On the way to the Han residence—
Han Shen: “The CMO competition is no small deal. Anyone who makes the shortlist is among the top students in the country. How do you think you did?”
Parents always like asking this kind of question.
Jiang Fuyue: “Not bad.”
“That’s good. Your second and third uncles are both home today. They’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time—try not to be startled.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
“So confident?” Han Shen chuckled. His little niece really had a way with words.
That calm tone—she sounded more like an adult.
Jiang Fuyue: “…”
Forty minutes later, the Bentley pulled into the villa and parked in the underground garage.
Han Shen and Jiang Fuyue got out of the car.
Inside, Han Ke and Han Heng, who had already heard the engine, couldn’t sit still. They both bolted for the entrance.
Old Master Han, who had been pretending to read a newspaper, couldn’t hold back anymore. He tossed the paper aside and rushed to the door as well.
Han Ke: “…” What happened to your dignified, aloof air?
Han Heng: “…” Knew you were faking it. Who in their right mind reads the day before yesterday’s newspaper with such interest?
Old Master Han: “…” Move aside! I’m going to be first! CHARGE!
So the moment Jiang Fuyue walked through the door, she was met with three men lined up at the foyer like receptionists at a bathhouse entrance.
Uh…
Kind of gave off that vibe.
Han Shen facepalmed and turned away, not wanting to witness the spectacle.
The old man was completely unaware and greeted her with a huge, overly friendly smile—each wrinkle on his face seemingly acting on its own.
“Yueyue, you’re here! Don’t just stand at the door—come in, come in!”
Then he barked orders.
“Why are you just standing there, Heng? Go get Yueyue a new pair of slippers!”
“And Ke! Take her bag! A girl shouldn’t be carrying something that heavy!”
It was just a small, half-empty shoulder bag. Inside: two keys, 300 yuan, and a phone. Heavy, really?
But Han Ke and Han Heng actually listened.
Han Heng clumsily tore the plastic off a pair of slippers, yanked off the tags with great effort, and grinned as he placed them neatly in front of Jiang Fuyue.
“Here, Yueyue. Having trouble with your shoes? Lean on your uncle—I’ll be your support~”
Han Ke held out his hand: “Come, Yueyue. Give me the bag.”
Jiang Fuyue: “?”
Han Shen, exasperated: “Dad, stop playing commander. Old Two, move back. Old Three, get up—you’re scaring her.”
Only then did Jiang Fuyue change her shoes and put down her bag. She was then escorted into the living room, stiffly taking a seat on the sofa.
Old Master Han beamed, signaling the housekeeper to bring juice and snacks.
Han Ke kept sneaking glances at her.
Han Heng blinked dramatically, then plopped down opposite her, resting his chin on his hands and staring like he’d never seen a person before.
Jiang Fuyue gave a dry laugh and greeted each one, “Grandpa, Second Uncle, Third Uncle.”
Han Heng was thrilled: “Ah—Yueyue called me!”
Han Ke, more composed, said, “Yueyue called me too,” though his voice betrayed a bit of competitiveness.
Then Old Master Han delivered the finisher: “But she called me first.”
Han Shen: “…” Did I say anything?
“Old Three, have you noticed how much Yueyue looks like Little Ru? Especially the eyes—exactly the same!”
“You don’t say! She’s practically a copy-paste of Little Ru!”
“Wait, you have pictures, right? Go get them!”
Han Heng pouted: “No way! Those are my private collection, get it? For my eyes only!”
Han Ke scowled: “You only have more photos with her because you kept photobombing—annoying as h*ll!”
“Little Ru liked taking pictures with me! I have a good camera presence!”
“Bullsh*t! You just shoved your way into every photo. I always want to crop you out.”
“Then do it! Go ahead—crop me!”
“I’ll leak your fake relationships to the paparazzi!”
“I’ll pull your hair out until you go bald!”
Jiang Fuyue had barely stepped inside when the two uncles broke into a full-blown squabble.
Second Uncle Han Ke looked mature and classy—tailored suit, urban elite vibe. But once he opened his mouth… clown mode activated.
Not the calm, strategic fund manager the internet praised as “the seasoned helmsman,” “Golden Bull of Public Funds,” “Mr. Steady.”
Meanwhile, Third Uncle Han Heng’s image shattered even more thoroughly.
On camera, he was a flawless A-list actor—two decades in the industry, not a single bad photo from the press.
But right now?
Jiang Fuyue silently swallowed her words.
Blasphemous as it was, she had to admit: they were both a bit dumb.
“Ahem—” Grandpa cleared his throat. “Didn’t you guys prepare welcome gifts for Yueyue?”
Han Heng reacted first, running upstairs and then thundering back down with a life-sized Hello Kitty plushie—bigger than himself.
