I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2734 - 1698: Want to Know? I’ll Take You

"A bellyful of sorrows that seem endless, the hardships endured over three years of long labor ~"

The fluctuating operatic voice drifted into his ears, and Jiang Chen couldn’t help but look towards the stage, astonished to see Wu Guangjiang performing with precision.

"Your dad has this kind of talent?"

"That guy’s just messing around drunk!"

Martial Saint was annoyed, yet helpless; would he really go out now and drag him back?

He couldn’t afford to lose face like that.

"Is this... Huangmei opera?"

Jiang Chen asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, Huangmei opera’s ’Encounter on the Road’ from ’Heavenly Fairy Match’."

Jiang Chen tilted his head, gazing at Martial Saint who effortlessly recognized the tune, finding it unsurprising.

After all, the village the Wu Family belonged to respected opera culture deeply.

Can you believe a village has a running opera theater?

Jiang Chen picked up his fan again, swaying his head and rhythmically tapping the table in accompaniment.

Since it’s ’Heavenly Fairy Match’, it certainly wasn’t a solo performance by Wu Guangjiang.

At Qinyuan, customers might not be gods, but reasonable requests would always be fulfilled.

Singing a segment of Huangmei opera certainly falls within the realm of "reasonable".

So a graceful, classical young beauty as a partner.

"Brother, don’t cry, I have advice for you.

You are like a willow beaten by frost, but wait for spring, and you’ll turn green again.

I, too, have matters of sorrow, both of us born of bitterness.

I originally lived in Penglai Village, journeying thousands of miles to seek kin.

Who would’ve thought family and friends are nowhere to be found, sighing at life’s loneliness.

As long as brother doesn’t mind, I’m willing to marry you ~"

While the three men pursued elegance at Qinyuan.

Lan’s mother was already sitting at the highest level of the Eastern Star.

"Honghong, are you always staying at the hotel?"

Like the suspended glass suites of the Oriental Pearl, this place also offers a view over the East Sea, yet Lan’s mother appeared neither joyful nor excited, her wrinkles more apparent, filled entirely with concern for her daughter.

No matter how high-end, luxurious, or opulent a hotel is, it remains a soulless concrete structure, cloaked in a cold and glamorous garb, unable to bring warmth.

"How many days do you plan to play?"

Lan Peizhi evaded the question, indeed tolerant; the three men were already senseless, yet she showed no sign of dizziness.

Lan’s mother opened her mouth, then smiled gently, speaking softly: "Your dad and I came just to see you and your brother. Now that we’ve seen you, we can leave tomorrow."

Lan Peizhi remained silent, brewed a cup of tea, placed it before her mother, then sat on a single armchair.

"Thank you."

Do words of thanks exist between mother and daughter?

"Honghong, don’t blame Jiang, Jiang has no ill intentions. As a rural woman, I lack insight, unable to compare with you, but I feel that this child is truly good."

"Including today, this is your second meeting."

Lan Peizhi replied.

"I haven’t spent much time with him, but understanding a person doesn’t have an absolute relationship with time spent. Some people don’t see clearly even after a lifetime together."

"When advising others, you must first consider your own credentials. Are you doing well?"

A heroine is indeed a heroine.

Even before her own mother, she’s so forthright.

No.

Perhaps to her, such words had already been tactfully handled.

Like the term "credentials".

If replaced with "eligibility", it would obviously be more appropriate, though slightly more sharp.

Lan’s mother felt no embarrassment, her eyes fixed on the steaming cup of tea.

"Honghong, your dad may have many shortcomings—traditional, narrow-minded, vain, ostentatious... but to me, in this lifetime, he has been quite decent."

"Really."

Lan’s mother reached out, held the cup in her palms, "Different people have different expectations, which yield different feelings. I... am quite content."

If Martial Saint were here, he would’ve already slammed the table and jumped up, berating his father thoroughly, but Lan Peizhi only nodded calmly.

"Life is lived by oneself. If one feels satisfied, that’s enough."

