Many people are curious about how the wealthy live, but in reality, their lives aren’t all that different from everyone else’s—just with bigger houses, better decor, dedicated housekeepers to handle chores, and finer food, clothing, and daily necessities. Without other hobbies, their lives would be pretty much the same as the average person’s: three meals a day, eating, drinking, sleeping, and the usual routines.
Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an live in a small villa. Yu Qingshan occupies the first floor, the second floor is reserved for when the children visit, and the two of them live on the third floor. Aside from cleaning, the housekeeper isn’t allowed on the third floor. It’s not that there are confidential documents—Yu Xiang’an rarely brings such things home—but rather to minimize the chances of the housekeeper noticing anything unusual. They occasionally “disappear” here, and if caught in the act, it would be hard to explain. The housekeeper handles the household chores, but her attentiveness is questionable. To avoid complications, they simply reduce her access, citing “documents” as the reason, which she understands.
At the moment, Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an are inside their space. Yu Xiang’an stands under a pear tree, plucking a plump snow pear and bringing it to her nose for a whiff—its sweet fragrance is intoxicating. She picks another and walks over to Lin Chuanbai, who sits by the stove, where a pot of water is boiling on the gas burner.
The space is fully equipped with tools and appliances, all functional thanks to a diesel generator they brought in. With diesel, they have electricity, enabling them to use an oven, fridge, induction cooker, and more.
So, what’s the hot water for?
It’s for scalding a duck.
Spotting a plump duck, Yu Xiang’an suddenly decides to make roast duck. When she expresses the idea, Lin Chuanbai immediately sets off to kill the duck without a word—his efficiency is remarkable. Yu Xiang’an laughs at his swift action.
Now, the duck is prepped, waiting for the hot water to boil so they can remove its feathers. Ducks are tricky to handle, so they keep a few in the space. It’s been a while since Yu Xiang’an last slaughtered poultry herself, and her movements are a bit rusty. Together, they spend a fair amount of time cleaning the duck thoroughly.
Once cleaned, they layer on the marinade, hang the duck to dry, and plan to apply another coat tomorrow before roasting it.
With that done, the two head to the small hill where the spirit peach tree grows. Around its roots lies a circle of jade and gemstones. Yu Xiang’an picks one up and nods in satisfaction—it’s working. Though the process is slow, compared to the control group, the difference is already significant. If the original quality was mid-tier, it’s now high-tier. With more time, it might even reach premium grade.
So, whenever they have free time, they linger here. Subtle influences matter, and it’s just as good a place as any to pass the time. Nearby, there’s a table, a bed, and other furnishings.
Yu Xiang’an claims the bed, pulling out a book from the bedside and leisurely flipping through it. Lin Chuanbai sits on a chair, picking up the latest issue of *Nature*.
It’s quiet—but not entirely silent. The faint sounds of cattle and sheep can be heard in the distance. The atmosphere is serene and carefree.
When reading tires them out, they gaze down at the orchard, the pasture, the workshop, and the warehouse—a picturesque rural scene.
Lin Chuanbai muses, “Isn’t this what they call ‘leisurely seeing the southern mountains’?”
Yu Xiang’an inhales the peach’s fragrance and replies, “I suppose so. Any progress with your analysis?”
Lin Chuanbai shakes his head. “Not yet. It’s not that quick.”
His eyes light up as he speaks. “It’s incredible. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.”
Yu Xiang’an recalls the saying: *The more you know, the more you realize you don’t know.* She smiles. “Isn’t that what you love? Endless learning, never fully satisfied, always climbing higher.”
Just like her.
Humans are rarely content. Once one condition is met, they crave the next.
Initially, she dreamed of dominating the domestic culinary scene and expanding abroad. Now that she’s achieved it, is she satisfied?
No.
Along the way, new desires always emerge, reigniting her ambitions.
Yu Xiang’an checks her watch. “It’s getting late. Time to sleep.”
Staying up late harms the body. Unless necessary, they maintain a health-conscious routine.
Lin Chuanbai checks the time as well. “Let’s rest, then. We’ll refrigerate the duck tomorrow at noon.”
They prefer lighter meals in the morning, saving the roast duck for lunch. Yu Xiang’an agrees.
… Many things have changed, yet some remain the same.
They’ll walk together until the end of their lives.
The next afternoon, after enjoying the roast duck, Wang Yuyan arrives in her car, carrying a box of cherries.
She’s still on her “leveling up” journey. After six months at a seaside resort hotel, she’s now in the pharmaceutical company’s HR department.
“Grandma, a friend asked me for help, and I refused. But I don’t understand why. Do you know?” Wang Yuyan frowns.
