The fragile pin cracked open, and the paper doll, now unanchored, spun through the air a few times before landing with a “thud” on the table. Its once pristine and tidy white suit had completely turned into crumpled white paper, while its top hat sat askew on its head. After a long while, it finally lifted its head with great difficulty, barely clinging to life as it murmured, “I’ve already told…you… I am not some monarch of a fallen dynasty… Yuan Le… This is your persecution paranoia…”
“Thump—”
A merciless small hammer smashed bug’s head flat.
Su Weisheng stood towering over him, coldly commanding, “Speak properly.”
Bug: “…”
The paper doll struggled its way out from beneath the little jade hammer, leaning against a book to shakily regain its footing. It stubbornly pursed its lips, doing its best to puff out its thin paper chest to maintain some semblance of dignity. Then it removed its now-shattered silver-rimmed glasses, revealing its dark red eyes as it glared angrily at Su Weisheng.
“I am the spirit of the Underworld App, not the Yuan Le you keep claiming I am!” Bug firmly repeated, “You can’t just randomly assign a name and reason to me to justify your personal vendetta!”
Su Weisheng picked up the defiant paper doll and shook it, finding it rather incredulous. “Even after You Sui exposed you, you still refuse to admit it? Since when did you become so stubborn? The evidence is right there, yet you still pointlessly hold your ground.”
Bug flailed its arms in defiance, but being so small, it couldn’t even reach Su Weisheng. Its back-and-forth flailing resembled the comical antics of a stubby-legged cat in a fight.
Su Weisheng almost burst out laughing.
He put the paper doll down and flicked its forehead with a finger. As bug clutched its head and became dizzy, Su Weisheng lazily teased, “I never expected to see you acting this foolish, my little monarch.”
The paper doll plopped down onto the table, holding its head and glaring at him. Its ruby-red eyes, now slightly misty from the pain, were filled with fury. Even so, it still tried to talk tough: “I am not your little monarch! I’m the spirit of the app, and your slanderous behavior towards me is extremely excessive. I will report this to my creator and request to be reassigned to a new host!”
When it said “your little monarch”, its snow-white cheeks were tinged with a faint blush of embarrassment. After finishing its declaration, it attempted to retreat back into the app to avoid Su Weisheng entirely.
It didn’t escape.
With just one finger, Su Weisheng pinned the edge of its suit. Watching the paper doll, who was now completely consumed by anger and practically spitting fire from its eyes, his own gaze gradually took on a hint of doubt.
What was going on? Bug’s dazed yet furious demeanor seemed entirely genuine, devoid of any pretense. Could it be acting so well, or was he truly mistaken?
That couldn’t be. The situation with You Sui’s open exposure of the truth had been as clear as day.
Su Weisheng pondered for a moment. There were now only two possibilities: either he had made an error in one of his deductions and bug truly wasn’t Yuan Le, or Yuan Le had erased his own memories and approached him in the guise of the spirit of the app, making the confusion seem real.
After all, if Yuan Le still retained his memories, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to keep pretending after being so ruthlessly exposed. Besides, in Su Weisheng’s memories, his little monarch certainly didn’t possess acting skills this convincing.
But it wasn’t entirely out of the question that, after two hundred years apart, Yuan Le’s acting skills might have improved enough to fool him.
Su Weisheng remained cautiously skeptical, not fully letting down his guard.
Bug furiously questioned him, “What will it take for you to believe that I’m not the person you’re accusing me of being?”
“You want to prove it yourself? That’s easy…”
Su Weisheng slowly took out his phone, opened a video app, and played a clip from “The Legend of the High Priest”, selecting the “female lead solo cut”. The screen shifted, showing a beautiful girl in a pink gauze dress playfully washing her feet by the river, accompanied by bursts of joyful laughter.
It was a perfectly ordinary scene.
The next second, however, the male lead came running toward her, shouting as he ran, “Le’er—! Le’er, I’m back! Where are you?”
The girl turned her head and smiled brightly before softly throwing herself into the male lead’s embrace. “Brother Su Tiao, I’ve missed you so much…”
Su Tiao… Le’er… Yuan Le?
The paper doll: “?”
“? ?”
“? ? ?”
