Jiang Yimian was beaten so badly that he scurried away like a rat, still desperately trying to justify himself. “You’ve already changed your Weibo username, so why haven’t you accepted reality yet? ‘Zhaocai Jinbao’ is such a great name—way better than ‘Ran and Yimian’! Our great-grandfather gave you a lucky name. If I were you, I’d be grateful… Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! I’ll shut up!”
The real “Ran” had just stopped hitting him, but upon hearing this, he couldn’t resist kicking him twice more.
Su Weisheng casually pulled the beaten Jiang Yimian aside and scolded unhurriedly, “Why are you hitting him? Jinbao isn’t wrong. Your generation’s names were all unlucky, which messed up the feng shui. Otherwise, would our family be this poor?”
Su Ran’s face darkened from sheer outrage at this absurd logic. He furiously retorted, “Everyone knows that ancestral grave feng shui affects the descendants’ fortune. How did it become the descendants’ names affecting the ancestors’ luck in our family? Besides, after you named your son ‘Laijin’, he didn’t become rich either! He still ended up dragging several generations of us into this tomb-robbing, mooching lifestyle!”
Their family’s tradition of looting tombs to sustain themselves had started with Su Laijin’s generation. Because of this, Su Ran absolutely refused to believe in this “renaming theory”. He also felt that his counterargument was flawless—airtight, impossible to refute.
Feeling triumphant, he smugly looked at Su Weisheng, certain that the old man would have nothing to say.
To his surprise, Su Weisheng gave him a strange look as if wondering where his confidence even came from. Then, he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world: “Descendants’ names affect the ancestors’ fortune. I renamed my son so that I could get rich, not for him to get rich. What’s the problem?”
“If he wanted to be rich, he could’ve renamed his own son with a lucky name. But he didn’t, so that’s why your generation has lived so miserably and pathetically.”
Su Ran: “…What the f*ck?”
“Great-grandfather, how do you manage to say this with such confidence?” Su Ran was in utter disbelief. Worse still, he felt like he was actually starting to be convinced.
He glanced at Jiang Yimian, that spineless opportunist, who was now staring at his phone with eyes shining, furiously typing away. Whatever he was doing, it was definitely related to this conversation.
At that moment, Su Ran was genuinely tempted. After a brief hesitation, he cautiously asked, “So if I want good fortune, does that mean I have to give my child a lucky name?”
“Do you have a child? Do you even have a chance of having descendants in the future?” Su Weisheng mercilessly delivered a soul-crushing interrogation. “Aren’t you still struggling with your tribulations? Thinking about descendants now is a bit premature, isn’t it?”
Su Ran was utterly wrecked, his face contorting into a mask of pure agony.
Meanwhile, Jiang Yimian eagerly munched on the metaphorical popcorn. He didn’t know much about Great-grandfather—Su Ran had only ever mentioned that he was incredibly senior and a master of the mystical arts. But from the sound of it, this old man might actually be a hundred-year-old legend. That thought alone reassured him even more.
Excited, he suddenly chimed in, “Great-grandfather! I don’t have a kid either, but is it too late for me to adopt a son and rename him? Would it still work? I don’t ask for much—I just want to produce a hit movie or drama!”
Seeing Jiang Jinbao’s eager expression, Su Weisheng nodded gently and said, “If it’s a child from your biological siblings’ family, and you formally add them to your family register, then of course, it will work.”
Jiang Yimian’s eyes lit up. “Awesome! I have a younger brother!”
Su Ran looked on with envy. How nice… Having a younger brother to take advantage of must feel amazing. Unlike him—his branch of the Su family had always been a single-line inheritance, generation after generation. No matter how many children were born, only one would survive in the end. And now, in his generation, things were even worse—the bloodline was on the verge of extinction. Forget about scamming future descendants or siblings; even his own life was hanging by a thread.
Meanwhile, Jiang Yimian was already overjoyed, preparing to contact his unlucky younger brother to discuss the legal transfer of a child for renaming.
But then, Su Weisheng casually added, “Normally, renaming a descendant would work. But in your case, it won’t.”
Jiang Yimian: “……???” His smile froze.
Clutching his head in despair, he looked as if the sky had just collapsed. “Why?! Why won’t it work for me?!”
