Chapter 19: Fox Chaos

[Wish fulfilled: Good people receive good rewards (if making them glorify their ancestors and causing black smoke to gush endlessly from their graves could change things for Yu Xueqing’s family, perhaps they wouldn’t need black-haired people to bury white-haired ones).]

“Huh?”

After seeing Yu Xueqing’s wish and its fulfillment condition on the list, An Sheng froze, his fox face suddenly solemn.

The wish fulfillment note specified that good people must receive good rewards—and the “perfect fulfillment” line explicitly stated the horrifying phrase: “black-haired people bury white-haired ones.”

Earlier, An Sheng had only been furious at the commercial middlemen for insulting his own caretaker.

But upon deeper reflection, the perfect fulfillment conditions in the wish list weren’t exaggerated at all.

If Yu Xueqing hadn’t found An Sheng, her family’s uphill tea plantation would have remained barren wasteland.

Even the rodent infestation might have spread across the entire hillside.

Tree roots weren’t on mountain rats’ menus, but once the ammunition depot’s canned food ran out, those starving rats wouldn’t care whether roots tasted good or not.

After generations of breeding, tens of thousands of mountain rats swarmed out of Uphill Hill.

This tea plantation, famed for Dongding Oolong, would produce nothing for the next two years—and hiring professionals to eradicate the rodents and decontaminate Uphill Hill would cost a fortune.

Yu Zhenghong, Yu Xueqing’s father, juggled three jobs: managing the leased land for tea cultivation, running a tea shop, and livestreaming sales online.

According to An Sheng’s knowledge, Yu Zhenghong and Chen Peipei had no plans for a second child.

They owned a car and a house; there shouldn’t be any major expenses.

Most people—even those working 007 jobs—wouldn’t push themselves this hard unless they desperately needed cash.

So An Sheng could only think of one possibility.

Yu Zhenghong’s tea shop was clearly struggling financially, forcing him to invest upstream and pursue multiple income streams.

Many people unfamiliar with tea assume it’s expensive, elitist, and a closed, hyper-profitable industry.

After all, online listings for Da Hong Pao or Longjing green tea often cost tens of thousands—enough to make anyone’s heart race.

This creates a false impression: aside from blended teas, tea can be drunk for three to five yuan per jin, or thirty, fifty, even three hundred yuan per jin.

Three to seven grams per brew yields about seven hundred milliliters of tea broth—enough for one person to sip all afternoon.

After one tea customer drinks, they may not return for half a year.

With the rise of online shopping, longtime local tea drinkers increasingly choose other regional specialties for novelty, reducing visits to physical stores.

An Sheng had faced this problem in his past life.

After going solo, he encountered the same wave of conflict between online shopping and brick-and-mortar stores seen in other industries.

The market gave him two choices.

One: invest heavily, transforming from retailer to supplier or tea plantation owner.

Two: invest more, copying other shop owners by opening online stores, spending heavily on traffic, and competing fiercely online and offline until losses were maximized.

Either choice, if unsuccessful, meant immediate debt starting at over a million.

But An Sheng chose neither—he focused on the underserved market, carving a niche by tricking connoisseurs out of their money.

Drink hammer-fried tea! Come try mine—old man, small iron wok, stir-fried all day long, producing withered leaves with intense smoky aroma—three pots to get you drunk on tea.

In his past life, An Sheng’s brute force crushed a whole street of connoisseurs with tea made from old-tree leaves, earning fame.

Of course, that was just his self-deprecating joke—in reality, to penetrate the underserved market, he trekked countless remote mountains to select a few tea tree varieties and create new tea.

The “old man” he mentioned was a well-known local tea master from Jiule City.

The “small iron wok” followed ancient methods: small size concentrated heat, so if you weren’t careful, tea leaves processed through multiple steps would be ruined.

But tea made this way carried caramel aroma and rich grain fragrance, with a lingering sensation of relaxation after initial astringency.

In plain terms, it was like the dry, puckering taste of eating raw persimmon—but that tightness vanished quickly, leaving a refreshing feeling.

An Sheng had succeeded on this path in his past life.

