Chapter 1: Chapter One: What? My Real Mother Is a White Fox?

Chen Yan sat in the waiting hall of Jin Ling’s high-speed rail station, hugging a backpack, staring blankly at the advertisement board above.

Around him, people came and went in a rush; no one noticed the young man sitting lost in thought.

Actually, that morning Chen Yan had just quit his job—well, not exactly. More accurately, he hadn’t made it through the internship and had walked out with his bag.

This year’s autumn recruitment season was especially brutal, so although the job involved more work than an ox or horse and pay less than chicken feed, Chen Yan, freshly graduated, had reluctantly accepted it months ago.

The three-month internship paid half salary.

Unexpectedly, after enduring three months of beast-like life—fetching packages and takeout for department bosses, acting as a personal bag-carrier, routinely working late, and occasionally being forced to play the role of “intern scapegoat” when things went wrong—he discovered this boss wasn’t even human.

Well, in today’s workplace, it seemed few bosses counted as human anyway.

The thing was, this morning Chen Yan had gone downstairs to buy coffee for his boss—this old woman often sent others out to save a few yuan on delivery fees.

Before returning to the office, Chen Yan received a call from his hometown village saying his grandmother was ill and, if possible, he should return to see her.

When Chen Yan asked for leave, the old woman sipped the iced Americano he’d bought for her and impatiently said, “Oh? Why didn’t she get sick earlier or later, but only now, during the busiest time at month-end?”

Those words triggered Chen Yan’s breaking point—he’d endured three months of being treated like livestock and forced to smile for three months.

He snatched the coffee he’d personally bought for the old woman and dumped it straight onto her head!

Then Chen Yan turned and walked out of the office back to his desk.

The old woman chased after him, screaming at him in front of over a dozen colleagues.

In full view of everyone, Chen Yan suddenly turned, wearing the shy, gentle smile of a young man, calm and polite, replying with two sentences.

“Amanda, I really don’t like women more than ten years older than me, so even if you offered me a promotion, I truly couldn’t accept you—I’m really sorry~~”

Upon hearing this, over a dozen colleagues in the department immediately lit up, instantly turning into eager spectators.

They stared at the good-looking young intern, then at Amanda, the thirty-eight-year-old middle-aged woman—eyes and mouths wide open, silently screaming: Holy shit!

Hey hey hey! Didn’t I hear Amanda’s husband is the deputy general manager of the branch?

Holy shit, this woman’s got guts!

Several of the company’s gossip elites immediately plotted who they’d share this juicy tidbit with.

The old woman, furious and flailing, shouted: “You’re lying and slandering—”

But Chen Yan had already bowed with a smile, grabbed his bag, and bolted out the door, calling a ride-hailing car straight to the high-speed rail station.

…

This wasn’t some Gen-Z workplace rebellion—it was just a young man pushed too far and done pretending.

Now sitting in the waiting hall, Chen Yan didn’t care a bit about his company’s bullshit, let alone that so-called “middle-aged fairy” Amanda.

No… should I follow my old grandma’s advice and return home to inherit her legacy?

Chen Yan’s grandmother, whom he called “my old grandma,” had raised him for twenty years, since he was two.

More precisely, Chen Yan had been picked up by her.

How, where—she’d never clearly explained it over the years.

Well, actually, there were too many versions, and she kept changing her story.

When he was six, she said she’d found him in a trash bin outside the county hospital’s maternity ward.

When he was eight, she said she’d found him under a big tree behind a ruined temple on the mountain.

When he was eleven, she changed it again: one snowy night, a beautiful young woman, desperate and with nowhere to turn, had come to her door, begged her to take the baby in her arms, dropped off the child and two hundred yuan, then left.

When he was fifteen, she said Chen Yan was actually rescued by her from a human trafficker.

At eighteen…

Okay, the version she told at eighteen was the strangest:

She said one snowy night, a beautiful young woman, desperate and with nowhere to turn, had come to her door, holding the baby in her arms…

Wait—wasn’t that the same version she told when he was eleven?

Hold on—she added one final line.

“Then, that woman suddenly transformed into a pure white fox, leaped three times, and vanished into the snowdrifts, heading up the mountain.”

Tell me—isn’t that insane?!

When Chen Yan heard this at eighteen, he’d been so furious he’d gotten a stomachache!

Turned into a white fox?

Why not say my mom turned into Ultraman?!

`

Such an extraordinary old grandma naturally had an equally extraordinary, impressive, and cool profession.

She was the most powerful…

Witch.

Yes, literally.

Witch.

She’d read feng shui, bless graves.

Or wield a peach-wood sword, burn talismans, and exorcise evil.

When someone had a funeral, she’d show up to wail.

You know—the kind who rushes to the altar, facing the entire room of grieving children and grandchildren…

Let out a loud “Aowu!” right there on the spot!

So heart-wrenching, tears streaming!

Not crass.

One cry, eighty yuan!

In her words, this was called “art”—no.

This was called: “More money never weighs you down!”

…

Chen Yan didn’t know how she conned people, but since he could remember, the villagers all said of her: “That old lady? She’s a real character!”

…

A few months ago, after Chen Yan graduated college and couldn’t find a job, his grandmother called, urging him to return home.

