17. This woman is trying to gaslight me again.

The next morning, at dawn.

Chen Ze saw 44-year-old Chen Tianhong, who looked quite arrogant, wearing a scowl first thing in the morning.

“You don’t have to work in Yanjing if you don’t want to. I’ll find you a job here in Jinmen. Just don’t mess it up for me.”

Around the dining table sat the four family members together—a scene Chen Ze himself treasured deeply.

Yet, someone managed to ruin the atmosphere.

Looking at Chen Tianhong—broad-eyed, thick-browed, a bit shorter than him, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, sporting a prominent belly but still standing straight like a mountain with a steady, kind gaze—Chen Ze’s chewing slowed as he quietly observed.

His slightly thinning hair was streaked with a few strands of gray, and the weathered face bore the marks of time.

At this moment, Chen Tianhong’s deep eyes still revealed a resolute and stern spirit.

They say “a stick produces a filial son,” but this isn’t always true. From Chen Ze’s perspective in the future, he felt quite unfilial—he hardly took care of the family and was self-centered, simply making sure he was fed without worrying about the rest.

Although he no longer asked for money, he gave little in return, becoming an independent egoist.

Chen Tianhong’s strictness cast a shadow over Chen Ze’s life; his parents were always the classic “good cop, bad cop” in his upbringing.

Yet, in some ways, his rise from nothing to middle-class success was due in large part to their family education.

Coal bosses, builders—many who struck it rich in the era’s boom—often ended up trapped by their own children. Chen Ze was neither outstanding nor terrible in comparison.

He was grateful for his parents’ sacrifices, but now was not the time for gratitude. Chen Ze took a sip of porridge and said earnestly:

“I came back for this reason—I want to start my own business, so I want to borrow some money from you.”

Seeing their son so serious, the rarely surprised Su Meiqing blinked, while Chen Tianhong frowned and said:

“Wanting to start your own business is good, but your current status is still a student. You should focus on your studies.”

Chen Tianhong spoke tactfully, but his slow tone practically wrote doubt and misunderstanding all over his face.

There are many places where one can endure hardship; construction sites are notoriously tough, but Chen Tianhong hoped Chen Ze would use his knowledge—perhaps in sales, clerical work, or tech companies—not just manual labor, which he saw as meaningless.

International students in the U.S. aren’t allowed to work without graduating and applying for OPT internships; part-time work on campus pays little and offers no tips, so Chen Ze never worked there.

Working illegally outside the campus is against the law and can lead to expulsion and deportation.

In some places, foreign students who make mistakes might get leniency, but in the U.S., if you’re a Chinese student, authorities are notoriously strict.

Those who think life abroad is better and refuse to return home usually fall into two categories: either they can afford to live a life of luxury—America is indeed paradise with enough money—or they reject domestic culture and can’t make it at home, preferring to wash dishes abroad rather than go back.

But for ordinary students like Chen Ze, patriotism blossoms as soon as they leave the country. In every aspect—food, clothing, housing, transportation—life in China for a middle-class family truly is a blessing.

Chen Ze used to complain about China, but in America, whenever someone belittled China, he wanted to jump up and fight. And when trouble arose, he wouldn’t turn to a lawyer first; he thought immediately of the embassy.

The happiest thing for him on American soil was probably the moment he could return home.

Each era’s Chinese people view studying abroad differently. Chen Tianhong and his wife grew up in the 80s and 90s when going to America was something grand.

But looking back now, the public intellectuals who promoted it were a bit overzealous.

America is far from perfect, but why do so many still immigrate there? The answer is simple.

It’s like the QQ service’s “final interpretation rights belong to Tencent”—you only have usage rights for your QQ, and this kind of authoritarian control is a main reason why wealthy people immigrate.

Beautiful education and high living standards, plus friendliness toward the wealthy and talented, naturally attract slightly self-interested people to the “beautiful country.”

This is a fact, an open secret, and the primary reason why the “beautiful country” became the world’s strongest.

Otherwise, China’s strict nationality requirements are the only way to counter this open secret.

Chen Ze’s family had net assets of tens of millions, but little liquid capital, so they lived a middle-class lifestyle.

For example, their second house in Jinmen was at Beichen Huafu; all other homes were rented. Chen Tianhong invested his earnings in equipment.

Their Hongye Construction Group was 100% family-owned, with only a small share given to key staff.

This small share, called “dry shares,” isn’t recognized by the business bureau, which only acknowledges Chen Tianhong’s 80% and Su Meiqing’s 20% official ownership.

It’s worth noting that their assets were frozen and liquidated later because of company shares.

Chen Tianhong failed to follow corporate law in some accounting, leading to financial commingling. The court ruled it a sole proprietorship with unlimited joint liability.

