Chapter 960: The Fan Meeting

PS: There’s a bonus chapter after this one.

Main text:

“Why would I, so young, eat this?” Mom laughed. “What I mean is, Grandpa and Grandma are getting old, their health declining day by day—if they could have one of these, it’d be perfect.”

Luo Quan replied immediately: “Don’t worry, Grandpa and Grandma have theirs too—I got three in total, all three elders get one.”

“Our big girl really knows how to handle things,” Mom said, satisfied, patting her daughter’s shoulder.

“By the way, Mom, how’d you enjoy yourself in London?” Luo Quan asked curiously. “You didn’t know a soul there—must’ve been boring.”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started.”

At the mention, Luo Ni burst into complaints, pouring out her grievances to her daughter: “Life there—pace, food, entertainment—it’s nothing like here.”

You know those uncles and aunts in your dad’s family—they’re all too busy to ever be home. When I go shopping or take the kids out, I’m always surrounded by servants. It’s just not comfortable at all.”

Occasionally I go to those wealthy ladies’ afternoon teas—they talk about nothing but luxury goods or which guy’s hot. Honestly, I start wondering if they’re even married.”

Back home, when I was bored, I could just get together for mahjong. In London, I can’t do anything—and the food’s terrible.”

As if a dam had broken, Mom dumped out all her discomforts from these past days.

But really, this discomfort only applied to certain aspects—once you’re financially free, living comfortably is actually very simple.

What Mom truly struggled with was probably loneliness.

After living in the U.S. for so long, she’d made quite a few friends.

After arriving in London, those friends could only be reached by phone—it was truly painful.

Of course, those first few days were unbearably dull.

Later, she found a good way to pass the time—watching videos—and life became much easier.

Online videos now cover everything—educational, funny, dramatic, absurd, talent-based—you can always find something you like.

Luo Ni herself watches everything—Douyin, Constable, Bilibili—but rarely comments.

Most videos are nutrition-free, but they’re perfect for killing time.

“By the way, I knitted you a few sweaters while I was in London.”

Luo Ni suddenly remembered, pulling a dark wool sweater from her suitcase.

No flashy stripes or fancy stitching—every stitch was plain and humble, smooth to the touch.

“Really nice—I’ll try it on and see if it fits.”

Luo Quan took off her coat and began putting on the sweater.

Mom kept muttering: “While I was idle over there, I looked for ways to pass the time, and finally decided knitting was the most reliable—I made one each for you, your dad, your brother, Mia, and Wen Xia.”

I figured by the time I got back, winter would be here, so they’d be perfect to wear.”

But it’s already mid-October, and it doesn’t feel especially cold yet—I guess I’ll have to wait a bit longer before anyone can wear them.”

Listening to Mom’s rambling, Luo Quan slipped on the sweater and tugged at the hems to straighten them.

“How’s it feel? Comfortable?” Luo Ni tugged at the sleeves, her heart full of joy.

“Comfortable, but it’s a bit tight across the chest.” Luo Quan lifted her neck, trying to loosen the collar.

Luo Ni looked down and saw the sweater stretched taut by her daughter’s well-formed figure, forming two distinct curves.

“Oh no, I forgot to leave room there!”

Luo Ni slapped her thigh in dismay. “I swear, you weren’t this exaggerated back in January—how’d you change so much in less than a year?”

“Better food, second puberty, I guess,” Luo Quan said helplessly.

It had been stuck at 34E for a while, but this year it grew a bit more—if it keeps going, it’ll become 34F.

Luo Quan actually thought 34E was already fine—going bigger would make filming movies inconvenient.

Like that female star in entertainment, famous since debut for her exceptional assets.

But she also suffered endless criticism and discrimination because of them.

With Luo Quan’s current status, she won’t face the same fate—but such extraordinary development is still a nuisance.

So if her figure keeps growing like this, she’ll need to buy some medicine from the system’s shop to curb it.