He shoved it into her arms. “Cute, right? So squishy? Makes you wanna snuggle it?!”
He then hugged it himself.
“Nice!”
Jiang Fuyue sat frozen, plushie’s lower half still on the floor, looking dazed.
Han Ke yanked Han Heng aside: “What are you doing?! You’ve stunned her! Make way—it’s my turn!”
Han Heng rolled his eyes dramatically.
Caught by Jiang Fuyue.
He grinned sheepishly, “Heh heh…” like a goofball.
She quickly averted her eyes, mildly traumatized.
Then—bam!—a stack of securities dropped in her lap.
Han Ke: “Yueyue, these are shares from twenty listed companies, plus a few real estate deeds. It’s not much, but take it for now—I’ll add more later.”
Jiang Fuyue: “?”
Old Master Han jumped in: “And here’s mine! This little trinket is a safety charm—wear it!”
One glance told her it was premium imperial jade. Exquisite carving. At auction, it’d fetch no less than eight figures.
“I…” She was about to decline when—
Han Shen handed over a small box. “This one’s from me.”
Jiang Fuyue: “Eldest Uncle, are you really joining in too?!”
“Open it.”
She opened the box—two car keys lay inside: one for a Maybach, one for a Ferrari.
“…”
Gift-giving: concluded.
Jiang Fuyue didn’t dare say no.
Imagine four men—one old, three younger—staring at you with longing, wounded, betrayed puppy eyes…
All she could do was clamp her mouth shut: Take it. Take it all.
Then—
Old Master Han: “Good girl.”
Han Ke: “Worthy of being my niece~”
Han Heng: “Ahh! My life is complete! I’m tweeting this and putting us on trending!”
Han Shen: “Seriously, you have to accept it.”
Jiang Fuyue: “…” I want to go home.
The old man then started fussing about dinner.
Han Shen looked around. “Where’s Little Ting?”
The housekeeper: “Young Master said he’s out playing soccer with friends. Won’t be home for dinner.”
Han Shen’s brows furrowed. “Unacceptable! Doesn’t he know Yueyue’s visiting?”
“I reminded him before he left—he said he knew, and still…”
Han Shen gritted his teeth. “That brat’s asking for it! Call him now. If he doesn’t come back, no allowance next month!”
“Yes, sir.” The housekeeper hurried off.
“What’s wrong, big bro?” Han Ke asked.
“Han Ting, that brat. Used to be obedient—now that he’s in high school, even a dog wouldn’t want him!”
“Oho, our Little Ting is giving you trouble?” Han Heng chimed in. “Didn’t think anyone could stump big bro.”
Han Shen just shook his head—parenting is suffering.
He glanced toward the window, where Jiang Fuyue played chess with Grandpa.
A sigh escaped his lips. “If only Han Ting could be as sensible and well-mannered as Yueyue, I’d die a happy man.”
“Dang, Little Ting must be trouble if you’re saying that.”
Han Heng giggled. “If I had a daughter like Yueyue, I’d wake up laughing every night.”
Han Ke rolled his eyes: “You want a daughter? Settle your own life first, you nearly-fifty-year-old bachelor.”
“H*ll—why bring up age?!”
“I refuse to talk to geriatric single men.”
Han Heng turned into an angry penguin, nearly jumping up. “As if I wanna talk to you—divorced old bachelor!”
Both of them: “F*k!”
Meanwhile…
Back at the chessboard—
Jiang Fuyue dropped the final piece and smiled, “You lost again.”
“Wait—what? I—how?” Grandpa stared at the board, dazed. “You took all my pieces again?!”
Jiang Fuyue: “How else do I win?” Perfectly reasonable.
Grandpa: “…”
Suddenly, he reached out and messed up the whole board. “Doesn’t count! I was careless! Let’s play again!”
Jiang Fuyue: “…”
Then—BARK! BARK BARK!
A black blur lunged at her.
Her gaze sharpened. Instead of dodging, she instinctively reached out—
And caught the Rottweiler by the head mid-pounce.
Its body dangled, limbs flailing in the air.
It barked furiously, drooling, growling, snarling—
Purebred Rottweiler. Ferocious.
Any other girl would’ve been terrified.
But unfortunately for the dog, it met Jiang Fuyue.
She held it still with one hand, completely unfazed.
Grandpa was stunned.
Han Shen and the uncles silently broke into a sweat.
The standoff lasted two minutes.
Then the Rottweiler gave a pathetic whimper, head tilting, body twitching.
“Stop! Let go—it’s dying!”
A teen boy dashed in, face furious, eyes burning with urgency.
Finally showed up.
Jiang Fuyue smirked and released the dog.
