Chapter 26: Chapter Twenty-Six: Played Enough

A night of passion.

The next day, after tidying up at Wang Manni’s place, Wang Yan returned home to Junyue Mansion.

Wang Yan absolutely would not tolerate Wan Zong’s groping of Gu Jia.

Wang Yan didn’t have such a clean-freak mentality; even if he had, it had been thoroughly cured. But the targets he set his sights on—he hadn’t even laid a finger on them yet—and that old bastard Wan Zong just waltzed in and started feeling them up. Xu Huanshan was legally entitled, so he couldn’t do anything—but that old bastard Wan Zong? He hadn’t even been dealt with yet.

These past few days, Wang Yan hadn’t been idle—he’d been chasing people, spending money, and gathering plenty of dirt. He’d gone through no small amount of trouble for all this.

In modern society, finding dirt is undoubtedly easiest and most efficient through online channels.

Just hiring hackers cost him a fortune; even though money could move gods, the process of moving them couldn’t be avoided.

In other worlds later, if he wanted to get things done, he’d have to scour the globe for people—that’d be too slow. So Wang Yan conceived the idea of learning computer technology, since it was so useful in modern society.

Wang Yan organized the materials and planned to anonymously report Wan Zong, sending the bastard straight to jail.

After Wang Yan left, Wang Manni confidently went to work.

When she arrived, she was immediately summoned by the company’s investigators and property management—this matter had to be resolved today, no matter what.

Wang Manni, confident and prepared, laid out Wang Yan’s plan to them and requested to review the surveillance footage again.

The result was obvious—they caught Linda, the mastermind behind it all. After a heated argument, Linda quit on her own.

After losing Wan Zong’s contract, Gu Jia mortgaged her newly bought house and took out a loan to keep her company afloat.

Two days later, Mrs. Xu called her, asking her to attend a gathering of the wives’ circle. At this gathering, Gu Jia met Mrs. Yu and learned she ran an amusement park—this sparked some ideas in her.

The group photo from the gathering, in which Gu Jia had been erased, made her understand what it meant to be ignored. She began scheming to buy a bag good enough to open the door to the wives’ circle.

Xu Huanshan didn’t understand Gu Jia’s thinking—he couldn’t fathom how a bag could solve the company’s crisis. But the authority she’d built over the years silenced his resistance, and he eventually agreed.

He scraped together a sum of money to buy her the bag, but inwardly he still scoffed. He’d long harbored resentment toward her, and now he added another point to his tally.

Because of this, it ultimately came full circle—through Zhong Xiaoqin, they ended up at Wang Manni’s door.

Although Wang Yan had stolen the chance to rescue Wang Manni from disaster, they still ended up meeting.

Wang Manni had worked in luxury sales for years and had some connections—she smoothly acquired the bag Gu Jia needed.

Gu Jia thus successfully appeared in the wives’ circle group photo, no longer the one cut out.

Because of all this, Gu Jia’s fondness for Wang Manni skyrocketed—the Three Sisters of Thirty were finally complete.

Wang Manni also received notice from her landlord telling her to move out immediately.

She was torn—now, if she wanted to live somewhere this good, it would be nearly impossible.

In reality, she didn’t have much money, and maintaining her quality-of-life spending was extremely high. If not for occasionally stringing along a couple of suckers, she’d have collapsed long ago—loan sharks would’ve been knocking on her door.

Frustrated, she happened to get promoted to supervisor, and her company reimbursed her for a vacation. She wanted to use this chance to truly relax and clear her head.

At their gathering, they discussed the difference between standard and executive cabins on the cruise. Gu Jia, likely forgetting her own past poverty—or simply assuming Wang Manni’s resources were sufficient—suggested she upgrade. She went on and on. Wang Manni couldn’t take it—when Gu Jia spoke, Wang Manni could already picture it, her mind flashing scenes like a movie. She filed this away.

After they parted, Wang Manni lay in bed thinking about what preparations she needed for the European cruise—and no matter how hard she thought, it always came back to money.

She thought again of Wang Youquan—Wang Yan—and wondered if she could hustle some cash out of him. The fifty thousand she’d gotten last time had already been spent on bags and cosmetics. This time, she’d initiated contact again, and Wang Yan had forgotten about paying her. Overall, Wang Yan had the advantage—but she hadn’t lost out either.

She immediately called Wang Yan.

This time, she was confident he wouldn’t hang up—she’d pulled so many stunts on him before, and she was sure he’d been satisfied.

Sure enough, he answered and immediately agreed, telling her to get ready.

It wasn’t Wang Yan’s fault—he couldn’t help it. A face nearly identical to a world-famous celebrity, paired with the personality from a film world—who could possibly resist?

Having lived through two worlds, Wang Yan’s experiences had broadened, his realm had risen—but this kind of fresh, thrilling sensation? No one could resist it. Who wouldn’t enjoy free play?

That night, after Wang Yan arrived, the two enjoyed themselves.

As usual, Wang Yan lit a post-coital cigarette. Wang Manni lay limp on his chest.