Yu Xiang’an immediately guesses who she means. “Don’t lend a hand. You made the right call. It’s their family’s internal matter.”
Wang Yuyan: “???”
“Grandma, I’m talking about my college classmate Chen Lichen. Their family’s business is being targeted by foreign-controlled Zisheng Investments…”
Yu Xiang’an nods. “I know who you mean. There’s a backstory you might not be aware of.”
Wang Yuyan presses, “What backstory?”
“Liu Tao from Zisheng Investments is your classmate’s half-brother. Her father abandoned his first wife to be with her mother, and it was quite the scandal. This is revenge. If he succeeds, the Chen family will go bankrupt.”
Wang Yuyan is stunned. She doesn’t think her grandmother would lie, so it must be true.
She never would’ve guessed.
Though she’s not close to this classmate, she’s heard about how loving her parents are—how she’s their only daughter, the apple of their eye, doted on endlessly. Many envy her family situation.
Now, learning that her mother was the other woman who broke up a marriage, Wang Yuyan feels disgusted.
“I never would’ve imagined,” she murmurs, recalling meeting Chen Lichen’s parents and even envying them.
Now…
“Grandma, how did you know?”
Yu Xiang’an: “Many people know. It’s just that younger generations like you weren’t around when it happened, so no one brought it up.”
Wang Yuyan: “…”
How disheartening.
There aren’t many genuinely loving couples in their circles to begin with, and now this makes it even worse.
Wang Yuyan sighs. If not for her own grandparents’ loving example, she’d be completely disillusioned with romance.
“Grandma, men out there are too risky. I need to take my time. When Mom pressures me, you’ve got to back me up. I want to choose carefully—character matters most.”
Lin Chuanbai descends the stairs, and Wang Yuyan adds, “My standards aren’t high. Someone like Grandpa would be perfect.”
Lin Chuanbai chuckles. “Not like your dad?”
Wang Yuyan shakes her head seriously. “I prefer someone who can be there for me when I need them.”
Yu Xiang’an nods. “How’s the pharmaceutical company treating you?”
Wang Yuyan grins. “They’re loaded.”
The bonuses there are substantial—thanks to stellar performance.
Yu Xiang’an smiles. “And besides that?”
Wang Yuyan: “I’m looking forward to the next stop.”
Yu Xiang’an: “How about being a talent agent at an entertainment company?”
Wang Yuyan’s eyes widen. “Entertainment company! Talent agent!” It’s novel, but— “Agents have to network and secure resources for their artists, right?”
Yu Xiang’an: “Observe how others do it. You won’t be assigned an artist right away. Learn the ropes first.”
Yu Xiang’an suspects traditional industries don’t interest her much, so why not try something fresh?
Lin Chuanbai studies his granddaughter’s face—one that could easily debut as a star—and remarks, “The female artists might see you as competition.”
Wang Yuyan touches her face and laughs. “Well, I’m not about to ugly myself up.”
Wang Yuyan’s sudden arrival at New Star Entertainment is no secret to upper management. She’s the major shareholder’s protege.
The company has multiple shareholders. The largest bloc, led by the chairman, holds 35%, with allies pushing it past 50%. The second-largest shareholder is Yu Xiang’an, who rarely interferes in operations.
Now, out of the blue, her granddaughter is parachuted in—to debut? For fun? Or to meddle in management?
Wang Yuyan’s starting point here is the most complex yet, but the support she receives is also the greatest.
Other executives, aware of her background, proactively assist. Any questions she has are promptly answered.
Upper management isn’t monolithic. Most align with the chairman, but other factions exist—including Yu Xiang’an’s.
Wang Yuyan: “…”
Complicated.
But thrilling.
And with so many celebrities—so many beautiful people—gathered in one place, the visual feast is unparalleled.
The first time Wang Yuyan sees this concentration of glamour, she thinks her mother would’ve loved it. She adores beautiful faces.
But in reality, these beauties… are *calculating*.
The lower ranks don’t know, but seeing her mentored by a top agent—a meteoric rise compared to others—artists actively pitch themselves to her.
…
Lin Yining watches her daughter’s escapades with amusement. Surrounded by gorgeous people—what luck!
If only she could handle it.
Wang Yuyan: … Yep, that’s my mom.
As she gradually steps into the spotlight, the media reacts: “???”
Is New Star Entertainment wasting such talent?!
This face, this presence—*as a talent agent*?!
Because of this, female artists who resemble her refuse to work under her. Being outshone by your own agent? Too humiliating.
