Chapter 113:

Yu Xiang’an was fully prepared to take the twins abroad. Besides Song Dong and Wang Yongle, there was also Zhou Si—all of them skilled and reliable. The situation overseas wasn’t as safe as at home, so having them around provided extra peace of mind.

As for language, both she and the twins could communicate fluently. Liu Sanbao, however, was extremely nervous. She hadn’t joined this trip because she didn’t speak English. Watching a newcomer get promoted to assistant filled her with a sense of urgency, but there was nothing she could do. She had enrolled in classes, but language just wasn’t her forte, leaving her to helplessly watch the opportunity slip away.

For this trip abroad, the twins had also prepared thoroughly. Not only had they practiced their spoken English diligently, but they’d also hired tutors to learn German and Italian. Of course, the time was limited, and how much they could grasp depended on their individual aptitude. Still, they could manage basic communication in German without issue.

Upon landing, they took a car to a nearby hotel to adjust to the time difference. Sitting in the car, the twins stared wide-eyed at the bustling streets and pedestrians outside, though they maintained their composure, appearing calm on the surface.

Occasionally spotting blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners back home was one thing, but being in a place where black-haired, yellow-skinned people were the rare sight felt entirely different. Seeing all these fair-skinned foreigners gave them a real sense of being abroad—in a foreign land.

There were well-dressed elites in suits and ties carrying briefcases, as well as sexy women in low-cut tops and tight skirts. Lin Yining’s eyes lingered a little too long on the exposed cleavage. Back home, such revealing outfits were rare—most people dressed conservatively, and even the more open-minded only showed a little skin. Seeing someone dressed so provocatively, with a skirt that seemed on the verge of slipping at any moment, was a first for her in real life.

Aside from the fair-skinned, blond-haired crowd, there were also dark-skinned Black people—tall and muscular, even the women. In comparison, their own figures seemed much slimmer.

The hotel was grand and luxurious, clearly expensive. Matching the opulence was the service—staff who appeared polite on the surface, though the twins keenly sensed an underlying condescension. What were they looking down on? Their Asian heritage. It wasn’t until their mother spoke fluent English that the staff’s attitude became more respectful.

After checking in and paying the hefty deposit—converting the price, it cost thousands per night—the twins were stunned. *So expensive!*

Waiter: “Would you like anything to eat?”

Yu Xiang’an: “Could you please bring us some plain congee, bread, and milk? Thank you.”

She had already known the prices beforehand. Staying here was indeed costly, but it showcased their financial strength, which was useful. They’d only stay for a night or two, and not everyone needed a separate room. For instance, Yu Xiang’an shared a twin room with the twins, while Wang Yongle and her assistant Hong Chun stayed in a suite. Song Dong and Zhou Si shared another room.

The twins enjoyed the bathtub, quickly ate some congee to settle their stomachs, and then fell asleep. Yu Xiang’an, also exhausted, followed suit.

The next morning, they headed to the restaurant for the buffet breakfast. The twins carefully compared the variety here to their mother’s hotel back home. While the selection here was slightly more extensive, the difference wasn’t huge. The taste, however, was noticeably better.

Their family’s hotel specialized in Chinese cuisine, while this place served Western food. It made sense that it excelled in that regard—if it didn’t, it wouldn’t justify the high prices.

While eating, they noticed something else: their mother took small portions of many dishes, clearly intending to sample everything. They followed her lead, filling their plates with a variety of items. Many others did the same—after all, buffets were all about freedom.

After breakfast, they split into two groups. Yu Xiang’an left with Song Dong and assistant Hong Chun, while the twins went sightseeing with Wang Yongle and Zhou Si.

The twins had planned their itinerary in advance. They were in Berlin, Germany, and headed straight to the Brandenburg Gate in the city center. Lin Yining’s language skills were better than Lin Yihong’s—she had no trouble with everyday German.

Each twin carried a camera around their neck, snapping photos of anything that caught their interest, brimming with excitement. Sometimes they took the bus, other times they walked. By noon, they had explored so much that Lin Yihong called Yu Xiang’an to ask if she’d be returning to the hotel for lunch.

Yu Xiang’an: “Go ahead and eat on your own. I won’t make it back. Just be careful—don’t wander into secluded areas.”

So the twins found a bustling café in the city center. Inside were couples, professionals, and others. Their waitress was a young woman with pinned-up golden hair and a smattering of freckles, giving her a cute appearance. She smiled at them and said, “Welcome! Are you here traveling?”

