Chapter Eight: Playing Innocent

After all this time, there had finally been a slight breakthrough in her relationship with the child, and Mo Nian Nian’s mood instantly improved. “I’m fine, much better now.”

She glanced around the table; the dishes were all light and mild—clearly, the child had put in effort.

“Did you not make egg drop soup today?” she asked.

Whenever the child cooked, there was always a bowl of egg drop soup reserved for her, but today it was missing, prompting her to ask.

“No, we’re out of eggs,” Jiang Hu replied, his fingertips gripping the chopsticks so tightly they turned pale.

That bowl of egg drop soup had, unknowingly, been intended to end her life.

The dosage he used was minuscule, impossible to detect, but over five or ten years, the medicine would slowly erode her organs, causing her death without anyone suspecting a thing.

Because the dose was so small, neither Mo Nian Nian nor the system had noticed. She had narrowly escaped, almost meeting her end in this small world’s twists and turns.

How could someone destined to be so ruthless in the future ever be easy to handle?

Mo Nian Nian was famous in the stunt industry—not only was her technique solid, but she was also incredibly dedicated, accepting any role no matter how difficult.

Even rolling in mud for a scene was never beneath her.

Many queued up to hire her.

Yet, for reasons no one understood, after earning a sum, she would take a month or two off before accepting another job.

She chose her assignments by fate; even if someone offered a high price during her rest period, she wouldn’t join the crew.

Such habits made her both loved and hated by many production teams.

Having just earned a hefty sum, Mo Nian Nian returned to her lazy, carefree days, refusing to work until she’d spent her last cent—though fighting was admittedly satisfying.

Since the last incident, for reasons unknown, the child’s guard against her had dropped considerably. In front of her, he was obedient and sensible, growing more and more like the cat she once had.

She’d been fond of that cat, but it had run away, whereabouts unknown.

The relationship between Jiang Hu and Mo Nian Nian had progressed rapidly. Jiang Hu discovered that Mo Nian Nian was easily swayed by childish affection.

Once he realized this, he certainly didn’t let it go.

From awkward beginnings to natural familiarity, Jiang Hu mastered the art in just two weeks.

The days of extreme fear and dread were drifting further and further from Jiang Hu.

Now, life felt so wonderful, it was like living in a dream.

In the past, under Mo Nian Nian’s abuse and threats, Jiang Hu suffered chronic malnutrition; at sixteen, he looked no older than eleven or twelve.

Now, living with Mo Nian Nian, things weren’t exactly perfect, but at least he was never hungry—his nutrition was sufficient.

In just one semester, Jiang Hu shot up from five feet to nearly six, a transformation so astonishing it left people speechless.

He was no longer frail; gone was the sickly look that seemed ready to vanish in the wind. He’d gained some flesh, grown into his features, his appearance was striking and handsome.

He’d also pestered Mo Nian Nian to teach him martial arts, which had greatly improved his demeanor.

In the blink of an eye, Mo Nian Nian had lived in this little world for two years.

Through these two years, Jiang Hu’s malice value had gradually dissipated—not much, but it was a glimmer of hope, and Mo Nian Nian felt gratified.

After graduating from university, Mo Nian Nian chose to remain in the stunt profession. Compared to others, she preferred stunts: it was simple, paid well, and allowed her to indulge her itchy hands.

Her reputation in the entertainment industry soared. Directors everywhere knew of her, and in these two years, period dramas had become all the rage—eight out of ten shows airing were historical.

Audiences now favored martial arts themes, and every time Mo Nian Nian appeared, her scenes received rave reviews.

Thus, more and more directors offered hefty sums to invite her to their sets.

But her peculiar habit remained unchanged. After filming one show, she’d rest for at least two months.

At present, she lounged on the sofa, enjoying cola and chips—whatever else might be said, these snacks were truly delicious. She regretted having wasted so much time before.

She could hardly imagine how, with the fasting pills, she’d survived those long years, occasionally satisfying cravings with the bare minimum.

Her past self had truly suffered.

Mo Nian Nian ate happily, feeling she could live like this for decades more.

The young cub was growing more obedient too. Once her mission was complete, she planned to stay a few more years and sample every delicacy in the world.

While Mo Nian Nian was mapping out her future, Jiang Hu returned.

At eighteen, Jiang Hu stood six foot one, his legs long, his figure a perfect golden ratio—broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long limbs.

He wore a white t-shirt, the fringe of his hair dampened by sweat, a few droplets tracing his picturesque brows and eyes.

Beneath his high nose, his lips were cool and indifferent, pressed lightly together.

At a glance, he could crash into countless hearts—his beauty seemed to shatter the heavens.

No wonder, even after all the mistakes he made in the future, countless people would defend him. Frankly, with looks like his, even if it was truly his fault, they'd slap themselves instead.

Even though Mo Nian Nian had seen him many times, she was still caught off guard by his handsomeness. She stared openly; after all, the appreciation of beauty is a universal instinct.

This boy, who knew how many people’s youth he would become in the future?

Mo Nian Nian couldn’t help but sigh: youth was truly a blessing.

Jiang Hu looked over and flashed a brilliant smile at her, dazzling enough to blind the eyes.

“Sis, I’m back.”

Mo Nian Nian had tried countless times to correct his form of address, but he never changed, so she gave up.

Let him be—he’s handsome, he has his reasons.

Noticing sweat on his forehead, she asked, “Did you go to the basketball club again today?”

“Mm, just for a bit.” Jiang Hu’s smile bent his eyes. “I haven’t seen you for a week, Sis. I missed you so much.”

Mo Nian Nian had heard such words so often her ears were calloused, but looking at his face… she couldn’t help but be moved.

Jiang Hu put his bag in his room. “Sis, wait a moment. I’ll shower and then cook. What would you like today? Sweet and sour ribs or braised pork?”

Mo Nian Nian’s eyes brightened, indecisive. Jiang Hu laughed, “Got it—I’ll make both. Just wait.”

Jiang Hu returned to his room, which had been upgraded from the small storage space to the secondary bedroom next to Mo Nian Nian’s.

It was her parents’ legacy, not small in size, and far better than his previous conditions.

Expressionless, he took off his shirt, revealing bruises all over his body—wounds that certainly didn’t come from playing basketball.