The first time Su Weisheng met Su Ning, he had already suspected that this might be his youngest child. That’s why he used the glitch to access the Book of Life and Death—first, to confirm his guess, and second, to check what this unlucky kid had been up to while he was asleep.
Alright, the Book of Life and Death had insufficient permissions. Still, Su Laiyin “confessed” anyway—exposing everything about himself without reservation, then grinning as he presented it to Su Weisheng like some kind of achievement, looking like a fool enjoying someone else’s misfortune.
Overall, he had some brains—but not much. Slightly better than Zhaocai, but only just.
Why were all Su descendants like this? Su Weisheng pondered briefly, then attributed it to his brother’s questionable bloodline.
“You want to tell him the truth?” You Sui asked eagerly.
Su Weisheng responded with the tiny shred of fatherly concern he possessed, “No, let him figure it out himself.”
“Oh, that won’t take long,” You Sui analyzed with arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “Considering how fascinated he is with the relics Yinzi left behind, it won’t be long before he discovers that he is actually the creator of this family’s first generation of egg-born children. And when he remembers today’s mockery—tsk… Poor Yinzi.” Despite saying “poor Yinzi”, his tone was full of schadenfreude.
Su Weisheng glanced at him coolly. “He wouldn’t have done something so outrageous if not for his excellent teacher.”
Sensing the impending reckoning, You Sui swiftly defended himself. “Alright, alright, I admit it—yes, I was involved. But I swear I didn’t deliberately egg him on. Besides, I thought bringing this up later would amuse you, so I helped him.”
“You think spawning a hybrid egg-born lineage would amuse me? I should just pack up both of you embarrassments and toss you out.” Su Weisheng casually threw a book at his face, then got up and headed to his bedroom.
But You Sui wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily. He caught the book and placed it on the sofa, then, just as Su Weisheng entered the room, swiftly grabbed his waist and spun him inside. Click—the door shut behind them.
Su Weisheng was caught off guard by the sudden attack; his body swayed, unable to react in time before he was lifted and placed on the low table in the bedroom.
“You Sui.” His voice was cold with warning as he bent his knee, striking the other’s abdomen.
The man let out a muffled grunt but didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he leaned further into Su Weisheng’s embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist, his face buried against his shoulder. Despite the pain, he exhaled sharply, chuckling with helpless amusement. “Don’t be mad, listen to me. The matter with Yinzi—I really didn’t do it to mess with you. My dear inspector, even if you want to sentence me to death, shouldn’t I at least be allowed a final appeal?”
You Sui’s hot breath brushed against his neck, making the porcelain-white skin flush slightly red. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Su Weisheng pushed the clingy head away and cast a sidelong glance, his expression composed and unhurried. “Fine, let me hear how you plan to explain yourself with those flowery words.”
His lover clearly didn’t believe him and was even prepared to turn this into some bedtime amusement. You Sui silently mourned for himself for a second, yet his hands held on even tighter. Clearing his throat, he made a sincere attempt to salvage his precarious standing in Su Weisheng’s eyes.
You Sui explained, “Yinzi’s obsession was to ensure the continuation of the Su lineage at all costs. I once talked to him about it, and you didn’t seem to care much about passing down the Su family name. But he gave me an unexpected answer.”
“What did he say?” Su Weisheng absentmindedly toyed with You Sui’s slightly curled short hair, idly cooperating with the conversation.
He said, “He is just an ordinary human, living only for a few short decades. He fears that he won’t live to see the day his father awakens, so he must leave something behind for you. He hopes that in the future, even if hundreds or thousands of years pass, as long as you wake up, you’ll see that the Su family still exists. And not just exists—but remains your sharp sword, your mighty spear, always by your side.
So, he took the most extreme measures to preserve the Su lineage. Each time he passed away, he would reincarnate immediately, just so he could meet you again in his next life.”
Su Weisheng’s fingers paused in their idle playing with You Sui’s hair. Lowering his gaze, he looked at him.
You Sui was staring at him without blinking. The sly, fox-like eyes that usually carried mischievous intent now shimmered with a quiet, delicate tenderness. His voice sank, slow and deliberate, as he spoke each word with measured care:
“I agreed to help him find the secret method because his sincerity moved me, and because we share the same belief, Sheng Sheng, I don’t want to be separated from you. And more than anything, I don’t want you to wake up one day only to find a world full of strangers.” As he spoke, he softly kissed the palm of Su Weisheng’s hand, murmuring, “I can’t bear it. My Sheng Sheng would be lonely.”