“Because your birth chart is Yin-aligned. Not only do you easily attract ghosts, but you also bring financial misfortune to others. Any businessman who collaborates with you suffers losses—at best, they lose money; at worst, they go bankrupt. That’s why every project you’re involved in flops. Anyone who works with you is doomed.”
As Su Weisheng spoke, he shot a glance at his great-grandson. “Most people work with you once and never again. The only one stubborn enough to keep trying is Su Zhaocai. If you two collaborate one more time, you might as well start begging on the streets together.”
Great-grandson: “……” Ah. Ah. Ah.
Jiang Yimian’s face twisted in horror. He had never imagined that the real reason behind all his failed adaptations and screenwriting disasters was… himself. But he still refused to give up and weakly protested, “If I really jinx my business partners, then wouldn’t I also jinx my readers? How come my novels still become bestsellers? My readers are totally fine!”
Su Ran blurted out, “Didn’t you switch to three different novel platforms? Don’t tell me the first two went out of business because of you?!”
Jiang Yimian’s face went blank. “…That’s even possible? Then why has my current platform lasted so long?”
Su Weisheng casually checked the website name on his phone. “Yueshu Literature? Same platform as «The Rise of the Cannon Fodder Comparison Group», the one selling film rights.”
“Yeah, yeah! My book Haunted Soul is also in talks for a film adaptation. Three companies are interested, but we haven’t settled on the price or conditions yet.”
Su Weisheng evaluated the situation. “The owner of that platform has strong life energy and good fortune. But the company is about to change hands, so «The Rise of the Cannon Fodder Comparison Group’s» adaptation rights will probably fall through. If you don’t hurry up and sign your contract, yours will be stuck, too.”
Holy sh*t—
If this were true, that would mean two out of the three predictions Great-grandfather made online were about to come true. Just from a few scattered pieces of information, he could predict the fate of an individual, a group of people, or even an entire platform. This level of mystical prowess was something even Jiang Yimian’s uncle couldn’t achieve.
He had always known Great-grandfather was formidable, but witnessing his ability to foresee the future firsthand only deepened his awe.
Feeling a little anxious, he asked, “Then what should I do now? Great-grandfather, do I still have a chance to produce a hit drama, or should I just retire early, live off my savings, and stop ruining other people’s lives?”
If he really had this kind of jinxed constitution and still insisted on forcing things, wouldn’t that make him an absolute menace? The thought weighed heavily on him.
“Which three companies are interested in buying your adaptation rights? Do you have any documents? Show them to me.” Su Weisheng remained unhurried.
Seeing that there was still hope, Jiang Yimian quickly pulled out his phone, found the details of the three companies, and respectfully handed them over to his great-grandfather. As he did, he explained the differences between them:
“Great-grandfather, look—this first one is offering the most money, but they refuse to let me be the screenwriter because they want to butcher my script and promote the second female lead to the main heroine.
“The second one has the best industry reputation, but they also won’t let me be the screenwriter. They’re buying the story just to boost their top male actor.
“And this last one… well, they’re the worst. They say they’ll let me be the screenwriter, but they’re offering the least money and even want to pay me in installments. No professionalism whatsoever…”
Su Weisheng tapped on the third company’s name and said, “Sell it to them.”
“Eh??” Jiang Yimian was stunned. He double-checked, but sure enough, Great-grandfather had chosen the worst one. “Why? Is it because their boss also has a strong fate and won’t be affected by my bad luck?”
Su Weisheng shook his head. “No, it’s because their boss is already unlucky beyond saving. He’s the type who will never have any financial luck in this lifetime. If you two jinx each other, extremes will reverse. That’s your only shot at making a hit drama.”
Jiang Yimian: “…That’s… even possible?”
Su Weisheng glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Seeing his face full of doubt, he didn’t bother to persuade him. Instead, he just handed the phone back. “Believe it or not, this is your only chance.”
“I believe! If Great-grandfather says so, then I believe!” Jiang Yimian, true to his survival instincts, immediately switched gears. Not only had he once shamelessly changed his name to Jiang Jinbao on the spot, but now he also had complete faith in Su Weisheng’s words. Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and called the platform, finalizing the deal with the last company.