Those so-called connoisseurs were just fickle, spoiled brats.

A construction truck would knock them straight into line.

But!

Compared to helping Yu Xueqing’s family earn money and escape their current financial hardship,

An Sheng now wanted nothing more than to dig up the ancestors’ graves of those commercial middlemen!

Damn it! Their business was already failing, their tea planting was bleeding dry, and the one thing that was starting to improve—the livestream sales—was ruined by you!

From the wish list, if Yu Xueqing hadn’t picked up An Sheng,

Yu Zhenghong would have died of cerebral infarction, the tea plantation would have yielded nothing for years, and chemical agents used in the soil would take years to naturally degrade.

During that time, Chen Peipei and Yu Xueqing would still have to pay for tea plantation equipment maintenance and rodent extermination.

That group of middlemen, intentionally or not, had driven Yu Xueqing’s family to the brink.

Whether Yu Xueqing could endure it, An Sheng didn’t know.

But An Sheng absolutely couldn’t swallow this insult.

“Xiao An… what’s wrong? You look so serious.”

Yu Xueqing, burning charcoal in the courtyard for tonight’s barbecue, was drenched in sweat, her small face smudged with soot.

While lighting the fire, she hadn’t noticed her little fox had been silent.

Now that the charcoal was ready, she saw An Sheng crouched on the flowerbed, expression grave, gaze sharp—as if pondering some grave matter.

If only her phone were nearby, she’d have snapped a photo of her fox’s serious face.

If only her phone were nearby, Yu Xueqing would have taken plenty of photos of her own fox.

Hearing Yu Xueqing’s call, An Sheng snapped out of his thoughts, suppressing his irritation, bounding happily into her arms, cooing incessantly.

Hearing Yu Xueqing’s call, An Sheng snapped out of his thoughts, temporarily suppressing his irritation, and bounced happily into her arms, cooing nonstop.

Seeing the little fox nuzzle into her, Yu Xueqing’s soot-covered hands couldn’t hold him, but his nose tickled her waist, making her laugh:

“Xiao An, stop it—hahaha, so ticklish!” She laughed uncontrollably, then grabbed his cheeks with her sooty palms.

The once-pristine fox now bore several dirty finger smudges.

“Ying—!” An Sheng exploded, scrambling wildly over her body, leaving footprints everywhere.

While they played, neither noticed someone arriving at the gate.

Yu Zhenghong had just returned with Chen Fengshui.

Before entering, Chen Fengshui heard the fox’s cry—and his heart skipped.

That shrill, piercing voice—no mistake—it was definitely that spirit fox.

That shrill, nasal voice—there’s no mistake, it’s definitely that spirit fox.

At Yu Zhenghong’s gate, Chen Fengshui saw the spirit fox. His face changed; he turned to Yu Zhenghong: “Let’s skip dinner.”

“It was just a quick visit, but I just remembered—I forgot to turn off the heater for my fish tank. I need to check on my Lan Shou fish.”

“It was just a matter of going over, but I suddenly remembered I forgot to turn off the heater for my fish tank. I need to check on those Lan Shou fish.”

Chen Fengshui hadn’t spoken, but the moment he did, An Sheng, who’d been playfully tumbling with Yu Xueqing, turned sharply.

An Sheng let out a soft cry, perched on Yu Xueqing’s shoulder, staring hotly at Chen Fengshui at the gate.

Chen Fengshui sensed it—he stiffened and turned to Yu Zhenghong: “Actually… Lan Shou fish soup might be worth trying.”

Damn—he’d been so caught up chatting with Yu Zhenghong, he’d forgotten his daughter had brought home a real thorn.

Damn, I got so caught up chatting with Yu Zhenghong that I forgot his daughter brought home a stubborn little thing.

Old Chen, you’ve arrived at the perfect moment.

I was just thinking of visiting you tonight to ask about your middlemen crew—and now you show up on your own. An Sheng couldn’t help but grin.

People eating outside, chapter two might be late.

New book period: seeking monthly votes, reads, and collections

New book period: seeking monthly votes, following reads, and collections



(End of chapter)

(End of Chapter)