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Now reading: Chapter 940: 941 Toxic Fatherly Love 73 from Transmigration: On the Gossip Front, a Urban novel by Qi Qi's cat.

Chapter 940: Chapter 941 Toxic Fatherly Love 73

Ever since having a child, Feng Ji found himself coming ho much more often.

The main reason was Zhang Yu, who had made it clear: as a father, and as the “brains” of the household, it was his duty to take their child’s education seriously.

Even Old Lady Feng sided with Zhang Yu on this matter. With both his wife and grandmother insisting, Feng Ji had no choice but to comply.

Lulling their son to sleep was no small feat, but after he finally succeeded, Feng Ji washed up and climbed into bed, only to find Zhang Yu scrolling through a blog.

He leaned over for a glance. “It’s another food review blog.”

Seeing the na of the restaurant on the page, he raised an eyebrow in recognition. After thinking for a mont, he remarked, “The food at that place is diocre, honestly.”

“My colleague tried it. It’s expensive, and the taste? Let’s just say it left them speechless in the worst way.”

“The chef’s skills seem inconsistent. Sotis the food is great, really impressive.”

“But other tis, it feels like a novice is in charge.” Feng Ji scratched his head, puzzled.

“A restaurant like that really exists?” Zhang Yu was intrigued. “Maybe the chef only shows up to work sporadically?”

“Or maybe they’re disgruntled with the boss—so they perform well randomly in between strikes?” Zhang Yu had been debating whether to visit the place herself.

However, Wu Jian had recently posted a review of the sa restaurant. If she followed up and voiced a differing opinion, that guy might think she was deliberately challenging him.

And while she did feel inclined to challenge him at tis, she couldn’t be too obvious about it.

Feng Ji’s comnts tipped the scales for Zhang Yu. She decided she’d visit twice to assess the food herself.

“By the way, how co you’re reading other bloggers’ posts?” Feng Ji rarely saw Zhang Yu looking at such things.

“It’s Wu Jian’s blog.” A colleague had ntioned it, so she’d taken a peek. She had thought her earlier advice had convinced Wu Jian to at least hold off on blogging until after the university entrance exams, but to her surprise, he couldn’t resist.

“Wu Jian?” Feng Ji imdiately perked up at the familiar na and peered at Zhang Yu.

“Yes, that kid.”

“Oh.” Feng Ji nodded. “I rember now—wasn’t he supposed to be preparing for the college entrance exams? How does he even have ti for this?”

He couldn’t help but be impressed. “I an, I felt the exams weren’t too challenging back then, but even so, I did take studying seriously—with you.”

“He’s sothing else.” Feng Ji shook his head, marveling at the audacity. “I really have to hand it to him.”

But seeing the admiration on Feng Ji’s face, Zhang Yu doused it with a flat, “You could’ve just not taken the exams, then.”

“Huh?” Feng Ji was baffled. “But… doesn’t he have decent grades?”

If his grades were poor, Feng Ji wouldn’t have been surprised if he opted out. “Getting into college nowadays really isn’t that hard anymore.”

Back in their day, securing a spot at university was a monuntal challenge. Giving up on the exams during senior year was fairly common.

“His grades are decent, yes, but… he has a girlfriend now. She spends money freely, and Wu Hao doesn’t have much to begin with. Knowing the money goes to her makes him reluctant to spend on himself.”

“So Wu Jian has to earn money to give to her. After realizing I’m a blogger, he’s tried all sorts of ways to make money, thinking it’d be an easy cash grab.”

Zhang Yu sighed, exasperated. “When I got into this line of work, I started by publishing articles in magazines and then online. Even then, I could barely cover my basic expenses.”

“At first, I wrote travelogs casually—mostly when I went out for fun—and honestly didn’t care whether they made money.”

“It wasn’t until I started posting overseas travel videos that the earnings started trickling in.”

“And when I opened my own studio, my inco finally beca stable.”

“But it’s still because I took on so ads along the way.” Free restaurant reviews, though—she’d never agree to those, on principle.

“Looking at Wu Jian, it’s clear his focus is entirely on making money. If he doesn’t see any inco for a while…” Zhang Yu could only imagine how far Wu Jian might go for cash down the line.

“Pursuing this industry?” Feng Ji’s face betrayed his incredulity. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Does he not have a brain?”

“Does he not realize how few people who get into this line of work actually stick it out?” Ever since eting Zhang Yu, Feng Ji had beco more attuned to the realities of the outside world, courtesy of the internet.

Online, he’d picked up on all sorts of insights and even found new directions for his investnts.

Yes, that’s right—Feng Ji of the past used to simply follow the advice of his talented and capable friends without much thought. After all, they knew their stuff.

Those friends had earned him quite a bit of money, but now he had broader horizons. With more responsibilities—two grandmothers to care for, a wife, and a child—he had more at stake.

When his advisor learned he’d beco a father, they’d told him, “You’ll grow more mature.”

At the ti, he couldn’t understand. Didn’t he already consider himself mature? No one had ever doubted that.

Only later did he realize how his thoughts started to encompass broader concerns. That maturity sotis also brought out a surprising childishness.

Playing gas with his son, for instance—he never would’ve imagined doing sothing so “juvenile” in the past. But now, it didn’t feel like a waste of ti at all.

Every ti he looked at his son, he couldn’t help but wonder about the kind of person the boy would grow up to be.

“When our son grows up, whatever he wants to do, I’ll support him.” Feng Ji felt certain his son wouldn’t grow up to be unreasonable, but life was full of surprises.

Still scrolling through Wu Jian’s blog, Zhang Yu’s ears perked up at his words. “Even if it’s not in research or sothing prestigious?”

Despite marrying into Feng Ji’s relatively academic world, where he primarily focused on his studies and research, occasional social obligations still arose.

Whenever such gatherings occurred, Zhang Yu attended alongside him and noted how those circles often carried heavy expectations for children—not just in terms of grades but also in broader accomplishnts.

“Who cares about being prestigious? I’m working hard now so my kid won’t have to struggle so much in the future.”

“As a kid, I wanted to go out and play, but all I could do was study, day in and day out. No one would play with . It was always just studying.”

“In middle school, I had to work even harder to get good grades. Without that, I wouldn’t have been able to afford tuition—it was the only way to get discounts and subsidies.”

“That’s how I finished high school. Later, when I went to college, the school knew about my family situation and provided more financial aid. And there were scholarships too.”

“When I went abroad for further studies, my professor even bought a plane ticket and introduced to contacts there.”

“There were good tis and bad tis over there, but I’m grateful for the version of who persisted through it all.”

Feng Ji glanced tenderly at their peacefully sleeping son, his gaze softening.

“At least you wouldn’t have t ,” Zhang Yu quipped with no intention of sugar-coating it.

“True.” Feng Ji paused, then chuckled. “If I hadn’t had the money, you wouldn’t have ended up buying a house in that area. And then, my grandmother wouldn’t have t your grandmother.”

“Sotis I think, if my grandma had been in better health, I wouldn’t have bought a house there either.”

Every step he took had brought him to this point—even seemingly small choices were part of the bigger picture.

To many, Feng Ji might not seem like the ideal husband. But in Zhang Yu’s eyes, he was exactly the right fit for her.

Even when she had to leave ho for work, Feng Ji would adjust his pace, ensuring he could co ho daily to check on their son and the two elderly grandmothers.

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