A Devoted Daughter

The Han Lan Charity Foundation had only just been established, and everything was still in the exploratory phase.

Unlike in the future, where donors’ names would often have one character replaced with an asterisk, here, the donors generally didn’t hide their real names.

Occasionally, there were a few anonymous donors, but the amounts varied.

Because of this, more and more people began to question Lin Mo.

Lin Jiajun trusted Lin Mo, but this kind of public opinion was definitely troublesome.

“This guy must have studied journalism or something. This post is getting worse and worse,” Lin Mo said, swiping through his phone screen as he looked at the post full of flashy words but riddled with logical flaws. He even had the leisure to add a comment.

“Hey, you’re even commenting on it? How’s this supposed to work? With people talking like this, how do you think everyone will see you?” Lin Jiajun was clearly sensitive to these things, so his first reaction was to remind Lin Mo to handle it as soon as possible.

He almost wanted to snatch the phone away and post a clarification on Lin Mo’s behalf right then and there.

But Lin Mo remained calm and unhurried, handing the phone back to Lin Jiajun with a smile and a wave of his hand.

“Jiajun, have you ever heard of a certain kind of gamble?”

He turned his head slightly, his eyes carrying a calm that seemed to see through everything.

“You know exactly what cards your opponent is holding, but he has no idea about your hand and can only guess blindly, betting that your cards must be three of a kind.”

Lin Mo paused briefly, his voice low but steady, like a calming anchor sinking into Lin Jiajun’s heart.

“At a time like this, if you happen to be holding two aces, shouldn’t you just let the bullets fly a little longer and wait for the big win?”

No one knew the bottom cards better than Lin Mo himself.

That made sense.

The tension in Lin Jiajun’s nerves instantly eased, and he exhaled deeply. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve known Lao Mo for a long time, and I’ve never seen him take a real hit. Honestly, I’m kind of looking forward to seeing him stumble once.”

A lazy voice came from nearby. Fang Jun had somehow wandered over and plopped down on Lin Mo’s desk, casually slapping Lin Mo’s shoulder.

Hearing this, Lin Mo raised an eyebrow and gave him a light kick—of course, not too hard.

“Die, you brat!”

“Ouch!” Fang Jun yelped dramatically as he slid off the desk.

Just then, the class bell rang sharply, cutting through the noise in the hallway.

At the podium, the teacher was droning on, spitting words everywhere, while the students below were half-asleep.

Lin Mo propped his chin on one hand, his gaze fixed outside the window, his fingers rhythmically tapping the desk beneath.

The class wasn’t exactly boring—at least, Lin Mo was handling it with ease.

But his mind was still occupied with one question: who was so relentlessly targeting him?

Before he could figure it out,

a new post appeared on the forum.

No pictures, just text.

“Freeloader Lin Mo, Taking Three Million from a Sugar Mama!”

Lin Mo was completely unaware of all this. It wasn’t until after class that the boys in the back row started making a ruckus.

Only then did Lin Mo pull out his phone and carefully check what else the guy had to say.

The moment he opened the forum, the new post flashed across his screen.

The title alone was eye-catching enough.

But the account that posted it wasn’t the same one that questioned Lin Mo about not donating money.

The new post’s author claimed to be a student from Class Seven, speaking with absolute certainty. They said they happened to be passing by the corridor and overheard Lin Mo accepting a bank card from a girl—with the exact amount of three million yuan.

The post was full of exaggerations and embellishments, painting Lin Mo as nothing more than a pretty boy who bent over backwards for money.

Lin Mo raised an eyebrow slightly and scrolled down to read the replies.

But the tone was completely different from what he expected.

“Three million? Who do they think they’re kidding? I burn more than that in paper money for my ancestors during the New Year! If you want to sponsor our Mo God, it’s gotta be at least that much!” Someone even attached a meme of a ten-million-yuan check.

“The person above is thinking too small. What’s Mo God’s worth? Top of the school, genius-level IQ! I’ll throw out a number: eight million eight hundred eighty-eight thousand! Lucky numbers, you know?”

“LOL, three million? What can that even do? Not enough for us ‘poisonous milk powder’ players to upgrade a full 16+ set. Not even enough to tie Mo God’s shoes!”

“No offense, but do rich ladies these days really keep it this down-to-earth? Asking for a friend—strong, healthy, easy to support here. Any rich ladies interested?”

All sorts of chaotic comments poured in, but no one believed the story about Lin Mo being sponsored.

Just then, Lin Jiajun looked over again.

“Three million? Seriously?”

When Chu Miaomiao handed over the bank card, Lin Jiajun hadn’t arrived yet.

So he was naturally curious.

Lin Mo’s gaze remained fixed on his phone, his tone as casual as if they were talking about the weather.

“The card is real. It’s Chu Miaomiao’s secret stash.”

“Holy crap!” Lin Jiajun’s eyes went wide in an instant. “So you really got... sponsored?”

His voice wasn’t loud or soft, just enough to carry to the back seat.

Chu Miaomiao, sitting behind Lin Mo, perked up at that.

“Sponsored? Who sponsored who? What’s going on?”

She excitedly grabbed the back of Lin Mo’s chair, poking her head forward, her face practically screaming, “Spill it, spill it!”

Lin Mo turned his head slowly, meeting her sparkling eyes.

“They say I was sponsored by you with three million.”

Hearing this, Chu Miaomiao got even more excited. “Really? Can I sponsor you with three million? Then I won’t buy Mom a gift.”

Chu Lintian: Such a filial daughter!

Lin Mo raised his hand and lightly flicked Chu Miaomiao’s smooth forehead with his finger.

“Hm?”

Chu Miaomiao winced, covering her forehead, but her eyes still shone brightly as she looked at him.

“Think you can sponsor me with just three million?” Lin Mo lifted his chin and tilted the phone screen toward her, pointing at the top comment.

“See that? Market price starts at ten million.”

“Ah?” Chu Miaomiao’s face instantly fell. She covered her forehead and sighed in disappointment. “Ten million… I don’t have that kind of money.”

Her expression was like she’d just missed out on a multi-billion-dollar deal.

Lin Jiajun watched from the side, barely holding back a laugh, and chimed in, “I’m telling you, even if there really was ten million, Lin Mo wouldn’t let you sponsor him, right?”

As soon as those words were spoken, Chu Miaomiao felt even more disheartened.

Lin Mo, however, put away his phone and cast a faint glance at Lin Jiajun.

"That’s not necessarily true."

Hearing this, Chu Miaomiao’s eyes instantly lit up.

Then, from the other side, a crisp and melodious voice rang out.

“Ten million? I think I have that. I wonder if I could sponsor our school’s top student?”

Lin Mo immediately recognized the voice as Jiang Yunlu, the young lady making her sponsorship declaration.

But Lin Mo shook his head, “That won’t do. Miaomiao gets ten million, but Miss Jiang, you’ll need to offer thirty million.”

“Deal. Can we start tomorrow?”

Lin Mo was caught off guard. “Wait, you actually have thirty million?”

Jiang Yunlu nodded, “Of course. Ten million to be happy, ten million to be joyful, and ten million to be healthy.”