Chapter 245

At noon.

At lunchtime, Uncle Chen Hailin cooked, and Li Guohong came over to Ying Zhicheng's place to invite their family over for a meal together.

Ying Zhicheng's household consisted only of his father and Ying Chanxi, because Ying's grandfather had moved here from elsewhere long ago and had no relatives nearby, so even during the New Year, their home never felt lively.

Back when they were young, Ying's grandfather and Li Luo's grandfather had been close friends, just like Ying Zhicheng and Li Guohong are now.

So during the New Year, the Li family would simply invite the three members of the Ying family to join them for the holiday.

With the arrival of Ying Zhicheng and his family, the Li family's living room instantly became much livelier.

Grandparents, Uncle Chen Hailin, Aunt Li Xuexian, cousin Chen Yongqi.

Li Luo's family of three.

Adding the three from Ying Zhicheng's side, they could fill a table of eleven people at lunch.

"Smells amazing." Li Luo walked into the kitchen drawn by the aroma and saw Chen Hailin gripping a large iron wok, flipping ingredients with practiced ease, the rich wok hei filling the air.

He glanced at the freshly stir-fried spicy pork kidneys, stealthily grabbed a piece with his chopsticks, and slipped it into his mouth, hissing softly as he ate.

"You little rascal," Chen Hailin couldn't free a hand, so he laughed and scolded, "Still eating? Go carry the dishes out."

"Got it." Li Luo grinned, picking up the recently cooked dishes and carrying them out.

His uncle Chen Hailin was a straightforward man, from the neighboring Chen Village; years ago, when his family fell into poverty and they couldn't afford to bury his father, he became a son-in-law to the Li family, and Li Luo's grandfather paid for the old man's funeral.

Since then, Chen Hailin had lived with his wife in the countryside, taking care of the two elderly daily, and at Li Guohong's request, also occasionally looked after Ying's grandfather next door.

Besides caring for the elders, Chen Hailin's main job was traveling with a rural catering crew to cook for people in nearby villages and towns.

Whenever a household needed a banquet—whether for a wedding or a funeral—Chen Hailin's crew could handle everything.

Years of wielding the wok had honed his exceptional culinary skills.

After Li Luo graduated from junior college, he got a job at a restaurant thanks to Chen Hailin's connections.

Later, when he fell on hard times and chose to sell stir-fried rice noodles on the street, it was Chen Hailin who gave him that advice.

If not for Chen Hailin's repeated urging, Li Luo might never have had the courage to sell noodles on the street back then.

If you pushed the timeline back ten or twenty years, Li Luo might have joined Chen Hailin's catering crew and traveled between villages to cook banquets.

But as urbanization advanced further, more hotels and restaurants sprang up around the villages; as people grew wealthier, every household owned a car, and the younger generation disliked rural banquets, finding them dirty and chaotic.

So the catering crews declined, shifting mostly to setting up banquets inside restaurants.

Chen Hailin, after his crew disbanded, found work at a nearby restaurant—he earned less than before, but the job was stable and he no longer had to travel constantly, so in a way, he'd quietly benefited from urbanization.

"Oh, let me, let me—Li Luo, go sit and watch TV." Aunt Li Xuexian rushed over as Li Luo carried out the dishes. "Chen Hailin, what's wrong with you? Making Li Luo help?"

"I've got nothing else to do, Auntie, you sit down." Li Luo smiled and placed the dishes on the round dining table.

Li Xuexian naturally didn't sit idle either; she helped carry out the remaining dishes until the round table was piled high with over a dozen plates. When mealtime came, she called everyone to sit down.

"Where's your husband?" Li Guohong asked Li Xuexian after sitting down. "Come eat with us."

"He said two more dishes aren't ready yet, told us to start without him," Li Xuexian urged everyone to sit, smiling. "Otherwise the first dishes will get cold and lose their flavor."

"Come on, Yongqi, sit next to your brother. Chanxi, sit beside Li Luo? Kids should sit together."

"Oh my, Zhicheng, your Chanxi is getting more and more beautiful—her skin's so fresh and radiant, she must be popular at school."

"Thank you, Auntie," Ying Chanxi smiled shyly, murmured her thanks, then quietly sat beside Li Luo.

Because Ying Zhicheng and Li Guohong were like brothers, Ying Chanxi had long grown accustomed to addressing Li Luo's elders the same way Li Luo did.

"I remember Chanxi always had excellent grades—used to be top of her grade, right?" Li Xuexian handed out bowls and chopsticks, then sat down. With her older brother Li Guoru absent and her husband cooking, she, as the family's second daughter, took charge of the dinner table conversation.

Ying Zhicheng smiled, raised his bowl for Li Guohong to pour him wine, and replied: "Chanxi's still top of her grade at Fuyi High School—right?"

