Chapter 112:

After returning, Ding Minxiu quieted down. Zhao Qiaoniang watched her sitting dazedly on the stool, saying nothing, her hollow eyes fixed on a point in the air, fists clenched tightly. She was deeply worried.

Seeing her daughter like this made her heart race.

Zhou Changshou was also in a bad mood. Seeing Ding Minxiu like this, he had no energy to comfort her. He himself felt uncomfortable—where would he find the extra time and energy to persuade her to cheer up? Right now, he was the one who needed someone to console him.

Looking at the cramped little space, Zhou Changshou slowly lay down, staring at the wall. If only—if only his son and Yu Xiang’an had gotten married smoothly back then, wouldn’t he be strolling through that grand office building right now?

People would respectfully call him “Sir.” He wouldn’t have to do anything, just sit there happily.

A big house, delicious food—everything would be his.

But now, this daughter-in-law couldn’t earn as much as Yu Xiang’an, didn’t have her education, and even in terms of having children, she fell short.

Although she gave the Zhou family a son, Yu Xiang’an had twins—a boy and a girl. The Yu family had a tradition of twins. If things had gone differently, the Zhou family might have broken their curse of single-line inheritance.

…What a shame.

Why did his son fall for her back then?

Zhao Qiaoniang poured Ding Minxiu a glass of water and forced her to take small sips.

As the warm water went down, Ding Minxiu let out a long exhale. Her eyes flickered, showing signs of life again.

She looked at Zhao Qiaoniang. “Mom, why aren’t you surprised at all? Did you already know? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you hiding it for her? Why?”

One question after another, all accusatory.

Zhao Qiaoniang’s mouth tasted bitter. “I didn’t know that place was hers. If I had, I wouldn’t have gone to see it.” Seeing it had made her heart ache, as if ants were gnawing at it.

Ding Minxiu didn’t believe her. “Then why were you so calm when others talked about her?!”

Zhao Qiaoniang was silent for a few seconds. “I ran into her before, at the food court. I knew the food court was hers, but I didn’t know the office building was also connected to her.”

The food court—Ding Minxiu’s mind raced, searching her memories.

She remembered. “Was it that time you came back from handing out flyers and forgot to cook?”

That time, they had a huge fight.

Zhao Qiaoniang nodded, tacitly admitting it.

Ding Minxiu took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Zhao Qiaoniang shook her head with a bitter smile. “What good would telling you do, except make you feel worse?”

“Of course it would help!” Ding Minxiu suddenly stood up, laughing coldly. “She must have used connections to grow her business so big. Didn’t they say the man she married had a father who was a factory director? He must have pulled strings for her! That’s how Yu Xiang’an built such a fortune!” The more she spoke, the more convinced she became, as if it were the undeniable truth.

She didn’t know about Lin Houpu’s promotion and transfer. After racking her brain, she concluded that his position was the highest and most likely to have opened doors for Yu Xiang’an. So she clung to this belief unshakably.

Her tone grew indignant. “People like her must have embezzled so much state property! How can we just stand by and watch?”

Ding Minxiu clenched her fists, staring at her hands. She had to expose how Yu Xiang’an had amassed such ill-gotten gains.

She started asking around, but the more she learned, the more despair she felt. The gap between them was like heaven and earth.

Why was this happening? The world was so unfair!

Sometimes, she’d ask passersby if they knew how Yu Xiang’an had gotten rich. Most said she started with a restaurant and gradually expanded.

Ding Minxiu didn’t believe it.

She must have exploited some loophole.

She made a special trip back to Baishi County to ask around near the Yu family. But she found that the neighbors had no idea how big Yu Xiang’an’s business in the Special Economic Zone was—they only knew she was doing business there.

They didn’t know she was a factory director or how much money she made.

This only proved that Yu Xiang’an knew her wealth was ill-gotten, which was why she kept it secret!

Zhou Changshou had come back with her, so Zhou Boyang also learned what had happened. He was in a foul mood, his face dark. His current job was easy, but that meant little pay. He’d rather be busy.

But it was useless.

Everyone was stuck in the same idle situation. Now, with this news, it was no wonder Zhou Boyang was frustrated.

