Chapter 92: 090 Armed to the Teeth (8k)

Set strategy, clarify tactics, build a team, allocate budget.

Before Yu Xing returned to Shanghai, Baixiaosheng had estimated monthly expenses at around 90,000.

But since he took charge, that figure has far exceeded expectations.

Yu Xing limited ground promotion to only five cities—highly restrained—and planned to form five-person teams in each, equally restrained; just this alone meant 25 new hires.

At a pre-tax salary standard of 4,000, this added 100,000 in monthly costs; in reality, after accounting for social insurance and housing fund contributions, labor expenses rose by another 40,000.

Even this modest market plan alone increased the budget by 140,000.

Add employee growth in other departments, extra subsidies, and other costs, and Baixiaosheng’s monthly expenditure would surge to around 300,000.

In business terms, 300,000 a month is negligible, but for a startup, such budget growth is intensely pressuring.

Yu Xing could easily calculate this.

Originally, he woke up each day to lose 3,000; soon it would be 10,000.

Wake up, ten thousand; wake up again, another ten thousand; wake up once more, yet another ten thousand…

Life in a big city is hard.

Entrepreneurship is hard too.

Yu Xing felt this pressure more acutely than anyone else.

Including Liu Wan’s money, Baixiaosheng’s operational runway was only six months.

Building a team is difficult; without cash, the heart grows anxious.

Can we really raise funds within six months? Can we really get good terms?

After much thought, Yu Xing decided he must take the initiative—he couldn’t put all his eggs in one basket.

The next morning, after reviewing and verifying the data again, he emailed Liu Wan the nationwide statistics on Fen Zhong, along with a text message.

Yu Xing did not join the ground promotion that day; Zhong Zhiling led the same five people to Zhangjiang High-Tech Park, first to visit new internet companies, second to consider expanding on Ctrip’s success—it had far more employees than other internet firms due to its headquarters in Shanghai.

At nine a.m., Yu Xing received a call from Liu Wan; he patted an employee on the shoulder, ended the discussion on website design, and walked into his office.

Moments later, considering the office’s poor soundproofing, Yu Xing took his phone downstairs—he decided to hire someone the next day to install soundproofing in the conference room; after all, he lost ten thousand every morning, so this extra cost didn’t matter.

“Yu Laoban, it’s hard to get you on the phone,” Liu Wan joked.

Yu Xing said seriously: “If you’re determined, I’ll make this call even if I have to go up and down the stairs.”

Liu Wan teased: “Only if you’re determined to make money, right?”

Yu Xing scoffed: “You want me to be clear, Liu Wan—this is a…”

“Fen Zhong’s numbers are inflated,” Liu Wan cut in abruptly, backing off slightly.

Yu Xing smoothly continued: “Yes, they claim 120,000 screens, but there are only about 80,000—over 30% inflation—and in first-tier cities, actual coverage is only 17%, far below their claimed 28%.”

These were two critical figures.

Moreover, the commercial-to-residential ratio didn’t match—residential screens had lower value.

Fen Zhong claimed most screens were in commercial areas, but in first-tier cities, commercial coverage was only 45%; in second-tier cities, it was just 30%.

Thus, whether in quantity or effectiveness, Fen Zhong’s data was watered down.

With core foundational data flawed, the financial reports naturally were too.

“Just this alone is enough for Guoshanfeng to question them,” Liu Wan stated first, then added, “I’ve reviewed their financials—I’ll send you the final draft after I finalize it. Also, something interesting: in 2006, Fen Zhong made a related-party transaction, acquiring a mobile advertising service company called Kaiwei Dian Gao for $30 million.”

“Kaiwei Dian Gao’s owner, Xu Maodong, then acquired another company in the same business, BaiFen Tong Lian, whose shareholder was a Fen Zhong employee.”

“Fen Zhong also transferred another subsidiary to BaiFen Tong Lian.”

“Ultimately, Fen Zhong recorded a $26.8 million asset impairment in its financial statements.”