A string of question marks practically popped up above the paper doll’s head. Watching the delicate “Le’er” on the screen, sobbing pitifully to “Su Tiao”, the paper doll froze as if struck by lightning. A shiver ran down its entire paper body, bringing out goosebumps.
“Th-this… what is this?” it stammered.
After countless rounds of exposure therapy, Su Weisheng had grown completely immune to the ridiculous dramas based on his likeness. He even found himself thoroughly enjoying the paper doll’s meltdown. With a mischievous smile, he added fuel to the fire: “Never seen this before? This show is called ‘The Legend of the High Priest’. It’s all about the poignant, entangled love story between High Priest Su Tiao and the gender-swapped Yuan Le. That tearful, delicate girl over there? That’s Yuan Le.”
He enunciated clearly, repeating, “Her. Name. Is. Le’er.”
The real historical monarch Yuan Le had been a wise and decisive leader, commanding armies to bring peace and unity to the land.
Meanwhile, the “Le’er” on TV was fragile and lovely, now kneeling on the ground in tears, begging her clan to bless the love between her and her lover, Su Tiao.
Bug was stunned.
Its little paper body seemed fried inside and out. It grabbed a book and squeezed its entire self into it, attempting to escape reality.
Su Weisheng, unperturbed, dragged it back out and pointed at the cringeworthy drama. “If you can manage to watch this entire show, I’ll believe that you’re not Yuan Le.”
Bug was utterly devastated. “Whether I’m Yuan Le or not, there’s no way I could endure this kind of mental torture!”
Su Weisheng, every bit the tyrannical overlord, declared, “If you don’t finish it, you’re not going back into the app.”
Since the app existed within Su Weisheng’s sea of consciousness, he was even able to unilaterally sever the connection between the app and bug, rejecting its request to return.
After accomplishing this, he leisurely went back to his room to sleep, leaving behind the paper doll gripping its fists, wide-eyed, and staring at the screen in utter despair.
On the screen, “Le’er” was already on the verge of meeting her tragic end.
“Su Tiao” was cradling the fragile body of “Le’er”, dramatically wailing at the top of his lungs, “Le’er! Le’er!”
The paper doll, utterly thunderstruck, stood amidst the metaphoric storm, questioning its very existence. The entire night, it was forced to watch the cringeworthy drama while simultaneously racking its brain. Why on earth did the High Priest insist that it was the former dynasty’s monarch, Yuan Le? It was just a harmless little spirit—what had it done to deserve this?
Or… could it actually be Yuan Le, but without the memory of that past life?
“Le’er!”
“Brother Su Tiao!”
Another exaggerated moment of emotional exchanges blared through the screen, sending shivers down the paper doll’s “skin” like a lightning bolt. It stared in horror at the screen, where “Le’er”, dressed in a little pink dress, happily attracted bees. Shaking its head vigorously, it thought, “No, no, no, NO. That’s not me. That absolutely isn’t me!”
When Su Ran woke up, he felt his familiar back and waist aches, but he was beginning to adapt to his nightmarish training sessions in his dreams. Casually getting out of bed to wash up, he noticed his phone beeping incessantly.
While brushing his teeth, he looked at his phone and realized that the topic “The Wealth Mole is Actually Real” had gone viral last night, causing quite a stir. Even many acquaintances had privately messaged him.
Agent He Heng: Ran, has your great-grandfather ever calculated your career path? He must have, right? You’ve been so calm and composed lately; you must be confident! What did your great-grandfather say? Share it with your brother He! And maybe ask him to predict the future of our company too…
Actor A: Brother Su, when will your great-grandfather be available? I’ve prepared a gift and would like to visit him.
Investor B: Please introduce me to your great-grandfather. Generous rewards await.
“Tch—”
Su Ran irritably closed the messages one by one. These people, who had always disliked his sharp tongue and mocked him behind his back, were now sucking up to him just to meet his great-grandfather. How boring.
When he scrolled to the bottom of the chat box, his hand paused. It was a message from the person he disliked the most. He had pulled this person out of the blacklist last time to send them a scolding message and had forgotten to block them again.
