Meng Wanyu had one redeeming quality: when it came to transferring money, she was incredibly prompt.
Not long after leaving the Meng residence, Lu Chengzhou received his payment for the day—plus an extra two hundred yuan tip.
Meng Wanyu: “Teacher Lu, remember to buy different ingredients tomorrow~”
Lu Chengzhou: “…”
Honestly, he didn’t want to go back.
But she was paying *way* too much.
Sure, he’d technically cleared his financial crisis—but who complains about too much money?
Thinking this, Lu Chengzhou felt a little dishonest with himself.
Even after walking this far, his mind kept circling back to Meng Wanyu in that pink catgirl outfit.
On anyone else, such a bizarre outfit would’ve looked utterly jarring.
But on *her*? Perfectly natural.
Not just natural—downright tantalizing.
No denying it: she’d hit his “XP” again.
…
That evening, Lu Chengzhou lay on his bed, reviewing the original plot as usual.
In the story, shortly after Lin Chen’s birthday, a crisis struck the Lin family.
Old Master Lin suffered a sudden relapse of his old illness and nearly died.
Opportunists seized the moment, snatching away most of the family’s business.
Hospitalized, he was saved by Jiang Aiyu—a renowned physician from the Jiang family.
Her sole condition? Marry Lin Chen.
Problem was, Jiang Aiyu didn’t care for Lin Chen. She was just a pawn in the Jiang family’s scheme to claim the Lin fortune.
Thanks to her, Lin Chen endured endless suffering.
His anguished romance with the heroine, Su Qiaoman, dragged on for over fifty chapters.
Truly stomach-churning.
“What can I actually *do* to change this?” Lu Chengzhou frowned.
He had zero medical skills.
Yet to unlock the system’s next reward, he *had* to alter this plotline.
If he couldn’t save Old Master Lin before Jiang Aiyu stepped in… the story would lock in place.
“Wait—if I expose the Jiang family’s ambition, would Old Master Lin still force the engagement?”
“But… how?”
Lu Chengzhou was stumped.
Timeline-wise, this incident was imminent.
A trace of anxiety tightened his chest.
No punishment awaited if he did nothing—but he had that perfectionist itch.
Skipping game levels never felt satisfying; it just felt *wrong*.
So he’d try. Find a way.
Lost in thought, he drifted asleep.
…
Meanwhile, the Meng sisters discussed one person: Jiang Heng.
“He’s visited Dad multiple times trying to buy that hundred-year-old ginseng,” the older sister said.
Meng Wanyu snorted.
The Jiangs were Yi City nobility—second only to the Lins. But in Jingzhou? Nobodies.
As Jiang family head, Jiang Heng often traveled to Jingzhou for herbs.
Naturally, he dealt with the Mengs—the city’s top herbal suppliers.
Why he insisted on buying *their* century-old ginseng, even offering gold and jade? Who knew.
Too bad ginseng was scarce lately. True century-old specimens? Nearly mythical.
Dad refused flatly.
But Jiang Heng wasn’t the real issue.
His daughter was: Jiang Aiyu.
“She’s beautiful,” the sister added. “Though… not the sharpest.”
Meng Wanyu chuckled. *Beautiful and smart? Rare.*
Then she saw Jiang Aiyu’s photo—and her smile froze.
She let out a sharp, disdainful snort.
“Sister, I *know* her.”
“You do?” The sister blinked in surprise.
Meng Wanyu nodded. “Remember when Jiang Heng stayed at our estate years ago?”
“Hmm… five or six years back?”
To win favor, Jiang Heng worked alongside servants—planting, weeding, smiling at everyone.
Dad kicked him out once he learned the real goal: securing rights to a rare herb.
At the Meng house, “playing the victim” was the most useless tactic.
“Jiang Heng stayed in the servants’ quarters. A little girl was locked in his room.”
“I saw her a few times—practicing calligraphy, copying medical texts.”
“I felt sorry for her. Used a spare key. Took her out: showed her the herb fields, bought cotton candy, wove her a flower crown…”
“Then she *stole* two rare seedlings and claimed *I* gave them to her! Dad scolded me fiercely!”
Meng Wanyu’s voice tightened. “How could I?! Only *three* existed—painstakingly bred by Dad’s team! Did I look reckless?!”
Years later, just recalling the girl’s tone and mannerisms left a sour taste in her gut.
That name was etched deep: Jiang Aiyu.
The sister sighed, shaking her head. “Absurd… but for a Jiang? Almost expected.”
Jiang Heng was ruthless with himself. His parenting creed? Profit above all.
“Hope I never meet her again,” Meng Wanyu muttered, rubbing her arms.
“Just thinking about her gives me the creeps.”
…
Days later, Jiang Aiyu stepped off the Jingzhou–Yi City train, suitcase in hand.
Petite, pale, she looked freshly recovered from illness.
The bulky case seemed enormous against her small frame.
Men charmed by her beauty offered help along the way.
She never said “thank you.”
Face utterly blank.
Their murmurs followed her:
“Pretty girl, zero manners?”
“Should’ve skipped helping.”
“Still worth it—she’s gorgeous.”
She ignored every word.
At the platform exit, Jiang Heng and his guards waited.
“Father.”
“You’re back! Excellent.” Jiang Heng beamed, patting her shoulder.
“Did you bring it?”
“Mm.” She handed him the case. “Inside.”
His smile widened. “Worthy of my daughter. Always reliable.”
