Su Weisheng’s expression turned a bit peculiar. Is it possible that last night in his dream, he spent the whole night listening to “The Legend of the High Priest”? Wouldn’t that make everything seem more reasonable now?
Alright, fine. Bug’s dramatic performance throughout the night ended up completely pointless—he couldn’t prove his innocence, and on top of that, the suspicion against him was ruthlessly intensified. It was downright inhumane.
Sabotaging himself like this was honestly too absurd. Extreme measures brought opposite results. By any logic, Yuan Le wasn’t supposed to be such a brainless fool, but this whole mess had Su Weisheng starting to question whether Yuan Le’s plan had gone terribly wrong or if there was some deeper intrigue at play.
Thinking this, he cast a doubtful look at You Sui, trying to detect any trace of deception on him.
He found none.
By now, You Sui had nonchalantly seated himself across from Su Weisheng, leisurely crossing one leg over the other. One hand rubbed at his brow while the other pushed all the items he’d brought over to him. “Here, my sincerity. This time, I shouldn’t be rejected again, right?”
As he spoke, he gazed unblinkingly at Su Weisheng, his eyes filled with a triumphant, proud smile.
Su Weisheng crossed his arms and stared at him, not even glancing at the items pushed toward him. He found it rather amusing. Director You probably considered himself the triumphant solver of the mystery and conqueror of challenges, completely unaware of how much he resembled a goofy golden retriever eagerly showing off to its owner.
“Are you sure the things you brought can move me?” Su Weisheng asked deliberately.
You Sui, still smiling, countered, “If I weren’t confident, why would I bring them?”
Unhappy with the riddles they kept playing, Su Ran interrupted in frustration, “I’m his own great-grandson, and even I don’t know what could easily move Grandpa’s heart. Director You seems more confident than me—let’s take a look at what’s inside here.”
With that, he stepped forward, grabbed the long brocade box, and, with a slightly reckless attitude, opened it unceremoniously. What met his eyes was a jade-green candle holder.
The oval base had a burned-out wick, and the hollowed-out sections featured intricately carved little jade figures, each holding up the base in an amusingly clumsy pose.
These carved figures looked silly, but definitely not as silly as the great-grandson at this moment.
The great-grandson picked up the candle holder, examined it from all angles, blinked once, then twice, and turned to great-grandfather with a puzzled expression, asking, “Why does this thing feel unfamiliar, yet oddly familiar at the same time?”
Su Weisheng looked deeply at the candle holder in the great-grandson’s hand, then let out a cold laugh. “This is the jade candle holder your great-grandfather snuck out of the ancestral hall and sold for money.”
The great-grandson: “…” Damn it, he walked straight into trouble!
Su Ran gave an awkward laugh, nonchalantly placed the candle holder back into the brocade box, swiftly closed it, and pushed it toward Su Weisheng’s side. “Director You is a really good person, huh? Even sent this back to our Su family. Uh… what’s this over here!”
He pointed to a document envelope to change the subject, opened it quickly, and found inside a daily sales financial report for the program’s membership app. Under the shareholders section, two names stood in a vertical arrangement:
【You Sui, Su Weisheng】
The great-grandson was dumbfounded.
Su Weisheng’s tone was calm: “If you have nothing else to do, go take three strikes with the hammer to digest it.”
“I’ll head to the production team right now to film some material to generate revenue for our family business!” The great-grandson’s reaction was lightning fast. He dropped the financial report and bolted, the sound of the door slamming behind him marking his swift disappearance.
You Sui had been watching the interaction between the great-grandfather and great-grandson with great interest. He observed the great-grandson’s embarrassment over the jade candle holder and Su Weisheng’s subtle irritation, all of which seemed to validate his conjecture step by step.
After everyone had left, You Sui finally stood up slowly. He replaced the candle holder’s wick and lit it with a flick of his lighter. A faint glow immediately emanated from the jade-green candle holder.
Pointing at the light, You Sui said, “This candle holder was given to me by someone who claimed that one of their elders had bought it long ago from a descendant of a declining family. But the moment I saw it, it felt strangely familiar.”
Placing his hand on the candle holder to feel its warmth, he closed his eyes and sighed softly, “Although this is my first time using it, in my dreams, it feels like I’ve lit this candle holder thousands upon thousands of times, gazing at someone else through its faint glow…”
Su Weisheng lightly tapped the table, pulling him back from his reverie and calmly reminding him, “If you want to ask something, just say it directly. There’s no need to test the waters.”