When they confirmed, she replied, “I hope you enjoy your time here. What would you like to order?”

Lin Yining seized the opportunity: “Pretty lady, what’s the house specialty? And are there any fun places nearby?”

…

Ye Jingjing ate alone in the cafeteria, feeling unaccustomed to the silence. She used to dine by herself, but after meeting Yining, they often ate together during breaks. Since winter vacation started, Yining had been coming to the pharmaceutical factory almost daily, and they’d share meals. But now, Yining was abroad.

Yining had promised to send her postcards and bring back gifts. *What would she bring?* Jingjing sighed, torn between hoping Yining had a great time and wishing she’d return soon so they could resume their routine of studying and eating together.

Her gloomy expression caught the eye of Ye Chen, who was actually leaving work on time for once. Seeing her father, Jingjing brightened—*Finally, he’s off at a normal hour!*

Then she spotted Yining’s father, Lin Chuanbai, exiting with other uncles. They all looked relaxed, even her dad was smiling—good news must have come. Jingjing couldn’t help but smile too.

Then she heard Lin Chuanbai ordering a long list of dishes at the counter. She was invited to join them, and though she wanted to refuse, she couldn’t. She quietly sat beside her father, listening intently to their conversation. Much of it went over her head, but she clenched her chopsticks, determined to study harder so she could understand in the future.

Lin Chuanbai noticed Jingjing’s timid demeanor—she only reached for the dishes right in front of her, while her father, sitting beside her, remained oblivious. Lin Chuanbai shook his head. *This father really has no awareness.*

He reached over and placed a honey-glazed chicken wing and a pan-fried fish on Jingjing’s plate—dishes she had glanced at earlier. Blushing, she whispered a thank-you, though he didn’t hear it. Still, he caught her lips moving and understood.

But this couldn’t continue. Lin Chuanbai looked at Ye Chen. Jingjing’s meekness might be manageable now, but if it persisted into adulthood, she’d be easily taken advantage of in society. *I’ll have to talk to him about it later.*

Someone brought up Yu Xiang’an’s trip and asked Lin Chuanbai, “Don’t you want to go abroad too?”

Lin Chuanbai: “No rush. There’ll be plenty of chances.”

He had little interest in foreign landscapes or cultures. He’d seen pictures and videos—he knew what they were like. Traveling was exhausting, and unless it was with family, he wasn’t keen. This time, the timing hadn’t worked out. Maybe next time they could vacation on an island together.

Every day, Lin Yining made sure to call Lin Chuanbai, Yu Qingshan, and others, accounting for the time difference. International calls were expensive, so she kept it brief—just a quick check-in. She also called Du Zhonglin and Lin Houpu.

Before they left, Lin Houpu had given them a stern lecture, warning them not to be dazzled by the outside world. If they ever considered emigrating, they should forget it.

That wasn’t a concern—none of them had such intentions. While the foreign world seemed glamorous, it wasn’t home, and it wasn’t all roses either. There were homeless people, illegal immigrants, robbers…

Ding Minxiu’s temper grew increasingly volatile. Unable to vent at work, she bottled it up and took it out on Zhao Qiangniang at home. She knew Zhao Qiangniang would endure it—she was her only daughter, after all.

Why was she so furious? She had sent anonymous whistleblower letters, yet nothing came of it. Was it because she hadn’t used her real name? Anonymous reports were supposed to be valid!

She’d been returning home frequently, lurking near Lin Jiqing’s place to gather information about his brother Lin Houpu. But everything remained quiet. *What’s going on? Are officials covering for each other?*

*This is outrageous! Aren’t they supposed to serve the people? Instead, they abuse their power for personal gain!* She’d expose their hypocrisy!

She wrote another letter, this time with harsher accusations. Soon after, she sent a third.

The recipients of these anonymous letters were exasperated. They had reviewed the allegations, but investigations revealed them to be baseless.

First, the distance—how could a heavy machinery factory director and a food industry entrepreneur possibly collude? Offering discounted steel materials? Their operations weren’t even connected.

The personnel involved weren’t from the same system, and those handling the matters had no ties to the promoted director.

Whistleblowing required evidence—you couldn’t convict someone based on speculation. This wasn’t the era of big-character posters anymore.

The repeated complaints suggested someone held a grudge—either against Lin Houpu or his successful daughter-in-law.

Lin Houpu later found out and inquired about the whistleblower, but the source was anonymous—likely written with the left hand to disguise handwriting. The envelopes and stationery were generic, sold at post offices. The only clue was the postmark—sent from the Special Economic Zone.