Ding Minxiu was already on edge. Sensing his thoughts, she exploded, screaming at him, “Do you regret it? I knew you did! If you regret marrying me, then go find her! See if she’ll even look at you!”

Zhou Boyang staggered when she shoved him. His expression darkened. “Enough! Stop imagining things! Can’t you stop being crazy?!”

Had he never thought about it? Of course he had. But standing next to Lin Chuanbai, how could he compare? One look in the mirror, and the thought vanished. Now, Ding Minxiu’s words stoked his anger. He held back—if he really said what he was thinking, their home would never know peace again. They were grandparents now. What was the point of saying such things at their age?

So he closed his eyes and lay back down, unwilling to engage. “If you want to go crazy, do it outside. I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

Ding Minxiu glared at him hatefully. Zhou Boyang turned over, his back to her.

She scoffed and actually left, spreading word about Yu Xiang’an’s situation.

“Oh, you didn’t know? I heard she’s a factory director in the Special Economic Zone, managing hundreds of people. Weren’t you looking for a job? Maybe she can help you.”

“You don’t know? I heard she’s doing really well there, even made the newspapers. But they’ve kept it all hush-hush here—probably afraid poor relatives like us would come knocking.”

“She rose so fast. Who knows if her methods were legal?”

“Don’t say that. She has connections.”

Yu Xiang’an wasn’t there, but Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia were.

And their success was thanks to Yu Xiang’an.

They were the beneficiaries.

Soon, many people came to them.

Yu Xianghai worked at the hardware factory, where Yu Qingshan had also worked before retiring with a pension.

He had many old connections there.

In fact, all of Yu Xianghai’s social ties were in that place.

Some came to verify the rumors, asking if what they’d heard was true.

Once they learned, Yu Xianghai didn’t deny it.

They weren’t aimless—their goals were simple: jobs for their children.

Their arguments were all the same: “We’re fellow villagers. We’re familiar, not strangers. If she’s hiring, why not choose people she knows?”

Yu Xianghai: “Would you be willing to wait tables or deliver food?”

That silenced some. “…But didn’t she open a factory?”

Yu Xianghai: “The factory already has workers. And hiring requires assessments. Experienced workers are better than newcomers. Even the restaurants have standards—if you don’t meet them, you can’t work.”

Most who approached him were old acquaintances, many retired. At their age, rehiring wasn’t feasible. As for their children—those truly struggling, Yu Xianghai would’ve helped long ago. Some were in bad situations because of their own doing. Knowing their roots was one thing, but what use was that if they’d only drag others down or act entitled?

Hearing about waiting tables made many balk.

But for those willing to work hard and genuinely seeking jobs, Yu Xianghai didn’t refuse. He referred them to Yu Xiang’an.

Yu Xiang’an shared his stance.

At the start, she hadn’t wanted too many acquaintances. But now that the framework was set and management stable, hiring a few from her hometown wasn’t an issue—though she’d be strict. Those looking to slack off need not apply.

She wasn’t running a charity for spoiled brats.

Yu Xianghai screened out the lazy ones who just wanted a paycheck.

No one’s money grew on trees. If they wanted to do good, they might as well sponsor students—why waste it on able-bodied adults?

Old Lady Chen, who lived near the Yu family, was the loudest. Her third son, already grown, still relied on his siblings for support. Unwilling to work, he now saw this as an opportunity. But given his attitude, Yu Xianghai flatly refused.

Old Lady Chen threw a tantrum, accusing him of heartlessness. But Yu Xianghai stood firm.

What neighborly affection? He still remembered how she’d gossiped the most when rumors about his sister, Zhou Boyang, and Ding Minxiu had spread.

Did she think he’d forgotten after all these years? Yu Xianghai remembered every word.

Some who didn’t know the past thought him harsh. But many still recalled what had happened.

If it were them, they wouldn’t have let it slide either.

Realizing her loose tongue had cost her, Old Lady Chen regretted it deeply. Out of all the people she could’ve gossiped about, why Yu Xiang’an?

Now, the woman was successful—and held a grudge.