Ying Chanxi nodded modestly.

Li Xuexian praised: "If Chanxi were my daughter, I'd be over the moon. Our Yongqi never did well in school—if he had even one-tenth of Chanxi's ability, I'd be ecstatic."

Chen Yongqi glanced at his mother, said nothing, picked up his chopsticks, and silently ate.

Lin Xiuhong smiled and said: "I heard from Li Dao that Yongqi's been working with him lately? Everyone says he's diligent. School grades from back then don't define everything."

Hearing this, Li Luo shook his head and chuckled inwardly, thinking: Mom, you never said this about me at home.

At these words, Li Xuexian turned her gaze to Li Luo and sighed: "Xiuhong, you're right—your Li Luo has done well too. He aced his high school entrance exam and got into Fuyi High School—he's clearly a future undergraduate candidate."

"By the way, Li Luo, how did you do on your final exams?"

"Study more from Chanxi, work hard—you could even get into a first-tier university. Better than your brother's junior college."

"Auntie," Ying Chanxi couldn't help but interject at the mention of Li Luo's name, her voice rising slightly, her eyes gleaming with quiet pride: "Li Luo's grades are excellent now—he ranked 17th in the whole school and first in his class—not much worse than me."

The way she boasted, you'd think she was talking about her own grades.

Just moments ago, when Li Xuexian praised her for being top of her grade, she only murmured thanks—but now, when Li Luo's grades were mentioned, she was enthusiastically defending him.

Li Xuexian froze, then stared at Li Luo in surprise: "Not bad, Li Luo—you've been working hard?"

"Chanxi taught me well," Li Luo sipped the drink Ying Chanxi had poured him, humbly saying, "She always tutors me—otherwise I wouldn't have improved so fast."

"Exactly, thanks to Chanxi," Lin Xiuhong added. "Don't just say it with your mouth—show it. Give her a chicken leg."

"I'm just starting to show it," Li Luo said, picking up his chopsticks and placing a chicken leg on Ying Chanxi's plate.

Ying Chanxi's eyes lit up with joy; she lifted her bowl to receive it, then bowed her head, happily eating.

At the table, conversation flowed from the children's studies to their future plans, then to Li Guohong and Lin Xiuhong's breakfast stall, and Chen Hailin's recent banquets.

Li Xuexian also shared plenty of village gossip—this family was in debt and borrowing everywhere, that family had married off their daughter who'd caught the eye of a wealthy household and become a phoenix perched on a high branch, even bought a house in the city—she chatted animatedly with Lin Xiuhong.

Li Guohong and Ying Zhicheng kept the elders company with small sips of wine, chatting casually; Grandma kept watch over Grandpa's wine cup, stopping him when he'd had enough.

The three kids at Li Luo's end quietly ate, only responding when the adults brought up topics concerning them.

"Bro, you're working with Brother Li Dao—is it about setting up a factory?" Li Luo glanced around; seeing the adults deeply engrossed in conversation, he turned to Chen Yongqi.

Chen Yongqi grunted in affirmation and kept eating.

"What kind of factory is it?" Li Luo had never known about this in his past life—he'd never heard anyone mention it, so he had no idea what Li Dao was doing.

And since Li Dao hadn't taken over Uncle Li Guoru's business but preferred tinkering with things himself, what he did might change entirely in a few years.

Li Luo only knew that after graduating from university, Li Dao had done live-streamed product sales, handled logistics, coordinated with various suppliers, and provided behind-the-scenes consulting for all kinds of streamers.

As for what Li Dao was doing in 2015, Li Luo genuinely didn't know.

"It's just a factory that makes custom packaging materials," Chen Yongqi said. "Aren't takeout services really popular right now?"

"Before, Brother Dao would order takeout, and every time it arrived, it was cold—he thought, maybe the takeout box could be improved to keep food warmer."

"Later, after discussing it with someone, they found there were indeed materials that could achieve that effect, so they got a few partners together and set up a factory."

"But recently, the government ordered the factory to relocate north, so we haven't had time to expand operations yet—we'll have to wait until after the New Year to see results."

After hearing this, Li Luo was slightly surprised—he hadn't expected his cousin to have such a sharp business sense.

Most people could only see the booming takeout industry and wonder if they could get a share of the profits, but he could spot the marginal byproducts beside the market and recognize their immeasurable value.

This takeout box business isn't small, but it's not huge either—it has high demand but low profit margins, so it must follow the path of thin margins and high volume.

In this current phase of fierce competition in the takeout industry, making money is definitely possible.