You Sui abruptly opened his eyes, his bright gaze fixed unwaveringly on Su Weisheng. “Those dreams really happened, didn’t they? It’s just that I’ve reincarnated, while you’ve retained all your memories, High Priest.” The last three words were spoken with absolute certainty.
Su Weisheng lifted his eyes to meet his gaze—one calm, the other fervent.
He wasn’t surprised that You Sui could guess his identity. Being a reincarnation forged from Yuan Le’s flesh and blood naturally came with the blessing of dream memories—if he couldn’t guess, it would only mean he was pretending to be clueless.
Su Weisheng smiled silently and asked, “I am the High Priest. Then who do you think you are, Le’er?”
The last two words successfully twisted You Sui’s expression, shattering his calm demeanor. Gritting his teeth, he asked, “My past life… the former dynasty’s ruler, Yuan Le, must have been male, right? There’s no way it was a woman disguised as a man conquering the world—that’s too absurd. The Su family’s genealogy records must be mistaken, right?”
“That’s not necessarily the case. Aren’t you always fond of solving mysteries? You’ll have to find the answer yourself,” Su Weisheng replied meaningfully.
This ambiguous response was far more terrifying than outright confirming that “Le’er” was a woman. You Sui stared at him in shock and uncertainty, his expression cracking for a moment. “…Impossible, right?”
Su Weisheng’s lips curled ever so slightly upward as he enjoyed watching You Sui’s frantic reaction. Facing Yuan Le, who was at a disadvantage due to the information gap, was far too entertaining—it carried a mischievous delight in manipulating someone at will.
He avoided discussing the topic further, deliberately teasing Director You into doubting his own existence, before pointing seriously at the brocade box to change the subject. “You brought such a generous gift just to confirm my identity? If there’s nothing else, I’ll accept it.”
The man’s hand suddenly grabbed Su Weisheng’s wrist, stopping his movement.
You Sui ground his teeth slightly. Every setback he’d ever experienced in this life had been caused by this man. Looking at Su Weisheng’s mischievous expression, he said irritably, “I’ve brought the gift. Now, can I touch the proud cat’s fur?”
“Childish.” Su Weisheng sneered softly, flicking You Sui’s forehead. “Two lifetimes, and still so childish.”
He leaned lazily back in his chair like a cat, indulgingly beckoning to the immature little fish. “Isn’t it just about liking to touch heads? Come here, I’ll give you this chance.”
The eyes of a certain fish surnamed You instantly lit up, as if fulfilling a long-cherished wish. He leaned intimately toward Su Weisheng, taking the opportunity to push his luck further, “Then why don’t you tell me the stories from back then while you’re at it?”
“Nothing much to tell, Le’er. Focus while you braid my hair.” Su Weisheng continued, “And think about this—since you love touching my hair so much, isn’t there a chance that in your previous life, you were my hair-braiding maid, Le’er?”
“…” Bad luck.
Su Ran spent the entire morning busily cooperating with the production team to film material. His hardworking and accommodating demeanor left the team questioning reality, briefly wondering if he’d been replaced by someone else entirely.
As noon approached and Su Ran prepared to rest, he happened to see Song Qing limping downstairs. That sight… Su Ran frowned and asked with concern, “Did you get stuffed in a sack and beaten up because you were being too much of a diva?”
That kind of “concern”? Unwelcome, to say the least.
Song Qing rolled his eyes at him irritably. “What do you even know, you little brat? Where’s great-grandfather? I knocked on his door earlier but got no response. Is he downstairs?”
“Upstairs, discussing serious matters with someone,” the great-grandson casually dismissed the comment that had made him question everything, and swiftly changed the topic, “You’re seeking out great-grandpa so eagerly—aren’t you afraid your husband might see?”
Song Qing took a deep breath, looking utterly despairing, and said, “No fear; there’s nothing left to be afraid of anymore.”
Su Ran was shocked. “He abused you? Are you breaking up? Wow, what a juicy scoop!”
Speechless, Song Qing glanced at the top star, then shook his head after a moment and commented, “No wonder your fans call you Ran Three Years Old. You really don’t seem like an adult.”
Su Ran: “Hey! Why does this have to turn into a personal attack?”
Song Qing limped back the way he came, slowly ascending the stairs as he said languidly, “Other people’s cars are already on the highway, while you’re still stuck with Makka Pakka.”
Su Ran: ?
What? What does that mean?
Ran Three Years Old accidentally boarded a bus that wasn’t headed to kindergarten. Scratching his head in confusion, he couldn’t understand the cryptic phrases coming from the passengers.
