Fang Zhiyi didn’t join the crowd. Instead, he changed into shabby clothes and returned home. The moment he stepped inside, both Fang's Father and Fang's Mother were stunned. Fang's Mother reacted first, grabbing him and demanding, "Where have you been?" Seeing her about to lose her temper, Fang Zhiyi glanced nervously at his silent father and his uncle, who was idly cracking sunflower seeds, then frantically signaled his mother with his eyes.
Understanding his hint, Fang's Mother dragged him outside.
"Mom, take this quickly." Fang Zhiyi pulled out three hundred yuan from his pocket. "I’ve been working in Guangzhou. It wasn’t easy coming back, so keep this money safe."
Fang's Mother’s eyes lit up—it had been ages since she’d seen money!
As for Fang Zhiyi saying he had to leave again, she didn’t even pay attention.
"What’s up with my nephew? Rushing back only to rush off again?" The uncle walked to the doorway, still munching on seeds. Fang's Mother instinctively clutched her pocket tighter. "That good-for-nothing just came back to check on us."
"Oh?" The uncle’s tone was loaded with meaning.
But seeing the irritation on his sister’s face, he dusted off his hands and said, "Alright, I’ll head home too." Without another word, he left. Fang's Mother glanced at her husband’s dark expression, then at her departing brother. Gritting her teeth, she didn’t try to stop him.
Her brother was just another leech, always coming to her for money.
After stirring the pot, Fang Zhiyi disappeared again, this time to focus on developing more advanced technology before the foreigners could.
He listed out learning machines, electronic dictionaries, DVD players, and more. Some were too complex, so he set them aside. Fortunately, the technical department at the machinery factory had become much more proactive since their income increased. Even the projects Fang Zhiyi abandoned, they picked up and studied.
The reputation of Dahuangmi Company soared, especially among students. Nearly all electronic learning tools on the market now came from Dahuangmi. Thanks to the successful transformation, Lin Jianguo received special commendation.
Through Little Hei, Fang Zhiyi learned the consequences of that three hundred yuan. Without the threat of his uncle’s fists, Fang's Father ordered Fang's Mother to hand over the money. When she refused, they fought. In the chaos, Second Son suddenly erupted, snatched the cash, and fled the house.
Fang's Mother was shoved by Fang's Father, slamming into the windowsill and bleeding heavily. Cold-hearted, Fang's Father simply left to chase Second Son, leaving her behind. A neighbor eventually took her to the hospital.
Fang's maternal relatives came to make a scene once more, beating Fang's Father badly. Determined to divorce, he saw no point in staying—his cash cow was gone, and the selfish old woman disgusted him.
But Fang Zhiyi fulfilled his duty, sending his mother the bare minimum each month. When Fang's Father saw the remittance slip, he changed his mind again. He knew Fang Zhiyi was closer to his mother; if they divorced, Fang Zhiyi would never support him. Second Son had run away, Third Son was in juvenile detention—he needed security!
So the old couple continued living together, seething with mutual hatred. They frequently fought over Fang Zhiyi’s remittances. After Fang Zhiyi secretly returned once more to give Fang's Mother money and stir the pot, she became determined to divorce. To Fang Zhiyi’s surprise, Fang's Father snapped and broke her leg.
Even Little Hei shuddered at the sight.
"What kind of family is this?" Little Hei muttered, equal parts disgusted and horrified.
The day Third Son was released from prison, no one came for him.
He trudged home to find a wrecked yard and his crippled mother in bed. Soon, he took over Second Son’s role—the same role Fang Zhiyi had once filled.
After crippling his wife, Fang's Father grew silent and withdrawn. No one knew what he was thinking. Third Son watched him with nothing but fear.
It was around this time that Fang Zhiyi stopped sending money.
Fang's Father, expecting another remittance slip, froze when told there was none. Enraged, he stormed home and attacked the bedridden Fang's Mother, terrifying Third Son into silence.
The Fang family had hit rock bottom.
Meanwhile, Fang Zhiyi was testing pagers. Hearing Little Hei’s report, he replied indifferently, "Still too light. They owe three lives."
In those days, a missing person wasn’t big news. Fang Zhiyi stayed behind the scenes, focusing on research while his sworn sister Lin Xiaowei took the spotlight. Yu Duoyu could step in if needed, so the Fang family never found him.
One day, Fang Zhiyi had just returned to his dorm when a call came from Guangzhou. The person on the line, speaking broken Mandarin, asked, "Boss, there’s a beggar here claiming to be your brother."
Fang Zhiyi simply said, "Oh? I don’t have a brother. But you can send him to a shelter."
"Understood, Boss." The voice on the other end was familiar—Second Son. He’d actually made it to Guangzhou to find Fang Zhiyi, though it had taken him much longer than expected. Who knew what he’d endured along the way?
Didn’t they used to look down on him? Why come crawling back now? Old habits die hard, huh? Fang Zhiyi flicked the hanging lamp in front of him and chuckled.
When Second Son was sent back home, the Fang family underwent another upheaval.
Third Son, consumed by fear and rage, finally snapped. While Fang's Father slept, he struck him with a hoe. The police arrested Third Son again, though this time as an adult. Fang's Father survived but was left paralyzed. Second Son numbly tended to both parents, moving them into the same room. Every day, Fang's Mother screeched curses at Fang's Father, while Second Son covered his ears and crouched by the door.
Their uncle came by, hoping to squeeze something out of them. Taking one look at the scene, he snorted and left without even checking on his sister.
Fang Zhiyi resumed the remittances—this time, Second Son collected them.
The amount was just enough to keep them alive.
As color TVs became widespread and Dahuangmi’s pagers entered the market two years ahead of schedule, Fang Zhiyi’s hidden fortune skyrocketed.
But then he handed the company entirely to Lin Xiaowei and retired outright.
"Host, what are you doing?" Little Hei watched Fang Zhiyi’s actions with curiosity.
Fang Zhiyi muttered, "I’ve wanted to try this for a while."
"Buy property in Shanghai."
"Buy a courtyard home in Beijing."
"Enter the stock market in ’98."
"Go all-in on Moutai stocks in ’01."
"Buy Bitcoin in ’09, sell in ’11."
"Gold’s this cheap? Buy!"
Fang Zhiyi began a spending spree, snapping up investments years ahead of time.
Little Hei watched him, grinning so hard his eyes turned to slits. "Madness. Absolute madness."
The Fang family’s fate wasn’t pretty, but Fang Zhiyi’s regular payments ensured they survived. Second Son grew as silent as his father, occasionally staring blankly at their battered TV, watching reports about the machinery factory—now merged with Dahuangmi—becoming an industry leader.
After being released from prison, Third Son never returned home. Instead, he followed a fellow inmate he’d met behind bars, planning to pull off a major job overseas. But he was betrayed and sold to a criminal organization abroad, becoming a stateless black-market laborer.
Little Hei let out a faint sigh as he watched Fang Zhiyi’s closed eyes.
"Host, do you want to return to your world?"
Fang Zhiyi turned to look at him. "Is that possible?"
Little Hei lowered his head, then raised it again. "Probably not."
Fang Zhiyi pressed his eyes against the telescope, watching a family in the park. A smile curled at the corners of his lips.
"Look, Little Hei—that’s me as a child!"