Chapter 111 (Extra)
The next day, Chu Qing and Xie Yunting came over.
They’d both moved to H City by now, shuttling back and forth between H City and their old hometown of C City without finding it troublesome.
As soon as Chu Qing arrived, An An’s emotional bar was instantly filled to the brim. He ran over, brimming with excitement, and called, “Grandma! Grandma, I missed you so much! It’s been forever since we last saw each other!”
Chi Wang, standing behind them, thought: …
Come on, you only saw her two weeks ago, kid. Isn’t that a bit dramatic?
But Chu Qing totally fell for it. Look at that little face, flushing red as soon as he laid eyes on her—he must be thrilled, this attached to her. Chu Qing was so happy she practically forgot to breathe. She wanted to pick him up, but found she couldn’t manage to lift him right away. Immediately, Xie Yunting stepped in, hoisting An An up effortlessly and seating him on his arm.
An An fluidly wrapped his arms around Xie Yunting’s neck, rubbing his cheek against his grandpa’s, then chirped in that bright, childlike voice: “Grandpa, I missed you, too.”
Xie Yunting’s usually cool expression collapsed in an instant, the corners of his mouth curving upward so hard he couldn’t hide it.
Chu Qing caught sight of his face and, feeling slightly disgruntled, muttered, “Hmph, my back’s been killing me lately.”
Otherwise, why would he get to be the one doing the lifting?
Xie Yunting said, “I told you to quit playing mahjong all day, but you never listen.”
Chu Qing ignored him and, still smiling, pinched An An’s chubby cheeks. “Sweet An An, it’s only been a few days—how have you gotten so thin? Have you been eating properly?”
An An nodded dramatically, looking troubled. “I lose my appetite when Grandma’s not here.”
But then he brightened at once, sweet lips declaring, “Now that Grandma’s come to visit, I’ll definitely eat an extra bowl of rice at lunch.”
That made Chu Qing happy, though she put on a show of scolding, “That won’t do, you still have to eat even if I’m not here. Didn’t Daddy eat with you? How could you have no appetite?”
An An cast a sidelong glance at Chi Wang and Xie Siheng, speaking in a well-behaved tone: “But if Grandma is here, my appetite is so much better. Meals are meant to be eaten with the whole family; it’s no fun otherwise. Grandpa, am I right?”
Xie Yunting’s grin grew so wide it practically went off the charts. “An An’s right. Honey, why don’t we just move in here? Living together might be a good idea.”
Chu Qing: “Oh, no, that won’t do.”
Chi Wang was still young—he and Xie Siheng had only been officially married for two years. They needed their own space. It was already tricky enough juggling An An in the picture without two more people moving in. Chu Qing might not fully understand Xie Siheng, but she understood men.
If not for the fact that An An was inseparable from Chi Wang and Xie Siheng, she would’ve liked to keep him with her for a couple of years, giving the two of them a proper chance at living a simple two-person life.
Whenever Chu Qing and Xie Yunting came over, they usually stayed a day or two. During that time, An An wouldn’t insist on sleeping with Chi Wang and Xie Siheng; he’d be busy dividing his attention between Chu Qing and Xie Yunting, showering them both with affection.
Sometimes Chi Wang felt sorry for how much effort An An put into “balancing the scales,” but then he’d remember that kids inevitably pick up on their parents’ habits—after all, Chi Wang himself was a champion water-carrier.
Chi Wang: …
Well, that solves that mystery.
An An was happily chatting away with Chu Qing, and once in the living room, he showed off the giant rhinoceros beetle he’d caught at his uncle’s place. Then he brought out more of his prized possessions: one box filled with stones he’d collected outside and another containing leaf specimens he had gathered and preserved.
Sometimes Xie Yunting thought his grandson’s hobbies were rather unique.
An An selected the prettiest stone in the box (in his opinion) and handed it to Chu Qing. “Grandma, here—the best-looking one is for you.”
Chu Qing accepted it with a smile.
Standing to one side, Xie Yunting asked, “What about Grandpa? Do I get one?”
An An dug out another stone and said, “Yes, Grandpa gets one, too—this is yours.”
They were indeed pretty stones, with distinct patterns, though it was hard to say if they had any real value. He’d gathered them one by one from the mountains and rivers.
Xie Yunting accepted his stone gladly.
Xie Siheng rarely saw Xie Yunting look so kind and gentle. Now, it happened often—because of An An.
He had to admit, An An was extremely likable. Because he was still so young, he might be even more endearing than Chi Wang was in his day.
Everyone was getting along great, so Chi Wang slipped away to his study to deal with some work.
Back in his senior year of college, Chi Wang had thought about pursuing grad school to raise his academic credentials but ultimately decided it wasn’t that important. Real-world experience mattered more. So he stuck to his initial plan: interning at Xiao Fu’s company.
His internship role was, naturally, as a secretary—Xiao Fu taught him the ropes of running a company, hands-on.
But once Chi Wang learned the processes, he felt their ideals didn’t line up. Plus, the company culture wasn’t a good fit. So, after just two months, he left.
Afterward, he decided to start a business of his own. He initially aimed at the food and beverage industry—it wasn’t too costly to get started, and it was easier to learn the ropes. Over the years, he’d heard too many horror stories of trust-fund kids failing in business, including some truly wild tales of losing forty or fifty million in a single startup, bankrupting the entire family.
So he was very cautious. Sure, he had access to funds, but technically, that money wasn’t really his; it belonged to Xie Siheng, Xiao Fu, and Chu Qing & Xie Yunting.
