Rong Ruoyao could hardly believe her eyes.
She quickly tapped open the short video. The venue was exquisitely decorated, with lavish spreads of desserts and drinks—clearly no expense had been spared. The setup must have cost a fortune.
The villa in the video looked familiar. She passed by it every day on her way ho from school, near First High School, nestled by the lake. Her father had once ntioned that such villas cost tens of millions.
Ji Zhouye—the so-called "poor student" who had to borrow money from classmates just to eat—was hosting a birthday party in a place like this? Where did he get the money?
In the video, most of the attendees wore school uniforms—students from Class 20, including Rong Yu.
Then, the cara panned, and she caught a glimpse of a familiar face. She paused the video, zood in, and scrutinized it. Standing right in the center of the group was none other than Hai Chang'an, the third young master of Hai's Group. The very sa Hai Chang'an overseeing the collaboration project between her family and Hai's Group.
Next, she spotted Si Lin, the second young master of the Si family. She’d seen him in the news—a notorious playboy, often entangled in tabloid scandals with minor celebrities and models.
Both the Si and Hai families were part of Haicheng’s elite upper class, circles far beyond her reach. Even the Song family barely scraped the edges of that world.
How on earth did Ji Zhouye know these wealthy young masters?
Pursing her lips, Rong Ruoyao took a screenshot and sent the faces in the video to a girl from Class 20: "Did you see these two at Ji Zhouye’s birthday party today?"
The girl replied promptly, "Oh, them? Yeah, they crashed the party uninvited. Ji Zhouye kicked them straight into the pool and threw them out."
Rong Ruoyao’s eyes widened in shock.
Hai Chang'an and Si Lin—kicked out of a party by Ji Zhouye, of all people?
How was that even possible?
Did Ji Zhouye not know who they were?
But if he didn’t, why would they even show up?
"Ji Zhouye’s villa is huge—three floors, with a pool, lawn, and garden. He lives there alone," the girl continued in a flurry of ssages. "Turns out he’s a third-generation heir. His grandfather is loaded..."
Rong Ruoyao felt as if she’d been struck by lightning.
Now she rembered—back when Ji Zhouye first confessed to Rong Yu, he’d casually tossed her a necklace. It was a newly released piece from a luxury brand, worth nearly a million. At the ti, she’d assud it was a knockoff.
Then there were Rong Yu’s designer handbags, clothes, shoes—all limited-edition international brands. She’d always thought Rong Yu was faking it, pretending to be sothing she wasn’t.
Why hadn’t anyone online called her out for it?
Because they were all real.
Gifts from Ji Zhouye.
Compared to Song Huai, Ji Zhouye was clearly wealthier—and far more generous.
Jealousy burned through Rong Ruoyao like wildfire.
Ji Zhouye had liked her first.
Back in their first year of high school, he’d stopped her to confess, handing her love letters and chocolates.
Taking a deep breath, she opened Ji Zhouye’s WeChat and sent a ssage: "Zhouye, happy 18th birthday. Wishing you endless happiness."
Minutes passed with no reply.
She assud he hadn’t seen it—until she noticed he’d just posted a mont.
"Another year older."
Accompanied by two photos: one of the entire Class 20, and another with Rong Yu.
That single post spoke volus about Rong Yu’s place in his heart.
Ji Zhouye never replied.
He was driving, heading back to Hibiscus Manor with Rong Yu.
The mont they arrived, Old Master Ji’s voice bood from inside, mid-phone call: "Old Si, that grandson of yours—I don’t even know where to start. Not even twenty, and already drowning in won. Your family’s money didn’t co easy. Keep this up, and by the ti you’re dead, there won’t be a penny left for your descendants to burn for you..."
Ji Zhouye smirked.
Served him right.
Who told Si Lin to flirt with his great-grandmother?
Now he’d face the full wrath of the Si family’s financial lockdown.
"Zhouye, you’re finally back." Lan Rouxue was there too. She handed him a small, elegant box. "Your coming-of-age gift. Hope you like it."
He opened it—a belt.
He’d already received over twenty belts today. Enough to last a lifeti.
Nodding, he said, "Thanks, Rouxue."
Lan Rouxue hadn’t co just to deliver a gift. She was waiting for Ji Zhiyuan to finish work so they could finally go on a date.
Lately, their relationship felt more distant than ever.
After sitting in the living room for what felt like ages, Ji Zhiyuan finally erged from his study. She stood, smiling. "Zhiyuan, let’s take a walk. Enjoy the moonlight?"
He walked out with her. "Where’s Xiaoyue? Didn’t bring her along?"
"It’s too late. She couldn’t stay up." Lan Rouxue chuckled. "She’s been asking about you—says it’s been forever since she saw her dad."
The word "dad" stung. Ji Zhiyuan couldn’t forget that day by the river, hearing Lan Yue call another man "Daddy."
Still, she was the child he’d doted on. Softening, he said, "I’ll take you ho. See her for a bit."
Lan Rouxue nodded.
Passing a boutique, she remarked casually, "Xiaoyue’s school is holding a recital. She’s been begging for a new dress."
Ji Zhiyuan parked, and they went inside.
Lan Rouxue picked up a gown—priced at 360,000 yuan.
Ji Zhiyuan had been taking on extra work to make ends et, but 360,000 was still too much.
She set it down, choosing another. "This one’s nice too."
70,000 yuan.
Ji Zhiyuan paid without a word.
Lan Rouxue bit her lip.
How much longer would Old Master Ji’s financial restrictions last?
A 70,000-yuan dress paled next to the dazzling 360,000 one. Was her daughter dood to settle for less forever?
When they reached her villa, the lights were on—and a man’s voice echoed from inside.
The sa man from the riverfront. A persistent suitor from her study abroad days.
She’d rejected him countless tis.
Yet here he was again.
Panicked, she hurriedly stepped out of the car. "It’s late. I won’t keep you. Drive safe."
Only when the car vanished did she enter.
Inside, Lan Yue and the man were playing gas, laughing.
"Daddy, another round!" Lan Yue chirped. "This ti, go easy on !"
"Xiaoyue, bedti." Lan Rouxue frowned. "Kou Xing, I told you to stay away. I have a boyfriend. There’s no future for us."
Kou Xing t her gaze. "I know it’s Ji Zhiyuan. You two dated back in college. I thought you’d marry him—but then you chose soone else. At the ti, I didn’t understand. Now I do. You had no idea Ji Zhiyuan was from that Ji family. So you left him for a wealthy man instead."
He stared fixedly at her. "You married soone else back then for money, and now you're getting back together with Ji Zhiyuan—again, for money. Isn't that right?"
Lan Rouxue felt as if she had been struck by lightning.
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