Lu Huanjin: Your group is so lively. Looking forward to the group reshuffle in a few days. (smile)
The soft yet sarcastic tone made Su Ran’s face darken. With a toothbrush in his mouth, he furiously typed:
Your Dad: The reshuffle will just mix up the order for reshooting. Who knows, I might end up in the same group as Sunny. I’m really looking forward to petting his cat. Or maybe I’ll be grouped with Xie Wei. I’ve recently realized Xie Wei is actually a pretty good person—definitely better than a certain soft, sneaky, venomous snake! But even if I end up living with the snake, it doesn’t matter. I’ve brought pliers, perfect for pulling out the snake’s teeth one by one!
Lu Huanjin replied instantly: A one-third chance. I’m more looking forward to the scene of a flustered chicken chasing someone to pull out their teeth. (laughs)
Su Ran cursed, grumbled, and dragged him back into the blacklist. When he refreshed the WeChat page, the top chat became the Ruby boy band group. Out of the seven members, six were tagging him.
Lead dancer Qin Xiaoheng: @Su Ran Mom! Male Mom! Please, Male Mom! Let little great-grandfather do a fortune reading for me! I have money, any amount is fine QAQ. I want to know if my goddess and I have a chance!
Guitarist Tong Wei: Mom! Mom, I’m almost at your villa’s gate. Please let me in, Mom!
Lyricist Song Youzi: Me, me, me too! Male Mom, help me ask great-grandfather if I’ll have a chance to be the lead singer in the future!
Others: Mom! Male Mom, don’t forget about us! We want it too!
This group of brats kept calling him “Male Mom” and begging for great-grandfather’s fortune readings, making Su Ran’s anger flare up. With a blank expression, he began attacking them one by one.
Your Dad: Bootlickers never end well. The sooner you die and reincarnate, the sooner you might end up as your goddess’s son.
Your Dad: Don’t come to the villa gate. There’s a sign: Tong Wei and dogs are not allowed.
Your Dad: How does someone tone-deaf even have the courage to dream of being the lead singer? Having dreams is truly impressive!
After roasting them all, he left the group chat, feeling refreshed.
These brats still think they can use him to get close to his great-grandfather? Not a chance!
After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Su Ran confidently strode out of his room with a proud gait. As he reached the living room, he faintly heard voices coming from the study. He checked the time—it was 6 a.m. Was his great-grandfather up this early?
Curious, the great-grandson knocked on the study door. Receiving no response, he pushed it gently, and the door opened easily. What followed was a familiar, exaggerated, and tragic roar that blasted into his ears:
“Le’er—! I’ll kill you all and bury you with Le’er!!”
It was as if a thunderbolt struck Su Ran’s head, leaving him utterly stunned.
How could this voice not be familiar? It was unmistakably his own, from his dedicated acting performance, complete with his insistence on using his original voice instead of dubbing.
Frozen stiff at the doorway, he stared intently inside. On the desk was a charging phone, playing this year’s Golden Broom Award-winning film “The Legend of the High Priest” on loop. Beside it was a small paper figure, lying weakly and foaming at the mouth.
Why was the paper figure moving?
Su Ran stared at it in shock and uncertainty.
Hearing the noise, the dazed paper figure lifted its head, glanced at the face in the doorway, and was startled. It doubted its own perception, then turned back to look at the phone screen displaying “Su Tiao”.
Damn! The face was identical—it was this brat’s portrayal of Su Tiao that was heavily polluting it. And the comments had already pointed out that the ridiculous, delicate “Le’er” was also his brainchild!
The brat and the paper figure stared at each other across the distance.
After a moment, Su Ran let out a loud “Aaaaah!” and bolted, yelling, “Great-grandfather, save me! There’s a ghost! It’s a moving paper figure!!!”
Su Weisheng slowly walked out of the bedroom and smacked him on the forehead, forcing him to be quiet. Calmly, he said, “What’s all the noise about? I asked it to admire your masterpiece in the study.”
The great-grandson froze in place, speechless: “…”
Su Weisheng entered the study, reached out, and flicked the paper figure, speaking as if he were checking homework: “Did you finish watching the whole show?”
“…” The paper figure nodded heavily.
Su Ran stood at the door, watching pitifully. He saw the paper figure expressionlessly standing on the table, enduring a “homework check” from his great-grandfather. It answered each question, but the more it answered, the heavier its resentment grew—so much that actual waves of resentment seemed to rise from its back. All the while, its dark red eyes fixed coldly on Su Ran, full of animosity.
