Lin MeiMei Brand "Grand Fortune" - If You're an Ostrich for a Day, You'll Be an Ostrich for a Lifetime

Spit?

Spit what?

How could she not remember that?

No way, when had she ever done something so disgusting? At most, she’d exchanged a couple of spits with some old hag in the women’s restroom before. That was it.

How could she possibly do something like that to her favorite big brother?

Slander, pure slander!

Lin Baizhi looked defiant, but soon realized the sky was falling.

“Spit... spit? Uh, Xiao Cheng, could you be misremembering? Baizhi is the cleanest kid around, even a bit of a germaphobe. There’s no way she’d spit on you. Why don’t you think it over again?”

Lin Tianxiong started damage control, sensing his daughter, who was hiding not far away, was about to have her world collapse.

Ye Cheng shook his head: “I shouldn’t be wrong. I remember it was 4,382 days ago. That evening, I was outside the welfare home fooling around with a few little simpletons, playing a dice-guessing game. I was the banker, and they placed bets...”

For the next half minute, Ye Cheng detailed his scheme, the process, and the outcome.

In short, he cheated to trick the little simpletons in the welfare home. But it wasn’t just for fun—he also swiped their pocket money.

Because Ye Cheng was the “King of Pokémon,” he had an excellent reputation and standing in the welfare home.

Though they were simpletons, they all trusted Ye Cheng unconditionally. In a way, he was the kid leader, the big brother—a shining, upright image.

Most importantly, he could play with them, way more fun than the adults at the welfare home.

Unconditional trust!

The result? They were scammed down to their last pair of underwear. Ye Cheng, as banker, feasted alone, taking even their next month’s pocket money and snacks.

If the little simpletons hadn’t been so dumb, Ye Cheng would’ve even opened a shady loan company to squeeze them dry...

It was under those circumstances. After a day of playing, Ye Cheng got tired and went to the tap for a drink to wet his throat.

Lin Baizhi showed up, holding a cup of hot water she’d brought from somewhere.

“It’s too hot; wait a bit before drinking. Hey, Little Dummy, wanna play a couple rounds?” Ye Cheng asked, holding the dice with a look of “innocence.”

“No thanks, it’s too hard. I don’t get it... I’ll help you blow on it...”

Then Lin Baizhi used the excuse of blowing on the hot water to “muddle through.” But the water still wouldn’t cool down, so she said she’d go inside to add some cold water. The result?

The result was Ye Cheng witnessing the “spitting” scene.

When Ye Cheng saw it, his jaw dropped. His eyes bulged like a cow’s: “Damn, Little Dummy, I thought you were usually so honest, and you’re trying to poison me?”

In the end, Ye Cheng guzzled water straight from the tap. It tasted vaguely of spicy sticks—some idiot must have been drinking from it earlier.

But at least it was better than that “Dragon’s Breath” from Little Dummy.

Spitting right in front of him, terrifying!

“That’s pretty much it. Later, I looked it up in a book, and it said that’s a sign of affection. I didn’t get it back then, but I do remember it.”

Ye Cheng rubbed his smooth chin, lost in thought.

As for why he said he didn’t understand back then? Because later, when he realized, he pretended not to see it every time. After all, it was good intentions on her part.

Sure, the method was a bit nasty, but at least she was clean... hopefully?

After hearing this story, the father and daughter’s expressions shifted from one being silent and the other love-struck to both being dumbfounded.

Two trees stood in my yard—one was a jujube tree, and the other was also a jujube tree.

Ye Cheng patted his oversized stomach: “Right, anything else you want to ask? Fire away. We’re brothers at heart; I can’t help with big stuff, and you don’t need me for small stuff—but it’s all in the heart!”

“Um, I...”

“Ahhh—”

Just as Lin Tianxiong started to speak, trying to pry more information for his daughter, a sudden shriek erupted from the greenery behind them, where Lin Baizhi had been nodding along.

Lin Baizhi transformed into a “runaway train” and bolted in the other direction.

She turned and left as if she’d made some kind of decision...

Lin Tianxiong: “???”

“Baizhi, slow down! Watch out for cars!” Lin Tianxiong’s heart skipped a beat seeing his daughter’s “wild charge,” afraid something might happen, and he chased after her.

“Xiao Cheng, let’s leave it here for today. Come by tomorrow, and I’ll give you the stuff. Remember to call... Baizhi, slow down, watch the road.”

Lin Tianxiong, like a champion sprinter, ran after her. The father and daughter disappeared from Ye Cheng’s sight.

“Youth really has energy,” Ye Cheng muttered, blinking as he watched them go.

Then, he blew bubbles. Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles...

Patting his oversized stomach, he started walking back, blowing bubbles the whole way—quite a sight to behold.

In the hall.

“What’s... going on?” Shen Ming frowned, staring at the direction Lin Baizhi had fled, still hearing the doting father Lin Tianxiong shouting “slow down, slow down” as he chased her. Confused, he wondered: They left fine earlier—what happened?

“Probably went to ride a coin-operated kiddie ride,” Shen Qinghan said calmly.

Shen Ming: “???”

“Hanhan, what does that have to do with riding a kiddie ride?” Shen Ming asked.

But the eldest daughter just ignored him after that remark. She sat alone by the edge of the hall, staring at the entrance, as if waiting for something.

“Pop, pop, pop...”

One smoke ring after another appeared, then bubbles. Shen Qinghan’s eyes flickered with curiosity. Soon after came Ye Cheng’s oversized stomach—visible before his person.

Another brilliant “Nine Dragons Pulling a Coffin” formation of smoke rings and bubbles emerged: one large ring, surrounded by nine smaller ones.

“What do you think, Miss? Pretty awesome, right?”

