Rebirth: Slice-of-life Cultivation Chapter 1667 - 907: Overestimating Oneself (Part 2)

Five minutes passed, and a soft woman's voice came through the phone, inquiring: "Didn’t you say fifteen minutes? May I ask where you are now?"

Upon hearing the gentle but detached tone, rage boiled in Zhang Chi, prompting a sneer: "Bitch, what's the rush for, trying to hurry us to our graves? I devoured your delivery order myself!"

The soft female voice sounded shocked, pausing for seconds before responding icily: "I’m telling you, you will pay the price for your actions!"

Zhang Chi spat curses: "Sunshine Deer Court, Building 7, Unit 1, Room 602, right? Keep yapping, and I’ll drag your entire family to hell!"

Following that threat, silence fell immediately from the other end.

"Talk! Talk!" Zhang Chi pressed.

No response came; the call simply ended.

Zhang Chi dialed back, but the line kept disconnecting.

Zhang Chi fired off a message: "Dare not pick up? I’ll come hunt you down right now, just try me!"

His next call connected at last.

Zhang Chi barked: "Bitch, apologize to me! Apologize!"

Several seconds of quiet passed before the gentle female voice returned: "Sorry, I was out of line before, I apologize to you, I’m sorry."

Zhang Chi's fury eased considerably, leading him to relent: "I’m in a good mood now, won’t sweat it with you!"

He ended the call and glanced back at the luxurious neighborhood he’d left behind—a realm forever out of reach for common folk. A mocking laugh escaped him: "A bunch of weaklings."

Having assaulted the security guard and berated the customer, the delivery gig arranged by Yan Tianpeng was clearly on its last legs.

Life felt wild and boundless, filling him with a sudden sense of liberation.

Zhang Chi headed to a cozy leisure cafe, opening up the delivery package meant for someone else.

It revealed a family bucket packed with crispy chicken, Orleans wings, Portuguese egg tarts, cola...

"Damn, what a spread—now all mine!"

Zhang Chi savored the KFC family bucket while gazing at the swirling snow beyond the cafe's windows, deeming it utterly tasty.

His phone buzzed; checking it, he saw a call from his rural grandmother.

Recognizing the raspy, dialect-heavy voice, she said: "Grandson, I heard you made good money over New Year. Can we talk about something?"

Zhang Chi envisioned his grandma's unsteady figure and responded: "Grandma, go ahead and say it."

The grandma went on: "Your grandpa tends veggies in the greenhouse, hauls them to market daily—a dozen miles away. His age slows him down; biking's tough now. He wants an electric tricycle..."

"Once grandpa and I sell the produce, we’ll repay you. Can you help out?"

Zhang Chi recalled his grandma, still peddling veggies at markets in her old age, crouching roadside, and his resolve softened.

This winter break had brought decent earnings, so Zhang Chi offered: "I’ll send two thousand yuan via Gou Dan from the village. He’ll deliver it to you—no need to repay. You two stay warm and healthy, dodge the cold illnesses."

With those words, Zhang Chi let out a sigh, burdens weighing heavier.

To his surprise, his grandmother paused before replying: "Grandson, that sum falls short; your grandpa eyes a covered electric tricycle, running seven or eight thousand!"

Zhang Chi froze: "Two thousand won’t cover one?"

Grandpa's booming voice erupted from the speaker: "Impossible! Gou Dan’s grandpa zips around on a seven-to-eight-thousand one!"

...

"Brother Ma, pity you missed it—Dong Qingfeng’s footing the bill today, and this spot’s barbecue is top-notch!"

Guo Kunnan shared a photo, expressing regret on his behalf.

Ma Shicheng replied: "Busy with stuff today, couldn’t join, though it sure looks tempting."

Guo Kunnan, brimming with pride: "That’s my photo skills! Snapped the barbecue earlier and showed Zhou Jinglan—she raved about my Vivo camera, better than her iPhone 6."