These words were spoken with raw honesty, laying his heart bare before the one he cherished.
And the truth was, it wasn’t wrong.
Even a figure as powerful and legendary as the High Priest, immortalized in history, was still a living, breathing person. His era belonged two hundred years in the past. His family, his friends, his enemies—they had all long turned to dust. When he awakened, the futuristic world before him had no connection to his existence.
No attachments, no love, no desires. Such a person would inevitably be consumed by emptiness, slowly becoming something monstrous, walking the path toward ruin.
Perhaps that was why he sought amusement wherever he could, teasing the younger ones around him, indulging in the few fleeting pleasures he had left—even going so far as to enthusiastically participate in variety shows.
And when Yuan Le followed after him, even though this little troublemaker would deliberately frighten him with talks of fate, even though he constantly teased him, calling him hopelessly romantic, there was still a rare moment when Su Weisheng’s heart softened, just for an instant.
His little troublemaker—the one person in this world he was truly close to.
Su Weisheng, for once, gently stroked his little troublemaker’s ear.
“Sheng Sheng, I really thought seeing so many descendants would make you happy. I may fool the whole world, but how could I ever bear to have a single ill intention toward you?” You Sui affectionately pressed his cheek against Su Weisheng’s palm, like a harmless canine creature seeking affection from its master. He sighed and complained, “Sheng Sheng, be a little kinder to your tamed little monster. Just a bit of warmth from you would be enough for me to cherish for a long time.”
Su Weisheng let out a barely perceptible hum and remarked, “Enough with the excessive sentimentality. Do you think I don’t know you? Everything you said before was true, but to claim there wasn’t even the slightest hint of mischief aimed at teasing me—now that’s impossible. You may be a tamed little monster, but you can’t help yourself; you love to bite your master just for fun.”
The atmosphere was quite nice, except his wife was utterly oblivious to romantic cues. You Sui sighed again, holding onto Su Weisheng tightly, drawing in the scent of his beloved. He asked, “So, you’re not angry anymore?”
“I was never truly angry in the first place. I just wanted to hear the truth behind all of this.” Su Weisheng raised an eyebrow and countered, “Do you really think I get provoked so easily?”
You Sui gritted his teeth. It was always like this. No matter how much he tried to conceal things, it was useless. As long as the High Priest performed even the slightest act, he could effortlessly unravel You Sui’s defenses, pulling out every last bit of information he wanted.
He was utterly defeated—and yet, he surrendered willingly.
Once the High Priest had extracted the truth he wanted, he wasted no time in expressing his distaste for You Sui’s clinginess. He patted his head, signaling that he wanted to leave, and casually remarked, “Are you a cat, a dog, or a fox? You keep rubbing against me all day long, it’s like you want to leave your scent on me.”
You Sui had no intention of letting go. He tightened his grip around Su Weisheng’s slender yet resilient waist and nuzzled his lips against his lover’s neck in an affectionate gesture, grumbling, “I don’t care. I put a lot of effort into helping your little one. You can’t be this heartless, Sheng Sheng. I deserve a reward.”
“What kind of reward do you want?” Su Weisheng asked, eyeing him sideways.
You Sui’s fox-like eyes blinked, shimmering with a mesmerizing glow, their upward tilt carrying an unmistakable trace of mischief. He lowered his head and pressed a nearly reverent kiss to Su Weisheng’s cool, thin lips, murmuring softly, “You already said I’m a cat or a dog—of course, I want to leave my own mark on my keeper.”
Su Weisheng’s lips were suddenly caught off guard by a playful bite. He frowned slightly, about to say something, but before he could speak, that wicked little fox had already casually bent down onto one knee.
Thud. The small jade hammer, exuding an air of authority, was mercilessly tossed to the ground.
A long moment passed before Su Weisheng let out an involuntary hiss.
In recent days, the atmosphere in the livestream room had grown increasingly peculiar, not because of the guests, but because the show’s director had been acting more cryptic than ever.
Take today, for example. By 4:30, the guests had already gathered on the sofa, waiting for the broadcast to start. Sunny was chatting with Old Lu, the top star was bickering with investor Lu, and Su Weisheng was casually enjoying tea and snacks. Meanwhile, Director You shamelessly sat beside him, sipping tea, completely ignoring the strange looks from everyone else.
Su Weisheng, slightly overheated from being crowded, asked, “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”
You Sui touched the corner of his reddened lips and sighed gloomily, “I stuffed myself eating earlier, now it hurts. Thought I’d drink some tea to cool down.”
