Chapter 479: Epilogue: We

China.

In the year Gu Zhihang turned thirty-five, his assets had accumulated to an unimaginable level.

He was the richest man, deservedly so.

Meng Jingmo ranked second, having lost the bet from years ago.

He was generous, accepting defeat with grace, handing over the stakes with ease and precision.

“It seems putting eggs in different baskets really pays off,” he mused. “Zhihang, you’ve edged me out—but I won’t admit defeat. Someday… someday I’ll surpass you.”

Gu Zhihang lounged casually, utterly at ease. “Be my guest. I’ll play along. What’s the bet this time?”

“Let me suggest something,” Lin Zhao interjected.

“What?” Gu Zhihang turned to her.

“Whoever loses donates a hundred Hope Middle Schools across the country. How’s that?” Lin Zhao asked.

“I have no objection,” Gu Zhihang said. Every year he gave to charity, donating sums most people couldn’t earn in a lifetime.

Meng Jingmo, raised by the Lin family, did the same.

He nodded along. “Fine with me. I agree. Little Aunt’s idea is excellent.”

“Glad you’re satisfied,” Lin Zhao said with a smile.

These years, she’d grown increasingly lazy, preferring to stay home watching TV, one drama after another, until her vision blurred. Fortunately, she still had a few bottles of miraculous eye drops in her storage ring—after use, her sight returned to perfect clarity, no glasses needed.

“Mom, want to go to the new amusement park? It’s got all sorts of fun things. Let’s go together,” Gu Zhihang suddenly suggested, remembering his father’s instructions.

“No,” Lin Zhao didn’t want to move. “I’m still watching my drama. Let’s talk after I finish.”

Gu Zhihang pressed on. “Mom, after this one there’s always another. When will it ever end? Just go out for a bit—we’ll be back before you miss a scene.”

Meng Jingmo, also under his father’s orders, added, “Yeah, come see. I haven’t been to any of the new ones yet.”

“Are you two plotting something? You’re acting weird,” Lin Zhao narrowed her eyes, suspicion written all over her face.

“You’re being overly sensitive,” Gu Zhihang knew her resistance was weakening. He casually took down the bag from the hanger, waiting for her to get ready to leave.

Nothing serious—just wanted their mother to get out and move around.

“We don’t have any bad intentions. We just want you to get some fresh air.”

Lin Zhao’s eyes felt slightly dry—she did need a break. She stood up. “Alright, let’s go. It’s been a while since I’ve been out.”

The group arrived at the massive shopping mall, heavily promoted by every media outlet.

It offered shopping, dining, and plenty of attractions—thrilling rides for the adventurous, gentle ones for children.

Lin Zhao disliked thrill rides and didn’t join in, instead watching the younger generation play.

Gu Zhihang and Meng Jingmo were grown men—outsiders recognized them as “Director Gu” and “Director Meng.” Two men with model physiques standing in line were impossible to miss.

In just a few minutes, Lin Zhao saw three girls approach them, asking for their contact information.

Too bad those two wooden heads were utterly unapproachable.

In two more years they’ll be uncles—better marry their companies!

She shook her head helplessly and returned to battling the claw machine beside her.

This thing was oddly fun—she was determined to win that little white bear.

Another failure. Lin Zhao wasn’t discouraged; she inserted more coins and kept playing.

No wonder the young loved it—it was genuinely enjoyable.

After the children finished playing, Lin Zhao, with the help of a passing young man, finally caught the doll she wanted.

The stranger was odd—wearing a black baseball cap, tall and straight, still wearing a mask indoors, his exposed skin pale and clean, his eyes strangely familiar.

“Mom, I just saw you talking to someone—who was that?” Gu Zhihang walked over.

“I don’t know him. A kind young man—he helped me catch the doll,” Lin Zhao explained, glancing toward where he’d left—but he was gone.

He felt so familiar.

Who was he?

“Oh.” Relieved it wasn’t someone with ill intent, Gu Zhihang relaxed. To keep her from boredom, he said, “Mom, let’s play video games. I want to play.”

“Fine. Today’s your call—I’m game. This is what they call sacrificing myself for gentlemen,” Lin Zhao said, stuffing the doll she’d immediately chosen into her backpack, feigning indifference.

After they left, a figure appeared in the corner—clearly the same young man who’d helped Lin Zhao.

He watched from afar, not approaching. When they departed, he silently followed.

The group reached the gaming zone.

Each took a controller and began playing.

The games here were newly imported, varied, and perfect for killing time.

“This game’s pretty fun. We should get one for home,” Lin Zhao remarked.

“I’ll arrange it,” Gu Zhihang replied.

“A game room would be useful when kids come over—gives them something to do, so they don’t go trampling my carefully tended flowers and plants.” As she aged, Lin Zhao had taken up gardening, filling her home with flowers.

Many were rare, expensive varieties.

She still had cultivation fluid—anything she planted thrived. Two years ago, someone offered fifty million for one pot—she refused.

Growing flowers was her passion. Watching them bloom brought a sense of accomplishment words couldn’t describe. Not even a hundred million would make her sell—she had more money than she knew what to do with.