"Haha, Brother Ma, does that count as winning her over?"

Ma Shicheng hadn’t meant to spoil the fun at first, but Guo Kunnan’s nonsense went too far, utterly absurd!

He doused the enthusiasm: "She’s got sharp EQ, just flattering you. You buying it?"

Guo Kunnan bristled: "What’s that supposed to mean, Brother Ma? My Vivo really snaps great shots!"

Ma Shicheng: "Ask her what phone she’s eyeing next."

To confirm his point, Guo Kunnan turned to Zhou Jinglan right away: "Jinglan, my phone’s camera rocks—are you grabbing a Vivo next?"

Zhou Jinglan offered a faint smile, tinged with exasperation: "I’m used to iPhone, tons of data stored there."

Guo Kunnan stood stunned.

Glancing down, Ma Shicheng had sent a "clown" emoji.

Guo Kunnan questioned everything, blind to this angle, fully convinced Zhou Jinglan coveted his phone’s prowess.

That realization made him eye the smooth-talking Dong Qingfeng across the table, envy deepening his sense of inadequacy.

Yet, could sheer hard work transform Guo Kunnan into a Dong Qingfeng?

No way—even striving maximally, his born limits capped him like Ah Quan, altering nothing much.

Even someone as standout as Dong Qingfeng—what then? In Class Eight, his all-around skills might not crack the top three.

Truth be told, Guo Kunnan felt lost, surrounded by varied roads yet blind to his own path.

...

At the neighboring Wealthy BBQ.

Jiang Ning got another text from Shen Qing’e: "Post-childbirth, hmm, a two-and-a-half-pound hen sounds right—how many?"

"Just one."

"Got it, I’ll set it up today," Shen Qing’e answered. Though Jiang Ning wanted only one hen, she fretted over details—selecting the perfect bird, delivering incognito.

More head-scratching lay ahead, no doubt.

Jiang Ning noted her acting chops and teased: "Fine, next postpartum purchase, hens from you."

Those casual lines stung Shen Qing’e anew, pain gripping her heart.

What was she to Jiang Ning, really?

Finished with Shen Qing’e, Jiang Ning’s Divine Sense swept elsewhere, his gaze shifting to the window.

Streetlights bathed the falling snow in sparkle. A suited groom and veiled bride posed amid flurries, camera flashes popping relentlessly.

"Wedding photos..." Xue Chuchu watched the couple below, her sparkling eyes alight with delight.

Xue Yuantong caught Chuchu zoning out and grabbed tongs to flip the sizzling beef.

She murmured to Jiang Ning: "Chuchu adores spotting brides—always claims prime viewing at village weddings."

Jiang Ning marveled: "Those short legs of hers sure hustle fast."

Xue Chuchu overheard, eyes flickering in mild embarrassment: ’When will Jiang Ning grow up a tad?’

Lips pursed, she stressed: "I get there early."

Jiang Ning: "No clash there, no clash."

He eyed Tongtong: "You don’t like watching?"

Tongtong munched barbecue nonchalantly: "It’s fine."

Crowds gawking felt off to her; the mere idea made Tongtong squirm, craving Jiang Ning’s shadow for cover.

Jiang Ning mulled it over, catching a flicker of yearning in Xue Chuchu’s gaze.

Though Jiang Ning viewed weddings as consumer traps, as Ma Shicheng noted, the gaokao’s a one-shot deal—why slack on Qingbei dreams?

Still, it boiled down to the individual. Should Xue Chuchu crave extravagance, he’d hustle to deliver; for a simple soul, no big deal.

Worlds hold no absolutes, just fits—for weddings, dowries, lives entire.

Tongtong’s mind proved elusive to Jiang Ning, so he probed: "What runs through your head seeing others wed?"

Xue Yuantong stated plainly: "When do the dishes come out?"

Jiang Ning:...

Xue Chuchu grinned in amusement, ribbing Jiang Ning’s pointless query.