Bastard 01

"What about your disciple?" Little Hei suddenly asked.

"He made his own choice. That kid has grown quite a bit," Fang Zhiyi remarked with a sigh. "Makes me feel old."

Little Hei silently handed over the storyline.

Fang Zhiyi, the third and youngest son of the Fang family, had always been doted on more than his eldest brother and second sister—a privilege that nurtured his arrogant and unruly nature.

From stealing eggs from neighbors to trade for candy, to tearing up his second sister’s study notes to make paper airplanes, Fang Zhiyi grew up causing trouble.

By seventeen, he was already mingling with local troublemakers, lured into gambling and accumulating massive debts. When debt collectors came knocking, his father collapsed in distress, while his mother begged door-to-door for loans to bail him out. Yet, Fang Zhiyi showed no remorse—instead, he gambled again, losing repeatedly until the family’s savings were drained.

Soon, he racked up another mountain of debt. Loan sharks arrived, and in the chaos, Eldest Brother Fang shielded him, only to have his leg shattered, leaving him permanently disabled. His father was hospitalized again—this time, he didn’t survive. His mother passed soon after. Second Sister Fang, desperate to settle his debts, married a widower, using the dowry to clear Fang Zhiyi’s name.

Still, Fang Zhiyi didn’t change. Then came a stroke of luck: their home was marked for demolition, and with the compensation money, he resumed his carefree life, living lavishly with his girlfriend, Wang Qianqian.

Miraculously, his reckless ventures even turned a profit—though he never spared a thought for his crippled brother or faraway sister, indulging only himself.

Wang Qianqian was… not the brightest.

Like the time she shattered a jade bracelet in a store, or when her car rolled backward into another vehicle, only for her to snap, "Yes, I reversed poorly, but you rear-ended me—so it’s your fault!"

The crowning idiocy? Buying an outrageously expensive vase, insisting it was an antique. Fang Zhiyi had it appraised—only to discover it was a fake. He beat Wang Qianqian black and blue, but she sobbed, blaming him for getting it "switched" during the appraisal.

Still, when Fang Zhiyi learned she was pregnant, he married her. Not long after, he suddenly collapsed and died—ending his wretched life. Wang Qianqian was arrested soon after: for poisoning him.

"Em… this guy was a real piece of work, huh?" Fang Zhiyi mused.

Little Hei nodded. "Compared to you, he was downright pathetic."

"Enough chatter. You’re holding back details, aren’t you?"

Little Hei admitted, "True. Wang Qianqian had a friend, Gao Jie, who fed her terrible advice and excelled at spreading rumors."

The next scene showed Gao Jie watching Wang Qianqian being hauled away by police, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"I don’t really get what she gained from it," Little Hei said.

Fang Zhiyi smirked. "Gained? You don’t understand the concept of ‘frenemies,’ do you?"

He glanced down at his clothes, then looked up—only to see his mother standing before him.

"Third Son, I’ve paid your debts. You mustn’t gamble again!" Her face was lined with wrinkles, her white hair disheveled.

Fang Zhiyi cursed the original owner inwardly but wore a repentant expression. "Mom, I was wrong. I won’t do it again."

She studied him, distrust clear in her eyes—she knew her son too well. With a sigh, she left.

Stepping outside, Fang Zhiyi saw Second Sister Fang doing handicrafts—extra work after her job to help repay debts. She lowered her head when she noticed him, silent. Words failed her when it came to her brother.

Fang's Father and Eldest Brother Fang were out working odd jobs—despite Fang's Father being past retirement age—all because of Fang Zhiyi’s mess.

As Fang Zhiyi headed for the door, Fang's Mother called out, "Third Son, where are you going?"

He waved her off. "Just taking a walk! Be back soon!"

The sigh behind him was unmistakable.

The economy was just recovering, poised for a boom in the coming years. Opportunities were everywhere—why waste it on gambling?

Little Hei shrank under Fang Zhiyi’s stare. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I’ve got an idea…"

At dinner, the Fang family gathered around a meager meal: a salted egg, pickled vegetables, and a bowl of boiled greens. The mood was heavy.

"Where’s Third Son?" Fang's Father grumbled.

Fang's Mother hesitated. "He said he needed air. Probably feeling cooped up."

Li Cuixia, Eldest Brother Fang’s wife, snorted. "Or he’s off gambling again."

Eldest Brother Fang glared. "Shut up and eat."

Li Cuixia huffed. She didn’t care—had it not been for that useless brother-in-law, their lives wouldn’t be like this.

"Am I wrong?"

"Let’s just eat," Second Sister Fang murmured.

But worry hung over the table. Every time Fang Zhiyi left, he either stirred trouble or gambled. They never knew when debt collectors would storm in.

As they silently shoveled rice, Fang Zhiyi returned. "Eating, huh?" he quipped, effortlessly mimicking the original’s smug tone.

"Third Son’s back! Let me get you a bowl," Fang's Mother said, rising—her doting unchanged.

"Mom, sit. I’ll serve myself." Fang Zhiyi fetched a bowl and scooped rice, frowning at the sparse dishes.

Noticing, Fang's Mother forced a smile. "We didn’t get much today. Bear with it. Tomorrow, I’ll buy whatever you want."

"Such different treatment for sons," Li Cuixia muttered.

Fang Zhiyi shot her a look but stayed silent. Though sharp-tongued, she’d done her duty as a sister-in-law despite the original’s misdeeds.

"Can’t you keep quiet?" Eldest Brother Fang snapped.

As tensions flared, Fang Zhiyi cut in, "Easy, easy. It’s all my fault, okay?"

The table froze. Fang Zhiyi never apologized.

"Little Brother… did you borrow money again?" Second Sister Fang asked cautiously.

Fang Zhiyi blinked. What?

Then it hit him—for the original, humility only meant he needed something.

What a bastard.

"No debts. But I do have something to discuss."