set at birth.
This was also why Wen Wan kept insisting that Alphas and Omegas were reproductively isolated from betas.
Wen Wan was thrilled: “What did it give birth to?”
“Give me one more steamed bun, and I’ll tell you.” The little beggar had already finished one bun, and this request wasn’t too much to ask. Wen Wan kindly handed him another.
The little beggar ate with great satisfaction. Qiao Yisi had excellent control over M248. For ordinary people, being well-fed and nourished was no small feat—most of them survived on nutrient liquids. Nutrient liquids were good, but the happiness from eating a big steamed bun was incomparable.
“They had a male Omega. Apparently, his health isn’t very good.”
With each word the little beggar spoke, the smile on Wen Wan’s face grew wider. Overjoyed, she gave him two more buns, stuffed with pure meat filling. She had steamed them herself yesterday, experimenting in the kitchen.
Just as she was about to leave, her eyes met those of a man in a military uniform coming out of the Planet Lord’s mansion. The man was none other than Zhou Min, the very one who had scared off the Planet Lord’s guards for Wen Wan before.
Zhou Min had been monitoring the Planet Lord’s mansion for a long time. He remembered Wen Wan—if he hadn’t known her, she would have been killed the moment she barged into his place.
Now, unexpectedly running into her and locking eyes, Zhou Min instinctively nodded at Wen Wan before leading his men away.
Wen Wan didn’t dwell on the encounter. Instead, she was busy pondering how to sneak into the Planet Lord’s mansion to watch the commotion.
“Three of these, I’ll take you there.” The little beggar’s voice suddenly sounded beside Wen Wan, startling her.
“How did you know I wanted to see it?” Wen Wan double-checked, certain she hadn’t spoken her thoughts aloud.
“We’ve worked together so many times, we know you have a grudge against the Planet Lord’s Omega. So, are you coming or not?”
Still clutching her weapon, she kept practicing the Yishu Thirteen Classics relentlessly. After hesitating, Wen Wan finally decided to go.
“Let’s go.”
The little beggar handed out the buns to his little brothers, then led Wen Wan twisting and turning until they reached the back of the Planet Lord’s mansion. He squatted down, wiggled his hips, and dug out a dog-sized hole. Then, without hesitation, he slipped inside.
Wen Wan glanced at it twice but didn’t crawl through the hole. Instead, she took a running start and jumped over the wall.
The little beggar, barely over a meter tall, looked at Wen Wan’s showy move with a smirk. He led her weaving through the mansion’s interior, completely unafraid of being seen.
This left Wen Wan speechless. She held back her frustration for a while but finally couldn’t help herself: “Kid, aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”
The little beggar replied, “You don’t get it, do you? Our whole family works inside the Planet Lord’s mansion. My big brother is even a subordinate of General Zhou Min. Otherwise, how do you think I know so much about what goes on here?”
Hearing this, Wen Wan understood. Qiao Yisi’s exploitation of betas was ruthless, regardless of status. The people inside the mansion were exploited even more severely. The matter of the Prime Minister’s gatekeeper position, a third-rank official, only concerned Alphas; betas weren’t involved.
“Come on, come on, I’ll take you to see the Planet Lord’s Omega.”
After turning another corner, Wen Wan saw Zhao Xuanqi, who had just given birth. Zhao Xuanqi was still wearing his tailcoat, his face pale, and his legs moved awkwardly as he walked. His father, Zhao Mushan, was with him.
Zhao Mushan’s expression was somewhat dazed when he looked at the newborn male Omega his son had just brought into the world.
Good news: he had a grandson. Bad news: his grandson was born to his own son.
While he was lost in thought, Zhao Xuelian and Du Ermei arrived.
Du Ermei was thin and frail, her exposed skin covered in various bruises. Zhao Xuelian looked better, but she had gained two full sizes.
Back on Earth, Zhao Xuelian was just over 1.5 meters tall and weighed a little over 100 pounds. Now, she was still around 1.5 meters, but her figure had ballooned to 150 pounds. Her previous delicate charm was gone.
All this was because her Alpha liked chubby partners. So, he fed her a lot of food, and in just a few months, Zhao Xuelian had swollen like an inflated balloon.
Her already small eyes were now squeezed into mere slits.
None of them even glanced at the root of the old Zhao family they had been longing for.
Zhao Xuelian hurriedly said, “Dad, Mom, big brother, don’t you all get the feeling that we’re about to leave?”
Zhao Xuanqi exchanged a glance with Zhao Mushan. “Yeah, Xuelian, do you feel it too? I have a strong sense that I’m going back.”
Zhao Mushan was very excited. Although life on Earth hadn’t been as luxurious, at least his dignity was intact. Back on Earth, no one constantly coveted his backside and belly like here.
Du Ermei, seeing that they all shared this feeling, couldn’t help but smile. These past few months had been harder for her than the entire previous year.
Being beaten every day was bad enough, but she also had to serve the old man, whose old age stench nearly suffocated her.
The group quickly connected, and Zhao Mushan and Zhao Xuanqi marched straight to their rooms. Soon after, they pulled out the gold, silver, and jewels they had gathered during their stay.
While stuffing the treasures into their pockets, they laughed wildly, “We’re rich! So much gold and jewels, we’re going home rich!”
The four of them, as if putting aside all past grievances, laughed heartily together. Zhao Xuelian even put on several large bracelets, stacking them on her arms.
Wen Wan sensed something was wrong. Pretending to cover her mouth, she discreetly took an invisibility pill.
The moment her figure vanished, a few halos of light enveloped Zhao Xuanqi’s family. Moments later, they all disappeared, including the little male Omega in the baby stroller on the ground. Meanwhile, the gold and jewels that should have been taken away by the Zhao family fell noisily to the ground.
A little beggar, frightened, collapsed onto the ground. He glanced sideways and saw that Wen Wan, who had just been beside him, had vanished. Terrified, he scrambled to run away.
Once he was gone, Wen Wan followed without hesitation. She was furious with herself for being careless. She hadn’t expected the Zhao family to have a chance to leave, let alone that it would be such a coincidence that these few people left. Right now, she was absolutely livid.
The Zhao family were truly a bunch of troublemakers. Fortunately, she had withdrawn the money from her StarNet account before leaving in the morning. She rarely kept personal belongings in the rented room either—otherwise, it could have been disastrous. She took out a disguise pill from her space and swallowed it. At the same time, she sent her home address to Lin Xi, asking her to check on the Zhao family of four.
Upon receiving the message, Lin Xi headed straight to Wen Wan’s place.
An hour later, Lin Xi arrived at the Zhao family’s neighborhood. Before even stepping out of the car, she saw the entire Zhao family of four handcuffed by the police.
Meanwhile, Wen Wan received a system notification: [Detected that all group members have traveled through the ABO world. Wen Wan meets the criteria for returning. Would Wen Wan like to return? PS: After returning, all memories of this group will be erased, and memories of the ABO world will fade.]
