Chapter 14: Ai Bing’s Illusion
1517 Words
Ai Bing wore a cold expression.
She had been messaging Zhou Lin since the morning, but not a single reply had come through.
This made her anxious.
“Qiqi, do you think Zhou Lin is deceiving me?”
“He wouldn’t dare. A simp like him wouldn’t have such rebellious thoughts.” Lying on the bed and applying nail polish to her toes, Yang Qiqi barely looked up from her phone. She was too busy chatting with someone who, truth be told, barely acknowledged her. Yet she found joy in it because the man she was talking to was a true big shot. Back then, she had gone to great lengths just to get his contact.
She knew she wasn’t qualified to marry into wealth, but having a rich and powerful friend was still something to brag about.
In fact, Yang Qiqi had already arranged to meet him in a few days. As for what would happen when they met—she wasn’t too concerned. Whatever it was, she was confident she wouldn’t come out on the losing end.
Ai Bing, however, was deeply worried. If something went wrong, she would be in trouble—she had even taken out online loans, and the fees and interest were no small expense.
Fortunately, Zhou Lin finally returned.
She was about to explode in anger when she saw him, but Zhou Lin acted as if he didn’t even notice her frustration. He simply took a quick look around the house and found that his parents were nowhere to be seen.
Zhou Caijun was likely at the farm—there was always plenty to do there.
As for Cheng Yali, she was probably out handling purchases, which meant dinner was most likely not happening tonight.
It wasn’t even four o’clock yet, but outside, the sky was as dark as it usually was at eight or nine in the evening. Without the lights on, the room was pitch black.
“I’m talking to you!” Ai Bing puffed up her cheeks. “Didn’t we agree to transfer the house ownership today?”
“I told you yesterday—I don’t have enough money.”
“I already said I have it, didn’t I?”
“Then transfer it to me,” Zhou Lin replied.
“I’ll do it tomorrow at the property office.” Ai Bing quickly calmed down. She wasn’t the type to act without guarantee—she wouldn’t send him the money until the paperwork was signed.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll see what we can make for dinner.”
“Where are Uncle and Auntie? I haven’t seen them all day.” Ai Bing had no intention of helping in the kitchen—not that she knew how to anyway. She had been at Zhou Lin’s place for two or three days now, and something felt off. His parents didn’t treat her with the warmth a future daughter-in-law should receive. In fact, they seemed to regard her with even less regard than a regular guest.
“They’re busy,” Zhou Lin replied from the kitchen.
“Do they not like me?”
“Of course not. They definitely don’t dislike you,” Zhou Lin assured her with a firm nod.
“Good.” Ai Bing patted her modest chest in feigned relief. Deep down, she didn’t really care whether they liked her or not. What mattered was getting her name on that property title.
She didn’t realize that at that very moment, Zhou Lin was thinking: It’s not that they don’t like you. They just wish you’d drop dead.
By the time dinner was nearly ready, Zhou Caijun returned. Cheng Yali, however, had stayed behind in Lanshan.
With Ai Bing and Yang Qiqi there, Zhou Caijun ate in silence, barely acknowledging them. After finishing his meal, he went straight to the study, treating Ai Bing as if she were invisible.
“I’m done eating. You wash the dishes,” Zhou Lin said.
“Why? You used to never let me do this stuff.”
“That was before,” Zhou Lin replied. “If you don’t make a good impression, how can my parents feel at ease adding your name to the property title?”
At the mention of the title, Ai Bing grudgingly agreed, pouting as she started cleaning up. Yang Qiqi, meanwhile, remained glued to her phone.
In the study, Zhou Lin received a call from Zhou Li.
“I completely forgot something important,” she said.
“What?” Zhou Lin lowered his voice, glancing at Zhou Caijun, who looked utterly exhausted and half-asleep.
“Weapons! The post-apocalyptic world will be dangerous. Without weapons, our food stores will just become someone else’s food stores. If we can’t get firearms, at least stock up on melee weapons—crossbows, bows with optical sights, spears, javelins, steel spikes. And for close combat, machetes and survival knives—make sure they’re high-quality ones.”
Zhou Li’s voice was intense as she rattled off her list for a solid ten minutes. She covered everything from basic melee weapons to military-grade firearms, even discussing how to make homemade explosives, Molotov cocktails, and biochemical agents using the farm’s pesticide stockpile.
Zhou Lin could follow most of it, but when she started talking about using fertilizer and chemicals to craft weapons, he couldn’t help but wonder: Are we even related by blood?
“Dad, what’s your IQ?” he asked after hanging up.
“Me? Back in my day, the university I attended was equivalent to the top-tier 985 schools now. What do you think my IQ is?”
“Then why are you raising pigs?” Zhou Lin asked, genuinely confused.
“For the money, of course. You think 985 graduates can’t raise pigs?” Zhou Caijun retorted.
Zhou Lin scratched his head. “Zhou Li mentioned getting weapons, and she brought up using fertilizer and pesticides. Do we have any at home?”
“She’s got a sharp mind, that one. Can’t believe I never thought of that.” Zhou Caijun’s eyes lit up. “We have fertilizer, though we’re low on urea. The pesticides we stock are low-toxicity, but tomorrow, I’ll buy out the supply from three different farm stores. Good stuff—just needs the right equipment to turn into…”
Zhou Lin tuned out as his father mumbled on. Even if he had listened, he probably wouldn’t have understood.
At this point, he was beginning to suspect that Zhou Li was the true biological child, while he was either an accidental addition or picked up from a garbage dump.
As the eldest son of the family, Zhou Lin felt a deep sense of existential despair.
“Dad, I won’t meddle in all that, but I can get firearms. Oh, and by the way, my little sister already knows I’ve been reborn—and she even guessed I have an ability that lets me store things in a personal space.”
He deliberately left out the aircraft carrier situation, but it was clear he needed to demonstrate some of his abilities. Otherwise, he risked losing his standing in the family.
“We figured you had a spatial ability a while ago,” Zhou Caijun said, barely lifting his eyelids. “We just didn’t mention it since you didn’t.”
Zhou Lin fell silent.
Truly, the only people who would never betray you were your parents.
With a sigh, he accepted their silent understanding.
Their conversation shifted to finances. Zhou Caijun still had seven million in liquid assets, and Cheng Yali had five million last night—how much remained was unclear.
“Use it while you can,” Zhou Lin advised. “In four days, it’ll all be barter trade. A few years from now, survivor bases will introduce credit systems, but those points will only be valid within their respective bases. In the end, real supplies will hold the most value.”
Zhou Caijun nodded. “I get it. By the way, your grandparents and uncle refuse to come. Your mom and I tried everything, but they wouldn’t listen. We couldn’t tell them too much either. Guess we’ll just have to see if we get another chance later.”
The night passed uneventfully.
The only thing that lifted Zhou Lin’s spirits was that his ability had gained more experience points over the past two days.
By the next morning, at 9 AM, he took Ai Bing and Yang Qiqi to the property center.
Surprisingly, the office was brightly lit, and the staff were still working.
However, unlike the usual crowds, the place was nearly empty.
Which worked out perfectly—Zhou Lin completed the process quickly.
Seeing her name on the paperwork, with a full 50% ownership, Ai Bing finally transferred 700,000 yuan to Zhou Lin.
As they stepped out of the office, she beamed. Clutching the folder to her chest, she said, “Zhou Lin, if we hold onto this place for two years, how much do you think it’ll appreciate?”
Zhou Lin didn’t answer.
Just wait a few days—you’ll find out soon enough.
- Writer
