Chapter 27: When I Was Young, I Didn

“Dad, can we speak Mandarin?”

Qi Hao had spent ten years outside, finally shedding his accent, and didn’t want to be dragged back into it after just a few days home.

Speaking Tianjin dialect in public, especially while delivering lines, made people snap out of the scene.

Everyone assumed he was a crosstalk performer.

“Hey, do I have to accommodate you?”

The old man was furious—just seeing this brat made his blood pressure spike.

“Dad…” Qi Hao first released Aobai, then pulled out his phone—no, he pulled out two.

One Nokia 3210, one Nokia E90.

“These are for me? Why waste money like this?” Though he spoke in reprimand, the old man couldn’t suppress the curve of his lips.

The Nokia 3210 is for you.

The Nokia E90 is for Mom.

The rebellious streak, not yet fully faded by age, screamed at Qi Hao to provoke his father.

Qi Hao had always been rebellious.

The kind who won’t walk when pulled, but backs up when pushed.

At fifteen or sixteen, he took a green-skinned train to the capital to join the entertainment industry—partly because he’d suddenly gained a system, but mostly because he constantly argued with his father.

But now the system task required him to “sincerely” apologize to his father.

If he didn’t want the task to fail, he had to swallow his anger today.

Step back, and the sea and sky widen.

“Dad, when I was young, I didn’t understand…”

“You still don’t understand much now.”

The old man finally spoke Mandarin—he was a primary school teacher, still not retired, so his Mandarin was flawless.

At most, he occasionally slipped in a bit of accent.

"..." Qi Hao held back his anger, pretending he hadn't heard his father's sarcasm, and continued: "Back then, I lost my temper and chose rebellion to pursue my dream."

“What’s this? Why are you getting emotional all of a sudden?”

Qi’s father felt uneasy—kid, don’t act like this. I’m not used to it. I’d rather see you defiant and unruly.

Your rebellion’s like a cold—it won’t heal until the time comes.

Is today the day you’re finally cured?

Back then, Qi’s father couldn’t stop him, and under his silent approval, Qi’s mother loosened the reins.

He thought “dream come true” was just two words—wake up.

He figured Qi Hao would try it out and quit.

He never expected this damn brat actually carved out a place for himself in the entertainment industry.

What could he do?

Of course, forgive him.

Qi’s father and mother were both teachers, devoting their lives to educating others, yet they’d been defeated by their own son.

They weren’t old-fashioned; they’d long since accepted what they couldn’t change.

Wasn’t the point of going to college or anything else just to make their son successful?

The family downstairs had a son about Qi Hao’s age.

He’d smoothly gotten into university and landed a decent job.

But he couldn’t adapt to society, quit after two years, and now lies at home leeching off his parents.

Spends all day dreaming of writing web novels and becoming a god.

Compared to him, his own son was far more accomplished.

“I just… wanted to talk sincerely…” Qi Hao placed the Nokia 3210 in his father’s hands and went on, emotional: “Only after growing up did I realize how hard you’ve worked.”

“Heh~” The old man smirked, unwrapping the phone: “This phone…”

“Ahem, I’ve wanted to buy you a gift to apologize for a long time, but I was too proud back then, so I bought the phone but never gave it to you—now I’ve finally gathered the courage.” Qi Hao hurried to explain.

The old man examined the phone and its manual, then sighed: “This is a phone from the year 2000.”

This kid…

Had he wanted to reconcile with me all these years ago?

“Yes, I kept it all along, took it out every now and then to look at it.”

Seeing his father didn’t immediately explode, Qi Hao finally exhaled.

With his father’s bad temper and decent knowledge of digital tech, this was the only way to fool him.

“You don’t have to be so serious…”

Qi’s father rubbed the brand-new Nokia 3210, his anger long vanished.

As they talked, the door opened.

In came Qi Hao’s mother and his cousin.