“BaiFen Tong Lian is now seeking funding.”

Yu Xing carefully traced it: A acquired B; B’s owner acquired C; C’s shareholder was A’s employee; A transferred a subsidiary to C; and A recorded a massive asset impairment.

Oh, and C is now seeking funding.

After sorting it out, he asked: “Is this to conceal the company’s true operating condition?”

“Very likely,” Liu Wan explained. “If financial data is inflated beyond reality, they’re probably using asset impairment transactions to make the numbers align.”

“Fen Zhong’s frequent impairments over the past two years fit this motive.”

If the base data is flawed, the derived reports must match—but there isn’t enough real money. What do you do?

Polite term: earnings management.

Blunt term: profit manipulation.

Liu Wan continued: “Yu Laoban, do you know what this means?”

Yu Xing said slowly: “It means we can take them down?”

“It means your instinct to avoid equity penetration was absolutely right,” Liu Wan smiled. “Otherwise, you’d be making enemies with a whole crowd—not just Fen Zhong’s stock price, but if this leaks, BaiFen Tong Lian’s funding will collapse.”

Yu Xing paused: “Hmm…”

He suddenly felt the name Xu Maodong was familiar—Xu Maodong…

This familiarity wasn’t a good sign.

Liu Wan heard no reply; her expression stayed smiling, but her tone tightened: “Also, Fen Zhong is a Chinese ADR listed in the U.S.—do you think it’s morally right to short it, regardless of whether it’s fraudulent?”

She briefly considered: Yu Laoban was launching a new project, and so far it was going well—he might have a brighter future; if he now hesitated, it was understandable.

The word “morality” triggered Yu Xing’s memory: Was this Xu Maodong the same guy who later launched “WowoTuan”?

WoWoTuan later went public on Nasdaq.

But his deeper memory was of this man using leverage to control two domestic listed companies, “Tianma” and “Busen,” eventually stealing billions and fleeing to the U.S., creating a stock market scandal.

Liu Wan still heard no reply; her tone grew slightly more serious: “Yu Laoban, you can still back out now.”

“Back out? No, I was just wondering if we can finish the investigation report before the New Year—I don’t want to wait until after,” Yu Xing replied, then answered her earlier question: “Morality? Are they so virtuous? Only scamming abroad? Are domestic retail investors harder to fleece than foreigners?”

He added: “Fake is fake.”

Yu Xing added another line: “Guoshanfeng must stay hidden…”

Liu Wan confirmed: “You’re not backing out?”

“Xiao Ying, I’m broke,” Yu Xing shifted to a practical matter. “Whether to stop or not—we’ll talk after we finish this one.”

Liu Wan murmured “Mm,” satisfied with this stance.

She brought up the timing for shorting: “Data needs to be compiled into the research report. There’s Christmas next month—U.S. offices will be closed. The earliest we can short is January. The market’s still volatile, but global central banks are stepping in.”

“If we want maximum profit, even the most optimistic estimate puts us waiting until next year’s second half.”

Yu Xing didn’t need to calculate: “Next year’s second half is too late—I need funding support. I worry financing won’t go smoothly under Baixiaosheng’s current conditions; without cash, the pressure is unbearable.”

But as a partner, this wasn’t fair to Liu Wan.

If judged by Guoshanfeng’s goal, with current knowledge of a listed company’s financial fraud, they could easily wait until next year’s second half.

“Xiao Ying, here’s the deal: you stick with me on this one, and I’ll stick with you on the next. After two hits, we’ll decide whether to stop,” Yu Xing, within two minutes, postponed any talk of backing out.

Liu Wan chuckled: “Are listed company scandals that easy to find? When will the next one come?”

But she added: “Fen Zhong’s issues were your discovery; you personally counted the base data; you arranged the data collection in other cities. Though rushed, I accept your authority.”

Yu Xing quickly decided: “Then let’s set it for January—strike before the New Year, then celebrate a fat year!”

