The Corgi’s test results came back quickly—a broken leg, and the wound was quite large. As long as there was no infection, the dog’s life wouldn’t be in danger.
“Sir, in its current condition, surgery is still necessary,” the veterinarian briefly explained to Ye Shuang. She remembered him—last time, he had spent ten thousand on a stray kitten. Most people wouldn’t be willing to part with that kind of money.
“How much?” Ye Shuang asked.
“Well… the surgery and treatment costs will be around sixty-five hundred. If you opt for conservative treatment, without considering restoring leg functionality, it would be about five hundred,” the vet said. “If it’s not your dog, conservative treatment might be a good option, given how expensive surgery is.”
“Go ahead with the surgery,” Ye Shuang said directly.
He had grown somewhat attached to this Corgi. Besides, the little guy had been beaten up protecting his car, and with the whole business of finding Yezi, Ye Shuang couldn’t just turn a blind eye.
“Alright.” The vet wasn’t surprised—after all, he’d spent ten thousand on a stray kitten without hesitation.
The rest was straightforward. Ye Shuang paid the fees and had the vet admit the Corgi for observation. After its IV drip, the Corgi seemed calmer, lying quietly in its crate with its eyes closed, sleeping.
“The painkiller shot probably helped, right?” Tang Keke looked at the Corgi in the crate and couldn’t help asking, “Was it from a fight?”
“Maybe,” Ye Shuang replied.
After spending some time at the pet hospital, Ye Shuang took the two girls home. It was already eleven at night when they arrived. If he hadn’t found a 24-hour pet hospital, they wouldn’t even have found a vet.
“Dad, you’re back!” Yezi ran over and said.
“Mm.” Ye Shuang reached out and ruffled Yezi’s hair. “Aren’t you asleep yet, Yezi?”
“I just took a nap.”
“Go back to your room and sleep. You have school tomorrow.” Ye Shuang smiled gently.
“Okay!”
Just as Yezi was about to head back to her room, she suddenly turned around. “Oh, Dad, there’s a parent-teacher meeting in my class this Friday…”
Parent-teacher meeting?
The unfamiliar term made Ye Shuang pause for a few seconds. He scratched his cheek with his finger. “A parent-teacher meeting, huh.”
It felt like a word he’d almost never heard. Probably not since college.
“Do you have time, Dad?” Yezi asked.
“This Friday…” Ye Shuang thought for a moment. “Is it in the afternoon?”
“Yeah!”
“I can make it,” Bai Yuyou suddenly chimed in from beside him. “Mom has time.”
Since Silver Mountain Academy let out at three or four in the afternoon, as long as she didn’t have club activities, she had plenty of time to attend the parent-teacher meeting.
“Great!” Yezi beamed.
“No, no, no. It’s a bit odd for you to go,” Ye Shuang quickly stopped Bai Yuyou. Given her age, showing up at a parent-teacher meeting for Yezi would be too strange, no matter how you looked at it.
“It’s fine, Ye Shuang. I’ll be a good mother,” Bai Yuyou said with a serious nod.
Where did this sudden seriousness come from? It’s not that I think you can’t be a good mother…
“Fine, I’ll go too. I shouldn’t have any problem with that,” Ye Shuang said. But from the look of it, Yuyou was determined to go.
“Great! Mom and Dad together!” Yezi seemed really happy.
Seeing the little girl’s joyful expression, Ye Shuang knew he had to go.
“I can’t exactly be a parent who spoils the fun,” Ye Shuang thought to himself. Even if it sounded odd, Yezi was truly his daughter.
...
Time flew, and it was already Friday.
Ye Shuang arrived at the company early and started busying himself. Since he’d promised Yezi to attend the afternoon parent-teacher meeting, he’d moved most of his work to the morning or postponed it to the next day.
“If Little Fish were here, I’d probably be more efficient,” Ye Shuang thought as he looked over the documents. Kou Kou was his personal assistant for daily matters, but far less capable at handling work tasks compared to An Shiyu.
“What are those two up to now?”
Ye Shuang sat in his chair, thinking for a few seconds, then pulled out his phone. But it was quiet—no messages from either of them.
The only message was from several days ago. Anshi Yi had sent a selfie of herself and An Shiyu carrying large bags, captioned—
[Just went zero-dollar shopping with Kuisangti. Another free day, God damn it.]
Were those two actually out there doing “zero-dollar shopping”?
“They really don’t let me rest, even when they’re abroad,” Ye Shuang muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set his phone aside.
As he continued reading the documents, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it and saw a message from Chen Qin.
Chen Qin: Honey, has my belly gotten any bigger?
Chen Qin: photo.jpg
Ye Shuang looked at it, paused for a few seconds.
Ye Shuang: Why are you showing me your chest?
Chen Qin: Oh, sent the wrong one.
Ye Shuang wondered if Chen Qin was doing this on purpose. Even in pregnancy, she couldn’t behave herself.
They chatted for a bit, then Chen Qin stopped messaging. She knew Ye Shuang was still working—after all, she understood how busy he was in his position, even though she’d already delegated some of her own work.
Once the phone went quiet, Ye Shuang handled his tasks until it was noon.
He didn’t even eat lunch, working straight until four in the afternoon.
“Let’s stop here for now. I’ll double-check these contracts later, Kou Kou. You go over those documents first.”
“Got it, Boss Ye.”
Kou Kou stood nearby but seemed hesitant. “Um, Boss Ye…”
“Hm?”
“Do you need to eat something?” Kou Kou pointed to a table where a cold meal sat untouched.
“I am a bit hungry.”
Now that he’d stopped, Ye Shuang could feel his stomach rumbling. He pointed at the food. “Bring it over for me to eat.”
“Boss Ye, I can heat it up for you, or go down to the cafeteria and get a fresh serving.”
“No need. It hasn’t gone bad.”
Ye Shuang had Kou Kou hand it over, and he started eating right there. Being cold didn’t bother him at all.
As he ate, Ye Shuang pulled out his phone to check the agreed time. He’d need to leave soon for Yezi’s parent-teacher meeting.
“This is my first time. Should I change clothes to make a better impression?” Ye Shuang wondered. He glanced at his formal wear—too stuffy for school.
“Eh, it’s probably fine. I don’t have time to change anyway,” he decided.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
ts me of treason?" "Correct. The host must return to the capital and gradually build up influence." "Wait—I have half a million soldiers, and you want me to go back to the capital to 'build influence'?" "Host, you are currently the Northern Garrison General, loyal to the Great Xia Dynasty." "Of course I am loyal to Great Xia! Absolutely loyal!" "But you keep referring to yourself as 'We'..." "Never mind the details! Summon all the regional commanders and military officers! We suspect treacherous officials are manipulating the court! They shall march with Us to the capital and purge the corrupt!" "......"
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