“Mom, Shanshan, I’m back—I bought you gifts.” Qi Hao quickly pulled out… two more phones.

One Nokia N95, one iPhone.

Qi Hao was always generous with family—every return trip meant endless shopping.

Clothes, appliances, all kinds of household goods.

If his father weren’t so stubborn, he’d have bought them a house too.

“Bro, why are you buying phones again? My phone’s only a year old.”

Qi Hao’s cousin, Hu Shan, was currently attending university just a short distance from home—less than three kilometers.

Tianjin might not have much else, but it had plenty of universities.

“Electronics update fast—after a year, it’s time to replace them. I bought one for each of you. Oh, I bought two for Dad…”

Qi Hao had already confirmed with the system.

The system recognized that he had “bought new phones” and “sincerely apologized”—meaning the task conditions were met.

Now that the task was complete, Qi Hao started acting up again.

“Hmph!”

He’d thought the gift was just for him, but now everyone had one—this heavy filial devotion suddenly lost its luster.

Still, Qi’s father carefully put away the Nokia 3210.

It might not work well anymore, but as a decorative piece, it was fine.

“Wow, bro, you brought Aobai too! Bye-bye~” Hu Shan had met Aobai before and loved petting the snooty plushie.

“Right, be careful when opening the door—don’t let it run out.”

“When are you leaving this time?” Qi’s mother tied on her apron and hurried to cook—her son often skipped breakfast and must be starving by now.

“A drama starts filming in mid-February, but a few extra days won’t matter.”

In the drama “Chinese Paladin 3,” Qi Hao had the highest status and the best treatment—all clearly stated in the contract.

Old Tian had been in the industry this long—he knew the ropes.

“Work requires a work ethic. What do you mean ‘a few extra days won’t matter’? Look at your movie ‘Waiting Alone’—you acted so over-the-top… You think I care what you do? I went to see it anyway…”

Qi’s father’s voice dropped from loud to low—watching his son’s movie embarrassed him.

He usually sneaked in to watch.

“Uncle, your stubborn mouth is harder to shut than an AK!”

Hu Shan didn’t hold back.

“Don’t talk nonsense. His movie only made two million at the box office—made the producer lose big. If he doesn’t act better, he’ll be out of work soon.”

No matter how well Qi Hao did, his father saw nothing but life crises.

He felt he had to keep a watchful eye.

“Dad, don’t worry—I’m my own boss now.”

Qi Hao had never consulted his family about starting his studio—he kept his family and work strictly separate.

Besides, outsiders shouldn’t meddle in professional matters.

Many studios declined because they stuffed too many unqualified relatives and friends inside.

“You’re your own boss? Can’t you just settle down for a few years? How old are you, becoming your own boss…”

The old man immediately panicked.

Qi’s mother sighed and called Hu Shan to help with cooking.

They were used to it.

If these two didn’t argue during a visit, they probably couldn’t even eat.

The house had two rooms—Qi Hao couldn’t sleep with his cousin, so the father and son sat soaking their feet, still bickering.

“You’re not young anymore—shouldn’t you find someone?”

“I’ve got dozens of girlfriends—line up from our front door all the way to the Haihe River to watch old men dive.”

“You damn brat, can’t you speak seriously for once?”

“Fine, fine—I’ll pay attention, find someone suitable, and bring her home for you to see.”

“You’re actors—don’t pretend to be a couple.”

“Dad, you’ve watched too many movies.”

"It's just that your movie is too melodramatic..."

"Dad, if I actually found someone, would you let them come over to this dump?"

"Hey, what’s that? You’re snobbish about money?"

"How’s that snobbery? Look at the hallway—pitch black, people cooking right along the walkway, and I spend forever just trying to find a parking spot."

Qi Hao seized the chance to complain about the family’s living conditions.

He thought about convincing his parents to move to a modern housing complex, even to the capital.

I can’t keep living here—I’m a shareholder of Penguin.