MTL - The Heroine Forced Me To Fall In Love with Money - Chapter 77

“My name is Yang Jian, when you are reading this, I am already dead.”A mysterious sheepskin scroll, an eye that peers into darkness, this is the tale of a survivor

He was the powerful and influential heir of B City, the merciless head of the commercial world, but the divorce papers made him lose his cool.

“Sign the divorce papers, daddy,” said the 5-year-old boy.

This man had the divorce papers thrown in his face by his wife six years ago, and was now being pushed by his own son to sign the papers.

“That would make you a single-parent child,” said Gu Juexi coldly.

“Mommy said unicorns don’t exist but men like you do,” the boy leered at his father and said.

Gu Juexi’s face fell. ‘That damned woman.’

“You haven’t signed the papers,” the boy reminded as the man left. As usual, the door shut in his face.

Good lord… Dad and mom are not getting a divorce and are giving him a baby brother? How worrying!

Her step-sister just died three months ago. Now, she insists on marrying Chu Lui, who is supposed to be her future brother-in-law, the mind behind the Chu Enterprise. The world is sure that she, the new bride-to-be, had caused her step-sister’s death in order to seduce him.

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.