She began muttering again about the European cruise trip.

Hearing this, Wang Yan understood—she wanted money.

Wang Yan couldn’t help thinking of Liang Zhengxian—that bastard’s looks outclassed his by miles, and his sweet talk was more than enough. In seduction and flattery, Wang Yan was no match.

But Wang Yan didn’t need flashy tricks. For material things, he just threw money. For non-material things, his personal charm, given enough time, could win anyone over. Didn’t even Gu Jia, so steadfast in marriage, crack under pressure?

Compared to Liang Zhengxian, his approach was just slower—it was a loss in looks alone.

Wang Yan thought seriously—it seemed Wang Manni’s logic made sense.

Ultimately, between them, it was an exchange: Wang Yan paid for comfort; Wang Manni traded her body for cash. What she did with the money afterward? That was her business. Wang Yan had no right to interfere—it had nothing to do with him.

Once he understood, Wang Yan stopped playing games—he transferred her one hundred thousand, covering the previous amount too.

Wang Yan didn’t want to drag this out anymore. After the initial novelty wore off, he found it meaningless—he was done.

It was just a few tiers above three hundred bucks—more upscale, sure, but really, it was just the same.

He got dressed, didn’t linger, and left with a single line: “It’s over.”

Wang Manni watched him get dressed and leave, heard “it’s over,” and was utterly confused—she didn’t understand what was happening.

She’d seen this too many times. She knew that once they’d slept together so easily, there was no future between them. She’d expected this—but still, she felt a pang of regret. After all, he was the only rich man in years who’d treated her well.

Wang Yan had been generous—he gave her one hundred fifty thousand. Even if she’d gotten every cent, how much had Liang Zhengxian given her total?

He figured Wang Manni had been fooled—she’d fallen in love. She was genuinely aiming for marriage; otherwise, why act so desperate and dramatic?

Back home, Wang Yan washed up and went to sleep.

Time passed slowly. Gu Jia successfully struck up a conversation with Mrs. Yu. They bonded over raising children and learning horseback riding; Gu Jia would casually chat with Mrs. Yu. After all, Mrs. Yu had no children of her own and no experience—Gu Jia, with her expertise, gave her advice on how a stepmother should interact with her son.

Gradually, Mrs. Yu’s fondness for Gu Jia grew, and she finally introduced her to her husband, the amusement park tycoon.

To be fair, in sales and management, Gu Jia was more than capable. The fireworks company’s growth to this point owed much to her.

By personal ability, Wang Manni, despite eight years in sales, was nowhere near her level.

Pillow talk really worked—Gu Jia successfully secured the amusement park’s order. In the process, Xu Huanshan couldn’t hold a conversation with real rich people—he felt out of place, lost his temper, and added another point to his tally.

Wang Yan handed all the tasks over to his subordinates. With no business of his own, he practiced calligraphy and studied computers at home.

Computers were essentially a logic problem—and Wang Yan’s logic, thinking, and learning ability were more than sufficient. He didn’t need a teacher—he just studied on his own and picked it up well enough.

He planned to learn construction first, then destruction—starting from assembly language, then C, then Java, Python, and others. His learning ability was strong, his progress impressive—in just a few days, his computer skills reached Level 1 beginner.

That afternoon, Wang Yan was practicing calligraphy at home when he received a message from Gu Jia: Xu Ziyang wanted to come over and play.

Wang Yan thought: Finally, Xu Ziyang was useful. He called property management and asked them to issue Gu Jia a card granting access to the 18th floor—under the excuse that it was convenient for the child to visit. A simple elevator card—Gu Jia thought about it and didn’t refuse.

When she arrived upstairs, Wang Yan was already waiting at the door.

Xu Ziyang ran over and hugged Wang Yan’s leg, calling him “Uncle Wang” happily.

Gu Jia smiled apologetically at Wang Yan. Wang Yan said nothing, just signaled it was fine.

He picked up Xu Ziyang and walked inside: “I heard you missed Uncle Wang. Tell me—where did you miss him?”

Xu Ziyang, childishly, replied: “Everywhere.”

Wang Yan laughed: “Haha, you’re a sly little one.”

He then asked Gu Jia: “Where’s Xu? Why do I always see you alone with the kid?”

Gu Jia sighed: “Am I not a full-time mom and housewife? Of course I take care of the child.”

“Huanshan has to support the family. Just the other day, the company landed a big contract—he’s swamped.”

Wang Yan nodded and said no more. A little poison now and then was enough—one or two remarks sufficed.

Inside, Xu Ziyang found everything fascinating, dragging Wang Yan around the house. Last time he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen anything.

Gu Jia scolded Xu Ziyang, telling him to behave.

Wang Yan couldn’t just watch—he honestly felt Gu Jia’s elite education was flawed.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t elite? Or maybe he still carried the mindset of that commoner he once was?

“It’s fine, Gu Jia. If the kid’s happy and wants to look, let him look—it’s not like there’s anything forbidden.”