Shen Qinghan was captivated, but then Ye Cheng’s untimely voice broke the spell, snapping her back to reality.

There was no “Nine Dragons Pulling a Coffin”—just a big stomach walking along, blowing bubbles...

Shen Qinghan: “...”

“Thump!”

Ye Cheng was out cold!

He got knocked out by the elder miss with a single hit. Eyes closed, legs stiff, he was done for—dragged off by her toward the exit. Tang Yuyao didn’t even get a chance to say a word, still on the sidelines.

“Elder Madam, Elder Master, we’ll take our leave now. We’ll visit your home in a few days,” Shen Ming said with a smile as he bid farewell before chasing after them.

In an inconspicuous corner... the youngest son was still locked in a game of wits with “Big Yellow.”

What a stalemate that was.

Seeing that almost everyone had left, a question mark appeared over Big Yellow’s head. Then it chased after them. The youngest son breathed a sigh of relief, his chubby little hand wiping the cold sweat off his forehead.

“Great, I survived.”

Tap tap tap. Halfway out, Big Yellow suddenly turned back and gave the youngest son two smacks... yeah, in the literal sense of the word.

In short, he got beaten by a dog.

That’s right, not bitten, but beaten.

The youngest son: “???”

“Grandpa, look at it! See? I told you, this dog is off!” The youngest son seized the opportunity, stood up, and quickly pointed at Big Yellow, who had just hit him, tattling.

Old Master Tang: “...”

You know what? Now that you mention it...

Old Master Tang had lived a long life, but this was the first time he’d seen something like this—a dog that hits people?

“What breed is that, number four? I want one too,” Old Master Tang said, his eyes shining with excitement as he watched Big Yellow run off.

Old Master Tang came from a poor background and had always loved rural village dogs—loyal, honest, good at guarding the house. Big Yellow perfectly fit every single one of his aesthetic preferences.

Not only did it look like a village dog, but it also had intelligence far surpassing city pets like Border Collies. He was completely smitten.

As for the youngest son getting beaten by a dog... well, nobody cared.

Tang Shouye, who had spent most of the day lazing around on the sidelines, suddenly perked up. He stretched his neck, squinted his tiny, pea-sized eyes, and carefully studied Big Yellow’s “swaggering back” as it disappeared.

“This... this looks like a village dog, right?”

“Thump!”

A solid smack landed on Tang Shouye’s head, hurting so much his tears almost came out: “No kidding, I know it’s a village dog! I’m asking you what kind of village dog it is!”

Tang Shouye: “...”

Dad, you’re being unreasonable here. I’m a big-time businessman—how am I supposed to know some obscure breed of village dog? You’re making things difficult on purpose, aren’t you?

Tang Shouye got furious—then immediately simmered down, plastering a smile on his face: “I’ll have someone look into it. If that doesn’t work, I’ll go ask Brother Shen and Brother Lin.”

Old Master Tang nodded.

“If it has puppies, save a couple for me. This dog looks solid, way more pleasing than the ones people have now.”

Tang Shouye nodded along: “Yeah, I think so too. This dog looks honest through and through!”

The youngest son: “...”

The world isolates me, letting it mock me...

A strangely sad BGM started playing in the youngest son’s head. He felt like the world had no love left for him. Then, suddenly, a thought struck.

Oh, right! Grandma! He still had Grandma! Grandma must love him!

Clutching at his last straw, the youngest son scrambled to his feet, dusted off his pants, and found the fresh paw print marks Big Yellow had left on him earlier—still pretty fresh.

“Grandma! Grandma!”

The youngest son hurried over to find his grandma and get her to take his side. But instead...

“You little brat! Little brat! Little brat!”

His grandma was busy sending out a “one-hundred consecutive hits” to Tang Yuyao, who was getting beaten so hard she almost turned into a meatball. The youngest son silently withdrew his “Grandma” card, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead again.

He slunk back into his inconspicuous corner, crouched down, and... The world isolates me, letting it mock me... the same sad BGM played on.

He tilted his head upward at a forty-five-degree angle. Don’t look down—the crown might fall.

“You little brat! Little brat! Little brat!”

Tang Yuyao’s HP kept dropping by one, over and over.

Their mother’s face was nearly twisted with anger. She had lectured Tang Yuyao just a moment ago, and Tang Yuyao, acting like some top student, just kept nodding and nodding, saying, “Got it, got it.”

But when the real test came, she immediately showed her true colors—turned into a total coward.

She just stood there, watching Ye Cheng get dragged away by Shen Qinghan without even daring to say goodbye. A ostrich among ostriches!

Their mother’s blood pressure nearly shot up to 200.

Tang Yuyao, feeling guilty, muttered to herself: “I... I wasn’t ready yet. Don’t rush me... I have my own rhythm. Just wait and see.”

Rhythm?

Rhythm my foot!

“You little brat! Little brat! Little brat!” Their mother kept up the barrage of hits, delivering the very generous “one-hundred consecutive hits.”

...

On the way back.

“Madam, is there a dog chasing us?” The short-haired woman glanced in the rearview mirror at Big Yellow and said, sounding uncertain.

The reason for her uncertainty was... they weren’t exactly driving slowly—almost 80 miles per hour—but that fat dog behind them somehow kept up, not slowing down at all.

In fact, the distance between them was actually shrinking.

“Dog? What dog?” Shen Ming stuck his head out from the passenger seat to look back and saw Big Yellow running like crazy.

Shen Ming: “???”

“Xiao Lan, stop the car! Stop the car!!!” Shen Ming’s voice was almost trembling with alarm. A city expressway, and you’re running that fast?

Are you human?

No—dogs shouldn’t do that either, right?