Chapter 17: Lin Family and Yu Zhenghong

“I never thought my Ghost Fire scooter would turn into a yellow-hair before I even got it.”

An Sheng, perched on Yu Xueqing’s shoulder, saw the notification that his wish had been fulfilled and couldn’t help but smile.

Originally, An Sheng planned to fulfill Yu Xueqing’s wish by meeting the condition of family happiness—even going so far as to abandon his dignity to borrow props from Lin Ying for a triumphant homecoming.

But the condition of family happiness in the wish was never met.

Instead, he achieved the harder Ghost Fire ending after a real-life Mortal Kombat with Yu Xueqing’s boss in the living room.

Sigh. If only I’d shaken the egg yolk evenly from the start, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble.

An Sheng sighed with a look of melancholy.

Hmm. Now my wish power has increased by one—I’ll just spend it directly on physique. Next time I see Old Man, when he’s flaunting his superstitions, I’ll treat Qingqing to a “Beat the Old Man Lemon Tea.”

………………

With Yu Xueqing fiercely defending him, An Sheng naturally became a member of the family.

Chen Peipei, delighted by the new addition, called the fish stall owner from her village and asked her to set aside some ingredients for her to pick up later.

But before the dinner barbecue gathering, Chen Peipei carefully approached and removed all of An Sheng’s “time bombs,” placing them on the table.

A watch, a collar, a leather jacket, and four diamond-encrusted gold bracelets.

Chen Peipei’s expression turned peculiar: she glanced at the luxury items on the table, then at the white fox.

It was known that the fox belonged to her daughter.

And it was known that the lowest-valued luxury item on the fox’s person was worth four million.

This outfit had cost two leather bags and two solid-gold bracelets, each set with forty grams of full diamonds.

If An Sheng were a lucky spirit hired by the Lin family, such attire wouldn’t be strange—but the fox was clearly her daughter’s stray find, yet it wore accessories worth at least four million.

In Zhangxizhen, there were people who could afford such spending.

But only the Lin family would casually hand such things to a pet.

“Husband, should we return these things?” Chen Peipei asked Yu Zhenghong, who was kneading egg yolk.

“Return them where? We don’t even know whose they are.” Yu Zhenghong scowled at the fox.

“How big is Zhangxizhen? Who else but the Gunzi Lin family could turn these into pet accessories?”

Here, Chen Peipei’s expression turned even stranger as she looked at the fox, curled on Qingqing’s lap, nuzzling her arm and whimpering softly, and remarked:

“From my perspective, our new little guy clearly masters the art of flattery and cuteness—look how Qingqing’s soul is practically being stolen by that thing.”

“Mmmmm—” An Sheng, hearing his mother-in-law praise him, looked back smugly and waved at Chen Peipei.

Auntie, that’s unfair. Though my behavior may seem like living off my wife’s money, in the dark corners you know nothing about—I’m working my ass off!

In modern society, people have turned the world upside down.

Qingqing sucks my yang energy every night, and I have to pose as a model for photo shoots too.

I’m not eating soft rice—I’m just earning miserable wages.

“Gunzi Lin? The Lin family?” Hearing his wife mention the old-generation name “Lin Holdings,” Yu Zhenghong involuntarily gasped.

The Lin family—or rather, Lin Holdings—was once extremely well-known in Xiadong.

Because they actually had guns.

The Lin clan’s rise began when one of their own was tricked overseas as a coolie; later, he escaped the labor camp, sold fried noodles, and gradually expanded his business.

From fried noodles, as more Lin clan coolies arrived, things spiraled out of control—they shifted from noodles to becoming the top bosses of air-cooled Maxim machine guns.

In modern times, when villagers faced hardship, the Lin clan was always a major donor of money, labor, and supplies.

Though the Lin clan remained overseas, they annually donated to Xiadong, hosted celebrations, and funded temple repairs.

Calling the Lin clan benevolent wasn’t an exaggeration.

Yet even knowing they were kind, ordinary people still kept their distance.

So when Chen Peipei mentioned the fox’s items might be linked to the Lin family, Yu Zhenghong gasped again, nearly jumping out of his seat.

Chen Peipei rolled her eyes. “Let’s go ask the Lin family tomorrow. Otherwise, leaving these here isn’t an option.”

“Go there?”

Yu Zhenghong didn’t want to go. Even though the Lin clan’s days as outlaws were nearly a century ago, and now they quietly did charity work, invisible to the public,

for an ordinary man who just wanted peace, he had no desire to interact with them.

“Why not… call the village head? Hand these over to him.”

“If they really belong to the Lin family, let the village head return them.”

Yu Zhenghong waved his hands frantically—he didn’t want to, and he didn’t want his wife to, either, near those dangerous people.

“You’re such a coward,” Chen Peipei rolled her eyes.

“Mmmmm?”

So what’s the deal with the Lin family? An Sheng, curled in Yu Xueqing’s lap munching on gossip, noticed how hushed Chen Peipei and Yu Zhenghong became whenever they mentioned Lin Ying’s family—he was intensely curious about Lin Ying’s background.

In his past life, An Sheng had made money in Jiule City but had never heard of the Lin family.

Perhaps the world was uneven—or perhaps his status was too low to reach such a behemoth.

Still, he desperately wanted gossip—but Chen Peipei and Yu Zhenghong refused to speak of the Lin family, leaving An Sheng with zero gossip.

An Sheng rolled around in frustration on Yu Xueqing’s lap.

But Yu Xueqing was equally clueless; she didn’t understand what her parents meant by “Lin family.”

The Lin family’s main operations were overseas; domestically, they quietly invested in labor-intensive industries, provided jobs, and purely engaged in charity.

They didn’t want fame—only to quietly maintain their reputation.

“That’s it. We’re ordinary folks—what right do we have to knock on the Lin family’s door? Let the village head handle it. Old Chen has influence in the village; his word carries weight.”

Yu Zhenghong nodded firmly, decisively settling the matter.

Yu Zhenghong took the items and left, instructing Chen Peipei to explain livestream selling to Qingqing.

When An Sheng barged in, the three of them had already been discussing this.

But An Sheng had forcefully interrupted.

Yu Zhenghong had no talent for livestream selling.

But the tea was high-quality, shipped directly from origin, and priced very reasonably.

Logically, he shouldn’t have lost money—even if he didn’t get rich, he shouldn’t have gone bankrupt.

Yet Yu Zhenghong lost everything—even his underwear.

The reason was simple: he’d made enemies.

Those people specifically targeted Yu Zhenghong.

Whenever he livestreamed, they livestreamed too, requested live links, and when he refused, they flooded the comments with porn links and reported him.

For months, they tormented him relentlessly.

He made no money, and worse—he was infuriated by people who constantly insulted his ancestry.

But if he refused live links, his stream would explode.

Recently, Yu Zhenghong’s medical checkup revealed his blood pressure was dangerously high from prolonged arguments.

If he continued at this level, he risked a ruptured blood vessel.

He still wanted to livestream—he’d invested tens of thousands and couldn’t bear to lose it all.

But Chen Peipei kept urging him not to risk his health.

“That’s so unfair—who did Dad offend?”

Hearing her mother’s story, Yu Xueqing’s eyes turned red.

Before, her father had only told her he was unattractive to young viewers and couldn’t sell products.

She never imagined such a dark story lay behind his livestreaming.

This was too cruel!

Not only did he make no money—he nearly ruined his health.

(End of Chapter)