It’s like wearing the same outfit—whoever looks worse feels the sting.
So when Wang Yuyan finally takes on artists, her first clients are male.
The challenge is greater, but so is the appeal.
Later, when Yu Xiang’an asks if she wants to move elsewhere, Wang Yuyan declines.
…
Two years later, Wang Yuyan’s top artist, Yue Wu, stars in a blockbuster film and skyrockets to fame.
On a forum, a thread appears:
**#Let’s dissect a certain W-surname talent agent#**
*OP: The first time I saw her at the movie premiere, I thought she was Yue-jie’s junior colleague. My heart sank for Yue-jie—a rival?!*
*Then the press conference starts, and she steps back.*
*Me: ???*
*She’s Yue-jie’s agent?! A behind-the-scenes agent!*
*OP is shook by New Star’s standards. This sister? I stan!*
*Recently saw her at Yue-jie’s celebration. Standing together, one word comes to mind: Twin Moons!*
*Peerless duo! Perfect match! (Rambling)*
*Anyway, this stunning agent has piqued my curiosity. I dug deeper.*
*And OP is floored.*
*This agent’s only been in the industry two years!*
*Her roster includes Yue Wu and Wu Lin.*
*Yue-jie’s now A-list after this hit film. Wu Lin’s a rising idol actor.*
*Two years ago? One was a nobody, the other a D-lister going nowhere.*
*Now check their resources—way above their original pay grade.*
*How?*
*The company.*
*The agent.*
*OP bets on the agent.*
*Wu Lin was already at the company but got nothing until her.*
*Evidence:*
*1. Her car (personal, seven figures).*
*2. Her watch (brand speaks for itself, seven figures).*
*3. Her clothes (custom high-end domestic, price unknown).*
*Agent salary can’t cover this.*
*Next pic: another car (limited edition, 3M+).*
*Her wardrobe? Not ultra-luxury, but new outfits galore!*
*One Weibo post shows her and Yue-jie at Mingyue Huafu—prime real estate (100K+/sqm).*
*Renting? Doubt it. Company housing isn’t there.*
*Deeper dive: …*
*Floor 1: Popcorn ready.*
*Floor 2: Selling snacks here!*
*Floor 3: Grab a seat. Also curious.*
*Floor 4: Finally! Been waiting for this deep dive.*
*Floor 5: This agent’s a mystery. Eager for tea!*
6th Floor: This is definitely not an ordinary agent. Actually, I’ve suspected Wu Lin before—does he have such resources because of some shady dealings? I used to suspect others, but now I realize the truth was right under my nose. The agent is the sugar mommy!
7th Floor: Yue Wu just got lucky to star in a blockbuster movie.
8th Floor: Let’s not go off-topic. This thread is about exposing the agent.
9th Floor (OP): Attached are photos, photos, photos.
Three pictures were posted in a row, showing the agent entering high-end venues, as well as a photo of her laughing and chatting intimately with a well-known second-generation heir.
10th Floor: Could the agent be a rich second-generation herself, or is she the one being kept, and then she’s keeping someone else?
11th Floor: A nesting doll situation?
12th Floor: A passerby dropping some pics. I ran into her at a dinner and snapped these. The quality’s a bit grainy. The person sitting across from her is the CEO of our rival company—he only has a son, no daughter, and his son is single with no daughter-in-law.
As soon as these photos were posted, the replies immediately took a wild turn.
13th Floor: Is it what I’m thinking? That’s just disgusting.
14th Floor: If that’s the case, her goal definitely isn’t just to be an agent. A celebrity’s income is incomparable to an agent’s. With her natural advantages, she has the capital.
15th Floor: Her face might not even be natural—could be plastic surgery.
16th Floor: ……
More and more people joined the discussion, and more photos were uploaded. Someone even made a timeline chart listing the people she’s been associated with and what they represent.
Wang Yuyan’s photos weren’t hard to find. Given her looks and how ubiquitous smartphones are now, many people unconsciously captured her in their shots, even though she’s not an artist.
After a night of fermentation, the post blew up. Everyone was speculating about the identity of Yue Wu’s now-famous agent. Some were haters, while others were just curious.
As the hype grew, a big shot stepped in with a post:
**#Let’s Talk About That Agent#**
I searched her name and found reports about her. She was the second-place science student in her year, graduated from a top-two university with a double degree, then got her master’s there. Her mother is Lin Yining, a university professor and calligrapher. Most importantly, she has a grandmother we all know.
Who’s the agent’s grandmother?
Walk down the street, and you’ll see a Wuwei Restaurant—that’s her grandmother’s.
