This was Ji Chenai’s first Spring Festival with the Zhou family.

Back at his old home, Ji Chenai had always disliked this holiday. To his grandparents, he was never truly considered part of the Ji family. In their eyes, only Ji Suiming was their real grandson. Ji Chenai, on the other hand, was just the illegitimate child of a mistress—someone who didn’t belong.

Every year during the festival, Ji Chenai had to endure not only the cold indifference of his grandparents but also the veiled mockery from Ji Zhongming’s relatives. Adding to that, Shen Shuya had severed ties with her family and never went back for the Spring Festival. As a result, for Ji Chenai, this holiday was nothing but pure torment.

The atmosphere at the Zhou family’s celebration, however, was entirely different. Whether it was his parents or the extended relatives, everyone was considerate of Zhou Yaoqin’s feelings. Wang Zhixiu even asked Ji Chenai how he would like to spend the festival. If he preferred a quieter time, they could just celebrate as a small family.

Wang Zhixiu had a close bond with her sisters, and Ji Chenai didn’t want to make things difficult for her because of him. So, he simply said he was fine with anything—they could celebrate however they liked.

Considering her son’s injured leg, Wang Zhixiu decided to hold the New Year’s Eve dinner at their own home.

Her elder sister, Wang Zhiping, was particularly grateful to Ji Chenai for what he had done for Lu Yuanyuan. When she arrived, she brought along a generous stack of gifts for him. According to her, if Ji Chenai hadn’t had a good talk with Lu Yuanyuan and helped her untangle her inner struggles, she, as a mother, wouldn’t have known what to do.

During the Spring Festival, Zhou Leling—whom Ji Chenai had met once during the summer break—also came over. After the amusement park incident with the pickpocket, her opinion of Ji Chenai had changed drastically. She had never liked this gloomy and quick-tempered cousin of hers, but that event made her see him in a new light.

The New Year’s Eve dinner, prepared by Wang Zhixiu and her sisters, was a feast. That evening, the entire family gathered around the table, eating while watching the Spring Festival Gala. The atmosphere was warm and lively. Ji Chenai couldn’t help but envy this kind of family dynamic, and he even ended up eating a few extra bowls of rice.

As midnight approached, Zhou Yaoyun called.

Ji Chenai picked up the phone and immediately heard Zhou Yaoyun’s slightly breathless voice.

“Chenai, Happy New Year.”

Holding the phone, Ji Chenai gazed at the fireworks outside, listening to the crackling of firecrackers. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.

“Mm, Happy New Year.”

Zhou Yaoyun sighed. “Man, I’m so jealous of you. We don’t celebrate the New Year here, only Christmas.”

“When are you coming back?” Ji Chenai asked. Zhou Yaoyun had been gone for almost four months now.

“Mm… still a while to go,” Zhou Yaoyun replied. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will. You too.”

Zhou Yaoyun let out a low chuckle. “Chenai, I’m really, really happy.”

The two chatted about this and that until Wang Zhixiu came in and interrupted the call, asking Ji Chenai if he wanted some dumplings.

After hanging up, Ji Chenai was ushered into the kitchen by Wang Zhixiu to scoop himself a bowl of dumplings. He sat in front of the TV, holding the warm bowl in his hands, waiting for the countdown to midnight. For some reason, his mood had never been this good.

What Wang Zhixiu and Zhou Yumian gave him was something his old family never could.

Later, in a quieter moment, Zhou Leling pulled Ji Chenai aside and asked him privately, “Where did Zhou Yaoyun go? Did he go back to his biological parents?”

Ji Chenai shook his head. “I don’t know.” Then, after a brief pause, he added, “By the way, who exactly are his biological parents?”

Zhou Leling gave him a strange look. “How do you not know? Back when Yaoyun was leaving… wasn’t it you who stopped him?”

Ji Chenai froze. He had no memory of that.

Zhou Leling continued, “His parents even offered to pay for you to go abroad for treatment, but you still refused…”

Ji Chenai quickly suppressed the flicker of shock in his eyes and forced a chuckle. “Well… guess I was just young and stubborn.”

Zhou Leling sighed. “Ah, well, that’s all in the past. But honestly, I like you a lot better now.”

After saying that, the girl seemed to realize how awkward it sounded. She cleared her throat and quickly added, “Uh, I was just talking nonsense. Don’t take it too seriously.”

Ji Chenai smiled faintly. He really wanted to ask Xiao Qi just how many of his memories were still locked away. So far, it seemed that most of Zhou Yaoqin’s important memories were sealed.

But Xiao Qi was completely indifferent to Ji Chenai’s concerns. It simply said, “What’s the point of knowing? The past is the past—just let it go. The only reason the system left you with a portion of Zhou Yaoqin’s memories was to help you blend in and avoid suspicion. It was never meant to reveal everything he had done.”

What could Ji Chenai even say to that? It wasn’t like he could drag Xiao Qi out and give it a good beating. In the end, he could only begrudgingly accept this outcome. And so, he remained in the dark about Zhou Yaoyun’s parents and what they did.

After New Year’s Eve came the first day of the lunar new year. Wang Zhixiu and Zhou Yumian planned to visit Zhou Yaoqin’s grandparents’ graves, but since Ji Chenai still had trouble walking, he had to stay home.