Her third son had missed out on a good job. If only she could turn back time, she’d stand by Yu Xiang’an and curse those gossips herself. Maybe then, her son could’ve gotten a managerial position.

Some aimed too high, wanting to start as supervisors, claiming they could oversee others. Yu Xiang’an found this ridiculous. With her structure in place, such people would’ve been deadweight during the startup phase.

Mostly, Yu Qingshan handled these matters. His seniority and age made it easier for the villagers to accept his decisions.

The storm Ding Minxiu had stirred up gradually subsided. Only those whose families had been rejected still complained, but everyone knew their usual behavior and ignored them.

Ding Minxiu was fuming.

Zhou Boyang accepted reality faster. Seeing her despondent, he tried to console her: “Let it go. She’s in a completely different league now. What’s the point of all this?” If anyone should feel resentful, shouldn’t it be me?

He swallowed the last part.

But even unspoken, Ding Minxiu understood. Her face darkened. Not even her adorable grandson reaching out for a hug could cheer her up.

Zhao Qiaoniang dragged her back to work. If they took more leave, they’d lose their jobs. Instead of dwelling on the impossible, they should focus on living well.

Seeing no support from them, Ding Minxiu, who’d been hesitant, now made up her mind.

Seizing an opportunity, she slipped a letter of complaint into the mailbox…

Regarding this incident, Yu Xiang’an was puzzled—why had it suddenly blown up?

Lin Chuanbai: “Even if it wasn’t now, it wouldn’t have taken much longer. When you first appeared in the newspapers, I thought the locals would have found out. Apparently, not many people read the papers. As for why it’s concentrated now—probably envy. Maybe someone with a grudge discovered it and blew it out of proportion.”

Yu Xiang’an: “…” Very possible.

Yu Mansheng had faced this early on.

Leading village youths to seek work, his scale meant secrecy was impossible.

Many young villagers unwilling to farm came to him. Even those not interested in his line of work used him as a stepping stone before finding other jobs.

In their village, he was the “big shot.” Many approached him—most commonly, to borrow money.

He usually lent, especially for genuine needs like building a house or marrying.

But he insisted on IOUs with repayment deadlines.

For those truly struggling, he didn’t press. The IOUs were to deter those who saw him as an ATM.

Most had pride. Those who could repay but didn’t—and still wanted more?

Producing the IOU usually shut them up.

On a whim, Yu Xiang’an visited the twins at school.

Unexpectedly, she stumbled upon a very campus-like scene—Lin Yihong being called into a small grove. Spotting the pink envelope in the other person’s hand and her tall, composed son, Yu Xiang’an thought to herself: Well, well!

Looking at the calm expression on Lin Yihong’s face, it was immediately clear that he had no romantic interest in the female classmate. His composure was too steady—definitely not his first time dealing with such a situation.

Yu Xiang’an instinctively stepped aside to avoid interrupting them.

Lin Yihong sighed when he saw his mother’s reaction. Why was she so different? Most parents would rush to stop something like this to prevent their child from early romance. But in his case, his mother just stood by and watched.

“Sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now. I just want to focus on my studies.”

The female classmate didn’t seem surprised—his reason hadn’t changed. “I know, but I like you, and I wanted to tell you. Will you at least take this letter?” She mustered her courage, hoping he would accept it.

Lin Yihong shook his head. Disappointment flashed across her face as she slowly withdrew her hand. “Alright then. Sorry to bother you. I hope you get into the university you like!”

With that, she turned and ran off.

Yu Xiang’an: “…”

Wasn’t that reaction a bit too strange? She had just been rejected, yet she seemed so composed.

Lin Yihong walked up to Yu Xiang’an. “Mom, why are you here?”

Yu Xiang’an: “Just came to check on you at school.”

They always said everything was fine at school, and logically, it should be. But some details could only be known by seeing them firsthand—like what had just happened.

“Does this kind of thing happen often?”

Lin Yihong shook his head, feigning innocence. “Mom, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

Fine, if he didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t push.

“Anyway, I still lean toward discouraging early romance. People have limited energy. Spending more on this means less on studies.”

Lin Yihong nodded. “I know.”

