Chapter 491

Zhang Xia works as a sales clerk at a cluster of stores selling renovation materials, chatting aimlessly with customers every day, earning about four thousand yuan a month. The work isn't very tiring—she starts at eight or nine in the morning and finishes by four or five in the afternoon.

Wang Dong is different—he carries bricks at construction sites, doing hard physical labor. He leaves at six or seven in the morning and doesn't return until six or seven at night. So Zhang Xia always buys groceries after work, cooks the meal, and waits for Wang Dong to come home before they eat together.

Today, as usual, Zhang Xia rode her electric scooter slowly back to the residential complex, charged it in the shed, then struggled up five flights of stairs with the groceries she'd bought.

No sooner had she pulled out her keys to open the door than she saw Wang Yan lounging on the sofa watching TV, grinning at her. She jumped—not from excitement, but from being startled by her son's sudden return. She caught her breath, handed the bags to her son as he got up to take them, and swatted him lightly: "You little brat, you come back and don't even say a word."

Wang Yan carried the bags into the kitchen: "I wanted to give you a surprise."

"A surprise? This is a shock!" Zhang Xia glared at him, changed her shoes at the door, and glanced around both rooms: "Where's Wei Lan? Did you come back alone?"

"Oh, she's still in Lin'an."

Zhang Xia sat down on the sofa, puzzled: "Then why did you come back? Did you and Wei Lan have a fight?"

"What kind of talk is that? Can't your son come home to see his parents even if nothing's wrong?"

"Your parents don't need you to visit—get married, have kids, let us hold our grandchild already. Don't dodge the question—why are you really back?"

Wang Yan shook his head and smiled: "Dad's probably coming back soon too. I'll tell you both when we sit down to eat. You just sit and watch TV—I'll cook. Oh come on, Mom, don't look at me like that—it's good news! Just watch TV, stop glaring at me."

Zhang Xia snorted, ignoring her unlucky son, pulled out her phone, scrolled a bit, and as soon as the ringtone chimed, her stern expression instantly softened: "Xiao Lan, why didn't you come back with Wang Yan?"

Wei Lan's voice came through: "Auntie, I've still got things to handle here—I can't leave. When Wang Yan takes you and Uncle over, I'll show you both around Lin'an properly."

"That girl, Lin'an's so far away—why would we go all the way there? You'd just be bothered. When you come here, that's what we want. When will you come?"

"Ah…" Wei Lan paused, then smiled brightly: "Has Wang Yan not told you yet? Haha, then I won't say anything now, Auntie. Wait till you and Uncle get here—we'll talk properly then. Oh, I've got something else to take care of—I've got to go, Auntie, bye."

Zhang Xia stared at the disconnected call screen: "Hey, look at this kid—hung up so fast. Xiao Yan, what's going on? Tell Mom first, okay?"

When there's something, he's "Xiao Yan"; when there's nothing, he's "you little brat." Wang Yan shook his head: "It's not worth waiting a few minutes—Dad's coming back any minute. Why rush? Just watch TV, you'll find out soon enough."

Curiosity is good—but unfulfilled curiosity is bad. Zhang Xia was desperate to know what was happening, but her unlucky son wouldn't tell her, and his girlfriend had hung up after barely two sentences.

She couldn't focus on TV, muttered curses under her breath, and started tidying up her unlucky son's room, then washed the clothes he'd piled up over the past two days…

Wang Yan had taken a morning flight, landed in Chencheng after three hours, then took over an hour on the high-speed train, arriving home in the afternoon. He'd already bought and prepared the alcohol and dishes beforehand, so he simply fired up the stove, grabbed the big spatula, and cooked on both burners—one pot simmering, one pan stir-frying—clattering away quickly.

He timed it perfectly: just as he finished the last stir-fry and ladled out the braised beef, the old front door opened. Though he'd shaken off the dust for ages downstairs, Wang Dong still habitually stood outside, bowing his head to stomp the dirt off his shoes: "What's the occasion? Cooking all this?"

As he looked up, he saw Wang Yan—tall, broad, smiling in the living room—and paused, then stepped in with a grin: "You brat, you come back without warning? When did you get here? Didn't Wei Lan come with you?"

Wang Yan, as the son, knew his parents were happy inside—but they showed it the same way they always had, like when he came home from school as a child.

"I got home this afternoon. Wei Lan's got things to handle in Lin'an. Dad, go wash up and eat—I'll pour you a drink. We'll talk while we eat."