That narrowed it down: someone jealous of his daughter-in-law’s success, assuming there was foul play due to her family connections.

Without evidence, no amount of reporting would achieve anything.

…

Zhao Qiangniang bore the brunt of Ding Minxiu’s outbursts. The emotional weight crushed her, worsening her already poor health. She sought out an old traditional Chinese doctor for medicine, reeking of bitter herbs.

Her job—cleaning—wasn’t demanding, so she endured. But her supervisor warned her: if her health deteriorated further, she’d have to quit. No one wanted a sickly old woman on staff—it was bad for the factory’s image.

Zhao Qiangniang knew she was lucky to have this job. If she lost it, finding another would be impossible—plenty of younger workers were eager to take her place.

Zhou Changshou helped with her chores, knowing that if Zhao Qiangniang quit, their household would suffer. Her earnings supported her daughter and grandson—the Zhou family’s future.

They had to persevere.

During their trip, Yu Xiang’an and the group encountered a minor incident. After wrapping up business, they visited neighboring countries and were accosted by a group of tall, muscular Black men—clearly struggling locals who survived on petty theft.

Spotting what they thought were easy targets—a group with women and children—they moved in, confident in their strength.

But they’d picked the wrong fight.

Song Dong, Wang Yongle, and Zhou Si were trained fighters, while these robbers relied solely on their physical strength—they had no real combat skills to speak of.

They avoided overly remote areas. Seeing the situation unfold, some bystanders stopped by the roadside to watch, marveling at how effortlessly they overpowered their opponents. Others excitedly chased after them, asking, “Is this Chinese kung fu?!”

The twins also joined in, their eyes gleaming with excitement. This was the first time they had put their martial arts training to practical use.

Aside from this unexpected incident, they also faced discrimination.

White-skinned people discriminated against those with yellow skin, regardless of which country they came from—some simply because of their skin color, others because of their nationality, dismissing their homeland as backward, feudal, and ignorant.

Even Yu Xiangan, who had lived two lifetimes, couldn’t help but feel anger. She knew that in the future, more and more of their countrymen would travel abroad, contributing to foreign GDPs, yet such prejudice still persisted—and was even more rampant now.

She could only console herself, hoping their nation would grow stronger soon. Otherwise, the anger would be endless.

For the twins, this was their first experience of such disdain. Back home, they had never felt this way.

So this was how people from other countries saw them.

Their expressions darkened, and they lost all interest in continuing their trip. They asked Yu Xiangan if they could return home.

Instead of agreeing immediately, Yu Xiangan took them to visit a few universities.

Some universities were closed to outsiders, while others were open.

Moreover, foreign universities were quite different from theirs. Back home, admission was strict but graduation was lenient, whereas abroad, it was the opposite—failing academically meant not graduating at all. In their country, unless someone deliberately sabotaged themselves, failing to graduate was almost unheard of.

There, they met an overseas Chinese professor who, recognizing their accent, took them into the library.

“Education in our homeland still lags behind foreign countries,” the professor said. “When you take your college entrance exams, you could apply to universities abroad. You’d learn much more here.”

Yu Xiangan didn’t argue—it was the truth.

They still had a long way to go.

But the twins felt deeply upset.

Was their country really that inferior?

Hearing others belittle their homeland made them unhappy—only they were allowed to criticize it.

This trip abroad left them simmering with frustration after hearing so many dismissive remarks about their country.

Lin Yining asked, “Mom, we’ll catch up soon, right?”

Yu Xiangan stroked her ponytail. “I believe we won’t have to wait too long.”

Lin Yihong clenched his fists. “Definitely.”

He thought of the smug, disdainful look the man had given them upon learning where they were from, and his grip tightened.

—

Lin Guangbai didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

Yun Jing was the same, glancing between Lin Guangbai and Lin Chuanbai, at a loss for words.

When her brother-in-law showed up at their door, she thought something was wrong. Instead, he brought up the money he had lent them to buy a house—and then mentioned he had also loaned his elder brother tens of thousands more to buy stocks.

At that point, Yun Jing’s mind was flooded with questions.

How had she known nothing about this?!

But as she listened further, she began to understand. She knew how wildly stocks had surged lately.

Rumor had it that on trains headed for the special economic zones, every passenger carried large bags stuffed with ID cards.

Why?

Because it was profitable.