For every gain, there’s a loss—the shop has plenty of breast-enhancing pills, and also some breast-reducing ones. Choosing a mild one should solve her problem.

“Alright, take it off. Wear it when it gets colder.”

Luo Ni checked and saw the sweater hadn’t stretched to the point of unraveling—so it wasn’t a big issue.

But next time she knits a sweater, she’ll need to make extra room for her eldest daughter.

As for Luo Quan, though the sweater didn’t fit perfectly, she was deeply moved—it was handmade by her mother.

The last time she received a handmade gift from Mom was on her seventeenth birthday, when Mom baked her a birthday cake.

The baking wasn’t skilled, but Luo Quan thought it was the sweetest cake she’d ever eaten—far surpassing any famous bakery’s.

Gifts with this kind of familial value always hold a huge place in her heart.

The cake was like that, the sweater is like that—though they’re cheap little things, to her they’re more precious than million- or billion-dollar gifts.

After taking off the sweater, Luo Quan carefully folded it and brought it to her room, placing it in the closet.

Luo Ni got up and followed her daughter into the room, looking around.

The room carried an unfamiliar faint fragrance—not like common incense or shower gel.

The quilt was neatly folded and laid flat on the bed; the vase, photo album, and books were arranged artfully on the desk; the floor held no clutter, clean enough to reflect her face.

“You’ve really grown up,” Luo Ni sighed inwardly.

When she was in high school, her room wasn’t this tidy—books, test papers, ballpoint pens scattered everywhere, messy as anything.

Now, everything was orderly, just like her life.

The only regret was still no boyfriend—that was the thing her dad constantly brought up.

Whether in the U.S. or the U.K., many prestigious families had come seeking a match.

She’d met plenty of boys—all outstanding.

But whenever she mentioned it, her daughter would complain.

Over time, she and Eric stopped bringing it up.

But it’s a lifelong matter—not mentioning it doesn’t mean it doesn’t need consideration.

Leon is about to become a father, yet Luo Quan, the eldest, hasn’t made a single move. She and Eric were genuinely anxious—when they couldn’t sleep at night, most of their conversations revolved around this.

But they couldn’t force her like feudal patriarchs, so they felt helpless.

What could they do? Their daughter wasn’t worried—given her world’s most beautiful face and such a figure, even at forty, she’d never lack suitors.

But if she waited until forty to find someone, childbirth would become complicated.

Still, she trusted her daughter knew what she was doing, and that no matter the outcome, she wouldn’t regret it.

As a mother, she only wanted to see her daughter grow up healthy, then slowly age together.

People don’t just grow old with spouses—they grow old with their parents too, though parents age faster and aren’t always around, so the concept is less clear.

“What are you staring at, Mom?” Luo Quan suddenly snapped Luo Ni out of her thoughts.

Luo Ni shook her shoulders. “I was checking if you had any clothes to wash—I thought I’d tidy up, but your room’s neater than my bedroom.”

Luo Quan laughed. “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore—do you still wash my clothes? People would think I’m a giant baby.”

Luo Ni shrugged. “No matter how old you are, you’re still my baby, still flesh from my body.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Luo Quan laughed, wrapping her arms around Mom and guiding her out. “What’s for dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”

“Braised pork belly and preserved vegetable with pork,” Luo Ni blurted out two hearty dishes.

When she was little, her daughter loved pork strips—like fish-flavored pork, lettuce pork, carrot pork.

But Mom loved fatty, chunky dishes like these—greasy, yes, but deeply satisfying.

Luo Quan knew Mom had been in London too long, hadn’t eaten home-cooked food in ages—she understood that feeling completely.

So she had the property management deliver two excellent cuts of pork belly, and for dinner, she didn’t just make the two dishes Mom mentioned—she added braised pork belly too.

“Wow, this food smells insane.”

Leon greedily inhaled the aroma at the table—he’d never seen his sister cook so vigorously. This braised pork belly glowed like it was on fire—taste must be incredible!

