Madam, Please Behave

Liu Changqing had no idea what was going on.

The surge of favorites only stopped when the count neared a hundred thousand.

When he clicked on his novel’s webpage, it took several refreshes before the page loaded completely. What greeted him were blindingly high numbers of clicks, recommendations… and the account that dominated the top of the rewards leaderboard.

“Hiss!!”

Liu Changqing felt like he must be hallucinating. All he saw was a “1” followed by a long string of zeros.

He logged into his chat software.

The moment he entered, his computer practically exploded with notifications, the sound of “ding ding ding” ringing nonstop.

Moving his mouse over, he discovered the barrage was from his editor.

Clicking it open revealed a flood of messages.

It was getting a main push?

He had no clue what was going on. While there had been rewards in the past, they were always small amounts—nothing remotely close to this.

He opened the comments section of his novel. It was flooded with messages from various new readers:

“Checking in, checking in!”

“Taking a group photo for posterity! Rich person, please adopt me!”

“Is this book really that good? Could it be the site’s fake accounts hyping it up?”

Similar comments filled the page, all from a wave of new readers.

Liu Changqing skimmed through them briefly before closing the comment section.

He pieced together what had happened.

He’d been “adopted” by a wealthy patron.

That was the only explanation he could think of.

A reward of ten million reading coins—each coin equating to one cent—amounted to 100,000 yuan.

100,000 yuan???

Was the joy of being rich really this simple?

This world wasn’t the one Liu Changqing had lived in during his past life. Prices here were much lower. A bowl of ramen was less than five yuan, and breakfast only cost three to four yuan to fill you up.

What did 100,000 yuan mean in this world?

Back when the clothing factory hadn’t gone bankrupt, that amount wasn’t a big deal to Liu Changqing. But for the current Liu Changqing, it was astronomical.

When he first arrived in this world, all he faced was being kicked out with nothing but 3,000 yuan in his pocket.

Even then, he had to put on a brave face in front of his kids, reassuring them not to worry about money. But trying to scrape together enough for their tuition in a short time had felt crushing.

His thoughts drifted far away.

Life… seemed to be taking a turn for the better.

Meanwhile, Liu Zhiyue stumbled out of the bookstore, his mind preoccupied with the events of the day.

Two days of high-intensity training had left his entire body sore. On the second day of running, Liu Zhiyue still hadn’t adapted to the rhythm of exercise. After struggling to finish his run, he dropped his sister off at school before dragging his aching body home.

Before he could even lie down, the home phone rang.

Answering it, he heard Liu Changqing’s voice.

The unexpected call left Liu Zhiyue unsure of his father’s intentions, but one thing was clear—there was an unmistakable joy in his tone.

What could have made him so happy?

Liu Zhiyue couldn’t figure it out.

Liu Changqing didn’t go into detail either, simply telling him to visit the bookstore.

When Liu Zhiyue dragged his weary body to the bookstore, he was greeted by his father’s beaming smile.

How long had it been since he’d seen his father smile like that? He couldn’t recall.

However, Liu Changqing’s next move shocked him.

He pulled out 500 yuan.

Staring at the money his father was handing over, Liu Zhiyue froze, standing there dumbfounded.

“What’s the matter, silly boy? Don’t want your pocket money?”

“P-pocket money?”

He glanced at his father’s face, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard.

“Five! Five hundred?”

Back when the clothing factory was still running, Liu Changqing hadn’t skimped on him but wasn’t this generous either. At most, he’d get 100 yuan at a time. When had such a scene ever occurred?

Only during visits to his grandmother’s house had he ever seen this kind of money in a red envelope. But even then, his father would always take it, saying, I’ll hold onto this for you, and pocketing it all.

Of course, he only confiscated Zhiyue’s share. His sister, Liu Xiazhi, was an exception—she always handed her red envelopes to their mother. Back then, their mother managed all the household finances.

“Dad, w-what’s going on? Why are you giving me so much?”

Zhiyue stepped back instinctively, overwhelmed.

“You kid!”

Seeing his son’s reaction, Liu Changqing couldn’t help but chuckle. How could he not understand what was going through Zhiyue’s mind?

At fifteen, Zhiyue was already mature enough to understand their family’s situation. He knew full well how difficult it was for Liu Changqing to raise both him and his sister. Otherwise, Zhiyue wouldn’t have once suggested quitting school to work and earn money.

Looking at his son’s face, Liu Changqing laughed softly, pulling him closer and stuffing the 500 yuan into his hand.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to stress about this family.”

He patted Zhiyue’s head.

“Take 500 yuan. Spend 300 on a nice meal for you and your sister after school, and keep the remaining 200 for yourself.”

“Dad, I…”

“Your sister still holds a grudge against me. If I take her out, she’ll probably throw a tantrum again. You’re her older brother—step up, take care of her, and buy her something nice.”

Liu Changqing’s words made Zhiyue fall silent.

How could he miss the resignation in his father’s voice?

I’ll tell her about this someday… when she’s older, he thought to himself.

Walking out of the bookstore, Zhiyue’s hand brushed the 500 yuan in his pocket.

What should I treat my sister to after school?

He pondered as he walked. His sister seemed to enjoy fried chicken and cakes.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice a car slowing down behind him.

The black-tinted window rolled down, and a woman with deep brown hair and sunglasses peered out at the roadside.

She stared for a while before speaking.

“Zhiyue.”

The words were crisp and clear.

The unexpected voice made Zhiyue freeze in his tracks.

He recognized the owner of that voice instantly.

The car pulled up beside him, and the lowered window aligned perfectly with Zhiyue.

“Why aren’t you in class? Shouldn’t you be in school at this hour?”

“……”

Zhiyue stiffly turned his neck to look at the speaker.

His gaze was filled with complicated emotions.

In his memory, this woman was synonymous with bad experiences and… fear.

Li Wanran’s mother, his grandmother.

A woman who tolerated no dissent, who was authoritarian and uncompromising—a person who wouldn’t allow even a speck of sand in her eyes.

Ye Rong.