The great-grandson was utterly despairing. Sure, he’d acted in the show, but it wasn’t as if he made this ghostly paper figure watch it. Why blame him instead of his great-grandfather? Did it really need to be this resentful?
The worst part was… winning the Golden Broom Award had already been humiliating enough. Now, it seemed like this show was embarrassing him even in the afterlife.
Song Qing was jolted awake by Su Ran’s terrified cries of “A ghost!” He sat up with a start, looking around frantically. “A ghost? Where? Where is it?”
As Xie Wei was getting dressed, he held his wife down and explained, “It’s coming from next door. Su Ran is making a fuss again. Don’t worry about it.”
Although their relationship was technically “contractual”, their increasingly ambiguous dynamic resembled that of a real married couple. So while they hadn’t gone all the way, they often slept in the same bed.
Song Qing sat cross-legged on the bed, his eyes darting around mischievously. He thought to himself that Su Ran’s cries sounded so heartfelt—there must be something fun going on next door. Unfortunately, he had to hold back and couldn’t rush over so openly.
Xie Wei looked skeptically at his scheming wife. “What are you plotting?”
Naturally, Song Qing couldn’t admit the truth. He coughed and, maintaining his character, threw out a half-hearted jab at Su Ran: “I’m guessing it’s Su Ran’s great-grandfather stirring up trouble again.”
“I’ve told you not to hold grudges against great-grandfather,” Xie Wei began in a fatherly tone of persuasion aimed at his delicate spouse, and concluded with, “You’re still under the curse that swindling monk put on you, and it hasn’t been lifted yet. You’ll be fine once it’s gone. I remember you used to get along so well with great-grandfather. Ah, it’s all my fault.”
Feeling guilty, the best actor transferred money to his wife as consolation.
Before leaving, Xie Wei added, “I need to head out to relocate my mom’s grave. I’ll be back tonight. Stay home and don’t cause trouble, okay?”
“I know, I know!” Song Qing replied.
The little troublemaker gleefully admired the payment records on his phone. It wasn’t much, but earning money always brought an inexplicable joy bubbling inside. Still, he felt a twinge of guilt—was it really okay to trick his husband like this?
As usual, he transferred half of the money to his great-grandfather.
Su Weisheng: ?
My Husband Can Screw a Cactus =3= My husband sent me comfort money specifically to prevent me from arguing with great-grandfather. I feel guilty spending ill-gotten gains, so I donate half to great-grandfather. That way, spending the rest doesn’t feel bad!
Su Weisheng: Approved.
Those three words made the little drama queen gleefully clutch his phone.
“Hahaha, I knew it would be approved. As expected of my idol dad—we’re always so in sync! As for my husband… just a little more patience. Once this month is over, I can tell him the monk’s curse has been lifted~”
Happily, he tossed his phone onto the pillow, yawned, and burrowed back under the covers. Rolling around, he bumped into a small, hard object. Half-asleep, he pushed it aside and drifted back into a nap.
Meanwhile, Xie Wei stepped out of the villa and confirmed the schedule with his assistant. Just as he was about to drive off, he instinctively patted his pocket. Not finding the protective charm his mother had left him, he slapped his forehead in frustration—it must’ve been left behind when he got out of bed.
“Hold on, I’ll grab something real quick,” he told the assistant before quickly heading back inside. Climbing upstairs and entering the bedroom, he was greeted by the sight of his delicate spouse’s sweet, sleeping face.
Not bad. Having such an adorable and easy-to-please wife really was a blessing.
Thinking about how his husband would get jealous and antagonize great-grandfather for his sake and how a little money could instantly cheer his wife up, perfectly satisfying his sense of being a “big man”, Xie Wei felt deeply content.
He found the protective charm on the bedside table and was about to leave when his peripheral vision caught Song Qing’s phone lighting up beside the pillow. A notification popped up, sent by: Idol Dad.
Xie Wei froze. Idol Dad? Was that the username of one of his delicate spouse’s friends? But something felt off. Curious, he picked up the phone, entered Song Qing’s usual password, and easily unlocked the screen. The WeChat page was paused on an unread message.
Idol Dad: Su Ran is too noisy. Take him over there.
Xie Wei scrolled up and found a long string of chat records and countless transfer transactions. One particular line stood out glaringly…
Half-asleep, Song Qing suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He opened his eyes and was startled to see his husband’s expressionless face. He jolted awake in fear. “H-Honey, what’s going on?”