“The downside? They won’t want to leave,” Gu Zhihang said bluntly.

“True, but it doesn’t matter. How can a monkey escape the Buddha’s five fingers? With their parents around, I don’t need to worry so much,” Lin Zhao said casually.

At that moment, the little red hood in the game died.

She quickly revived her character and kept playing.

After an hour of gaming, Lin Zhao felt stiff all over and finally stood up.

She checked the time—it was late.

“Time to go,” she said. “Time flew by today—I didn’t even notice. Just like that, it’s gone.”

Gu Zhihang took her coat from her side and smiled. “Time flies when you’re out. Mom, if you like it, I’ll take you out more often.”

“You’re a busy man. Just coming back to see me now and then is enough,” Lin Zhao said, walking out with her son.

Just this little outing had lifted her spirits.

People really should get out more.

Gu Zhihang sensed something—he paused slightly. “Mom, you two go ahead. I’ll use the restroom.”

Lin Zhao waved dismissively and walked out with Meng Jingmo.

Gu Zhihang stopped before one man.

“Why are you following us?” He studied the man, a strange unease rising—he felt he should know this person.

But the face—definitely unfamiliar.

Something was off.

And stranger still—

He should have been wary, yet his instincts told him this man wouldn’t harm them.

“You’ve got a bad memory,” the man replied without answering. “We lived side by side. I knew every thought in your mind. How long has it been? You’ve forgotten everything.”

A flash of realization struck Gu Zhihang.

It was the bastard who’d possessed his body.

He grabbed the man’s arm, tightened his grip, and dragged him into an empty corner.

“What the hell is this? Did you possess an innocent body?!” Gu Zhihang’s face darkened.

So fierce.

Gu Guaibao’s face remained expressionless. “I’m a cultivator now. I wouldn’t take over a body—it would taint me with karmic debt.”

He came to resolve his attachments, not to accumulate more.

“Cultivator? Looks like you’ve done well. If you’ve done so well, why come back?!” Gu Zhihang demanded.

“Why so sensitive? It’s not about you,” Gu Guaibao said calmly.

“I don’t care,” Gu Zhihang thought this whole scene was absurd. This man had fought for his body—he was another version of himself—and yet they could speak so calmly.

It was ridiculous.

“Go back,” the Gu Zhihang of Jiuzhou Continent said. “Don’t bother with me. Pretend you never saw me.”

He was merely a fragment of divine consciousness. He’d been here some time, traveled many places, seen his family living well, enjoying the warmth of mortal life. The prison of the old “Gu Ercai” had finally broken—his dark eyes held a trace of release.

Gu Zhihang looked at him deeply, then smiled faintly and turned away.

In his heart, he and “Gu Ercai” had never been the same person. That the other had escaped his fate, walked his own path—Gu Zhihang was genuinely glad.

He hoped the other would forget the past, look forward, and walk forward with his head high.

“What took you so long? I thought you’d fallen into the toilet,” Lin Zhao handed her son a coffee.

Gu Zhihang took it, took a sip, and replied good-naturedly, “Ran into something on the way. Delayed me a bit.”

“What happened? Did you fix it?” Lin Zhao asked, concerned.

“Nothing important,” Gu Zhihang said.

“Hmm. Let’s go,” Lin Zhao urged.

The group got in the car and drove away.

The man in the baseball cap appeared again, his deep black eyes fixed on the car. He stood for a long time, then vanished from the spot.

His mother knew this son was vile, undeserving of mercy—yet she’d given him a precious talisman, preserving a sliver of his consciousness so he could be reborn.

He, too, owed her a debt.

That little bear—he’d slipped something into it—

A hundred years from now, we’ll meet again.

Dad, Mom, Big Brother, Little Sister… I’ll wait for you.

Gu Zhihang felt a sudden loosening in his body and guessed the cultivator had left; his brows relaxed.

He picked up Gu Zhiyao and Ning Xiao’s little tyrant, hoisting them onto his shoulder.

“So high! So, so high!!” The little tyrant thrilled, tugging at Gu Zhihang’s neatly combed hair.

“Easy there, my little ancestor—those are real hairs!” Gu Zhihang cried out.

Seeing her son acting up, Gu Zhiyao slapped Ning Xiao’s arm. “You need to discipline your son.”

Ning Xiao stepped forward, his tone calm but carrying an air of finality. “Have you had enough? Didn’t I tell you never to pull someone’s hair again?”

The boy was Ning Zhan, the youngest of the Gu and Lin families, doted on by everyone, fearless of heaven or earth—except his father.

At these words, his defiant expression instantly softened. He rubbed his small hands through his uncle’s hair, apologetic. “Second Uncle, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

Gu Zhihang set him down, crouched low, and plucked a few strands of his hair.

The boy hissed in pain, tears welling in his big, round eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” came the tiny, pitiful reply.

“If it hurts you, it hurts me too. Will you pull people’s hair again?” Gu Zhihang asked.

“No, no, no no, it hurts!” the boy hurried to say.

A thousand lectures are less effective than letting him feel the pain once.