Before leaving, Wang Zhixiu gave him a few reminders, then she and Zhou Yumian headed out early in the morning.

With no one else at home, Ji Chenai decided it was a good time to practice walking. Thanks to the beginner-level healing he had used, he could now take a few shaky steps on his own. Though his movements were still unsteady, at least he was standing.

As he supported himself against the wall and took slow, careful steps, his emotions were incredibly mixed. From the moment he was told he’d be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, he had never once imagined he’d have the chance to stand again.

Xiao Qi informed him that once his energy level reached Level 2, he’d be able to walk without any issues. However, getting started was always the hardest part. The easiest ways to earn energy were limited, but now that Ji Chenai had unlocked his first skill, things would be much simpler. All he had to do was find online posts overflowing with negative energy and use “The Slanderer’s Redemption”—which would allow him to absorb a significant amount of energy in one go.

Ji Chenai was having an easy time, but the internet’s hired trolls were suffering. The worst incident happened when a celebrity paid a massive group of trolls to spread false rumors and slander a competitor.

Ji Chenai had been casually browsing the gossip forums out of boredom when Xiao Qi suddenly alerted him that the negative energy levels were off the charts. Without hesitation, he used his skill on the post. The result? The trolls sitting behind their screens found themselves completely unable to control their actions—gleefully exposing the entire scheme themselves.

The celebrity who had hired them instantly became infamous, and their reputation plummeting overnight.

As this kind of thing kept happening, people started to get suspicious. However, instead of suspecting anything supernatural, they assumed someone was intentionally infiltrating troll groups to act as a double agent.

Ji Chenai was more than happy to see the situation unfold this way. He continued watching the drama unfold, unbothered. After all, Xiao Qi’s existence was so beyond comprehension that almost no one would ever consider such a possibility.

Xiao Qi, for its part, wasn’t the least bit worried. It confidently reassured him, “Once you reach Level 2, you’ll unlock the Obfuscation System. By then, even if someone does suspect you, it won’t matter.”

Hearing this, Ji Chenai felt a little more at ease. However, what concerned him most at the moment was how much positive energy he actually needed to reach Level 2. Over the past few days, he had earned about 3,000 energy points just by using his skill on various posts. Yet, despite that, he still had no idea how much more he needed to level up.

After the New Year, Zhou Yaoyun became increasingly busy, and the frequency of his emails to Ji Chenai dropped. However, he still managed to send one every week. Most of the emails were filled with trivial chatter, leaving Ji Chenai clueless about what Zhou Yaoyun was actually up to.

Then, near the end of February, Ji Chenai received an email from Zhou Yaoyun—along with several attached photos. The subject line read: “Something good happened!”

Ji Chenai clicked on it and found a few pictures of a man. He took a closer look and realized, to his surprise, that the man in the photos was none other than his brother, Ji Suming but that wasn’t the most shocking part.

The real kicker was that in the photos, Ji Suming was kissing another man.

The images were crystal clear, though it was obvious they had been taken secretly. Beneath the pictures, Zhou Yaoyun had added a casual note:

“I heard your brother had a falling-out with your dad.”

Ji Chenai: “……”

Right. Because apparently, “I heard” now meant “I have photographic evidence.”

At the end of the email, Zhou Yaoyun very sincerely insisted that he had taken these photos “by accident.” Not that it mattered anymore—because, as it turned out, Ji Suming had already come out to Ji Mingzhong just two months after Ji Chenai’s supposed “death.”

And, given Ji Mingzhong’s temperament, the revelation that his son was with a man nearly sent him into a rage-induced coma. He had beaten Ji Suming black and blue before giving him an ultimatum:

If you insist on being with a man, then get the hell out of the Ji family.

Ji Suming didn’t hesitate for a second—he packed up and left without looking back. He had never felt any real attachment to Ji Mingzhong. When his mother fell ill and passed away, Ji Mingzhong had been out fooling around. And less than a year after her death, he had shamelessly brought his mistress into the house.

In truth, Ji Suming didn’t harbor much resentment toward his younger brother, Ji Chenai. The person he despised the most in that household had always been their father, Ji Mingzhong.

Ji Chenai read through the email, but it barely stirred any emotions in him. The memories of his time as Ji Chenai were becoming increasingly hazy. Looking at all of this now, he felt no anger, no sadness—just a strange sense of detachment, as if it all belonged to another lifetime.

At the end of the email, Zhou Yaoyun casually added that he would continue “digging around” for Ji family gossip. And if Ji Chenai was ever curious about anything… he only had to ask.

Ji Chenai stared at the screen, not quite sure how to respond to Zhou Yaoyun’s relentless dedication to snooping.

After thinking for a moment, Ji Chenai replied: “No need to keep tabs on them. I don’t care what happens over there.”

After sending the email, he glanced at the photos again. Just as he was about to delete the message, something made him pause. The man kissing Ji Suming looked oddly familiar.

Frowning, Ji Chenai dug through his memories. Then it hit him—he had seen this man before. On Zhou Yaoyun’s birthday, at that café. He was the guy walking a big dog.

So now the real question was…

Was his brother Ji Suming the one on top, or the one on the bottom?

And why was he even curious about this?

Ji Chenai silently moved his mouse away from the delete button.

=^_^=