2: Parenting points +1 with footnote
Daily missions?
Ye Susu narrowed her eyes and placed the cooking spatula in the empty bowl beside her.
This clan’s cultivation system had become much friendlier now.
It was completely different from the brutal missions of the past, like surviving as a stray cat.
Now, all she had to do was raise a child?
Her heart immediately wavered. Could this be the legendary life of lazy, carefree luxury?
Even though she had never given birth herself, she had seen countless mother cats raise their young. How could she not know how to care for a cub?
Right then and there, she grinned and gave the little boy’s fluffy head another stroke.
Mission 2: Engage in a loving interaction with the cub.
Mutual grooming, which cats loved most—definitely loving!
Pleased, she stroked his hair a couple more times, thinking that this child’s hair must have been inherited from her current body—soft, fluffy, short, and fine, a premium texture that felt wonderful to touch.
But her moment of blissful absorption didn’t last long before she realized no mission completion notification had sounded.
She gradually stopped her actions and instead felt the little head beneath her hand growing increasingly stiff. The boy even hunched his shoulders, as if he were quite uncomfortable.
[Your cub feels uncomfortable. Please stop this action.]
[Warning: First offense.]
[If warnings exceed three times in one day, the cub will turn to darkness.]
“???”
Ye Susu’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Could it be that, as a human now, her grooming technique was wrong?
While she was pondering this, the child had already hopped off the small stool like a frightened rabbit, darting to a corner and pressing himself against the refrigerator. His pitch-black eyes stared back at her, filled with confusion and alarm.
As if she had committed some heinous crime against him.
What sin!
Ye Susu inwardly groaned.
This cub wasn’t ordinary.
His rough, worn clothes, his helping with cooking, his fear of his mother—all pointed to an unhappy childhood and a psyche wounded by trauma.
Her sudden attempt at closeness had only made him uneasy.
“When… when the water boils, I’ll call Mommy…” He hung his head, appearing to study his small Mickey Mouse slippers intently.
Ye Susu gave a bitter smile.
According to the body’s memories, this child’s birth had ignited an even more desperate obsession in the original Ye Susu to marry into wealth.
Because that night had taken place in a luxury suite of a five-star hotel, she was convinced, almost obsessively, that the child’s father was a wealthy man. If she could just find that one-night-stand partner, she believed she would secure a life of riches and glory.
She didn’t resent the situation; instead, she saw it as an opportunity. She even deliberately named the child Ye Xun (“Xun” meaning “to seek”).
But she had just turned eighteen back then, impatient and ambitious. What did she know about raising a child? Ye Xun was haphazardly raised into an exceptionally timid, withdrawn boy afraid of people.
After her disfigurement and descent into despair, she abandoned this poor child.
“Mommy… you should go to work.”
The little one bit his lip, then cautiously looked up, stealing another glance at her.
Finally, his gaze settled somewhat forlornly on the refrigerator beside him, which towered over his small frame.
Following his gaze, Ye Susu noticed the small camera installed on the low cabinet beside the refrigerator and frowned slightly.
The original host had dedicated most of her time to live-streaming.
She dreamed of becoming famous so that the one-night-stand man might see her online, or perhaps attract the attention of other wealthy men, like the male lead and CEO of this streaming company, Li Yinchen.
She streamed for over 15–16 hours daily, leaving no time to accompany the child. To maintain her image as a single female streamer, she strictly forbade him from appearing in frame during her broadcasts.
Apart from meals and sleep, the little boy had to hide and play by himself in the hallway or living area.
Thinking of this, a sudden pang of heartache tightened in Ye Susu’s chest.
She fell silent, and the small kitchen grew quiet.
Outside, the wind rustled the nearly withered golden ginkgo leaves on the windowsill.
Soon, the pot of noodles on the gas stove began bubbling vigorously.
Hearing the sound, the child hurriedly stood on tiptoe to fetch bowls from the cupboard.
Ye Susu sighed inwardly and quickly reached out to help.