Su Weisheng: “…” You were the one who insisted on performing a deep swallow. How is this my problem? He rubbed his brow, a mix of exasperation and amusement flickering across his face. In a rare moment of indulgence, he relented, “Fine, just drink here then.”
Hearing the exchange, Su Ran curiously leaned in, peering around. “Great-grandfather, what are you two talking about?”
You Sui, ever nonchalant, interjected smoothly, “Talking about how your great-grandmother is overheated. Big grandson, make sure to get some cooling medicine later.” His tone carried an unmistakable touch of smugness.
Everyone stared at him as if they’d been struck by lightning. Great-grandmother? Who…who was the great-grandmother? They’d long suspected there was something going on between these two, but Director You, aren’t you being a little too bold claiming that title for yourself?
Suffering under the tyranny of the so-called “great-grandmother”, Su Ran pulled a sour expression and answered grudgingly, “Got it. I’ll do it after the stream.”
Damn it. I couldn’t win, so I have to admit defeat, he thought bitterly.
Fortunately, You Sui didn’t linger in his smugness for long before heading off to deal with actual business. As soon as he left, Su Ran immediately wanted to complain to his great-grandfather about his lack of inspiration in writing lyrics. However, he soon realized that Su Weisheng was entirely engrossed in his phone and hadn’t paid him any attention at all.
His great-grandson curiously peeked over, only to spot “Su Ning” in the chat interface. Instantly, his face darkened, and he sulked back into his seat, fuming. Damn it. One day, he’d get rid of that scheming guy who was constantly fighting for attention!
Lu Huanjin gave him a puzzled look. “What’s up with you? You look like a resentful husband.”
“Get lost!” Su Ran shot him a glare, too drained even to engage in their usual banter.
Su Weisheng, meanwhile, hadn’t noticed his great-grandson’s irritation at all. He was busy setting up a chatroom function for the Underworld app through a system bug. Using permission chains, he linked it directly to his brain and pulled Yan Wan, Su Ning, and Bug into a group chat.
This was a team he had specifically assembled for Bug to help him gain experience points in flipping through the Book of Life and Death more efficiently.
Exploited against his will, Bug privately messaged him in exasperation: Didn’t you already investigate Su Ning’s situation? Why do you still need to boost the permissions on the Book of Life and Death?
Su Weisheng: Who said I was looking into the Book of Life and Death just for Su Ning? When will my permissions be high enough to investigate Si Ming and Yuan Le? You lot will only get to rest when that day comes.
Bug, utterly defeated: You’d have to overhaul the entire Underworld before you even have a chance at reaching the highest permissions!
No matter how much they complained, the reality of their forced labor wouldn’t change. Bug was thoroughly annoyed, but Yan Wan and Su Ning seemed rather pleased. One saw it as a rare chance to prove himself to the High Priest, while the other was utterly fascinated by the peculiar, specialized realm of the Underworld. While working with the team, Su Ning still managed to keep investigating the hidden treasures in the Su family’s forbidden grounds.
However, Bug did remind him of one thing: he hadn’t opened the Underworld app in quite a while. Now that he needed to grind points to boost his permissions, it was time to make use of the Underworld livestream again.
Because Great-grandfather had been too busy to pay attention to his great-grandson, the neglected top star had been in a foul mood for the past few days.
Late at night, after the livestream had ended and all the guests and staff had gone to rest, Su Ran sat alone by the window, irritably letting the cool night breeze brush against him. He looked down at the mess of nonsensical lyrics he had written and, with frustration, crumpled them up and tossed them into the trash.
Annoying.
Knock, knock, knock. A sudden tapping sounded at the window.
Su Ran opened it and found himself face-to-face with Lu Huanjin, impeccably dressed in a suit. He raised an eyebrow and asked impatiently, “What do you want?”
Lu Huanjin casually glanced at the discarded paper on the table, then lifted the bag in his hand with a grin. “Since you can’t sleep anyway, why not come out and grab a late-night snack?”
Seeing Su Ran remain unmoved, he coaxed further with a teasing smile, “Come on, come on. You’re stuck in your room, and you’re not writing anything worthwhile anyway—might as well eat. Didn’t you teach me before? Eating high-calorie food is the fastest way to spark inspiration.”
Su Ran scoffed but, unusually, didn’t refuse. He stepped out, hands in his pockets, lifting his chin with haughty defiance. “Fine, I’ll humor you. Consider it payback for that screenshot of mine that accidentally got leaked. But just because we’re eating together doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
Lu Huanjin chuckled. “Of course. Who says enemies can’t share a meal?”