Chi Wang barely spent that money because it didn’t come from his own hands. It felt somewhat unreal to him. Of course, he would use it when necessary, but he didn’t believe in wasting money he hadn’t earned himself.
He opened a hotel first. H City was saturated with upscale hotels—many owned by the Xie family—so Chi Wang avoided direct competition and opened his in a neighboring city. He personally oversaw a great many tasks. With backing from both the Xie and Xiao families, it got off the ground easily. He went on to open several more branches. Though it didn’t grow into a national chain, it did expand to over a dozen locations, generating a solid profit so far.
Not that it was some monstrous enterprise, but it was nothing to sneeze at either.
Afterward, Chi Wang tried his hand at taking over a vacation resort. That was a bit of a risk; foot traffic can be unpredictable. Still, he did his due diligence, crafted a proposal that even Xie Siheng found solid, and took the leap. A part of him, though, was still counting on luck.
Unfortunately, the resort ran at a loss for six straight months after opening. Chi Wang couldn’t take it anymore and turned it over to Xie Siheng. The month after the handover, the place started turning a profit.
Chi Wang: …
Seriously? My luck is just rotten through and through.
After that, Chi Wang avoided the tourism sector. Looking back, the hotel business had succeeded partly because lodging was a staple need, and he’d hired some truly excellent chefs—several of them the parents of his friends—whose cooking was universally praised, drawing plenty of customers.
For his third startup attempt, Chi Wang grew even more careful. He ultimately decided on the gaming industry and tech. People always want games; they’re in constant demand. And tech is essential, less prone to the luck factor.
Of course, venturing into those fields required significant R&D investment. That was when Chi Wang dropped his pride—he consulted others, leveraged any resources he could muster, asked for help whenever needed. He never hesitated.
And sure enough, he made it work. Now his best-performing venture is his gaming company, pulling in hundreds of millions of revenue each year.
Thanks to that, he could finally stand tall!
He couldn’t compare with the scale of Xie Siheng’s enterprises or his brother Xiao Fu’s, but at least this was wholly his own. A baby business he’d raised from the ground up! How could he not feel proud?
What’s more, Chi Wang was a benevolent boss who staunchly refused to make employees work overtime. He didn’t need the extra profit that comes from overtime hours. Back in his days of odd jobs, he rarely encountered such conscientious bosses, so he decided to become one himself—hopefully making a small positive change in the world. (But if someone slacked off too much or didn’t do their job, he also wouldn’t keep them around.)
Consequently, his company offered great benefits, sparking employees’ enthusiasm for work. Though it was still a young company, it had impressive drive and energy.
After working for a short while in his study, Chi Wang was cornered by Xie Siheng, who asked him, “It’s the weekend—can’t you take a break?”
Chi Wang stretched and declared with righteous conviction, “I can, but I’m so young—how can I justify resting?”
Xie Siheng: “…”
He gazed at Chi Wang, eyes calm, voice low. “Sometimes, I need your company, too.”
Chi Wang: “…”
Smiling, Chi Wang shut his laptop, stood up, hooked his arm around Xie Siheng’s neck, and said, “Okay then, I’ll keep you company.”
These days, ironically, Xie Siheng had less on his plate than Chi Wang. He was quite idle, even picking An An up from kindergarten every day. Sometimes, if Chi Wang was too busy, he’d even help him with minor tasks—just proof of how much spare time he had.
In broad daylight, heading off to the bedroom together wasn’t exactly appropriate, so they sat around chatting, mostly about An An’s upcoming enrollment in elementary school.
Nowadays, schools have all kinds of requirements, including that kids must be at least six years old to start first grade. None of that early admission or skipping grades like in Chi Wang’s day (except for genuine prodigies).
Chi Wang himself had breezed through primary and junior high, skipping one grade each, which got him into college at seventeen.
An An was five this year, so he still had a year of kindergarten to go before elementary school. He was already outgrowing the final year of kindergarten, and Chi Wang hoped first grade would be a better fit.
Because, for one, An An’s mind was more advanced than most kids his age. He was sweet-talking, quick-thinking, and full of ideas. He couldn’t really connect with the other kids at kindergarten. Sure, he had plenty of contacts in his phone—he’d even added a bunch of classmates on WeChat. But Chi Wang once peeked at An An’s account and saw dozens of unread messages. Turns out none of them had been answered. Boys, girls—didn’t matter; he’d left them all on read (or rather, unread).
Chi Wang shuddered at the thought of what kind of icy heart lay beneath that sweet, lively exterior. There was a particularly pretty girl in his class. Even Chi Wang found her adorable. She had sent An An loads of messages, and he’d ignored them all.
Coldhearted young master.jpg
Chi Wang gently probed: “Baby, do you have a lot of friends?”
An An blinked his lovely big eyes. “Yes, I have lots.”
Chi Wang asked, “Then why don’t you chat with them? We’re not short on phone bills, you don’t have to save us money!”
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An An answered frankly and decisively: “No thanks. Anything we need to say, we can talk about at school. After school is my personal time. I don’t chat with them then, and anyway, I rarely look at my phone.”
Chi Wang: “…”
What, do you treat school like a job?
Chi Wang pressed on, “But if they send you so many messages and you never respond, won’t that make them sad?”
An An said, “It’s fine. If I don’t reply to anyone, it’s as if I replied to everyone equally. Once they realize I’m not responding to anybody, none of them will be upset.”
Chi Wang: “…”
Behold the arrival of the God of Love (lol)… and the God of Equal Attention (lol).