Now her brother-in-law was saying he had lent them money to invest, but fearing the market might crash, he had sold early. He hadn’t told them earlier because he was afraid they’d lose money—but now that the stocks had risen, he could finally speak up. And without ceremony, he had already deducted the original loan, leaving only the profits.

He even produced a dated IOU for Lin Guangbai to sign, proving the transaction had taken place.

This was for his protection.

Suddenly coming into such a large sum of money would raise eyebrows—if anyone investigated, they might suspect corruption.

Had they just gotten rich overnight?

Yun Jing clasped her hands tightly, watching Lin Guangbai, afraid he might refuse.

She would understand if he did—this was clearly his younger brother’s way of helping them out.

Lin Chuanbai understood too. “Big Brother, don’t stand on ceremony with me. I told Elder Sister as well—she bought some too. Back then, you had no spare cash after buying the house, so I took the liberty of lending you some to invest. You don’t have to worry about Qianjing anymore, but there’s still Yuejing, right? If you can, prepare a house for her too. The rental income from the two shops can support you—use it to help your grandchildren later. Wouldn’t that be great? And if you’re lucky enough to get a demolition payout, even better. If our roles were reversed, I know you’d do the same. Remember the watch you bought me? I’ve kept it safe all these years—it still works.”

He had received that watch shortly after transmigrating.

It had cost Lin Guangbai several months’ salary.

Now he was returning the favor.

Lin Guangbai’s voice was hoarse. “I owe you one, Brother.”

Lin Chuanbai smiled. “I have an ulterior motive, Big Brother. You’re a good official. Leave money matters to me—don’t risk your integrity for petty gains. It’s not worth it.”

Lin Guangbai chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

Seeing his agreement, Yun Jing also smiled, delighted.

In life, there were career, family, children, and wealth.

Now, they had all four.

They could pay off their loans, buy another property, and own three homes—one for each child and one for their retirement.

Though the state would provide pensions, having their own house made all the difference.

When Lin Houpu found out, he was speechless.

His second son had also called him back then, urging him to buy more. He had indeed invested a portion of his savings.

When the stocks were first issued, no one wanted them—assigned quotas forced even high-ranking officials like him to buy a year’s worth of salary.

It wasn’t a small sum, but compared to his son’s windfall, it was just a modest profit.

Li Yujiao, however, felt her heart twist in regret. She had known about it at the time but didn’t believe in such things, so she only invested two months’ salary—and even that felt excessive. If not for saving face, she wouldn’t have bought any. Now it felt like she had missed out on a goldmine.

She resented Lin Chuanbai. Even if she wasn’t his birth mother, Tiandong was still his half-brother—yet he had only looked out for his elder brother.

Lin Duzhong spoke fairly. “His elder brother was strapped for cash, and he had always taken care of him before. He didn’t lend money to his elder sister either—she and her husband had their own savings. He just advised them to buy some themselves.”

Li Yujiao said nothing, but inwardly scoffed.

Lin Yunling’s husband’s family was well-off, with overseas relatives. Financially, her own family was the poorest—living on fixed salaries.

Taking bribes was out of the question, so aside from decent food and drink, they had little else.

How could she not feel bitter?

Many people profited from this wave. Yu Xiangan had also alerted her relatives, and since she had a reputation for success, most trusted her advice.

Yu Xiangyan and Yu Xiangqing had invested nearly all their savings and now found themselves suddenly wealthy.

Tempted by the gains, Yu Xiangyan wanted to dive back in, but when he called Yu Xiangan for advice, she said, “Second Brother, I’ve withdrawn. The stock market is too unpredictable—this time was luck. It’s better to invest in tangible assets: shops, land, property. Or invest in businesses for dividends.”

Though initially eager to keep gambling, Yu Xiangyan followed her advice, allocating only a small portion to stocks and investing the rest in real estate.

A decade later, when property prices skyrocketed, he was endlessly grateful he had listened to his sister.

The stock market’s volatility could wipe out fortunes overnight, but houses and shops were solid assets.

If they didn’t live there, they could rent them out for steady income. And if they ever needed cash, selling one would solve the problem.

—

Time passed, winter giving way to spring. In the blink of an eye, the twins were in their final year of high school.

They had largely decided their paths.

Lin Yihong wanted to attend National Defense University and join the military. Lin Houpu was overjoyed.

Though he had entered politics, he had started in the army and always hoped one of his descendants would return to service. Yet none of his three sons or daughter had enlisted—only Wu Zheng’s son had joined later.

Now, at last, he had a grandson heading for the military.