Like two childish grade-schoolers, they first laid out the conditions before finally sitting down at the pavilion, satisfied, to enjoy a barbecue together.
Su Ran ate absentmindedly, while Lu Huanjin noticed that he kept glancing toward his great-grandfather’s bedroom, where the light was still on. He reminded him, “Stop looking. Su Ning’s not there. It’s your great-grandmother inside.”
“Who said I was looking over there? Don’t act like you’re so clever!” Su Ran bristled.
Lu Huanjin countered, “Then what’s bothering you?”
“I’m frustrated because I can’t write my lyrics. Is that a problem?” Su Ran insisted, scrambling for an excuse. “If I don’t finish my lyrics, I won’t get my final payment, so of course I’m annoyed. But a tone-deaf guy like you wouldn’t understand my pain.”
Lu Huanjin chuckled. “Sure, I’m tone-deaf. But back when we were in the group, we wrote lyrics together, didn’t we? You even said you wanted me as your exclusive lyricist. Now, you’re turning on me?”
“Well, you were the one who left! You left, and now you’re bringing up the past…” Su Ran snapped, then midway through, realized his tone was off. He quickly shifted back to a prideful attitude. “Anyway, you’ve spent years mingling with businessmen at parties. I bet whatever creative spark you had is long gone.”
“That’s not necessarily true…”
“Tch!”
“No way. Tonight, you have to write your lyrics. I refuse to believe I, a gold-standard lyricist, can’t prove it to you!”
For some reason, the conversation had veered into whether or not Lu Huanjin could still write songs. One was adamant about proving himself, while the other was determined to tear him down. In the end, emotions ran high. Su Ran slammed his unfinished lyrics and melody onto the table, declaring in a firm voice, “Write—right now! If you can come up with something decent, I won’t just treat you to dinner, I’ll bow down and call you my master. From now on, I’ll even hire you as my personal lyricist!”
“This is what you said yourself…” Lu Huanjin’s smiling eyes remained fixed on him, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Su Ran had been sulking, but the intensity of that gaze unexpectedly scorched him, forcing him to instinctively look away, though his mouth remained stubbornly defiant. “Fine, let’s see just how good you really are…”
“Then sit closer. I glanced at the lyrics and already have inspiration.” Lu Huanjin beckoned him over.
Su Ran hadn’t expected inspiration to hit so quickly. He eyed him skeptically for a few seconds, unwilling to admit defeat. Still, his competitive nature won over. He pulled out a chair, scooting in beside Lu Huanjin with a probing look. “Alright, let’s hear it.”
Deep into the night, the courtyard was dimly lit by sparse candlelight. The distinguished and composed investor Lu and the youthful, spirited top star sat around a small stone table, the remains of their barbecue still scattered about. Whatever Su Ran was talking about had him so animated that his sharp features brimmed with excitement, his expressions vibrant and full of life. Lu Huanjin simply listened with a quiet smile, occasionally adding a remark, his eyes brimming with unconcealed warmth.
As dawn neared, the lyrics and melody came together naturally.
Su Ran cradled his guitar, adjusting the tuning, occasionally humming along to the rhythm. The raw lyrics gradually flowed smoother, his voice easing into a heartfelt melody; an intimate song about familial companionship spilling out gently, softening even the icy midnight air.
Lu Huanjin listened, indulging in the moment. When Su Ran finished singing, he smiled and casually reminded him, “Don’t forget the promise you made last night.”
【I won’t just treat you to dinner, I’ll bow down and call you my master. From now on, I’ll even hire you as my personal lyricist!】
Such a perfect atmosphere, such an ideal opportunity. If Su Ran simply took one step forward, they could mend everything between them.
Lu Huanjin’s smile deepened. He had finally waited long enough for the perfect opening.
Yet several minutes passed without a single response. When he finally lifted his gaze, he saw Su Ran staring absentmindedly toward the east wing, clutching his guitar, his eyes locked in place.
The door had swung open, and Su Weisheng, yawning, emerged from inside, seemingly heading to the kitchen to find something to eat.
The very next second, the top star bolted like an excited husky spotting its master, completely ignoring whatever Lu Huanjin had been saying. In an instant, he clutched his guitar and dashed straight toward Su Weisheng.
“Great-grandfather, I finished my song!” Su Ran proudly announced. “It’s not like that petty diss track from last time. This is the official theme song for a movie! You can’t dismiss me this time!”