Liu Wan said slowly: “Alright.”

“Good!” Yu Xing’s voice rose with energy. “Let’s become the righteous bandits who rob the rich to help the poor!”

Liu Wan scoffed: “Who’s your ‘righteous bandit’?”

“About the righteous bandits—we’ll discuss it on the 30th,” Yu Xing said. “I’ll be home on the 28th, go to Jin Ling on the 30th morning for some business, then visit my Master in the afternoon—I’ll see you then.”

Liu Wan smiled: “Thanks for the ‘then.’”

“No problem. See you in a few days. Don’t send me the report—show me in person. You can still guide me.” Yu Xing finally asked, “Is there anything else you want to say?”

Liu Wan paused: “Want to say…”

“Yes—how tired are you from entrepreneurship? How much pressure? Do you miss me? Say whatever’s on your mind,” Yu Xing said solemnly.

Liu Wan understood: “Goodbye.”

Yu Xing’s words were cut off by the dial tone—yes, they’d see each other again soon.

He put his phone in his pocket and mentally reviewed all the information.

Behind one company lies a web of others—some known, some completely invisible.

But no matter—they don’t know us either.

Yu Xing narrowed his eyes: With a sharp blade in hand, the will to kill arises!

January next year—sword in hand, follow me!

“Hey, buddy, hi—is this Shuohe International?”

A voice interrupted Yu Xing’s dark thoughts.

Yu Xing looked up—it was a young man—and replied: “Yes, this is it.”

“Oh, thanks,” the young man said, heading toward the office building, then noticed Yu Xing waiting for the elevator too. He asked, “Do you know where Baixiaosheng is on the sixth floor?”

Yu Xing nodded: “Yes.”

The young man asked shrewdly: “You’re not an employee of Baixiaosheng, are you?”

Yu Xing shook his head: “No.”

The young man grinned: “I’m here for an interview. Hey, buddy, how’s this company? Is it a shell company? Have you seen anything suspicious around here?”

He’d been invited for an interview but worried the company’s odd name might be sketchy.

Yu Xing replied briefly: “Fine. No.”

They entered the elevator; the young man pressed 6. Seeing Yu Xing didn’t press a button, he hesitated—was he working next door?

When they exited, he saw Yu Xing walking the same direction—and asked, slightly annoyed: “Didn’t you say you weren’t from Baixiaosheng?”

Yu Xing pushed open the door and turned back with a smile: “Yeah, I’m not an employee—I’m the boss.”

The young man: “...”

Do you even need to interview anymore?

This feels like you’ve jumped straight to the final round...

He still mustered the courage to walk into the company and, after much anxiety, became a member of Baixiaosheng.

Just two days later, the newly hired Lu Guobin found himself suddenly among those interviewing others...

Run or stay?

This is a question concerning his future.

On November 28, Lu Guobin received his boss’s work assignment and finally decided to stay at Baixiaosheng.

“I’m going to finalize the angel investment these next few days—I expect to be back on the 1st or 2nd, and the money should arrive next month.”

“The company is growing fast—this month’s user registrations will break ten thousand.”

“From zero to ten thousand—that was accomplished in less than a month.”

“Ten thousand is already here—how far is fifty thousand? How far is one hundred thousand?”

“The millions and tens of millions of the future start this month!”

“Everyone, push hard!”

After speaking, Yu Xing was the first to clap—rarely did he pump up the team like this.

The wave of student conversions has clearly passed; daily online registrations now hover between 300 and 500, while offline outreach has recently been at 200 to 300.

The former will continue to decline, while the latter will rise as the team splits into smaller units.

If daily user growth can remain around 500, we expect to reach 25,000 to 30,000 users by the end of 2008.

This still falls short of Yu Xing’s initial target of 50,000, but there’s another explosive growth method in reserve—something he can unveil around the end of December or early January.

One major advantage of a small company is its ability to adjust at any time.