It collapsed, panting hard.
The boy ran over, comforting it frantically, stroking its fur.
Once assured it was okay, he glared up at Jiang Fuyue.
“Why the h*ll did you choke my dog?!”
“Because it tried to bite me,” she said flatly.
“It didn’t!”
“Oh? It pounced. I thought it was going to bite. Given that, choking it was the logical response. If it were you, what would you have done?”
Han Ting was momentarily speechless.
Then snapped: “You come into my house and choke my dog—have you no shame?!”
“I do. But this is also my house.”
“You—”
Old Master Han interrupted with glee, “Right! This is Yueyue’s home too! Han Ting, how are you speaking to your cousin? Apologize! Thank goodness Little Mang didn’t hurt her—otherwise I’d have skinned you!”
Han Ting was stunned.
Was this still the grandpa who used to dote on him endlessly?
“Blink twice if you’ve been kidnapped,” he muttered.
Old Master Han whacked him. “Watch your mouth! Apologize!”
“I won’t—she almost killed Little Mang! She should apologize!”
“Still arguing?!” Han Shen approached, face cold.
The boy ducked behind Han Ke. “Second Uncle, save me—Dad’s gonna hit me!”
“Don’t worry, I got you. He wouldn’t dare.”
Han Ting grinned smugly at Jiang Fuyue.
Brat!
But then Han Ke cleared his throat. “Sure, I’ll protect you—after you apologize.”
Han Ting: “?” You’re not the uncle I knew!
He turned to Han Heng for help.
Han Heng: “Ahem! Little Ting, there’s nothing wrong with apologizing. Shows maturity, right?”
Right, my *ss!
Suddenly, Han Ting realized—everyone had changed.
He used to be Grandpa’s “sweetheart,” Uncle’s “precious,” the center of the world.
Now? Invisible.
He caught Jiang Fuyue’s smirking eyes.
And it hit him—
It’s her. She’s the reason!
She nearly got his allowance taken, and now everyone was on her side.
Han Shen gave an ultimatum: “Apologize, or lose all your allowance for the next three months.”
Han Ting deflated.
He was just a rich kid begging for lunch money. What evil could he possibly harbor?
It was just allowance! He needed it!
“Fine! I’ll apologize!”
Han Shen: “Louder!”
“…Sorry!”
Jiang Fuyue, still seated upright and elegant, spoke calmly, “I accept. I’m a little hungry—can we eat now?”
“You’re hungry? Then let’s head to the dining room.”
“Okay.”
Han Ting: Fake!
Why not accept it the first time?! Made him say it again on purpose!
He glared daggers into her back, wishing his eyes were lasers.
Then—she turned around and caught his glare.
Before he could react, she moved her lips soundlessly.
He read them clearly: I did it on purpose.
D*mn—
So sneaky!
…
At dinner, the table overflowed with delicious dishes.
Most were Jiang Fuyue’s favorites.
Han Shen: “I asked around about what you like, so I had the cook prepare it all. See if it suits your taste.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
“My cooking’s not as good as your dad’s, but shouldn’t be too far off.” He placed a rib in her bowl.
Han Ting stared at his father’s gentle expression—something he hadn’t seen since elementary school.
Why not give him ribs too? He likes ribs!
Still his biological son or not?!
Spoil the niece, but deduct the son’s allowance? The audacity!
SLAM—
Han Ting dropped his chopsticks. “I’m not eating!”
And stormed out.
Han Heng got up, “Little Ting, come on, you only had a few bites—”
“Sit down!” Han Shen ordered coldly. “Let him go. No big deal if he doesn’t eat.”
Han Ke: “Bro, don’t be so harsh. He’s a teen. You push, he pushes back. Try respecting his pride sometimes.”
Han Shen: “He’s not a little girl. Strictness is what he needs. Otherwise, he’ll pierce the sky someday.”
…
In the garden, Han Ting crouched on the lawn, stroking the Rottweiler’s glossy fur.
“Little Mang, are you okay? Did she hurt you?”
The dog whimpered.
“There, there… I’ll get you a treat later.”
Woof!
“Talk about easy to bribe. Are you a glutton?”
Woof woof!
Just then, Han Ting sensed someone behind him—Jiang Fuyue.
“What do you want?!” He immediately shielded his dog.
“If you care so much about your dog, why’d you let it attack me?”
The boy froze.
“If you let it pounce, you’d better be prepared for it to get hurt—or even killed.”
“That’s the price of your recklessness.”
Han Ting: “I…”
“If it had died today, you would’ve been the culprit. Its life would’ve been the cost of your stupidity.”
Jiang Fuyue wasn’t bullying the dog—she was teaching the owner: thoughtless actions could harm your pet, or worse, get it killed.