Li Xuexian clearly heard what her son said, and she turned to Lin Xiuhong beside her: "Qiqi is working with Li Dao at that factory now—he's paid over ten thousand a month, managing a workshop. It's far more reliable than his old job paying a few thousand."

"That's really good," Lin Xiuhong said, slightly surprised, and added some praise to follow the topic.

This job sounded easy—mainly just managing the workers in the workshop—unlike Lin Xiuhong and Li Guohong's breakfast shop, where they had to get up early and stay late, doing everything themselves.

In the past, Lin Xiuhong would have been envious, thinking if only her own son could someday have such a high-paying job.

But now… Lin Xiuhong just smiled and offered a few polite compliments.

She didn't plan to boast about her son earning royalties from writing online novels, but at least she felt at ease—just imagining it made her happy.

People are defined by comparison.

When she learned her son earned 370,000 yuan a month in royalties, Lin Xiuhong was mostly stunned.

But now, facing direct comparison with other people's children and seeing such a clear advantage, that initial shock slowly fermented into quiet delight—her sense of superiority surged instantly.

Still, Lin Xiuhong wasn't someone who lacked restraint—boasting about Li Luo's academic performance at home was enough; she wouldn't mention his novel-writing.

After all, 370,000 yuan sounded a bit exaggerated—it was better to stay quiet and grow rich quietly.

…

After dinner, Lin Xiuhong and Li Xuexian took care of washing the dishes.

The few adult men agreed to go fishing by the nearby pond.

The elderly, after lunch, felt drowsy and went downstairs to take a nap.

Chen Yongqi went straight back to his room to play games after eating; Li Luo stood up and headed to the third floor, planning to tidy up his bedroom first.

Ying Chanxi, seeing this, didn't return to her own home—she scampered after Li Luo up the stairs.

Li Luo's grandfather's house had four floors total; since his grandparents had trouble walking, they lived on the first floor to avoid climbing stairs.

The second floor was one large living room and kitchen, spacious enough to fit over four round tables.

During holidays, the whole family gathered here for meals.

The third floor was reserved for Li Luo's family.

There were three bedrooms total: the master bedroom was for Li Guohong and his wife.

Li Luo stayed in the adjacent secondary bedroom; the sheets, blankets, and bedding had all been prepared by his grandmother before he returned, so he didn't need to do anything himself.

He tossed his backpack on the desk, took out his laptop, sat on the chair, and stretched his body.

"Are you going to write during the New Year?" Ying Chanxi said, watching him. "Didn't you say you had a lot of saved drafts?"

"Mainly because I don't know what else to do," Li Luo said. "Writing has become a habit—I get itchy if I don't write something every day."

"You're really dedicated," Ying Chanxi said unceremoniously, kicked off her shoes, and climbed onto Li Luo's bed, her white-socked feet stepping on his quilt as she settled into a comfortable half-recline.

"Even if I write fast, you readers finish it faster," Li Luo glanced unconsciously at her feet encased in white socks, recalling how pink and delicate they'd looked when he'd once soaked them for her.

Honestly, whether her hands or feet, Ying Chanxi's were much smaller than Yan Zhusheng's or Xu Youyu's.

When she fully spread her fingers, her fingertips barely reached Li Luo's first knuckle.

Her feet were also tiny—she wore size 35 shoes, nearly as long as Li Luo's palm.

So small, so adorable.

Ying Chanxi noticed his gaze and instinctively pulled her feet back, then suddenly remembered something and grew wary: "By the way, don't you have some weird fetish?"

"What do you mean?" Li Luo pulled his gaze away, puzzled.

"I read your book—why, whenever my character appears, do you always describe my feet?" Ying Chanxi demanded. "Can't you write about something else?"

"Cough, cough…" Li Luo burst into coughing. "It's just a writing technique—focusing on one distinctive trait and repeatedly emphasizing it creates a clear impression in readers' minds."

"After reading for a while, whenever readers hear 'Shen Dongdong,' they immediately think of her cute little feet."

"Or when they see beautiful pictures or videos of feet, they unconsciously associate them with the character Shen Dongdong."

"Once that effect is achieved, it means the character's branding has been successfully established."

"Is that really how it works?" Ying Chanxi frowned skeptically, unable to find a counterargument.

But Li Luo had just made up that whole explanation—though it sounded reasonable, the truth was that Ying Chanxi's other traits were simply too vague.

She hadn't carefully read the plot descriptions of Mo Qinghan or Jiang Mingyue, or else she'd have noticed something.

When Li Luo wrote about Shen Dongdong, he described her feet; when he wrote about Mo Qinghan, he detailed her mesmerizingly long legs.

And when it came to Jiang Mingyue, her magnificent chest naturally couldn't be avoided.

But Li Luo's descriptions were always relatively subtle, unlike the crude, direct style of other popular novels today.