Strategy and tactics are being adjusted; budget and team are being adjusted; goals and methods are being adjusted.

At three in the afternoon, after giving final instructions to Lu Haiying, Zhong Zhiling, and Song Yufeng, Yu Xing boarded the bus home.

In the evening, a gold necklace and a pack of cigarettes arrived home, and Yu Xing enjoyed the warmth of family.

Of course, there was a bit of interrogation too.

“Your company really just sold off like that?”

“You made so much money—how could you just spend it all so freely?”

“How did you actually manage to send your younger brother to Japan?”

Chu Qiying closely watched her son’s actions but, not seeing him in person, refused to pressure him over the phone.

“Ask my uncle—he called me out of the blue, and I figured he couldn’t wait, so I had someone take him.” Yu Xing answered the important question first, then the secondary one: “The new company will create more value, but it needs upfront investment—it’s no big deal.”

Yu Guosheng chimed in: “Xingxing sent Xiaoguang to Japan to buy seeds, not to sell himself—what’s there to worry about? Xingxing is a proper company boss—he wouldn’t act carelessly.”

Yu Xing grunted—hadn’t he hired a part-time college student to take his cousin to Japan? It should be fine.

There’s no help for it—people are naturally path-dependent.

Yu Guosheng noticed his son’s expression and added: “Xingxing, right?”

Yu Xing nodded calmly: “Correct.”

Yu Guosheng asked again: “Your company’s just starting—how can you possibly leave it?”

“No problem—they’re not idiots. I’m just taking a few days off.” Yu Xing smiled. “Dad, what’s with you? I haven’t even warmed up the couch, and you’re already trying to kick me out?”

Yu Guosheng didn’t mean that—he was just concerned about his son’s fledgling venture.

Yu Xing meant what he said: if he was going to rest, he rested fully—he didn’t call the company once, slept soundly both nights, and though he woke every morning to the same ten thousand users, not having to worry let the tension in his nerves ease.

Chu Qiying understood her son better.

When she saw him off on the 30th, she felt puzzled: “Xingxing, is your company about to get really busy? Or is something big happening?”

Yu Xing froze: “Mom, why are you asking that?”

“Whenever you had a major exam before, you acted exactly like this,” Chu Qiying said without hesitation. “It’s the same now.”

Yu Xing gazed at his mother in the morning light and praised: “Mom, that necklace looks beautiful on you—I’ll buy you a jade bracelet next time.”

Chu Qiying beamed: “Don’t waste money on that. If you’re earning now, find yourself a wife and settle down.”

Yu Xing waved his hand and turned away: “Alright, alright—I’ll go find one right now. Don’t worry—I care more than you do.”

Chu Qiying shook her head, watching her son’s figure grow smaller: “This child.”

She turned to him: “Did you hide the cigarettes at your office?”

Yu Guosheng, basking in the same morning sun, froze, then replied calmly: “What cigarettes?”

Chu Qiying thought for a moment: “I don’t have class this morning—I’ll go with you to the office.”

Yu Guosheng: “...”

On the last day of November, Yu Xing arrived in Jin Ling at 10:10 a.m.

He immediately called the staff member from the previous Internet Conference committee—the one who had helped him find the contacts for Zhen’ai.com, Century Love, and Baihe.com.

This time, Yu Xing wanted more senior corporate contacts.

As expected, it didn’t start smoothly—but after showing him the student employment data on his new website and the genuine congratulations from JD.com and Ctrip executives, the situation improved.

“Your website is free?” the other side asked, puzzled.

“Yes, completely free,” Yu Xing explained. “This year’s situation is unusual—the financial crisis has disrupted many jobs, so my previous project actually made money from students—I’m just giving back.”

The person on the other end browsed Baixiaosheng’s website, saw many students’ job-entry reflections, thought carefully, then said: “Principally, I can’t give you these contacts.”

Yu Xing waited patiently.