After the call, he turned to Su Weisheng and bowed deeply. “Great-grandfather, words can’t express my gratitude! Let me just kowtow to you right now!”
“That won’t be necessary. Since I’ve accepted your money, it’s only right that I give you a divination. Now, we’re even.” Su Weisheng waved his hand, feeling at ease with the 200,000 yuan offering in his possession.
Jiang Yimian, however, took advantage of the situation and shamelessly insisted, “But I’m your grandson, Jinbao! How could things ever be ‘even’ between us? Great-grandfather, you are my real, flesh-and-blood ancestor!”
Hearing the name “Jinbao” made Su Ran’s head throb. He gritted his teeth and warned, “You should really stop while you’re ahead.”
Sensing that he’d pushed enough, Jiang Yimian wisely changed the subject. He pulled a brocade box from his pocket and respectfully placed it on Su Weisheng’s desk. “This is a gift from my uncle. It’s not particularly expensive, but he carefully selected it as part of his collection. Please accept it.”
He was smart enough to understand the significance of the gift and made sure not to claim credit for it. Instead, he made it clear that it came from his uncle, not himself.
Worried that his great-grandfather might refuse, he even emphasized that the gift wasn’t too valuable.
But Jiang Yimian was clearly overthinking it. Su Weisheng was not the type to be modest, especially when he believed he deserved something. Without hesitation, he took the brocade box and, with great interest, opened it for a look. His movements suddenly paused.
Inside was a bracelet of amazonite beads, smooth and translucent, shimmering with a deep blue-green glow. As his fingers brushed over the beads, one of them seemed to respond to his touch—suddenly, a fine crack appeared.
Jiang Yimian let out a startled cry, instinctively wanting to explain that he had no idea the bracelet was damaged. But in the next second, he saw something even more shocking—within the crack, a faint blood-red mark emerged, vivid and eerie, as if blooming from within the stone itself.
A suffocating sense of unease coiled around the two younger men, making it hard for them to breathe.
Su Weisheng swiftly grasped the bracelet, extinguishing the strange aura it emitted. Then, in a calm yet indifferent tone, he turned to the two and said, “I like this bracelet. Help me ask your uncle where he got it.”
“Oh… okay.” They wanted to say more, but seeing that their great-grandfather wasn’t in the mood to discuss it further, they wisely chose to retreat.
The moment they shut the door behind them, both let out a synchronized sigh of relief.
“Well, it looks like Great-grandfather is satisfied with the gift. That puts me at ease,” Jiang Yimian said, quickly returning to his usual carefree self. He patted his good buddy’s shoulder and grinned. “If my luck really turns around this time, don’t worry, Zhaocai—I’ll never forget you.”
Su Ran’s face darkened. He smacked Jiang Yimian on the back of the head. “Call me ‘Zhaocai’ again, and I’ll kill you. Also, go focus on your work. Stop coming over just to cause trouble.”
Good grief, he had practically led a thief into the house. Seeing Jiang Yimian enthusiastically playing the role of an eager bootlicker in front of Su Weisheng made Su Ran indescribably irritated. One was already bad enough, and now there were two of them competing to be Su Weisheng’s lackey?
“Ew—why do you sound jealous?” Jiang Yimian teased, grinning slyly. “Come on, we’ve been through thick and thin together! Your great-grandfather is my great-grandfather, too! Back then, I only encouraged you to run away from your debts because I didn’t understand our Great-grandfather’s true abilities. Now, it’s different. From now on, Zhaocai and Jinbao are a team! We’ll make money together to support Great-grandfather!”
“My money is your money. Our money is Great-grandfather’s money. Wouldn’t it be great if we paid off the debt together? Don’t worry, I promise I won’t secretly meet with Great-grandfather behind your back. Good brothers never betray each other for life!” Jiang Yimian declared with utmost sincerity.
Su Ran gave him a skeptical look. “Really? You’ll help me pay off the debt, won’t meet with Great-grandfather behind my back, and won’t stab me in the back?”
“Of course!” Jiang Yimian glanced at his phone. “I gotta go. My appointment’s coming up. I’ll see you next time.”
“Mm.” Su Ran responded casually. As he walked him to the door, he asked offhandedly, “What appointment? Signing the contract?”