He already felt like his time was stretched thin. Aside from regular classes, he had signed up for additional courses, filling every spare moment.

Yu Xiang’an was aware of his schedule—all of which he had chosen himself. “If the workload is too much, you can drop some classes.”

Lin Yihong thought it was manageable. Besides, he wanted to attend the final round of the architectural design competition.

His academics were solid. Even if he took some time off, he could easily catch up.

“I want to go and experience it.” Capital University was one of the top institutions in the country.

He had visited often as a child, but since moving south, he hadn’t been back.

Yu Xiang’an hesitated. “I’ll need to ask your teacher. If he agrees, you can go. If not, then forget it.”

Chen Yi’s father agreed and even asked if Lin Yining wanted to join.

The twins were practically inseparable. Given their consistently strong grades, Chen Yi’s father was accommodating. If it had been someone with poorer grades, he wouldn’t have been so lenient.

When Lin Yining heard the news, she cheered. “I’m going too! I don’t want to miss it!”

Now they could fly back, saving a lot of time. They could easily make up any missed classes afterward.

Seeing their excitement, Yu Xiang’an asked, “Do you want to go abroad?”

If they were interested, she could take them during winter break.

Of course, the twins were thrilled. But amidst the excitement, Lin Yining had a thought. “Mom, are you going for fun or work?”

Yu Xiang’an grinned. “Both.”

She had business in Germany regarding a production line.

Lin Yining wasn’t surprised. She had suspected as much.

Lin Yihong asked, “What do we need to prepare?”

Yu Xiang’an: “Practice your English—it’s the universal language. If you’re interested, you could also learn some German or Italian. More skills never hurt.”

…

Capital University intended to use this competition to boost its reputation. The substantial prize money was a major draw. If it hadn’t been strictly a student competition, even professors might have participated.

The high stakes attracted a large audience—not just students but outsiders as well.

Yu Xiang’an was one of the judges, sitting alongside architecture professors as the eight finalists presented their designs and explained their concepts.

The twins sat in the audience.

The front row was reserved for faculty and officials, while they occupied a corner in the second row.

Other attendees assumed they were freshmen, given their youthful faces.

Next to them sat a second-year architecture student with a mushroom haircut and thick glasses, watching the stage with envy. He muttered under his breath, “If only I’d started school a year earlier! Then I’d be a junior now and could compete.”

Lin Yining chuckled at his obvious frustration and reassured him, “Don’t worry, there’ll be other chances.”

Mushroom Head: “What other chances? Sure, there are school-level competitions, but the prizes are nothing compared to this. Ten thousand yuan for first place! If I earn two hundred a month after graduation, saving two thousand a year, it’d take me five years to save that much!”

His blunt honesty about his motivation made Lin Yining smile.

A girl behind them leaned in. “Same! The prize money drew me too. The sponsor’s up there right now. I’m in business administration—wonder if they hire my major? I’d love to ask about salaries. With that kind of generosity, the pay must be good.”

This was exactly Yu Xiang’an’s goal—to signal her eagerness for talent.

The twins exchanged a glance. Mission accomplished.

Mushroom Head looked at the girl. “You’ve already decided where to work? I’m still unsure.”

“Not yet. I’ll go wherever the benefits are best.”

…

As the competition concluded, the host announced the results: “First place—Gu Sheng. Second—Ouyang Hai. Third—Wang Ziwen…”

After the rankings were announced, Yu Xiang’an presented the winner with a certificate and a check.

The sight of the check drew thunderous applause.

Mushroom Head groaned in envy. “Ahhh! I feel like my skills aren’t bad either. What a waste!”

A junior sitting behind him rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so confident. I competed and got eliminated in the second round. You have no idea how many talented people entered. And you, freshman—master the basics first before dreaming big. Study hard, and your chance will come.”

The twins: “…” Now might not be the best time to reveal their identities.

After the event, as the crowd dispersed, Mushroom Head and the others stayed, watching the twins approach the stage. Their eyes widened.

“Aren’t they freshmen?”

Ears perked up as they overheard—they were Yu Xiang’an’s children!

Mushroom Head gaped, while the business student slapped her thigh. “Darn it! I forgot to ask about the salary!”