Things had taken a wildly unexpected turn in Ji Yuxi's life.
From being a hungry, robot-repairing, barely-alive street beggar, he was now:
A published author
Rich (again, temporarily)
Seven months pregnant
Oh—and now, his best-selling novel about the face-spping, back-stabbing Empress had been picked up by a big production company for a drama adaptation.
The contract?
Two. Million. Star Coins.
The moment Ji Yuxi saw the offer letter from the production company, he nearly passed out. Again.
But this time, not from pregnancy—from sheer, uncontrolble joy.
"Two million?! For a story I made up on a couch, while eating snacks and yelling at Xiao Yu?!"
He ughed maniacally while Ji Xing looked concerned, probably wondering if her soon-to-be twin siblings were okay.
With that ridiculous sum in his account, Ji Yuxi decided it was finally time to stop living like gactic peasants.
He turned to Xiao Yu and decred:
"We’re buying a house. Not just any house—a double-story, three-bedroom, ‘look at me I’m rich’ kind of house."
Lan blinked and nodded like this was a normal Tuesday.
Xiao Yu, as always, sighed, but still went with them.
They found a cozy, beautiful home in the outskirts of town with a garden, a big kitchen, tall ceilings, and zero space pirates—perfect for a pregnant author, a newlywed couple, and an emotionally attached toddler.
The house was surprisingly cheap (bless this humble pnet), going for 1,350,000 star coins. Ji Yuxi, in a rare moment of practicality, only haggled once before throwing his ID card at the seller and yelling, "Sold!"
As Ji Yuxi and Xiao Yu stood at the counter signing the documents, Ji Yuxi gnced sideways.
“Don’t you want to go home, Xiao Yu?”
Xiao Yu's hand paused mid-signature.
He didn’t speak for a few seconds.
Then he sighed, softly, like someone who’d already let go of something heavy but still remembered the weight. “Since my brother fell in love with that vixen, he’s started acting... weird. Possessive. Controlling. And the cherry on top? He spped me in front of the entire family gathering. To defend her.”
Ji Yuxi’s pen stopped. “Wait. He what?”
Xiao Yu sighed. “Full-on spped. Open palm. Sounded like a whip crack. Grandma dropped her teacup.”
Ji Yuxi blinked. “I’m gonna need the full gossip on that ter.”
“I didn’t want to become the vilin in their story,” Xiao Yu continued, eyes downcast. “So I ran away.”
Ji Yuxi didn’t say much after that—he simply reached over and patted Xiao Yu’s head. Gently.
“You’re not a vilin,” he said. “You’re just too cssy for family drama.”
Xiao Yu gave him a soft smile. “I think you’re the first person to ever say that.”
Now seven months along, Ji Yuxi was entering Full Nesting Mode.
He wanted:
Plush pillows
Child-safe floors
A warm, golden aesthetic
A living room big enough to scream in when writing cliffhangers
He handed over 300,000 star coins to a local decor company, saying: “Make it look like royalty lives here. But like, humble royalty. That eats noodles and yells at their roommates.”
The decorators just nodded and asked zero questions.
Good call.
From 2 million to 450,000 in just two weeks. Ji Yuxi stared at his bank app like it had betrayed him.
“I was rich for five minutes... and now I’m back to middle-css.”
Xiao Yu snorted. “Middle-css? With this house?”
“Let me have my drama, please.”
Lan, true to form, handled all the heavy lifting during the move.
Boxes? On his back.Furniture? Carried three couches at once.Fridge? Banced it like it weighed nothing.
All while looking like he was out for a casual walk.
Xiao Yu, now officially Lan’s husband, didn’t let Ji Yuxi lift a single thing.
“Don’t even carry a spoon,” he barked. “You’re carrying two future screamers already. That’s enough.”
Ji Xing, meanwhile, was supervising.
Meaning she sat on top of a box, nibbling snacks, occasionally saying things like:
“Uncle Lan, that box is crooked.”“Uncle Xiao Yu, you forgot the pink one.”“Papa Yuxi, you look round today!”
Ji Yuxi: “Thank you, darling. Just what I needed. A four-year-old calling me spherical.”
Xiao Yu ughed like a madman.
That night, Ji Yuxi stood in the new living room, hands on his seven-month belly, looking around.
The lights were soft, the floors were warm, and the house didn’t smell like burnt circuits or broken toaster bots.
It was quiet.
Peaceful.
For the first time in years—maybe lifetimes—he felt... safe.
Ji Xing was asleep in her new bed, surrounded by stuffed animals.
Lan and Xiao Yu were whispering in the kitchen, most likely discussing whether or not Lan could be trusted to grocery shop alone (he could not).
Ji Yuxi sighed contentedly.
Then the twins kicked. Hard.
“Alright, alright! I get it—you want snacks. Drama runs in the family, clearly.”
As promised, Ji Yuxi finally got the full gossip.
They were sitting on the balcony, Ji Yuxi sipping his no-sugar pregnancy-approved tea, Xiao Yu dramatically dunking cookies into his cup like it was a sorrow simutor.
“So what exactly happened?” Ji Yuxi asked.
Xiao Yu groaned. “My brother brought her—the Vixen—to the house. She flirted with my dad. Then she flirted with my uncle. Then she flirted with the dog. And when I pointed it out, guess who got spped?”
“The dog?”
“No. Me.”
“I mean, that’s still shocking, but let’s be honest—she sounds like a chaotic neutral character.”
“She once said my fashion sense was ‘too humble for a Guide.’”
Ji Yuxi gasped. “That monster.”
Their new life was… surprisingly sweet.
Ji Yuxi wrote novels, waddled around dramatically, and pyed opera music while cooking instant noodles.
Xiao Yu tutored kids, handled the bills, and denied being Lan’s wife approximately 17 times a day.
Lan hunted, carried Ji Yuxi when he got too tired, and continued calling Xiao Yu “wife” with a completely straight face.
Ji Xing started calling the twins in Ji Yuxi’s belly “Little One” and “Little Two.”
She even gave motivational speeches to the bump.
“Hello inside people! Eat well, sleep well, and don’t kick too hard! Papa needs rest.”