Now you know who I’m talking about. She’s a third-generation rich kid. Owning these cars is completely normal for her.
And this picture? A car worth over 30 million. It’s been seen before—her grandmother gifted it to her grandfather for his birthday. She probably just took it out for a spin.
The replies were perfectly aligned:
1st Floor: OP, you’re amazing! The agent is amazing!
2nd Floor: OP, you’re amazing! The agent is amazing!
3rd Floor: …
Someone noticed and asked Wang Yuyan if she wanted the post deleted.
Wang Yuyan: *”No need. There’s nothing here that can’t be seen.”*
She’d known from the start. Watching the situation unfold, she didn’t intervene—some of the photos were even leaked by her. Now that the hype was peaking, Wang Yuyan watched her Weibo followers skyrocket.
The most-liked new comment was:
*”Buying Oranges: Here to admire the rich beauty. Sis, do you need a human accessory? I can eat, drink, and act cute. [Dog emoji]”*
Wang Yuyan gave it a like.
She let this play out because she planned to soon establish her own independent studio. Without a rising star as backup, many things would become less convenient, so she needed to boost her visibility.
Originally, she hadn’t considered this, but after her artist blew up, some people started making snide remarks, trying to take credit. Of course, Wang Yuyan wouldn’t allow that. But in an environment with so many shareholders and power players, even with her grandmother’s backing, her influence was limited. After a few setbacks, she came up with this plan.
Some came to interview Wang Yuyan, while others tried to reach Yu Xiang’an.
For old friends, Yu Xiang’an agreed to a phone interview.
Reporter: *”What are your thoughts on your granddaughter working as an agent in the entertainment industry?”*
Yu Xiang’an countered: *”What do you want me to say? I believe she can do whatever she wants. She’s an adult—I respect her choices, and I hope you will too.”*
The media left disappointed, but not long after, Wang Yuyan dropped another bombshell: she’d broken away with her artist and started her own studio, with her grandmother lending her 100 million for working capital.
100 million?
Even if it was a loan, whether it’d be repaid was up to them, right?
The news instantly drew massive attention.
People in the entertainment industry rushed to cozy up, while outsiders were green with envy.
Top comment: *”I’m so jealous! Under the lemon tree, you and me, screaming!!”*
*”Entertainment Industry Insider: I can’t take it anymore. My dad lent me 20K when I started my business.”*
*”Melon Muncher: At least you got a loan. My family’s total assets don’t even hit 20K—forget about starting a business.”*
*”Breeze Blowing: 100 million… so many zeros! [Shocked] Is this the world of the rich? Lending 100 million to a granddaughter for her startup.”*
The internet was drowning in jealousy, but in reality, they’d signed a formal loan agreement—with interest.
The news was deliberately released to showcase their strength and attract more talent.
The buzz lasted for days before being overshadowed by another headline—this time about Yu Xiang’an.
They announced the development of a longevity-enhancing nutritional supplement and were recruiting qualified volunteers for trials.
Netizens: ???!!!
Longevity?!
That’s insane!
Netizen 1: *”Look at the description—it claims to extend life by about two years. But eating well and staying healthy already does that. Since lifespan can’t be measured precisely, how do we know it works? Feels like a pseudo-scientific claim.”*
Netizen 2 timidly countered: *”Did you know her husband’s grandfather lived to 110? And look at how youthful the couple looks. I don’t think this is just talk. Eager for updates.”*
Netizen 3: *”Same. They’re recruiting volunteers now—let’s see the results before judging if it’s a scam.”*
Netizen 4: *”Their meds have always been reliable. With no major leadership changes, why would they suddenly pivot? I don’t buy it. I support this—my grandpa’s signing up.”*
…
Yu Qingshan also got flooded with calls, asking if his daughter and son-in-law had ever given him any special health supplements.
Yu Qingshan thought carefully: *”No, we eat together normally. The only unusual thing is some health wines, but those are commercially available. Nothing else.”*
With no leads from Yu Qingshan, attention turned entirely to Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an.
Their breakthrough came when a spirit peach finally ripened.
Neither of them consumed it, saving it for later. Part of the peach was juiced for Yu Qingshan, while the rest became Lin Chuanbai’s research material. This time, he wasn’t disappointed—the mature peach contained a unique substance that, based on his analysis, could extend lifespan.
Longevity, in essence, revitalizes cell vitality and division cycles, achieving life extension.
Lin Chuanbai had already tested it on animals—human trials were next.
Other companies watched closely, especially eyeing the volunteers. Who wouldn’t want longevity?
Especially those in power—often elderly—with a deep fixation on extending their lives.
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