According to Wang Yuyan, she had been only six or seven at the time.
A seven- or eight-year-old had to hand-wash laundry—and only her own?
That's downright toxic.
He simply couldn't picture such a life.
His own parents would never have done anything like that to him.
Women really shouldn't make life harder for one another.
Wang Yuyan went on: 'After school each day I came home to housework. The moment I tried to do homework my Stepmother called me lazy. When Dad finally got back I had to watch the three of them laughing and playing like some perfect family while I stood on the sidelines.'
'Dad never once carried me on his back, yet every morning he'd carry my little brother to school. Not a single toy in the house was mine. I felt like an outsider.'
Jiang Cheng couldn't hold back: 'So why has your Stepmother come looking for you now?'
'She wants money. She got into WeChat business and lost some cash recently.'
'WeChat business?'
Seeing his confusion, Wang Yuyan nodded. 'Yes—those people who flood WeChat moments with product posts and try to sell you stuff.'
Jiang Cheng's current circle didn't include any, but in his previous life his moments feed had been full of them.
Come to think of it, these were exactly the boom years for that racket.
Even a few celebrities endorsed those products.
The model was peculiar.
Open moments and you'd find long-lost classmates suddenly claiming to be 'top-tier agents' or even 'co-founders' overnight.
Next, these once-ordinary friends started flaunting sudden wealth.
Their feeds showed off new cars, new houses, or vacation photos—supposedly all from selling the product.
Then they'd push the items themselves—brands you'd never heard of.
After hyping the product came the spam.
Screenshots of fake sales, mountains of shipping boxes, and chat logs showing hordes of buyers.
On top of that they'd like your posts and strike up chats, hinting they could make you rich too.
Wang Yuyan nodded. 'She's been at it two years. Dad said she paid to represent some skincare line. At first she sold a few boxes to relatives who couldn't say no.'
'Once those sold she thought it was easy money, so she sank tens of thousands into stock to become a "top agent", posting every day—but after the boxes arrived only relatives bought, and even they stopped after a round or two.'
Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow.
'For ordinary people it looked like the new big thing, but the model borders on pyramid selling—pay for rank, recruit downlines. Difference is you get boxes of unregulated junk instead of nothing at all.'
'Exactly. She floods her feed with fake orders generated on a computer. Relatives bought once or twice, then quit.'
Jiang Cheng shrugged. 'Your social circle is only so big; lousy products just burn goodwill. Unless you keep finding new buyers you're just a blade of leek waiting to be chopped. Some do make millions, most don't.'
Wang Yuyan pressed her lips together. 'Anyone can see those creams are trash, yet she demanded I push them to my contacts, insisting I must know rich clients. When I refused she ran to Dad—he worships money; he called me an ungrateful wretch.'
'So she came all this way just to move product?'
Wang Yuyan gave a small shake of her head. 'That's only part of it…'
Before she could finish, a crisp ringtone sounded.
Her phone lit up with the name Wang Junhao.
Seeing it, Wang Yuyan frowned.
'It's Dad. darling, don't speak—I don't want them knowing about you; it'd mean trouble.'
Jiang Cheng understood at once.
When he nodded, she answered and put the call on speaker.
A deep, authoritative voice came through: 'Where are you?'
The blunt question startled her.
She hesitated, then asked, 'What do you want?'
Wang Junhao's volume shot up: 'I asked where you are and you throw it back at me? Won't you even call me Dad?'
Anger flashed through her, but she kept her voice level. 'Say what you need or I'm hanging up.'
A roar burst from the phone: 'Unfilial girl! I raised you, paid for school, found you a job—and this is how you repay me? Why aren't you at work? Your mother went to the hotel and the manager said you took leave.'
'What does she want? That's my workplace—have you thought how that makes me look?'
Wang Junhao grumbled, 'Why won't you help? Other daughters aren't like this. You don't answer calls or reply on WeChat.'
'You know people—introduce a few customers. Good profits should stay in the family! Even distant relatives buy something, yet you won't lift a finger!'
Her eyes reddened as she fought back tears. She drew a slow breath. 'Dad, you know those are fake, unregulated creams. My clients use real brands. This is Shanghai; guests in a luxury hotel aren't short of money—how could I peddle that junk? She even brings masks to my workplace. What will my colleagues think?'