After all, he knew that in 2017, a sweeping online cleanup campaign swept across the entire internet.

To avoid following the old paths of his predecessors from his past life, Li Luo was extremely careful—he wrote according to the censorship standards of ten years later.

The sensual elements were indeed bland, but they carried a fresh, minimalist style that stood out among the overly flashy works, earning him a loyal readership.

"But speaking of your book," Ying Chanxi suddenly narrowed her eyes, staring at Li Luo with a dangerous look. "Why does the protagonist like three girls at once? Can't he just like one?"

Asked this question, Li Luo immediately felt guilty and glanced out the window, making an excuse: "You don't understand—male-oriented online novels are like this. When the male lead is too outstanding, all kinds of girls are drawn to him."

Readers each prefer different types of female characters, so no matter which one the protagonist chooses, some readers will be dissatisfied.

So why not take them all? That way, no one is offended, and everyone is happy.

It's just an Online Novel—don't take it so seriously.

Hearing Li Luo explain this, Ying Chanxi pouted; she had originally considered advising him to stick with just one female lead.

But then she remembered how much money his current book was making and how many readers loved it—probably partly because of this.

Creation is such a personal thing; as an outsider, it wouldn't be right for me to meddle.

So the words died on her lips, and she finally whispered, "Can you write more scenes with Shen Dongdong? I love watching those."

"Cough, I'll try my best, don't worry," Li Luo assured. "After all, all three female leads are tied to the protagonist's career arcs—haven't you noticed?"

"Mo Qinghan is a singer, so Li Yang writes songs for her."

"Shen Dongdong wants to be an actress, so Li Yang writes TV dramas for her."

"Later, Jiang Mingyue wants to break into films, so Li Yang prepares a custom-made movie script for her."

"If you think about it carefully, you'll realize that calling them multiple female leads is really just using each one as a plot device to advance their respective career arcs."

"Music, TV dramas, and films—three carriages moving forward together—not only enrich the story's dimensional scope but also slow down the protagonist's rise, giving me more material to write."

Hmm… in simple terms, it's easier to stretch the plot.

When the singing arc gets tiresome and the protagonist's progress feels too fast, just switch to the TV drama arc to cool down the music storyline.

Another hit TV drama just came out—won't it take at least one or two months to air all the episodes?

So while it's still airing and maintaining its popularity, arrange for the protagonist to start filming a movie.

Once the movie's made, you need a theme song or promotional track, right? That brings you back to music again.

Three career arcs spiraling upward look far richer than a single one, and far less boring.

Especially since Li Luo assigned one female lead to each career arc as daily seasoning during their advancement—this pushed the whole model to another level.

As someone reborn with the complete tropes and experience of post-era entertainment novels, applying them to this era truly feels like a dimensional advantage.

"So when will there be a kiss scene between Dongdong and the protagonist?" Ying Chanxi blushed slightly, 不敢 look at Li Luo, and asked softly, "Mo Qinghan already stole a kiss."

"Jiang Mingyue came to the protagonist—now her director—to audition and ask how to film a kiss scene while still shooting the movie." As she said this, Ying Chanxi nearly bit her lip, "So when will Dongdong's kiss scene happen?"

"Uh…" Li Luo chuckled awkwardly at Ying Chanxi's blunt question. "I've written it, but it's still in my draft stash—it'll be published around the start of school."

Ying Chanxi: "...?"

"I've only read two hundred chapters, and your book's already past six hundred—there's still no kiss between Dongdong and the protagonist?!"

Ying Chanxi jumped off the bed in anger and kicked him.

One kick wasn't enough—she raised her other foot too.

Seeing this, Li Luo scrambled up and darted around the bedroom, dodging Ying Chanxi's outburst.

"Listen to me! Qingmei started with max affection—I had to pace it right, or how could the other two female leads compete? It's an Online Novel—why take it so seriously?"

"You're a scoundrel! You're terrible!" Ying Chanxi chased after Li Luo, hitting him. "Dare not run!"

At that moment, Lin Xiuhong shouted from downstairs: "Xixi! Li Luo! Someone's here to see you!"

Hearing his mother's voice, Li Luo felt like salvation and shouted to Ying Chanxi, "Mom's calling us—respond quickly!"

"Why don't you stop and answer?"

"She called your name first—quickly reply and ask who it is."

"Hmph!" Ying Chanxi didn't want to make Lin Yi wait longer, so she stopped chasing and went to the window, opened it, and looked down. "Lin Yi, who's here?"

"Jin Yuting and Zhao Rongjun," Lin Xiuhong called back. "They're your classmates, right? They came over to hang out."

"Oh oh!" Ying Chanxi nodded quickly. "We're coming down!"