Lan’s mother raised the porcelain cup, took a sip of tea, the warm liquid flowing down her throat, spreading warmth throughout her heart.

"Of course, your dad can’t compare with Jiang. In every aspect, Jiang is far superior to your dad."

Lan’s mother meant well.

This cannot be doubted.

But this comparison... whether appropriate isn’t known.

Lan Peizhi’s lips curled slightly, a semblance of a smile.

"If he knew he’s being compared with Wu Guangjiang, he probably wouldn’t be happy."

Lan’s mother faltered, realizing what she’d said, slightly flustered: "I mean, Jiang is a man worthy of entrustment."

Really.

A man worthy of entrustment, who is married?

Lan Peizhi still preferred not to speak much; if she were to reveal the truth, someone’s carefully crafted image would undoubtedly collapse, yet she said nothing.

"If you ever want to go somewhere, just tell me. The world has quite a few sceneries worth exploring."

Boss Jiang’s hundred squat exercises weren’t done in vain.

What he said in the mother-infant room touched this indifferent Guanyin to some extent.

Lan’s mother looked at her daughter, surprised and even shocked, momentarily doubting if she were hearing things.

"Living in that village all your life, don’t you get tired?"

Lan Peizhi proved to her that what she heard wasn’t a hallucination.

Lan’s mother was deeply moved, filled with mixed emotions; for other families, it might be negligible, but for their family... only she knows how hard-earned this is.

She didn’t dare ask her daughter if she still blamed her.

"As a rural woman, I understand nothing, where could I go."

"Without Wu Guangjiang, can you not live?"

Lan’s mother smiled bitterly.

"Your dad and I have been together for more than half a lifetime, nearly fifty years, like chopsticks; neither can live without the other."

"Have you ever considered that perhaps it’s only you who thinks this way."

Lan’s mother tightened her grip on the teacup, hesitated, struggled, but finally gathered the courage.

"Honghong, your dad, he’s long known his mistake. If time could be rewound..."

Lan Peizhi didn’t stop her; it was Lan’s mother who couldn’t continue.

Not every mistake can be compensated for.

Just as there’s no time machine in the world at all.

"After celebrating your brother’s birthday, we’ll return. This time in the East Sea, seeing your lives, your dad and I are truly satisfied. Honghong, your intentions, I understand and appreciate deeply. This world’s sceneries, you helping us see them is just the same. To grow old with your dad in the village, I have no regrets, truly satisfied."

Lan’s mother finished her sentences with a smile, sipping tea, each wrinkle resembling moonlit fields, radiating peace.

Lan Peizhi didn’t speak.

Suddenly.

A phone ringtone broke the serene atmosphere.

Lan Peizhi picked up her phone, pressed the answer button, and held it to her ear.

Whatever was said on the other end, Lan Peizhi soon put the phone down.

"Do you know where Wu Guangjiang is right now?"

She asked, seemingly perplexed.

A traditional rural role model like Lan’s mother naturally had no idea, answering instinctively: "He should... have returned to the Oriental Pearl to rest."

Lan Peizhi didn’t comment, her face like a deep pool without ripples, yet unsettling.

"You rest first."

Seeing her daughter rise, Lan’s mother, deeply connected, felt an unusual foreboding, hurriedly placing the teacup down.

"Honghong, did something happen? Could it be your dad... he drank so much alcohol... aren’t Martial Saint and Jiang with him?"

Lan’s mother instinctively associated it with negativity.

Yes.

Negative indeed.

Originally intending to leave on her own, Lan Peizhi turned to her worried-looking mother, silent for a long time.

Lan’s mother grew more anxious, her mind racing towards news of dire accidents caused by intoxication.

A person’s imagination is determined by their mindset.

"Honghong, what exactly happened?"

Lan’s mother’s eyes quivered, yearning to know yet fearing the knowledge.

"Want to know?"

"I’ll take you."

Lan Peizhi walked out.

Lan’s mother clasped her hands, following quickly in step.