…

After everything was cleaned up, Wang Yan opened a bottle of Wuliangye he'd bought, poured one glass for himself, one for his father, and one for his mother.

"This wine isn't cheap, is it? Wasteful brat," Zhang Xia sipped and scolded him: "Spit it out—what's this trip really about? I've been holding my breath all day."

Wang Yan glanced at his father, who wore the same anxious expression, then grinned: "Wei Lan and I have decided—we're getting married next month."

"Really? Look at this girl—such big news, and she didn't even come back with you?"

"Mom, didn't Wei Lan already say you two should come over?" Wang Yan said. "Here's the deal: last week, we bought a house over there and are finalizing the paperwork. It's a resale, and we'll move in next month. Wei Lan's now buying furniture and cleaning it up. Since we're getting married, we figured we should meet both sets of parents. And since we bought the house, I came back to bring you two to see it, meet the in-laws, and discuss the wedding date."

"What? Bought a house? How big? How many bedrooms? How much did it cost? Is Wei Lan's name on it?"

Seeing his mother's reaction, Wang Yan shook his head and smiled: "Three bedrooms, two living rooms, two bathrooms—125 square meters. The listed price was just over 700,000, but we negotiated it down to nine million. With a 30% down payment and all the other fees, we spent a total of 2.8 million. We took a three-year loan—monthly payment is 200,000. The house has to be in Wei Lan's name—even though she didn't ask, I couldn't not put her name on it, right? Actually, Wei Lan already said before we didn't need to buy a house—we could just get married. If I couldn't afford it, fine. But since I can, I should buy one. You know Wei Lan—she's great."

He didn't take a thirty-year loan—he didn't lack the ability to repay, just the lump sum. His income won't drop—it'll only rise month after month. Now that he's bought the house and settled this, he can start planning a small factory—that's when the real money printer kicks in. Compared to that, all his current manual labor barely earns him pocket change.

Zhang Xia exhaled deeply: "That's what you say, but this house costs millions. What if you two divorce later?"

"Relax, Mom. We've been living together for a year—I know her better than anyone. We won't divorce. She even said we should have kids after we marry."

Wang Dong waved his hand: "He's got his own ideas, and I think Wei Lan's a good girl. Since her name's on the deed, why keep worrying? How did you get this money? I remember your mom telling me you had only 200,000 in your account when you left for the New Year—how in six months did you gather three million to buy a house? Didn't do anything illegal, did you?"

He knew this question was coming. Wang Yan picked up the glass bottle on the table: "You've been taking the pills I sent you, right?"

"We have. Hey, son—you're right, they really work. Since you left after the New Year, after we drank that remedy you found, we've felt lighter. After six months of taking these pills you sent, our health's improved. Before, we were always sore and achy every day—this year, we're full of energy. Where'd you get this medicine? Send some to your aunts too."

Wang Dong sighed: "We're talking serious business here—save the medicine talk for later."

"This is serious business, Dad. I produce these myself and sell them down south—they're selling well. Before, I sold them for 8,888 a bottle, cost 4,000. Starting this month, I raised the price. I sell ten or eight bottles a day—how can I not make money?"

Facing his parents' skepticism, Wang Yan rattled off his rags-to-riches story. How he got the formula? That's a long, long tale—he'd just make it up.

Accepting that their unlucky son was now a millionaire wasn't that hard—because they hadn't felt any real change in their daily lives. Everything still felt theoretical, not concrete.

So Wang Yan, watching his silent parents, said: "My suggestion—you two should stop working. I know you won't sit idle, and you don't want to move south with me—there's no one you know there. Here's what I'm thinking: I've only got 200,000 left now, not enough to live on. When Wei Lan and I come back next month to get married, I'll buy you a bigger elevator apartment, and a commercial shop—open a small supermarket, a laundry, something. Doesn't matter if you make money—just have something to do, stay busy."

"You talk like that," Zhang Xia grinned ear to ear: "Your dad and I don't know how to run a business."

Wang Dong, beside her, took a big sip of wine, chewed a bite of food, and grinned happily. His son had made it—good thing.

"But that's all later. Let's talk about now. Wei Lan's parents are arriving Wednesday night—when do we go?"

Zhang Xia thought a moment: "The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll buy things, and find someone to check the auspicious dates for moving and the wedding. This is a big deal—we must do it right, no rushing."