Having just taken over this body, she had mostly adjusted after a short while.
Apart from her delicate, slender hands, which were even clumsier at housework than the child’s, everything else seemed fairly normal.
“I’ll serve the noodles.”
She knew how; she’d watched her human do it before.
However, when she lifted the lid and saw the coiled noodles inside, her heart sank again.
“Why are they instant noodles?”
She knew about instant noodles.
No nutrition, full of preservatives—equivalent to low-grade cat food, not good for a cub’s health.
Ye Susu shook her head disapprovingly.
Did the original host truly neglect everything?
She set the bowl aside and opened the refrigerator instead. “Let me make you something tasty.”
She’d seen her human prepare delicious cat meals before and didn’t think it looked too complicated.
Yet, when the refrigerator door swung open, it was nearly empty—aside from a few refrigerated face masks and skincare products, plus two pairs of stockings, there were only two leftover eggs.
No real food at all!
Utterly shocking for a cat!
“We’ll eat out.”
Ye Susu pressed a hand to her forehead, closing the refrigerator door in despair.
The little boy, his chubby, pale hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt, seemed hesitant. But then he turned and pattered out to the hallway, returning with a small backpack he took from the cramped shoe cabinet.
He rummaged inside and pulled out a small, worn-out wallet Ye Susu had discarded. Digging into it, he produced a ten-yuan note.
“Mommy… you go eat.”
He stretched out his little hand, offering the money to her.
That amount wasn’t enough for even one meal.
The child clearly didn’t understand how scary prices were.
Yet he obviously knew it wouldn’t cover both of them, so he gave it all to Ye Susu.
Ye Susu blinked.
It suddenly came back to her—this was the pocket money the original host gave the child, one yuan per day, for him to keep.
“No need. Mo…Mommy has money. I’ll take you—”
Ye Susu’s cheeks flushed slightly. Going from a single cat to a mom overnight, she had to swallow hard to say the title smoothly.
But before she could finish, she clutched her jaw.
The original host’s live-streaming income was paid around the tenth of each month, averaging only about two thousand yuan.
Apart from utilities and rent, she also spent on unboxing hauls for her streams. What little remained was often blown on trendy new items she didn’t actually need. Even selling them second-hand at a loss, she’d lose 10–20%.
As a result, she currently owed her landlord—her cousin Ye Wan—three months’ rent, and her savings were in the negative.
Today was the 9th. With no paycheck yet, she truly had no money!
“Mommy, I’m not hungry. Yesterday’s snacks from kindergarten—the biscuits and buns—I… haven’t finished them yet.”
Ye Xun’s voice was soft. As he spoke, he actually pulled out two small snacks from the inner pocket of his dark blue backpack, where he kept them carefully tucked away.
Wu wu wu…
Poor little celestial cub…
Ye Susu’s heart felt almost swollen with sour sorrow.
Silly cub, a grown cat wouldn’t abandon you to eat alone. And if there’s no cash, isn’t there still Huabei? widely used digital consumer credit service
But just as she was about to speak, the doorbell rang abruptly from outside. She had to turn and answer it.
Hearing the sound, the little boy grew frightened, clutching his backpack and trying to dash into the bedroom.
He knew his existence couldn’t be known by many people.
But as he ran, holding the bag, its unzipped contents spilled out. By the time he gathered the fallen toys, he was a step too slow to escape the kitchen.
The door opened, and a sharp, impatient female voice rang out.
“Susu, what’s going on? I called you several times—why didn’t you pick up?”
In the doorway stood a woman with brown curls, dressed in a pale purple suit dress. Her makeup was impeccable, her phoenix eyes upturned and imposing, yet carrying a hint of harshness.
It was none other than the body’s cousin and agent, the black-hearted Ye Wan.
Ye Susu rubbed her nose. Naturally, she hadn’t wanted to answer.
“My phone was left in the room.”