He turned to Xu Ziyang: “Forget what Mom says—we’ll play our own game.”

Xu Ziyang was thrilled—he’d been worn out by Gu Jia’s endless classes and lessons. That’s why he’d begged to see Wang Yan—he just wanted to have fun.

Children forget easily. At home, Gu Jia never mentioned Wang Yan—she felt guilty. Only Xu Huanshan ever brought him up; Wang Yan had made such a good impression that Xu Ziyang saw him as a confidant, someone he could talk to comfortably.

That’s why Xu Ziyang remembered Wang Yan—he’d often talk about wanting to play with him. Today, he finally exploded—screaming and crying, refusing to listen to anything unless he could see Uncle Wang.

He stuck out his tongue at Gu Jia, then dragged Wang Yan around asking questions. Everything in the house had meaning—even the ornaments carried symbolism. Wang Yan patiently explained everything, teaching him bits of knowledge, broadening his horizons.

Watching Wang Yan and Xu Ziyang laugh and chatter, Gu Jia felt happy too—she could tell Wang Yan genuinely liked Xu Ziyang. In that moment, she remembered how, long ago, their family of three had been just as joyful—but it had been so long since they’d had such moments.

Sunlight streamed through the wide floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room, warm and soothing, making one want to sleep.

Unconsciously, Gu Jia fell asleep in the lounge chair on the balcony.

The atmosphere was harmonious, warm, peaceful—time seemed to stand still.

Time passed in Wang Yan and Xu Ziyang’s laughter and play—before long, it was evening.

Wang Yan said: “Ziyang, Uncle’s hungry. Are you hungry?”

Xu Ziyang nodded, pulling Wang Yan’s hand: “Uncle Wang, I’ve been hungry for a while. Let’s go eat together.”

“Alright, let’s eat together today.”

He turned to Gu Jia, who had just woken up and was reading: “Gu Jia, call Huanshan.”

“He’s got so much work—how can he finish it all? Tell him to come home early. Let’s all go out for dinner. And let’s have a drink—last time we didn’t finish.”

Hearing Wang Yan mention alcohol, Gu Jia remembered what happened after the last drink—her face flushed.

She quickly turned away, pretending to look for her phone: “Okay, I’ll call him, tell him to head out now.”

Wang Yan began looking for a restaurant. In the past, when he had no money, fine—but now that he had money, he wouldn’t settle for anything less.

He picked a restaurant with sufficient class, called ahead. It was dinner hour—crowded, of course. But luckily, with a beautiful woman beside him, fortune smiled: he secured a table without trouble.

He didn’t let Gu Jia drive—instead, they took his A8 together.

They hadn’t been there long when Xu Huanshan arrived.

Hearing Gu Jia say they were drinking with Wang Yan, he knew the aftermath would be unpleasant—but the experience itself was still good.

He now wanted to unburden his heart to Wang Yan, this kindred spirit, and vent about the frustrations of the past few weeks.

Soon, the food and drinks arrived. They weren’t strangers to this, so no formalities were observed.

Wang Yan and Xu Huanshan immediately downed a glass each, nearly two taels of liquor gone. Gu Jia wanted to join them, but remembering last time, she knew drinking too much would cause trouble—so neither of them let her drink.

After a few more sips, the alcohol settled, and Xu Huanshan’s floodgates opened.

First, he apologized for his son disturbing Wang Yan; after all, he was the father, and it was only right to acknowledge his son’s troublemaking.

Wang Yan said he truly liked Xu Ziyang, and that their conversation had been delightful. He then casually proposed adopting him as an honorary son—bringing them even closer.

Then Xu Huanshan let it all out, recounting his recent experiences with Boss Wan and the time he’d played golf with his wife’s husband.

As for Boss Wan, he’d been taken away for investigation just the other day; according to Gu Jia’s sources, he’d never be seen again. Gu Jia had been overjoyed at the news, though she hadn’t thought of Wang Yan at all. She’d told no one—how could anyone else know? In the end, she could only chalk it up to cosmic retribution and karmic balance.

Wang Yan, meanwhile, comforted him, sharing bits of his own experiences.

There’s a saying: when you have a conversation that’s incredibly pleasant and effortless with someone, maybe they’re just humoring you? Isn’t that how it goes?

Right now, that was exactly the situation—Wang Yan’s cultural refinement, personal cultivation, and inner stature were plainly evident, and his life experiences far outshone Xu Huanshan’s by more than eight leagues.

Xu Huanshan had come to regard Wang Yan as his life mentor, a guiding light.

The more they talked, the happier they became, and without noticing, they drank even more.

Gu Jia had been watching them closely, hearing every word clearly. She was delighted, because many things she couldn’t say to Xu Huanshan—he’d repeatedly referred to Xu Ziyang as the younger son while positioning himself as the elder.

Wang Yan was different; Xu Huanshan respected him more, and was willing to listen to what he said.

She didn’t need much—just that Xu Huanshan stop being so resentful toward social niceties.