She meant for him to inherit her legacy.

Since he couldn’t find a decent job in the city, why not return to the countryside and become a promising…

Shaman!

Honestly… Chen Yan had seriously considered it.

No joke.

Jobs are so hard to find now—apparently, a job paying four thousand a month draws a frenzy of 985 graduates.

Chen Yan knew his limits.

Aside from having a face he believed rivaled young Gorden Lam and peak Wu Yanzu (in his own opinion).

A non-key undergraduate had little competitive edge.

Chen Yan’s personality was easygoing—he always took things in stride.

At most, he had a tiny streak of mischief.

For example, when watching a mealtime drama and seeing a character die…

He’d always rewind the progress bar to check if the actor playing the dead person had secretly blinked or breathed.

In daily life, he followed the principle of being kind to others—unless you stepped on his Achilles’ heel and pushed him too far.

His grandmother was his Achilles’ heel—never to be stepped on.

At twenty-two, Chen Yan had only ever fought once: as a child, some neighborhood kids were playing at the village entrance; one of them, mouthy, called his grandmother “an old female ghost” because she wore colorful robes and had messy hair during rituals.

Chen Yan flew into a rage—normally cheerful, he punched two boys taller than him by half a head until they screamed for their mothers, and kicked one into the river.

So, when his grandmother wanted him to return as a shaman, Chen Yan didn’t resist.

But… it seemed there was a condition.

Word was, once he returned, the village matchmaker would come knocking to arrange a marriage.

In the countryside, people married young—many men Chen Yan’s age were already fathers, so being dragged to blind dates was normal.

He’d actually met two during the previous summer vacation.

The one with the highest appearance was accompanied by her father.

The girl’s father looked dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, muscular—truly a man who could ride a horse on his arms!

Then he looked at the girl…

Whoa~~! (in Guo Boss’s tone)

She looked exactly like her father!

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And this girl, a junior college graduate working as an uncontracted teacher at a local elementary school, thought she’d already ascended to immortality.

Demanded a dowry of 188,000 yuan, plus her future salary handed over and her name added to the city apartment.

At that moment, Chen Yan wanted to leave.

The matchmaker kept insisting: “Oh, being a teacher is great! Two holidays a year, and once you have kids, you can educate them yourself!”

Kids?

No thanks!

Looking at her face, Chen Yan had zero interest in engaging in the “baby-making process” with her.

This marriage? Even a dog won’t take it!

In the end, Old Grandma dragged Chen Yan home and pointed straight at the matchmaker’s nose, giving her a scolding!

…

Two and a half hours by high-speed train, then an hour-long long-distance bus, and finally a three-li walk.

When he finally reached the familiar village entrance…

Walking down the familiar village path, he saw the rural houses on either side, chickens and local dogs running freely as if no one else existed.

Chen Yan suddenly felt a pang of homesickness.

Ah… that eccentric old woman who always pretended to be mystical…

How is she now?

Can she no longer sit cross-legged and tell him stories of Zhong Kui catching ghosts?

Can she no longer call out souls with her booming voice or perform shamanic dances?

What scene will he see?

An old woman lying in bed, barely breathing, face pale with illness, worn and aged?

As he stepped into his own courtyard, Chen Yan slowed his steps.

His eyes grew warm.

In an instant, all of Old Grandma’s kindness flooded his heart.

The stir-fried soybeans with pork she made, the fan she used to shoo away mosquitoes in summer… and how she’d smile as she watched him bite into the sweetest center piece of the watermelon…

His hand was already on the door panel of his house, and his ears buzzed faintly—probably an illusion.

Taking a deep breath, tears nearly spilling, Chen Yan gently pushed open the door.

And then…

He froze.

…

In the main hall, on the wall facing the door, still stuck up was a New Year’s painting bought last Spring Festival and never taken down.

On it, a chubby boy and girl held golden ingots on either side, with the benevolent smiling portrait of the founding emperor of this dynasty in the center…

Don’t laugh—many rural New Year’s paintings are like this.

By the door sat a tattered straw hat, and to the left, half a sack of corn.

And in the middle…

A square table, red tablecloth. Four elderly people were deep in battle!

At the head seat sat an old woman, face glowing with health, her silver hair tied into a large bun at the back, feet clad in thick-soled cloth shoes, one hand holding a tobacco pipe, the other gripping an object, her fingers rubbing it back and forth.

Her eyes half-lidded, as if absorbing the spirit of heaven and earth, the essence of sun and moon.

Then, the object in her right hand landed squarely in the center of the table.

“Eight of Man!”

She pushed her tiles forward.

“Self-draw! I’ve won! I’ve won!! Pay up! Don’t you dare run! Finally got a big one!”

Old Grandma grinned, showing nothing but teeth.

Thud.

Chen Yan’s bag dropped to the floor.

Seriously ill?

Chen Yan’s first thought: Did they trick me?!

“Old Grandma, stop your magic already!”

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【New book’s first chapter is out!

Please support, new and old readers alike!

Thank you, dear readers, for always indulging me.

I’m not young anymore—just a couple more stories left to tell you.

I won’t be troubling you much longer.

Please bookmark and recommend!】

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