“Nope. I’m heading to the police station to change my name. Next time I see Great-grandfather, I’ll officially be Jiang Jinbao—”
Before he could finish, he took off at full speed.
Behind him, Su Ran nearly lost his mind. “JIANG YIMIAN, YOU BACKSTABBING LITTLE— I’M GONNA KILL YOU AHHHHHHH!!”
The door slammed shut, sealing his furious screams outside.
Inside the room, Su Weisheng lowered his gaze slightly, absentmindedly playing with the bracelet in his hands. His fingertips brushed over the faint crack. In an instant, the blood-red streak spread like something alive, twining up his fingers with an eerie, fluid motion.
A chilling mist coiled around him, carrying an unsettling presence. In the hazy air, a vague figure slowly materialized. He knelt beside Su Weisheng, his cheek intimately pressed against Su Weisheng’s leg. His long, wavy hair obscured his face, but his voice—low, smooth, and laced with a sinister undertone—whispered, “My high priest, it has been too long.”
Su Weisheng’s fingers trembled slightly. He reached out, brushing aside the strands of hair covering the man’s face, revealing an achingly familiar yet breathtaking visage.
Those snake-like golden slit pupils locked onto him with an unrelenting gaze, sending a shiver down his spine.
Su Weisheng sighed softly. “So, just a lingering soul… Your Majesty, your resentment is so heavy. Have you not reincarnated?”
The man chuckled darkly. “Shengsheng, you liar. I knew you wouldn’t die that easily.” As he spoke, his lips brushed against Su Weisheng’s fingertip—then bit down in quiet punishment.
Su Weisheng only felt a sharp pain on his fingertip. He hissed and quickly withdrew his hand, only to see the man curl his lips around a droplet of fresh blood, savoring it as if indulging in a delicacy. In an instant, the once-transparent remnant soul gained a hint of substance, and a trace of bewitching color appeared on the man’s pale cheeks.
Damn it, this guy was truly sinister—actually using his blood to nourish himself.
Annoyed, Su Weisheng reached out to grab him.
But the man drifted behind him, making no attempt to flee. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Su Weisheng’s shoulders and whispered in his ear with malicious intimacy, “Shengsheng, I’m just a mere remnant soul. It doesn’t matter if you shatter me. But shouldn’t you be worrying about something else? You should be wondering—where is the main soul? Could it be hiding somewhere, watching you even now, waiting for the day it forces you to repay your karmic debts?”
He chuckled softly, a satisfied sound of long-cherished wishes fulfilled. As if just laying eyes on the High Priest and taking a bite of his blood was already enough for him. Without Su Weisheng lifting a hand, the remnant soul had already returned on its own to the prayer beads.
The cracks vanished, and the aquamarine tianhe stone regained its luminous blue glow.
Su Weisheng remained silent, furrowing his brows as he stared at the string of beads in his hand for a long time.
He had noticed it the moment Jiang Yimian brought it to him—this was an item once carried by the Emperor of Rui at all times. More precisely, it was a gift Su Weisheng had personally given the monarch to celebrate his ascension to the throne. From that day on, the man had never let it leave his side. And now, after countless twists and turns, it had found its way back to him.
Hundreds of years had passed, yet that man still hadn’t given up.
Su Weisheng knew the remnant soul had deliberately provoked him, yet he couldn’t stop his thoughts from spiraling. Where was the main soul? With his level of cunning, it was highly possible he was lurking nearby—perhaps even among the people at his side. But then again, maybe he wasn’t close at all and was merely using these words to sow doubt in Su Weisheng’s heart, making him suspicious of those around him.
No matter how he thought about it, it just felt unlucky.
Su Weisheng toyed with the prayer beads, stood up, and paced a little. After a brief moment of thought, he decided to disgust the other party in return—he couldn’t lose this round.
The door creaked open, and he waved at Su Ran, who had just come upstairs. “Great-grandson, go buy a wooden fish… No, actually, just get a new phone or tablet. The cheapest one will do.”
Su Ran was confused. “Huh…?”
Completely baffled, he went out and bought a basic smartphone, then brought it back to his great-grandfather.
Then, he watched as Su Weisheng opened the study door, cleared out an entire bookshelf, and carefully placed the amazonite prayer beads that Jiang Yimian had given him onto the empty shelf. Finally, he downloaded a wooden fish app on the phone.