Meanwhile, as the topic of boycotting «Another Side of Family Life» trended endlessly on social media, many thought the show would finally crash and burn. But no one expected that in just one night, You Sui would nonchalantly drop a bombshell that completely stunned everyone.
Following that, leveraging the eerie meme about the “wealth mole” turning into reality, the show’s traffic soared rapidly. After introducing the membership feature, its popularity even surpassed that of the previous free viewing stage. Countless gossip-hungry netizens flocked to the live broadcast room, pushing the program’s viewership to unprecedented heights.
Before the live stream even started, the program’s app was already struggling with lag due to the overwhelming traffic.
【Came here for the legendary little great-grandfather, curious to see if he’s really that impressive!】
【Such a gimmick, specifically targeting gullible fans like you.】
【Stop whining. You were willing enough to buy the membership, weren’t you?】
【Hahaha, the person above seems like an “EscapeStar”!】
【Escape Star: Hilarious. I came to expose your little great-grandfather’s flaws. We’re not the same breed.】
【Wow, so many influencers and celebrities are watching this show! I just saw my idol’s ID online!】
【Lol, my queen followed little great-grandfather too, just to keep up.】
Many curious bystanders, drawn in by the trending topics and bizarre discussions, clicked in and purchased memberships with a “give it a try” attitude. As the barrage of comments kept praising “little great-grandfather”, leaving no room for talk about other guests or celebrities, some began to feel annoyed:
【Isn’t this supposed to be a multi-guest program? Isn’t little great-grandfather’s fandom spamming the chat a bit overboard? Aren’t the fans of the top stars and the best actor doing anything about it?】
The response from the top star’s fan was leisurely yet blunt: 【Nope. The top star is his great-grandson, so it’s not our place to manage him.】 Straightforward and undeniable—it left no room for argument.
The best actor’s fans had gradually adapted to the situation: 【Mr. Xie’s devotion to little great-grandfather is far more intense than ours towards great-grandfather. Let him be—after all, if great-grandfather were to bless him with a “wealth mole”, he’d strike gold.】
A first-time viewer scoffed: 【Isn’t he just another celebrity flaunting mysticism to build a lofty image? All this fanfare is just hype for his debut, isn’t it?】
As soon as this comment was posted, the live stream began. The camera moved from a distance to a close-up, fully understanding the audience’s anticipation, and focused on a guest with long braids adorned with silver accessories.
—Who is this? A new guest?
The audience was puzzled.
The person had their head lowered, nibbling on chocolate beans—a familiar trademark gesture. As the host called out “great-grandfather”, they casually raised their head to glance at the camera. A face with stunningly exquisite features yet exuding an icy demeanor appeared on the big screen.
Their smooth forehead was tied with a silver-decorated headband, and their cascading long hair was thinned and styled into subtle layers, then braided into numerous delicate little braids playfully draping behind them. They looked like a beautiful yet enigmatic youth straight out of a demon folklore story.
【Whoa!!! That’s Little great-grandfather?】
【Oh my gosh. Kind of mesmerizing, but also oddly eerie…】
【…This appearance is way too “anime-like”! I take back everything I said before—can he debut right here and now?】
Even the audience wasn’t the only group stunned; the other guests were equally taken aback. Song Qing, rubbing his eyes in shock, blurted out, “Great-grandfather?!”
Su Weisheng lazily raised his eyelids and glanced at him, responding indifferently with a soft “Mm.”
Song Qing, shocked, grabbed his chair and changed his position, sitting next to Su Weisheng and craning his neck to get a closer look. The more he looked, the more amazed he became. This was the first time he’d seen great-grandfather like this. “Why did you suddenly decide to change your look?”
Su Weisheng glanced sideways at the culprit in the corner, who was busy refreshing the backend data. The latter noticed his gaze and responded with a bright, sunny smile.
Su Weisheng replied calmly, “A certain childish individual did it. Said the price of petting a cat was too steep, so they had to get their money’s worth all at once.” And thus, that person retaliated by braiding his hair into a head full of little plaits as revenge for him teasing them about possibly being a hair-braiding maid named Le’er in their previous life.
Childish! Absolutely childish!
The very culprit, smiling like a rascal, admired their masterpiece with great satisfaction and enthusiastically chimed in, “Great-grandfather’s look really suits the occasion today. I’d say the stylist deserves a drumstick as a reward.”
Su Weisheng sneered coldly, “The reward is a 24-hour loop of Le’er’s solo cut from ‘The Legend of the High Priest’.”
The stylist, surnamed You, instantly looked dejected and defeated.