Wang Yan had no objections. Though he'd already cleared away all the ghosts and demons, this wasn't about whether some soothsayer had real power—it was about seeking smooth fortune on important days. Even he himself would cast divination before doing anything important—it was just how things were done.

After settling the serious matters and the schedule, the three of them laughed and chatted, catching up on the past half-year, gossiping about how friends and relatives were doing. What else could they talk about? Parents of their age, with little education, had nothing but daily life to discuss. They talked and ate, and before they knew it, it was past nine. After clearing the dishes, it was already ten.

After washing up, Wang Yan lay on his bed, arms folded behind his head, gazing out the window at the night sky, listening to his parents whispering softly in the next room. It seemed over—but how could he truly relax?

Wang Yan smiled, closed his eyes, and fell asleep…

He slept soundly through the night, woke early, dug out the long-overdue sports clothes from the closet, put them on, and went out to run along the Dalinghe. Back home, he washed up and ate yesterday's leftovers for breakfast. He listened to his mother nagging about whether he should've thrown out his old clothes—he had nothing to wear now, and so on.

After breakfast, Zhang Xia called around, found an old reliable soothsayer, planned what to buy, and by the time everything was ready, the three of them took a taxi out. As planned, they paid three thousand for a fortune-teller, plus miscellaneous purchases—including clothes and shoes for his parents—totaling under ten thousand.

The next morning, they left home, carrying heavy bags, their parents nervous, took the high-speed train to Chencheng, then a flight out of Northeast China in the afternoon, landing in Lin'an that night.

Though Wang Yan had told Wei Lan not to come, she was waiting at the exit anyway.

"Uncle, Auntie," Wei Lan waved from afar, rushed over, and took their bags: "Why bring so much? We've got everything here."

Zhang Xia held onto her own bag, turned to look at her son and husband trailing behind with the rest: "These are for your parents—when they leave, they'll take them back."

"They don't need anything, Auntie, you're too kind."

"How can it be the same? You're getting married—how could you go without gifts?" Zhang Xia held Wei Lan's hand, sighing: "Thank goodness Wang Yan came to get us—if not, we'd be like Old Liu entering the city, clueless everywhere."

"First time on a plane—how was it?"

"Oh my, so scary! I'm telling you, girl, back then my heart just went *whoosh*! But your uncle, that old rascal, was totally unfazed—he just walked right up and fell asleep..."

Laughing and chatting all the way outside, Wang Yan pulled out his phone and made a call. Soon, a young man came over, leading Wang Yan and the others to the parking lot, where they stopped before a seven-seat Mercedes minivan. He handed Wang Yan the keys, said a few words, then got into another car waiting nearby and drove off.

Wang Yan unlocked the car with the keys: "Mom, Dad, get in. This is my rental—much more convenient for getting around."

He'd arranged this through the internet these past two days. Originally, he'd wanted Wei Lan to drive it over, but though she had a license, she'd barely driven at all and was too nervous to take it on the road. So he paid extra to have it delivered.

The group loaded their bags into the car. Wei Lan went to the back to sit with the elderly couple. Wang Yan started the engine and drove off from Xiaoshan Airport, joining Gao Su highway toward the city.

Along the way, they listened as Wei Lan pointed out sights outside to the elders. Though traffic was slightly congested, their laughter made the ride feel light. Soon, they arrived at a restaurant and ate some fairly authentic Hangzhou cuisine.

After dinner, Wang Yan wanted to take them to a hotel to rest first, but Zhang Xia waved her hands repeatedly: "First, let's see the house you bought! I've been thinking about it all the way here—I won't be able to sleep unless I see it. Right, Lao Wang?"

Wang Dong, who'd just lit a post-meal cigarette, paused, then nodded vigorously: "Let's see it. We're not that tired today. Your mom and I are fine. It's only eight-thirty—way too early for bed."

What could Wang Yan say? He drove straight to the rental apartment, put away the random stuff they'd brought, let his parents poke at the cat and play with the dog, got a sense of the neighborhood's market value, then headed to the one-line riverside apartment they'd bought.

Over the past two days, he'd hired cleaners to tidy it up, and Wei Lan had already bought two cabinets she liked. Other than that, nothing else was in place.

The elderly couple wandered around the apartment, touching things here and there—not because they were impressed by how nice the place was. It was just concrete and steel, not some luxury villa, nothing special. They were just stunned: this shithouse cost nine million. Compared to their hometown, nine million there could buy ten or more identical apartments—making it even more maddening. On this point, the two elders unexpectedly agreed.