Xie Wei slowly repeated, “Ill-gotten gains.”
The little drama queen: “…?”
Xie Wei: “Guilty conscience. Donated to great-grandfather.”
The little drama queen: “!!!”
He let out a loud scream, rolled off the bed, and bolted out of the room, yelling, “Great-grandfather, save me! I’ve been caught!!!”
Bang! The door slammed shut.
The frustrated Xie Wei, with a dark expression and gritted teeth, dragged his wife back. “Come back here and explain to me exactly what kind of ill-gotten gains you’ve been dealing with!”
Meanwhile, Su Weisheng had already retrieved bug that had been tormented to the point of doubting its existence.
In the study, the great-grandson relentlessly rants to his great-grandfather, complaining about his unlucky life of being socially ruined by him yet again. He even accuses his great-grandfather of unethical behavior, claiming that despite his efforts to improve, the great-grandfather keeps digging up his embarrassing past.
Su Weisheng, annoyed by the noise, messaged the little drama queen, asking him to take the great-grandson away. When no reply came, he frowned and calculated—nope, not reliable.
The little drama queen had his own mess to deal with and couldn’t help.
Rubbing his ears, Su Weisheng turned to the overly noisy great-grandson and said, “If you’re really bored, why not do something productive?”
The great-grandson: “Huh? Like what?”
Su Weisheng thought for a moment and replied, “Go shoot more daily footage with the production team and encourage viewers to subscribe to the show’s membership.”
Su Ran was so incredulous upon hearing this that he thought he must be hallucinating. His face was filled with disbelief as he said, “Great-grandfather, when did you start cooperating with the production team? Haven’t you always wanted to see the show shut down? Assistant Director Chen Kang over there is still worried every day that you’ll blow up the live broadcast. Is this some sudden moral awakening?”
“No,” Su Weisheng replied honestly. “I wanted to see the production team fail before because it had nothing to do with me. But now, this show is part of our own business, so of course, I have to care about it. As for you… repurposing waste isn’t bad—might as well make use of you.”
The great-grandson was thoroughly confused, hearing only vague hints. “What do you mean by our own business? And how am I suddenly being repurposed as waste?”
Before he could get a clear answer, there was a knock on the door, followed by Bai Songyin’s surprised voice as he opened it: “Director You?”
You Sui had arrived?
Su Ran opened the study door and peeked outside. He saw the mischievous troublemaker leisurely walking in, holding a brocade box and a document folder.
Frowning deeply, Su Ran watched him with caution. “Director You, what’s the matter?”
You Sui didn’t care about the rejection at all. Instead, he casually walked over, boldly ruffled Su Ran’s hair, and said with an overly warm, slightly smug tone, “Good morning, great-grandson.”
Su Ran’s face turned green, and he slapped the man’s hand away. “Speak your business and stop taking liberties with me!”
You Sui completely ignored Su Ran’s attitude, walked to the study door, and gave Su Weisheng a subtle gesture indicating the items in his hands. With a smile on his overly handsome face, he gazed unwaveringly at Su Weisheng and said cheerfully, “I’ve found the reason that only I could uncover. Would you like to check if it’s the correct answer?”
“What is it?” Su Ran asked irritably, glaring at them, annoyed at their cryptic exchanges.
In the next moment, he saw his great-grandfather staring at the items in You Sui’s hands for a long time. Then, a faint, almost gentle smile appeared on his usually indifferent and cold face.
Well, naturally, who wouldn’t like a diligent little slave who worked hard to earn money while being considerate?
Immediately, Su Weisheng’s warm voice rang out, “Sui’er, come in.”
What the—! The great-grandson was startled by the overly intimate address.
However, Director You didn’t seem particularly pleased by this level of familiarity. In fact, the faintly self-satisfied expression he usually wore had become subtly distorted.
You Sui stepped inside and said, “There’s no need to call me that. That ‘Sui’er’ for a moment made me feel like I was hallucinating.”
“Hallucinating about what?”
“Hallucinating that you were calling me ‘Le’er’,” You Sui replied profoundly. “I had a bizarre dream all last night. In the dream, an exaggerated voice shouted ‘Le’er’ over and over so heartbreakingly that it made me feel like throwing up.”