With five days left until the conclusion of the first episode, viewership numbers continued to hit new peaks. Naturally, the production team wasn’t going to let such an opportunity slip. Today’s program still included interactive elements for the audience.
After a simple introduction and warm-up activities, the host followed the schedule and proposed, “We’re about to temporarily say goodbye to the audience. To show our appreciation for everyone’s support of our program, how about we hold a live prize draw?”
“Each guest will prepare three gifts, which we will randomly draw and give to lucky viewers during the livestream.”
Xie Wei cautiously asked, “Do we prepare the gift contents ourselves, or will the viewers request the gifts they want?” The former seemed normal, while the latter was clearly a setup by the production team to stir things up.
The guests were visibly on guard.
Allowing viewers to make their own requests would inevitably lead to a flurry of wild demands designed to put the guests in tough spots.
The host smiled, “You’ll prepare the gift contents yourselves.”
Su Ran breathed a sigh of relief.
The host added, “But Director You said this isn’t interesting enough, so we’ve added a new rule: if viewers are dissatisfied with the gifts they receive, they’ll have the right to designate a new gift instead.”
Everyone: “…” Well, that still sounds like chaos waiting to happen!
【Hahaha, I’m dying. I’ve already decided—whatever gift I get, I’ll say I’m dissatisfied and demand that Su Ran perform a dance routine for me!】
【The sister above, you’re dreaming. The odds of winning are so low, you’ll never get selected!】
【If I win, I’d definitely say I’m dissatisfied too. I’d ask little great-grandfather to star in a romance drama with me, where he falls hopelessly in love!】
【No ambition! Don’t just get lost in great-grandfather’s beauty—obviously, you should ask him to bless your face with a wealth mole!】
【Did you notice the little drama queen’s limp? My ship must’ve been do~ing hard last night—I demand a live broadcast!】
The chaotic creativity of the online audience was endless. Just glancing at the corner of the screen filled with comments was enough to make the guests feel faint.
In this situation, the great-grandson naturally turned to Su Weisheng for help: “Great-grandfather, you can’t just let them keep going with this madness, right?”
Su Weisheng thoughtfully looked at the comments, then turned to the host.
The host, initially brimming with confidence and pride in the segment, instantly felt a chill under Su Weisheng’s gaze. Awkwardly laughing, they nervously asked, “Great-grandfather, do you have any thoughts?”
Su Weisheng replied, “If a winning viewer claims dissatisfaction with the gift I prepared, the prerequisite must be that they’ve actually used it before expressing dissatisfaction. This rule I’m adding is correct, isn’t it?”
The host hesitated, glanced at Director You and the assistant director, then finally nodded, “…That’s correct.”
At this moment, neither the production team nor the gleeful audience had realized the gravity of the situation.
The next second, Su Weisheng leisurely pulled out his jar of chocolates. “Three gifts, right? Perfect—I have three jars left. One jar per person. Eat it first, then tell me if you’re dissatisfied.”
Everyone: ??? What the heck!
【Grass (a type of plant)】
【I knew great-grandfather would have a backup plan, but I didn’t expect him to play so dirty…】
【Isn’t that the same jar of chocolates he’s been eating? If you don’t want to eat them, there’s no need to overreact this much, is there?】
【To the person above… good luck winning.】
【Oh my god, I still remember the first day of the livestream when great-grandfather’s jar of “health supplements” practically AOE’d the whole room. Didn’t someone even start foaming at the mouth back then?】
The chaotic barrage of comments was thoroughly suppressed by the even more chaotic antics of great-grandfather.
As if witnessing a divine intervention, the other guests quickly followed suit. They each presented their own ultimate countermeasures, declaring that if anyone wanted to claim dissatisfaction, they’d have to first experience their gifts!
That night, it was destined that the joys and sorrows of humanity would not align.
The guests felt a triumphant sense of justice at last, launching a counterattack against both the production team and the trolling viewers under great-grandfather’s lead. Meanwhile, the unlucky winners who would soon be receiving their “gifts” felt nothing but complex emotions.
After all, to express dissatisfaction with the gift, one would have to completely finish Grandpa’s jar of chocolates. If they didn’t eat it, they couldn’t complain. But if they did… it would be no different from signing their own doom. Would they even have the strength to get up and say, “I’m not satisfied”?
This was a case of dealing 800 damage to your opponent while taking 8,000 yourself!
Leading the group of great-grandfather’s critics, the “EscapeStar” faction of anti-fans and big accounts watched the livestream while criticizing his pretentiousness, plotting to expose Su Weisheng’s flaws and stage a counterattack.