Su Weisheng’s yawn was abruptly interrupted by this unexpected intruder. He looked at Su Ran, who had clearly stayed up all night and was now brimming with excitement. Chuckling, he continued toward the kitchen, asking, “So, are you planning to sing it for me right now?”
His great-grandson nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I just finished writing it, so you have to be the first to hear it!”
Su Weisheng had just stepped into the kitchen. He casually pulled a dessert from the fridge while eyeing the eager little pup of a great-grandson before him. Realizing he had been neglecting him lately, he finally gave a faintly indulgent nod and agreed, “Alright, you sing, and I’ll eat.”
Inside the dining room, the great-grandfather enjoyed his meal while the top star cradled his beloved guitar, softly singing his song. Each lyric was dedicated to companionship, as if proving that his inspiration and music stemmed entirely from his one true family bond.
Su Weisheng swallowed a bite of cake, occasionally reaching out to pat his great-grandson’s head in response.
A perfect picture of familial warmth and devotion.
Outside the dining room, Lu Huanjin was fuming, his mouth nearly twisting in frustration. He let out a long sigh, even beginning to doubt his own existence. Was Su Ran’s brain completely empty? How could he be this ridiculous?
The lyrics they had painstakingly composed together over a romantic, late-night songwriting session… And yet, the moment he saw his great-grandfather, Su Ran had instantly transformed into an overexcited puppy wagging his tail, forgetting everything else. All he wanted was to parade their hard-earned song like a prize and seek attention.
Damn it. His brain wasn’t empty. It was just entirely occupied by his great-grandfather!
The ever-strategic and decisive investor Lu was on the verge of being completely emotionally drained by this “great-grandfather-brain” madness.
Just then, Director You, who had been waiting in the bedroom for his wife to return, finally heard the commotion and came over.
Inside, the top star had just finished singing and was about to shove aside his wild great-grandson rival, Su Ning, in an attempt to reclaim his great-grandfather’s favor—until Director You walked in, his expression dark. Unlike Lu Huanjin, who merely stood at the doorway, You Sui wasted no time in forcefully booting Su Ran and his guitar out.
“Big great-grandson, stop interrupting your great-grandfather and great-grandmother’s private time, got it?” He smirked, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes, then pointed mercilessly at the guitar in Su Ran’s arms. “And besides, your great-grandfather has no interest in songs. If you want to compete for attention, at least bring something with actual weight.”
Su Ran glared, furious yet unable to retaliate, forced to watch helplessly as You Sui whisked his great-grandfather away before he had even had the chance to receive a single word of praise.
Lu Huanjin turned back to find Su Ran clutching his guitar, head hung low, looking entirely like a dejected puppy abandoned in the rain. Unable to resist the urge to offer some words of comfort, he stepped forward. “You—”
Before he could finish, Su Ran abruptly slammed his fist against the door, lifted his chin in defiance, and spat out viciously, “Is there any affection I can’t win back? Ridiculous! What Su Ning? What You Sui? I am my great-grandfather’s only legitimate grandson. With just a little effort, I can ensure that wild great-grandson never sets foot here again. And as for great-grandmother—he’s destined to be cast aside eventually!”
With that, he stormed off with his guitar, seething.
Lu Huanjin: “…”
Investor Lu fell silent. What was with this expression that screamed of a full-on ancestral power struggle?
And yet, it seemed the top star was truly committed to treating himself as the sole rightful heir to a family drama. Because just two days later, after making a trip out, he returned and brazenly marched straight into Su Weisheng’s study. Without even sparing a glance at You Sui, he tossed his bank card directly onto the desk.
“Here, the final payment for the theme song—three million, after tax, at a friendly discount.” Su Ran lifted his chin smugly at Su Weisheng, then pointed at You Sui, who was watching the spectacle unfold. “From now on, I’ll be the one supporting you. Three million in pocket money every month—so hurry up and kick out this freeloading, stingy ex-husband who’s been mooching off our family!”
Su Weisheng: “…?”
You Sui: “…?”
Wow. He really was thriving. He had even learned how to use money as a weapon to fight for favor and take down the great-grandmother.
You Sui narrowed his fox-like eyes, preparing to teach this overly ambitious Su Ran a lesson. But before he could act, Su Weisheng, without hesitation, casually pocketed the card and turned to him. “Le’er, leave for now. Let’s not see each other for the next month.”
You Sui: “???”
Hahahahahahahhahahahahahah😂😂