The phone was placed right beside the beads. Soon, the app started playing a continuous, automated knocking sound: “Dong, dong, dong, dong, dong—”
The rhythmic beat echoed endlessly.
Su Ran stared in shock. “Great-grandpa… what are you doing?”
“Helping a love-brained fool pass on and accumulating some virtue for myself,” Su Weisheng replied offhandedly.
“…You’re earning cyber karma by knocking on a virtual wooden fish?” Su Ran was dumbfounded.
Su Weisheng glanced at the beads. A string of dark resentment was already rising from within them. Satisfied, he nodded and said, “Or I could just not accumulate virtue. As long as the soul being exorcised feels miserable, that’s good enough.”
Su Ran was left speechless.
Goodness, who knew things could be played like this!
—
Evening, Editing Room.
The raw footage for today’s video had just arrived, and the editing room was bustling with activity. Some were discussing which segments to cut, while others were preparing captions and memes. Amidst all the chaos, their gazes would occasionally drift toward a man sitting in the corner, reviewing the final edits. Every so often, their eyes would meet their colleagues’, exchanging looks of apprehension.
It was supposed to be live broadcast time, yet who would have thought that the chief director would abandon the set and suddenly come to watch the edited videos instead?
For nearly a week now, You Sui had been holding back the daytime footage from the villa group. No matter how much the netizens urged or speculated, he showed no intention of releasing it.
Right now, he had four edited clips in hand—each packed with explosive content: Old Man Song pestering his son, Song Qing, for money like a leech; Su Weisheng enlisting an auntie to fight violence with violence; Song Qing, with his great-grandfather’s help, identifying a karmic mole on his father, and; Jiang Yimian’s sudden visit today.
Any one of these clips, once released, would be enough to spark widespread discussion.
His assistant, standing beside him, reminded him, “Director You, there are still a lot of people in the livestream chat asking about the mole Song Qing pointed out. The topic is slowly gaining traction—should we post a video to follow up?”
You Sui waved a hand dismissively, his tone casual, “What’s the rush? If we release a clarification now, what’s left to watch? None of the people involved are in a hurry to explain, so why should I kill the momentum?”
“You have to trust the guests. They will definitely bring us more surprises.”
“…Alright.”
“But with all the noise online, why hasn’t our little ancestor reacted at all? What exactly is he plotting, or is there some detail I missed?”
You Sui rubbed his ears and continued scrolling through the videos. Before long, his attention was drawn to the last segment. “Why did Jiang Yimian suddenly come here and with that kind of attitude?” He dragged the video to the end and replayed Jiang Yimian and Xie Wei’s conversation twice. Slowly, his expression became more and more intriguing.
“Director You?” his assistant called.
You Sui snapped out of his thoughts and pointed to several clips on the computer, issuing an astonishing directive. “Starting today, none of the villa group’s footage is to be released. Hold everything back. Since everyone is so eager for gossip, we might as well make it big.”
He curled his lips into a smile, his gaze landing on Su Weisheng on the screen, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He thought to himself—he was finally catching up with this person’s rhythm. This feeling of unraveling a mystery was just too exhilarating.
The live broadcast in the tea party room was still ongoing, and the atmosphere remained bizarre. The four guests seemed to have their own agendas, while the host was exhausted from trying to steer the program’s flow, teetering on the verge of giving up entirely.
Drama Queen Song, traumatized by his own secondhand embarrassment, hesitated over every action he took. Best Actor Xie was focused on keeping his wife away from the grandfather-grandson duo opposite them, preventing any interaction. Su Ran was still immersed in his cyber-karma project, analyzing the prayer beads for any hidden mysteries. Meanwhile, Su Weisheng calmly took a piece of chocolate from the box and ate it like a health supplement, completely unbothered by the live broadcast cameras.
No one noticed as the program gradually moved into the audience Q&A segment.
The host asked a question, and they casually answered without much thought.
Randomly selecting from the live chat, the host suddenly picked an especially explosive one: “This user, whose name translates to ‘The Mentor Definitely Has a Crush on Me’, has a question. She asks, ‘What’s the meaning behind the mole that suddenly appeared on Song Qing’s face? Is it the legendary “Father-Dooming Mole”?’”