Otherwise, with a registered capital of 5 million, their maximum liability would have been limited to 5 million.

Lack of education is truly frightening nowadays; if Chen Ze said their family’s bankruptcy was unjustified, it wouldn’t be.

Although his parents weren’t highly educated, they placed great importance on their children's education.

In his previous life, Chen Ze’s knowledge was wasted.

But this time, he had returned.

Just as Chen Ze was about to persuade his parents to lend him money, a phone on the table rang—an incoming call from a Sichuan number.

Knowing who it was, he calmly answered, holding the phone to his ear while continuing to eat.

“Honey, are you awake?”

The soft voice on the phone startled Chen Tianhong and Su Meiqing, who exchanged shocked glances.

That brat isn’t hiding anything anymore, huh?

Chen Ze ignored his parents’ looks and naturally replied:

“Awake, just eating.”

On the other end, Li Yao sighed in relief—not exactly happy, but relieved.

“Honey, was something bothering you yesterday? I know I shouldn’t have scolded you, but that’s because I love you. I was up all night worried about you.”

Damn woman, starting to CPU me again.

Chen Ze smiled silently.

“Baby, I wasn’t really angry. I wanted to come see you, but I don’t have any money left.”

At the table, apart from the innocent, curious little princess, two pairs of eyes now scrutinized him with judgment, unwilling even to hear explanations, only wanting to scold.

Su Meiqing was more understanding—after all, her son was grown, tall, and handsome, and girls liking him was no big deal.

She had Chen Ze at twenty; this wasn’t like teenage dating.

But Chen Tianhong, sitting beside her, held back, casting a look at Su Meiqing as if to say, “Aren’t you going to punish him?”

In the end, Su Meiqing was more open-minded, gesturing to let the call finish before making a fuss.

The atmosphere dropped to an ice-cold low, but on Chen Ze’s side, it was like spring returning—flowers blooming everywhere.

“How could you not have money? Have you been listening to gossip again? Don’t you understand what kind of people those are? They don’t care about you; they just want to corrupt you. Would you be willing to be a bad person? They envy and hate our love and want to sabotage it. Others might be single, but you have a wife—that’s because we love each other. You’re the best in my heart.”

“It’s not that. I really have no money.”

Chen Ze glanced at his parents’ expressions, then resumed eating as if nothing were wrong, chatting away on the phone.

“I want to come see you, but I can’t lie to myself. The reason I said what I did yesterday was because I think short pain is better than long pain. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Honey, don’t be defeated by temporary hardship. You’ll get through this, right? Whatever happens, you have to tell me. I’ll never leave you.”

Li Yao’s gentle voice almost moved Chen Ze to tears. Excited, he said happily:

“I believe in you, Yao Yao. I really am facing difficulties now; it’s not that I don’t want to be with you.”

“Hardship is just temporary. Don’t you know you’re in danger? As long as I’m here, you’re always the best. What are you afraid of? Come here, honey, let me hold you.”

Boys really are easy to coax.

Just a little coaxing or some playful nagging is enough.

“I’ll check flight tickets for you. You must miss me a lot. Only I care for my husband like this. You love me, so quietly enjoy your happiness… hmph.”

Li Yao’s sweet voice floated through the phone again. After finishing his steamed bun, Chen Ze feigned gloom and said:

“Yao Yao, I still think short pain is better than long pain.”

“No!”

Li Yao immediately rejected him—not in a shout of pain, but with a tone of mock crying:

“You’re not allowed to be angry. You lost contact all night and made me worry. I should be mad at you, not the other way around! How can you be so selfish, sensitive, and dominant? Isn’t it the boyfriend’s duty to keep the girlfriend informed? Who else’s girlfriend cares so much about her boyfriend? And you said you’d listen to me forever. Is this how you keep your promises?”

Li Yao seemed to really be crying. Her pitiful, heart-wrenching voice alone was more tragic than Dou E’s.

After her sobbing and cute sniffles, she pitifully said:

“Honey, do you remember that night when I gave you my first time? What did you say I was?”

Hearing this, Chen Ze fell into memory, then sighed into the phone:

“If the wife is the queen, then I’m the emperor. If the wife is the bank president, then I’m the excellent vice president.”

“That’s right, remember well—you’re the wise and mighty emperor, and I’m your love-crazed, spoiled queen.”

“But Yao Yao, I really have no money to take care of you. You don’t know yet, do you? My family went bankrupt!!”

Damn.

Under Su Meiqing’s soothing, Chen Tianhong had tolerated all the earlier talk—but this was the last straw.

That prodigal son, saying such disappointing things.

In a flash, Chen Tianhong stood up.

He activated his Super Saiyan mode.