He is Lovestruck in the Revenge-Chapter 63 - 062 Isnt this the arrival of love (First Update)

Chapter 63: 062: Isn’t this the arrival of love (First Update)

Chapter 63: 062: Isn’t this the arrival of love (First Update)

At 7:39 in the evening, Gu Yihuan posted a message in his social circle.

Valley Mouth Singing God: “MD, I can’t become a singer anymore!”

Wen Changling had gone to Sister Tao’s house to deliver a cake, and Xie Shang called Gu Yihuan back at this time.

“How come you can’t become one again?”

He complained, very indignantly, “I was deceived. It wasn’t any kind of serious agency at all. After I paid the training fee, they blocked me.”

Xie Shang wasn’t very surprised. Gu Yihuan’s singing level was clear for all to see, and most probably, those who came to him weren’t really serious about making records.

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But swindling money right away, not many people are that foolish.

It was right for Gu Yihuan not to take over the family business.

“You’re 22, and still so easily deceived.”

“They talked to me about dreams, and I get carried away as soon as we talk about dreams.”

Xie Shang didn’t want to talk about dreams, “How much did you get scammed?”

“It’s not about the money.”

“Then what’s it about?”

Gu Yihuan was very dejected, “I can’t debut now.”

“…”

He hadn’t given up yet.

Xie Shang looked towards the doorway. The wind blew in, the old door creaked, and Granny Zhu’s tabby cat came over to visit. Wen Changling, who had gone to deliver the cake, hadn’t returned yet.

The tabby cat nudged the door shut with its head.

“Fourth brother,” Gu Yihuan suddenly became very excited, “could you start a talent agency? If you manage it, I’m sure I could become famous.”

“It’s late, wash up and go to sleep.”

Xie Shang hung up the phone and walked over to reopen the door that the cat had closed.

Aoting Bar.

Gu Yihuan was propping up his face on the bar counter, looking utterly dejected, heaving sighs and groans.

After seeing the post in the social circle, Gu Kaiyun didn’t come. He Dongzhou came over to mock him and then left. Fair-weather friends went about their fun, and dancers kept dancing; human joys and sorrows do not communicate.

Guan Sixing, who often had no internet connection, likely hadn’t seen the social circle, as he came to the bar after nine o’clock.

To be honest, Gu Yihuan was a bit touched when he saw him.

“Guan Sixing, this!”

Guan Sixing heard his name, furrowed his brow, and looked around awkwardly like a good student entering a bar for the first time. After finding Gu Yihuan, he finally moved and walked over.

He sat down, and the first thing he said was, “Don’t call me Guan Sixing.”

Gu Yihuan: “?”

Could it be that the research institute had launched some confidential project? Were their names not to be used publicly?

“Call me Wang Shanxi from now on.”

Gu Yihuan: “…”

What the hell?

Gu Yihuan tilted his head and scrutinized, “Did you fall on your head while repairing a spire?”

Guan Sixing asked for a glass of water.

Gu Yihuan quickly snatched the water glass with a quick hand, “Guan Sixing, stop playing dumb.”

Guan Sixing maintained a solemn expression, “Call me Wang Shanxi.”

Gu Yihuan: “…”

Why did Guan Sixing suddenly change her name? The story actually began that morning.

In the morning, Jhiang Youyou had a huge argument with her father, Jhiang Zhenghao, because he had agreed to an invitation on her behalf without her consent. The gentleman who had invited her was the same one who had attended her birthday party last time, one of Jhiang Zhenghao’s prospective son-in-law candidates.

Her friends told Jhiang Youyou that the gentleman led a very messy private life, having fathered illegitimate children despite being unmarried, and nobody knew how many mistresses he had kept on the side. When Jhiang Youyou relayed this information to Jhiang Zhenghao, he brushed it off, saying as long as it didn’t get exposed publicly, it wouldn’t affect her or her future children after she married into the family.

He really had it all figured out, even imagining the future children.