They knew big cities were different from their small hometown, but when it was their own unlucky son spending this much on a shithouse, it still felt awful.

Zhang Xia stood on the balcony, gazing at the city lights, then turned to Wang Yan and Wei Lan: "Have you two ever thought about going back home to develop? I'm not saying this to be mean—in this city, nine million buys you this? Back home, you wouldn't even need to work. Put that money in the bank, you'd get tens of thousands every month. Life would be so comfortable. Why suffer here?"

Wang Yan shook his head and smiled: "Mom, nine million is for this house. My entire net worth right now is barely twenty thousand. To save nine million, even with my monthly income of a million, I'd need over half a year. Plus, the environment here is much better than back home. And there's no computer industry there, consumer spending is weaker—going back would make it harder to earn. Should I just go back and wait to die? Money's never enough, right?"

Zhang Xia waved her hand, walked inside, and pulled Wei Lan aside: "Don't overthink it, girl. Your uncle and I have been poor our whole lives—our vision's too narrow, we're not fit for high society. I was just saying it out loud. I know Lin'an is better than our hometown, and you two can earn well, so you don't care about those things."

Wei Lan smiled: "How could I overthink it, Auntie? You're right. Honestly, I think the same way—we just can't earn anything back home."

"I know, I just blurted it out." Zhang Xia patted Wei Lan's hand: "Alright, we've seen the house. Let's go rest up—tomorrow we meet the in-laws."

An empty house isn't worth much to look at—it's just the nine million that makes it feel different. Once seen, it's just… that. They left right away. Wang Yan drove his parents to a hotel not far from the rental, and Wei Lan stayed with them chatting until past ten, before finally returning to the apartment.

The two tidied up. Wang Yan took the dog, Wei Lan held the cat. Both were little emperors—if they didn't get walked, they'd cause trouble at night.

Wei Lan asked: "What did you tell them back home?"

"About the property title being in your name?" Wang Yan shook his head: "Don't worry. Neither of them said a word—they've already accepted you. Why overthink it? You know what my parents are like. I even told them you married me without asking for anything. And your parents said the same—no bride price. News sites and public accounts are always full of stories about sky-high bride prices. My mom watches those all the time—she was terrified I'd never find a wife. Now? You showed up for free—she's thrilled."

Wei Lan rolled her eyes: "Not just free—you're also stuck with Bai Da."

"Bai Da? What does that mean? Are you supposed to bring a dowry? No way—no bride price, so why a dowry?"

"I'm my parents' only daughter. They've got some money. I already told them about putting your house under my name—it's about equality and mutual love in marriage. They said I shouldn't get too much advantage, so they're buying you a car. The money's already in my account—fifty thousand. I didn't even know they had that much. Don't refuse. Honestly, you're earning so much now, I feel huge pressure just being with you…"

Wang Yan wrapped his arm around her: "You're overthinking again, making trouble for yourself. Think back when we first met—I had nothing. Yet you noticed me, came up and talked to me. Then we met again—that's fate. You've watched me grow from nothing to where I am today. Honestly, it's your good eye. Amidst millions, you found this dusty pearl, knew I'd amount to something."

"That's your strength—you should be proud, not obsessed with who earns more or less. But since your father already transferred the money, I won't pretend to refuse out of false modesty. If it's offered, take it, right?"

"Of course—why refuse free money? And having a car is convenient—you can drive whenever you want. I still have a license plate quota—we can get a blue plate. I don't know cars well, but with this budget, you pick. We'll buy it right after we get our marriage certificate."

"Did I just waste my breath? You think it matters whether it's jointly owned? Are you planning to leave me?" Wang Yan cut it short: "We'll buy it in the next two days. As for which one—I'll do some research."

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone, searched: "What car to choose for fifty thousand?"

He had no real requirements for cars. Over the years, he'd driven or ridden in countless luxury models across price ranges—it was all pretty much the same.

Under the cool night breeze, walking along the road, they chatted about car preferences. Really, there wasn't much to say—cars in this price range all had decent space, interiors, power, driving experience, and ride comfort. It was just a matter of choosing among a few options.

They wandered back home, washed up, and fell asleep in each other's arms, peacefully. After all, Wang Yan's parents were here—this was their first visit, so they'd have to wake up early and take them out. Wei Lan knew she couldn't handle the stamina of a big beast like him…