Hmm?
The moment this sinister topic was brought up, the previously lifeless atmosphere in the tea party room turned heavy.
Xie Wei and Su Ran immediately turned toward the camera, their gazes sharp with murderous intent—one feeling that the netizen was setting a trap for his wife, the other worried the trap would somehow drag their family’s little ancestor into it.
Only Song Qing was completely distracted, not even registering the question before absentmindedly responding, “Yeah, a Father-Dooming Mole. Specially curses your dad. Once you have it, whatever your dad does will go wrong—every deal he makes will lose money, everything he tries will fail…”
He trailed off, choking on his own words.
Shit. He accidentally told the truth.
A little panicked, his first instinct wasn’t to seek help from his husband but to glance instinctively at his idol-dad instead.
Oh crap—what now?! He wasn’t about to get canceled, was he?!
But Su Weisheng merely raised an eyebrow and lifted his chin slightly, signaling, “Go on. What’s there to panic about? Just speak the truth.”
Huh—? Can you actually just tell the truth?
Everyone was dumbfounded.
Only the little drama queen had absolute trust in his idol-dad. His brain hadn’t even fully processed the situation yet, but as soon as he heard those words, his mouth—completely unfiltered—spilled the truth without hesitation:
“Oh… yeah, it’s a Father-Dooming Mole. Great-grandfather gave it to me because my dad is an utterly vile person. When he was young, he cheated, beat my mom, and was involved in gambling, drugs, and everything in between. Now that he’s older, he’s leeching off me. If I don’t give him money, he tries to ruin me…”
“If you have a dad like that, I highly recommend getting a Father-Dooming Mole. It works wonders. It’ll ensure your dad ends up in jail for gambling and contracts syphilis from sleeping around. From that point on, you’ll never have to worry about him again.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “Plus, this mole can actually make you rich. Whatever stock your dad wants to buy, don’t touch it. Whatever stock he hates, buy as much as you can. In less than a month, you’ll go from broke to a billionaire. That’s exactly how I did it.”
The audience was completely dumbfounded.
【???】
【Did he just say that? Did he really get a Father-Dooming Mole?!】
【He’s joking, right? He has to be joking. I’m dying. This has to be self-deprecating humor because he’s sick of people spreading rumors about him.】
【Sorry, but my main concern here is—does this mole actually work? No lie, I’m a core member of the ‘Suffering Sons Alliance.’】
【Great-grandfather, look at me! If there’s a Father-Dooming Mole, is there a Husband-Dooming Mole too? Asking for one because, honestly, I’d love to be a young, filthy-rich widow…】
【HAHAHAHA I’m done. When Great-grandfather told him to ‘just speak the truth,’ I thought we were about to get some earth-shattering drama. Turns out, these two are just messing with the audience together!】
【Oh no, I’m getting tempted—what do I do? This isn’t a Father-Dooming Mole, stop talking nonsense! This is clearly a Wealth-Attracting Mole! I need one! Great-grandfather, please give me one!】
【Receiving Wealth-Attracting Mole!】
【Receiving! Receiving! Receiving the Wealth-Attracting Mole!】
Song Qing stared blankly at Su Weisheng. “I told the truth, so why don’t they believe me?”
Su Weisheng ignored him.
Because, for once, he had brought his phone on the show—only to receive an overwhelming flood of messages from all directions.
【EscapeStar @Lucky Money, You’d Better Behave: Master!! Master!! Is there really such a thing as a Wealth-Attracting Mole?!】
Brother, weren’t you the one who swore you’d never believe the scammy antics of that grandfather-grandson duo? And now you’re faltering just because of a so-called Wealth-Attracting Mole?
Meanwhile, Jiang Jinbao, who had just gotten Su Weisheng’s contact info, was also watching the live stream and spamming him like crazy:
【Great-grandfather, I’ll take it! I’ll take it! I’ll take the Wealth-Attracting Mole!! I’m making the decision for my dad—he can be cursed! Please, just let me get rich!!!】
【Oh, right—do you have an Uncle-Dooming Mole too? Just to be safe, I can get one more. I’ll make the decision for my uncle. Don’t worry; he definitely won’t mind.】
Omg Jinbao this filial child 💀