Jhiang Youyou couldn’t help but laugh angrily, “Dad, did you really not see the living example of my second sister?”

Her second sister’s husband was the same kind of man; mistresses were constantly showing up at their doorstep, and the husband’s mother always played peacemaker, claiming she didn’t acknowledge any of those disreputable women, but she treated all the children they bore like her own little treasures. She even advised her daughter-in-law to be more open-minded, emphasizing that nothing was more important than the family lineage flourishing.

Her second sister had been depressed for years.

Bringing up these issues, Jhiang Zhenghao still wasn’t satisfied, “That’s because your second sister is too weak. She doesn’t have any say in her in-laws’ family.”

Look at what her own father said.

Jhiang Youyou didn’t bother to reason with him—she knew it was futile, “I’m weak too, so frail that I can’t take care of myself.” She leaned on her arm as if unable to care for herself, “You can arrange my marriage, but at least pick someone decent for me, not from a trash heap. I’m too frail to survive there; I can only live in a greenhouse.”

“Don’t change the subject with me. I’ve already accepted the invitation on your behalf; just go meet him. I’m not forcing you to marry him right now.”

Jhiang Youyou turned her back and rolled her eyes, “Whoever accepted the invite should be the one to go.”

Jhiang Zhenghao grew angry and pointed at her while lecturing, “What’s wrong with Tang Zheng that he’s not good enough for you? If you keep being so picky, once you’re over thirty, who will want you?”

Tang Zheng? Mr. Upright and Honorable indeed. How brazen to use such a name.

Today, Jhiang Youyou didn’t bother to pretend, etiquette and being the proper lady be damned. She stood up, her voice even louder than Jhiang Zhenghao’s, “I’d rather not marry at all; I can live by myself.”

Jhiang Zhenghao was shocked by her rudeness, “How can you speak like that? I spent so much money on etiquette classes for you, and all you learned was to talk back to me with foul language?”

She had learned so much more, enough to probably make him die of anger if she spoke out.

Shen Li stepped in to mediate, “Youyou, don’t argue with your dad. He’s only thinking of your best interest.”

He’s thinking of your son’s best interest.

“Just listen to your aunt’s advice—”

She couldn’t stand to listen, not a single word. Jhiang Youyou took off.

Jhiang Zhenghao shouted at her, “Where are you going?”

“To become a nun.”

“You stop right there!”

Jhiang Youyou ran off.

She really went to a temple—the Ksitigarbha Hall there housed her mother’s memorial tablet.

She and her four sisters were full siblings; Jhiang Zhenghao’s precious son was Shen Li’s child. Before Jhiang Zhenghao made his fortune, he was nothing but a fish farmer, with his first wife sharing his hardships for over a decade. Later, Jhiang Zhenghao hit it big, catching the wave of economic opportunity in real estate, and as money started filling his pockets, temptations began to abound.

Shen Li was formerly Jhiang Zhenghao’s secretary, and after she gave birth to his son, she gained status and boldly approached the first wife to step aside for her “great love.”

The first wife, who’d been meek for most of her life, splashed her husband with a pot of boiling porridge and then stormed out, never to return to the Jhiang Family’s household again.

On her deathbed, she told her five daughters that all men were the same—there’s no such thing as love for life; it’s better to love oneself. She also left an instruction: not all of their father’s wealth should go to the mistress’s son.

That’s why Jhiang Youyou had always been obedient, and Jhiang Zhenghao seemed to adore her, at least on the surface. He had high hopes for her; he bought her cars, designer bags, and real estate.

Jhiang Youyou was an atheist, but that didn’t stop her from kneeling on the cushion in the temple and making a sincere wish at that moment, “Bodhisattva, oh Bodhisattva, your follower Youyou doesn’t ask for a romantic destiny but prays for wealth. Keep me away from trash and grant me a lifetime of luxury.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than a nail fell from the beam above, rolling to a stop beside Jhiang Youyou’s foot.

She looked up, “Wang Shanxi?”