After a moment, the voice slowly continued: “But today, I’m considering following up with guest speakers. Since you’re back in Jin Ling, come over now.”

Yu Xing sincerely thanked him: “Thank you, thank you so much—I’ll be right there.”

This was extra help—again!

Yu Xing arrived at the office at 11 a.m. and completed his major mission in Jin Ling in just five minutes, then gave a brief interview, closing the loop.

He insisted, with great effort, on treating the director to lunch.

“No need—I have something else at noon. I think your project is fine.”

Seeing the man truly didn’t want to eat, Yu Xing expressed his heartfelt thanks again: “Director Li, thank you, thank you—call me anytime if you need anything.”

“What would I need from you?” Director Li smiled. “I just think your project is genuinely good. By the way, my child starts job hunting next year.”

Yu Xing paused, then shook hands with Director Li.

This, perhaps, was a kind of recognition.

No matter his original motives, it still served a purpose.

Yu Xing walked along the streets of Jin Ling in November—many tourists around.

This season was always beautiful here: the sound of oars and lantern lights on the Qinhuai River, the autumn hues of Xuanwu Lake, the crimson forests of Qixia Mountain and Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum—this ancient capital of six dynasties had truly endured much.

Maple leaves red, ginkgo leaves golden—truly the perfect season for tourism.

Yu Xing ate crab alone for lunch, drank rice wine, then slowly picked out gifts to bring his teacher.

No cigarettes—he had children at home, and his teacher’s wife was about to give birth.

Wine was fine—Wuliangye.

Candy was fine—for his junior sister.

Pastries were fine—for everyone.

Some tea as well—standard, no problem.

As he shopped, Yu Xing called Liu Wan and confirmed someone was home, then asked: “I bought some things—anything you’d like? I’ll get it all.”

Liu Wan thought for a moment and didn’t refuse: “Bring up some meat, and buy two fish for soup.”

Yu Xing agreed.

When he arrived, he was carrying so many bags he could barely hold them.

His teacher and teacher’s wife weren’t home—they’d been on bed rest due to an unstable pregnancy, and today they’d just been discharged. Now, only Liu Wan and his junior sister Liu Zhi were there.

Yu Xing placed the gift boxes by the door, put the meat in the fridge, unpacked the candy and pastries, and set the fish in the kitchen.

Liu Zhi ran around him excitedly, circling him several times before sitting down to eat pastries and watch TV.

“Boss Yu, can you cook fish soup?” Liu Wan didn’t hold back—she still remembered his last cooking attempt.

Yu Xing had no problem—fish soup was the easiest to make.

Fry both sides of the fish until golden brown, then the most important step: pour in hot water, add tofu, and season only after it boils.

“Xiao Ying, fish soup must use hot water—that’s how you get that milky white broth. Many people don’t know that.” Yu Xing covered the pot, waited for it to boil, and pointed out the method to Liu Wan, who was watching like a spectator.

Liu Wan, cracking sunflower seeds, asked: “How did you learn that?”

Yu Xing thought for a moment and smiled: “My last girlfriend told me.”

Liu Wan wasn’t upset: “She must’ve been virtuous—why did you break up?”

“Oh, it was forced,” Yu Xing said. “No money—when you’re poor, everything goes wrong. Poor couples suffer in every way.”

Liu Wan cracked seeds, nudging: “But now you’ve got money.”

“People’s circumstances change. Loving one person versus loving the person shaped by all those experiences—those are two different things,” Yu Xing shook his head.

Liu Wan nodded: “Didn’t understand you. Did Mom like the gold necklace you bought?”

“Of course she did—I bought it, so of course she’d like it,” Yu Xing grinned. “But I can’t tell which style looks better—they all look the same to me.”

Liu Wan didn’t mind helping: “Next time you buy one, take a photo and send it to me—I’ll help you pick.”

Yu Xing said seriously, “Don’t try to win my mom’s favor right now.”

Liu Wan threw the sunflower seed shells into the trash: “Pfft! I’m going to get the research report—come over in a bit.”