“Smell it all you want, but sit down already—stop posing.”

Luo Quan popped a Pill of the Divine Physician into her mouth.

Bai Xingwei said: one pill per day, taken before meals.

“Luo Luo, what are you taking?” Wen Xia, seeing Luo Quan—who’d always been healthy—take medicine, grew curious.

“New digestive pill. Take it before meals to boost digestion and absorption—solves the problem of never feeling full.”

Luo Quan made up a lie, leaving everyone stunned.

Digestive pills are always taken after meals—why take them before?

But since it’s a new version, maybe the effect is different.

Honestly, Luo Quan’s previous appetite was terrifying—she’d used the rice cooker as a bowl. She really needed some medicine to regulate it.

Indeed, with the Pill of the Divine Physician, the hunger pang from her stomach vanished instantly at mealtime.

Her appetite returned to normal—about two and a half small bowls.

For a martial artist girl, this was perfectly normal.

But perhaps because her own cooking was so delicious, everyone else ate more than usual.

Especially Luo Ni—she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d eaten such delicious home cooking.

Her daughter was truly a culinary god—this skill was unmatched!

Because the food was so good, no one talked during dinner.

After eating their fill, everyone waddled off to their rooms, bellies swollen—each one looked more pregnant than Mia.

After eating, Luo Quan simply washed up.

Since she had already bathed today, she had no intention of bathing again.

Partly because it wasn’t her habit, and partly because she didn’t have the time.

The fan meeting was scheduled for eight p.m., but she was busy cooking in person until just after seven.

After eating, she didn’t rest at all; she went straight upstairs, turned on her laptop, and moved the livestream to the recording studio.

Compared to her room, the recording studio was quieter, and all the instruments were kept in this room—she could turn her head and grab whatever she needed.

She opened the livestream and changed the title to “Fan Meeting.”

The moment she changed the title, the livestream’s viewership surged past ten million.

In fact, many fans had already been waiting in the livestream since half past seven; they had expected some behind-the-scenes moments, but were disappointed to find the stream hadn’t started—only a group of early-arriving fan brothers were chatting.

From the chat, it was clear that many had been waiting in the livestream since six p.m., afraid of missing even a single moment.

Once the livestream opened, every fan who saw the notification and every passerby rushed in immediately.

Although there had been no large-scale promotion beforehand, Luo Quan’s inherent traffic was simply too terrifying—she had long dominated the trending charts, so nearly every young person online knew she was holding a fan meeting tonight.

In an era where concerts were no longer common, this low-budget version of a concert was still quite appealing, especially when the star was Luo Quan?

So whether or not they were her fans, everyone wanted to come and join the buzz.

Tonight, Luo Quan wore simple clothes—not as lavish and grand as during a concert—but with a distinct intellectual beauty.

“Good evening, fans. Has everyone eaten?” Luo Quan greeted, adjusting the microphone.

“Not yet—we’re just waiting for you to go live so we can eat.”

“Wow, can you even eat while listening to music?”

“I get hungrier just listening to Luo Quan’s voice.”

“I’m different—I eat because I look at Luo Quan’s face. (blushing.jpg)”

“So beauty is appetizing, huh?”

………………

The fans chattered back and forth, keeping the livestream’s viewership climbing steadily.

Seeing the audio was fine, Luo Quan smiled brightly: “Tuning’s done. I see many fans were already waiting here before the stream even started—you must’ve waited a long time.”

So I won’t waste any more time—let’s begin today’s main event.

First love song: “Clock in the Opposite Direction,” dedicated to you all!”

As she spoke, Luo Quan picked up her guitar.

This song needed no accompaniment—she could perform it alone with just the guitar.

As the clear, melodious guitar harmonics rang out, every fan in the livestream felt as if they had just heard celestial music and their ears were suddenly enlightened.

Only Luo Quan could do this—just one move, and she completely captivated them.