I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2249 - 1432: Two ’So’s (Part 2)

Meanwhile, one swung wildly in the air while yelling, as the other lounged silently in the living room, eyes glued to the television.

Neither disturbed the other.

What a picture of perfect harmony.

Those three episodes would take at least two hours to watch.

Even the Martial Saint here can't match the free-spirited bliss of the Great Sage Equalling Heaven.

Lan Peizhi had no real intention of acting, yet this seemingly innocent and virtuous Taoist nun appeared remarkably decisive in her actions.

Right now, Lan Peizhi might have truly abandoned any plans to whisk away the Martial Saint, turning instead to her junior sister amid her brother's grumbles and woes.

"What show?"

My goodness!

The Martial Saint's face went stiff, utterly stunned, his mouth hanging open wide enough to swallow an egg whole.

Li Shuru couldn't suppress a chuckle.

Everyone around this table was no ordinary soul.

"Westworld."

Tsk tsk.

This young Taoist nun's progress was astonishingly swift, leaping from local movies to international ones, and from martial arts tales to sci-fi wonders.

Kant never left his native Konigsberg, but he shaped global philosophy.

Especially in today's information era.

Grasping the world's truths no longer demands endless travel on foot.

Who could guess how much Duanmu Taoist had sharpened her mind while minding the child.

"Sis, each episode of Westworld is an hour long!"

The Martial Saint kept whining, eyes nearly brimming with tears, but his sister paid him no mind, diving into a chat about the show with Sister Liuli.

"Eat."

Li Shuru shot him a pointed glance as a nudge.

Watching the two women bond like longtime friends, the Martial Saint dropped his crazy ideas, channeling his frustration into hunger, and dove headfirst into his food.

Yet a boy remains a boy at heart.

He doesn't nurse grudges like grown-ups, who stew in quiet resentment.

Soon enough, the Martial Saint lifted his head once more. "Sister Shuru, what's Brother Jiang Chen been up to lately? Haven't heard from him in ages."

Li Shuru let out a laugh.

Seriously now.

Does a middle-schooler like you expect special check-ins from him?

"He's swamped with major affairs."

Li Shuru answered with a gentle smile.

"Oh, I wonder what big fuss Brother Jiang Chen's caught up in—nothing beats this family meal."

This kid sure knew how to deflect, and one had to admit, he had some depth to him.

After all, with Brother Jiang Chen absent, no harm done since he neither heard nor saw—the kid lost nothing and couldn't be accused of malice.

He truly idolized Brother Jiang Chen.

"Well, don't pick up his habits later on."

Li Shuru nodded, her words laced with enigma, tough to decipher.

The Martial Saint looked baffled, peering at Sister Shuru, clearly lost.

"Learn what?"

He blurted out on reflex.

Li Shuru kept eating in silence.

A spark lit in the Martial Saint's mind; he seemed to catch on, switching his tune. "Sister Shuru, don't fault Brother Jiang Chen—he's just caught in the grind too. Life's full of trade-offs: you gain in one area, lose in another. The higher you climb, the less time for yourself."

The Martial Saint embodied flip-flopping perfectly, though someone present would likely feel moved, perhaps even urging the Taoist sister to go easy on him.

Indeed so.

Siblings share the deepest bonds.

"Brother Jiang Chen's got it rough as well."

Gazing at the steaming dishes, the Martial Saint heaved a heavy sigh, plunging further into waves of sympathy.

Did Brother Jiang Chen not crave this dinner?

Of course he did.

Li Shuru stayed mute on the Martial Saint's "mature insights", but Lan Peizhi broke in.

"Finish your food, then head upstairs to study."

Naturally.

Parents the world over share this trait.

No matter the cozy vibe, studies always demand priority.

"I haven't finished yet."

"Then eat faster, wrap it up, and go study."

"..."

"..."

Li Shuru pressed her plush lips together, casting an inevitable look at Tanki Liuli.

Surprisingly, Tanki Liuli sensed it too, returning the gaze without hesitation.

Under his elder sister's firm push, the Martial Saint cleared the table prematurely, downing one bowl of rice before being shooed upstairs—though he'd eyed a refill.

On the stairs, he halted, sneaking a quiet glance back, but caught no sounds.

"Sigh."

He let out a quiet breath, turned away, and trudged up to his room.

"The Martial Saint outshines kids his age by far; he won't lag behind anyone down the line."

"What's wrong with farming?"

A calm, gentle question.

No rejection intended.

"Well, farming's fine—sunup to sundown, peaceful and relaxed—but what one aims to become hinges on personal drive."

Li Shuru smiled faintly. "Like Miss Lan, the Martial Saint's got strong views too; he knows rural life isn't for him, much like Miss Lan perhaps."

"How do you know he's like me?"

Li Shuru fell quiet for a beat. "If Miss Lan enjoyed village life, she wouldn't be the person she is today, would she?"

Lan Peizhi's lips twitched faintly upward as she eyed the woman opposite—someone she'd met only a handful of times, yet who grew bolder and more direct each encounter—though she held her tongue.

Seemed like it.

These siblings did mirror each other.

Both hailed from village roots.

But in truth.

How could they truly match?

Family legacies pass to sons.

The Martial Saint could opt to till the soil or chase dreams abroad, but she faced no such luxury back then.

Were she in his shoes.

There might be no Lan Peizhi today; instead, in some obscure Sichuan village off any map, a hardworking farmwife could have toiled.

By age reckoning.

She might now bask with grandkids at her feet.

Much like.

That village fellow who could've escaped but chose to stay, with his pair of loquat trees out front.

Perched in a lavish East Sea mansion, Lan Peizhi felt a sudden haze settle over her.

Truly.

No peak achiever escapes time's relentless grind—it wears not just the flesh, but seeps into mind and spirit.

Back in her youth.

Such thoughts never crossed her.

Li Shuru spotted the other's distant gaze and hushed up, dining wordlessly.

With fewer words exchanged, Tanki Liuli devoted her focus properly, slurping down bowl after bowl of soup long after her meal ended.

Yet she'd picked up social graces; even stuffed to the brim, she set down her utensils without departing, just waiting patiently.

"Is there something you'd like to talk about with me?"

After roughly thirty seconds, Lan Peizhi shattered the quiet once more.

Building rapport?

If that was the goal, it'd served its turn.

Obviously.

The Martial Saint excuse was mere cover.

Adult dealings never drag kids into the mix.

"Jinhai Industry plans to fund a second new energy vehicle plant in Kyoto—has Miss Lan caught wind of it?"

No dodging now that the topic surfaced.

Lan Peizhi stayed silent, signaling Li Shuru to press on.

"It was set to be a win-win deal: the new plant boosts Morning Light's output massively, cuts wait times for buyers, and fuels the new energy sector plus its supply chains."

Maybe.

All that sounded like fluff.

But small talk oils the wheels of life.

Don't question it.

Skip the chit-chat, and human connections skyrocket in effort.

"So, how's Jinhai's project faring?"

Lan Peizhi speared a slice of mandarin fish, savoring it slowly.

"Rough going—hit by mysterious roadblocks. Without swift fixes, Jinhai's Kyoto factory dream is doomed to fail."

"Jinhai's Chairman Shi is my friend."

Li Shuru volunteered it upfront, no prompt needed, framing her involvement as nosy yet fair and sound.

"So, what does that have to do with me?"

Two sharp 'so's pierced straight to the heart.

Li Shuru kept her poise, posture perfect, flashing an elegant grin.

"Miss Lan

is also my friend."