Unbothered, Su Weisheng was too busy disciplining Bug to notice their scheming in the group chat.
Late at night, he sat in his study, engaged in a glaring contest with the little paper figure on his desk.
The paper figure had reverted to its usual prim and proper appearance, dressed in a suit and tie. Standing straight with its chin slightly raised, it leveled a harsh rebuke at Su Weisheng: “I cleared my name yesterday! I spent all night watching Le’er—you can’t use this against me anymore!”
At the mention of Le’er, it seemed to feel a wave of nausea, but the dignified paper figure managed to hold it in, maintaining its composure.
Su Weisheng, not in a rush, reached out and playfully flicked the top of Bug’s hat, knocking it askew. Watching the little paper figure glare at him with anger yet unable to voice its frustration, Su Weisheng felt a tiny bit of satisfaction, finally venting a fraction of the annoyance from having his hair braided earlier.
“I won’t make you watch “The Legend of the High Priest” tonight, but if you want to truly prove your innocence, you still have a long way to go.” A mischievous smile spread across Su Weisheng’s lips as he pulled out a wooden fish set from a cabinet and placed it on the desk. He also took off his amazonite bead bracelet and tossed it aside, grinning brightly at Bug. “Tonight, you’ll be striking the wooden fish. Keep striking it until morning, and then you can rest.”
The paper figure: ???
Bug stared in disbelief at the wooden fish, which was twice its size. “I’m supposed to strike it? Are you sure it won’t end up striking me?”
“All I know is, I want to hear the sound of the wooden fish tonight.”
The Great Demon King Su played by no rules at all. He casually picked up the wooden fish and gave it a sharp “dong”, causing the amazonite bead bracelet to slide an inch away, clearly unable to bear it. Evidently, the residual soul inside wanted nothing to do with this.
Ah, that was exactly the outcome he wanted.
With a mischievous grin, Su Weisheng slid the bracelet back next to the wooden fish. “Your task tonight is to strike the wooden fish and transcend the residual soul inside the bracelet. Good luck, Bug. Do a good job, and you might finally clear your name and prove you’re not Yuan Le.”
See? What a delightful setup—letting Yuan Le No. 1, the paper figure, strike the wooden fish to transcend Yuan Le No. 2, the residual soul inside the bracelet. Then, through the act of the primary soul Yuan Le No. 1 striking the wooden fish, the sound could carry over to the sleeping Yuan Le No. 3 in the distance, ensuring they’d spend the whole night dreaming to the sound of a wooden fish.
Yuan Le transcends Yuan Le. Perfect.
Satisfied with his elaborate setup, the Great Demon King Su gleefully went to bed.
Meanwhile, the paper figure sat on the desk, glaring at the wooden fish with a face full of resentment. After a long while, it sluggishly got up, grabbed the small hammer, and struck with all its might. “Dong—”
“Dong, dong, dong—”
The amazonite bead bracelet glowed again and again, sliding further and further away.
The paper figure grabbed the bracelet with determination, dragging it back. “Where do you think you’re going? Sit tight for the transcending ritual and listen!”
The soul inside the bracelet: “…”
Bug spent half the night striking the wooden fish.
The soul inside the bracelet might have been transcended—or perhaps not—but the paper figure was on the verge of exhaustion, feeling as if it were about to float away from sheer fatigue.
The more it thought about it, the more frustrated it became.
The paper figure looked down at the small wooden hammer in its hand, its overwhelming resentment materializing into a tangible black aura above its head. It was determined to take action!
Meanwhile, Su Ran had spent an entire night in his dream practicing swordsmanship, leaving him utterly drained—only to find no respite. Suddenly, in the midst of his dream, the sound of the wooden fish began to echo, growing louder and clearer with every passing second.
Then, everything went black. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in reality.
“Why the heck am I awake this early?” he muttered, lying in bed and staring at the dark ceiling, blinking sleepily, still groggy.
“Dong—” The sound of the wooden fish exploded in his ears like thunder out of nowhere.
Su Ran jolted fully awake in an instant. Turning his head, he saw the paper figure standing by his pillow, holding the wooden fish high as if preparing to smash it directly into his face. In the darkness, the figure’s deep, glowing red eyes were terrifyingly eerie.
“Holy—!!!”
The great-grandson let out a miserable scream, tumbling out of bed in a frantic roll.
The paper figure’s blood-red eyes remained fixed on him, its thick, drifting aura of resentment swirling behind it. In a chilling tone, it asked, “You’re the one who filmed “The Legend of the High Priest”, right? And you’re the one who pushed to add that female lead named Le’er, isn’t that so…?”