Yu Xing waved his hand, and while the fish soup wasn’t ready yet, he chopped up more meat and vegetables—this dinner would be his own cooking.

Once the fish soup was simmering and kept warm, he washed his hands and went to Liu Wan’s room, where he found the upcoming research report—one in English, one in Chinese.

“This is the document to be filed with the U.S. SEC,” Liu Wan said, pointing to the English version.

Yu Xing nodded and carefully read through Feng’s first research report.

Previous statistical data had already been integrated, forming the core opening section.

The report was forty pages long, divided into three main parts: the initial data, the suspicious related transactions mentioned over the phone, and the acquisition issues and disclosure problems of Fenzhong over the past two years.

Yu Xing read slowly, needing Liu Wan’s explanations for terms he didn’t understand.

After a long while, he finished the last page, his emotions stirred: “Xiao Ying, how valuable do you think this report is? Will it be effective? Through what channels will our funds be deployed? How do we ensure their safety? Besides the SEC, can you tap into media resources in Xiangjiang?”

Liu Wan didn’t mind his excitement, pausing to say, “I’ve compared this with similar short-selling operations by others—I believe this report has real value.”

“As for fund usage, if you trust me, your money can flow through my company’s account—a separate one outside our control chain companies, very secure—and will be used to buy puts from different U.S. brokers.”

“For other media, I’m still considering—if possible, I’d like to create a timing gap, releasing signals first to test market reaction and spark some investor interest.”

Yu Xing took a deep breath, steadied himself, and nodded: “As long as you’ve got it figured out, that’s enough—I trust your ability.”

Liu Wan was about to speak when she heard the front door open: “My brother’s back.”

The two left the room.

Yu Xing hurried forward to greet Teacher Liu Jingrong and his wife Yan Lirong.

Liu Jingrong’s expression was calm; Yan Lirong’s was openly delighted.

“Stop looking so stern,” Liu Wan lazily scolded. “They’re not here to see you—they’re here to see Sister Rong. The fish soup’s ready.”

Yan Lirong turned and scolded her husband: “You’re giving him the cold shoulder? They’re here to see me!”

She looked at Yu Xing and smiled: “You came over, yet you cooked yourself?”

“Because I don’t treat myself as an outsider, Sister Rong,” Yu Xing said, ushering her to sit. “You sit—I’ll stir-fry a few dishes. Everything’s already chopped, just waiting for you two to come back and eat it hot.”

Liu Jingrong hesitated a few seconds, then silently allowed him to cook.

The kitchen quickly grew busy.

Yan Lirong wanted to stay and chat, but pregnancy made her unable to tolerate smoke—she gave up.

Yu Xing cooked efficiently, soon bringing out dish after dish.

At 7:30 p.m., everyone sat at the table.

Liu Jingrong couldn’t help asking about Yu Xing’s current company.

Yu Xing gave him two surprising pieces of news: the sale of Guiai.com and the founding of Baixiaosheng.

“Your company…” Liu Jingrong stared, “how can you treat it like buying groceries—so casually?”

“That one was just timing—it became hard to sustain, so I sold at the right moment,” Yu Xing smiled. “This one won’t be sold so easily, but I’m considering internally incubating a price-comparison tool website.”

Liu Jingrong stayed silent—he didn’t quite understand.

Yan Lirong was simply amazed by the speed of his earnings: “Yu Xing, you’ve really become a big boss—made so much money in a few months. You don’t even need to go back to school.”

Liu Jingrong felt a faint sadness.

Yu Xing modestly deflected a few times.

“Hey, don’t let your teacher fool you,” Yan Lirong sighed. “Lately, he’s been worried about your job situation when he mentions you. Now it’s fine—career success means everything. Once you’re stable, find a girl, settle down, and we’ll both rest easy.”