“Good boy.” Gu Zhihang, ever the master of the carrot-and-stick approach, immediately added: “Tomorrow I’ll buy you a toy.”

The boy’s eyes lit up instantly. He held no grudge, clinging affectionately to his second uncle, fetching tea, bringing fruit, eager to please.

Seeing her monstrous grandson suddenly so quiet, Lin Zhao felt deeply unsettled.

Ning Zhan was full of schemes; no one in the family could control him. Lin Zhao had often been grateful—thankfully, there weren’t many children at home, or she’d have suffered a nervous breakdown.

“Zhiyao, keep an eye on Zhan. He’s about to pull another stunt,” Lin Zhao warned the child’s mother.

The saying goes: when a child grows quiet, he’s up to no good—and nowhere was this truer than with Ning Zhan.

“...I know,” Gu Zhiyao said, as if facing an imminent threat.

She’d once planned to have another son, but after one child nearly broke her, her dream of a little daughter died completely.

Ning Zhan was a high-energy, high-emotion child who threw tantrums at the slightest frustration.

Ning Xiao complained on the surface, but he adored his son more than anything.

So did Commander Ning.

He had once missed his son’s growth; now, with a grandson, he treated Ning Zhan as if making up for lost time—granting every wish, refusing nothing.

Gu Zhiyao let her guard slip for a moment, and Ning Zhan was already playing in mud in the corner.

“Where did this water come from?” She walked over to pull her son away.

Ning Zhan’s nose was smeared with mud, his eyes bright and round. “No water. I peed.”

Gu Zhiyao: “...”

She gave up on her restless son, collapsing into Lin Zhao’s arms, wailing softly. “Mom, raising kids is so hard. You and Dad were amazing—you raised us so well.”

Gu Chenghuai spoke up: “It’s mostly your mother’s work. I wouldn’t dare take credit.”

“Don’t say that—both of you deserve it,” Lin Zhao smiled, her eyes crinkling. Though she took good care of herself, age had etched fine lines at her corners—but they did nothing to dim her beauty.

“Let him be,” Gu Chenghuai told Gu Zhiyao. “What boy doesn’t play in mud? Let him play. When he’s tired, you take him to wash up.”

Gu Zhiyao: “But he used his own urine—that’s filthy!”

She even played biting-hands games with him daily now, and felt she couldn’t bite down anymore.

“Wash it off—it’s still usable,” Lin Zhao laughed.

Gu Chenghuai nodded.

That was exactly what he meant.

“Fine,” Gu Zhiyao gave up. She turned to Ning Xiao. “You bathe your son later.”

Ning Xiao smiled. “Alright, I’ll wash him.”

At that moment, Qiao Hui answered a call. She listened, then broke into a radiant smile.

“What? Zhiyu is going to have a child?!”

At this exclamation, everyone in the living room turned to look.

Gu Zhiyu and Han Shuang had naturally grown close and had been married for years.

Lin Zhao hurried over and took the phone from Qiao Hui.

“Shuangshuang.”

Han Shuang held the test strip, smiling. “Mom, I’m pregnant. I got the results and immediately wanted to tell you, but your phone didn’t answer, so I called the landline.”

“It was too noisy—I didn’t hear it ring,” Lin Zhao explained, then asked anxiously: “How are you feeling? How many months?”

She’d thought the eldest son’s couple didn’t plan to have children—she never expected such a surprise!

“I’m fine—just over two months...” Han Shuang spoke softly.

“As long as you’re not unwell. I’ll pack some food and essentials and send them over—tell Zhiyu to check for them...” Lin Zhao rattled off a long list of reminders. Han Shuang listened without a hint of impatience.

With her daughter-in-law pregnant, Lin Zhao had no intention of personally nursing her through confinement. She’d paid generously, hired two dedicated nutritionists, and covered their salaries herself.

The Gu family’s third branch finally had an heir—everyone was overjoyed.

Especially Gu Mu.

She clasped her hands together, murmuring: “Bodhisattva, please protect us. Please protect us. Finally pregnant—Third Son won’t die out.”

Gu Fu disliked hearing this. “How’s it dying out? Doesn’t Ning Zhan carry Gu blood too?”

“It’s different,” Gu Mu mumbled. She held old-fashioned views and couldn’t change.

Third Son had three sons—surely he needed at least one grandson. A granddaughter would do too.

“I think they’re the same,” Gu Fu said. The old man had grown increasingly open-minded.

Learning his elder brother’s wife was pregnant, Gu Zhihang beamed.

“Why are you so happy?” Lin Zhao asked.

“If Big Brother has a child, Father will have an heir. Then I don’t have to marry or have kids—I’m free of pressure. How can I not be happy?” Gu Zhihang spoke his true thoughts without reservation.

Lin Zhao: “...”

“You think too much,” she said dryly.

“What can I do? Grandma nags me every day. She’s so old—I can’t just defy her.”

This child coming to Big Brother and Big Sister is perfect! Just in time!!

From Second Son’s perspective, this child truly is a lifeline—no flaw there.

“Don’t marry if you don’t want to—but don’t you dare hurt a girl!” Lin Zhao warned.

Gu Zhihang rubbed his nose. “...”