Ye Wan stepped inside in her black heels, her phoenix eyes sweeping over Ye Susu from head to toe before quickly knitting her brows.
“Didn’t I tell you to get ready? Why are you still in pajamas?! Go change into that lace camisole dress!”
Ye Susu frowned.
A lace camisole… that kind of outfit practically announced to every man that she was there to be ‘sold.’
No wonder the original host had attended those parties, gotten drunk by men she barely knew, and been used without any responsibility taken afterward.
“Susu, what are you standing there for? Up too late again? If this chance went to anyone else, they’d be scrambling to get in! Why aren’t you anxious at all?”
Ye Susu snorted.
Only someone with water for brains would want to ‘get in’ like that.
“Cousin, I haven’t eaten yet.”
Ye Wan tapped her heel. “Eat on the way! Stop dawdling! Those are CEOs—they won’t wait for us!”
Ye Susu gave a lazy “Oh.”
The more agitated Ye Wan became, the more it suggested something was off and the less Ye Susu felt inclined to hurry.
“Fine, we’ll eat on the way,” Ye Susu grinned, patted her stomach, then beckoned to the frightened little boy who hadn’t managed to hide in the bedroom in time. “Go get changed.”
Following her gaze, Ye Wan’s expression instantly darkened.
“Why is the kid wandering in front of the camera again? What if you forget to end your stream and viewers see him? How would you explain that?”
“This child can’t see the light of day!”
Her voice was sharp, and it immediately startled little Ye Xun.
His small body trembled, and he instinctively tried to shrink behind the chair in the hallway, clutching his backpack.
“If fans find out you’re an unmarried mother with such a big child, will they keep sending you gifts? We don’t even know who the father is! I told you to send him to the countryside to live with Auntie, but you insisted on keeping him here. You’re way too reckless!”
Ye Wan was clearly displeased.
“The cost of living here is high. You can barely support yourself, and yet you still have to raise him. What exactly were you thinking?”
As she spoke, the little boy’s shoulders slumped completely.
Finally, Ye Susu understood why this child was so timid yet obedient, so mature for his age—terrified of the original host, yet offering her unwavering devotion.
He was just like her back then… afraid of being abandoned.
Ye Susu sighed and turned to face the impeccably dressed Ye Wan.
“Cousin, please stop blabbering.”
“All this nagging—no wonder your hair is splitting.”
Ye Wan’s haughty expression froze. “What… did you just say?!”
Ignoring her, Ye Susu walked into the small kitchen and crouched before the shrinking child. She reached out and gently stroked his little head, which now hung low with dejection, helplessness, and fear.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Mommy won’t send you away.”
Back in the day, she too had longed for someone to tell her they’d never abandon her.
[Daily Mission 2: Engage in a loving interaction with the cub completed.]
[Reward: Parenting Points +1.]
Ye Susu’s hand paused.
For a second, she looked down and met the child’s panicked, disbelieving yet desperately hopeful eyes—the vulnerable gaze of a small creature clinging to those words.
She smiled softly and firmly ruffled his soft, messy hair again.
“Boss, Lin Group’s share price offer has arrived. The investment team is already following up.”
In a top-floor office, a man sat in a high-backed leather executive chair, his long legs crossed.
His expression was indifferent, his eyes dark, cold, and aloof.
“Have them complete it within three days.”
“Understood, Boss. Also, it’s confirmed that Ms. Ye will attend the banquet at the Wilshire Hotel at noon. Her personal investigation report has been delivered.”
Leaning back in his chair, the man’s black, slightly tousled hair caught fragmented rays of sunlight, casting uneven shadows across his high-bridged nose.
He took the report detailing the woman’s litany of misconduct, scanning it rapidly.
His thin lips pressed together briefly, then curved into an icy, mocking smile.
Inside the panoramic, floor-to-ceiling window office, even the blazing sunlight streaming in seemed to freeze instantly.
He stood up, his long fingers undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his tie.
“Prepare the car.”
“Yes, sir.”
**