Liu Jingrong realized he couldn’t guide Yu Xing in his career. After thinking, he said, “There’s some truth to that. Let me see if there are any suitable girls at our school… Oh, I remember—Old Xu told me last time to introduce someone reliable to his daughter.”

Liu Wan glanced at her brother and interrupted: “Enough. This company needs your full attention—why bring this up now? Are you just jealous he’s a boss now?”

Liu Jingrong shot his sister an irritated look.

Yu Xing, however, smiled cheerfully: “Xiao Ying—uh, Sister Ying’s right. I’m focused entirely on my career; love can wait.”

Liu Jingrong and Yan Lirong exchanged glances, both frowning simultaneously.

Dinner was pleasant enough.

Considering Sister Rong needed rest, Yu Xing left after a little more chatting.

Liu Jingrong closed the door, sat on the sofa, and before he could speak, his wife squeezed in beside him.

He held Yan Lirong’s hand and asked seriously: “Liu Wan, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s going on’?” Liu Wan looked confused.

Liu Jingrong chose his words carefully: “You… you and… uh, are you close to Yu Xing?”

Yan Lirong didn’t hide it: “What’s going on? I felt something was off—Yu Xing looked at you differently. Is there something between you two?”

Liu Wan spread her hands: “You two really think too much—what could there possibly be between us?”

Hearing his sister deny it, Liu Jingrong began to think maybe there really wasn’t anything.

At that moment, Liu Zishan picked up a candy from the plate: “The candy my brother bought is delicious.”

Yan Lirong glanced at the candy on the table, pondering the word “candy,” then looked toward the gift by the door, and recalled today’s meal—suddenly surprised: “Yu Xing’s gifts today are suspiciously convenient—tea, candy, wine, pastries… and the fish and meat were bought by him too?”

Liu Wan murmured “Mm,” wondering why they were suddenly talking about this.

Liu Jingrong, hearing his wife’s surprise, suddenly slapped his thigh: “Still say there’s nothing? He bought all six traditional items!”

Liu Wan frowned: “Six traditional items?”

“In our region, these are the traditional gifts for engagement,” Yan Lirong smiled. “Is this thoughtfulness—or intention?”

Liu Wan explained: “The fish and meat? I asked him to bring them along. You two really overthink things.”

She turned to her niece: “Shanshan, right? You heard me ask him, didn’t you?”

Liu Zishan nodded: “Yes, Auntie asked Brother to buy them.”

Yan Lirong thought for a moment, then asked her daughter: “What did Yu Xing talk about with your aunt today?”

Liu Wan huffed—spotless, guilt-free.

Liu Zishan thought a moment, then answered: “Brother and Auntie were talking about a gold necklace.”

Liu Wan stared, dumbfounded.

Liu Jingrong slammed his thigh again—six traditional items plus a gold necklace…

Liu Zishan added: “And Auntie trying to win Brother’s mom’s favor.”

“Wait, no, Shanshan—no, that’s not how it was!” Liu Wan hurried to explain. “We were just chatting—he bought the necklace for his own mom!”

Yan Lirong asked bluntly: “Did they hug? Hold hands?”

Liu Zishan shook her head: “Nope, I didn’t see anything.”

Liu Wan exhaled in relief—her clean reputation almost ruined by this kid’s mouth.

Liu Zishan tilted her head, looking at her parents and aunt, and said clearly: “But Brother and Auntie went into the room together—and stayed a long time.”

Yan Lirong: “!!!”

Liu Wan: “???”

Liu Jingrong kept slapping his thigh: “My own sister… my generation… I…”

He cursed himself for not giving Yu Xing a colder look earlier!

He should’ve given him one!

“I give up—I really give up!” Liu Wan stood up and walked back to her room. “Your whole family is unreliable!”

Yan Lirong watched Liu Wan return to her room, then turned to her husband: “What do we do? Is Yu Xing reliable?”

Liu Jingrong’s expression was complex: “He… he…”

After a long pause, he sighed: “Yu Xing is a decent person.”

But the generational gap is wrong.