The dating reality show host just wanted to give up, but the rich girl fell for him.

In early autumn in Jiangnan, there is already a refreshing coolness in the mornings and evenings.

The morning mist, like a thin white veil, enveloped the crisscrossing alleys of Qingshui Town.

On the bluestone slabs of the old street, a few slightly yellowed sycamore leaves are scattered, making a soft, crisp sound when stepped on.

Lin Mo got up very early.

Or perhaps, due to the change in environment and the fact that he was having trouble sleeping in the new bed, he didn't sleep very well last night.

He wore a loose, light gray long-sleeved T-shirt and slippers, and tiptoed into the noodle shop.

There's a lingering, aged broth aroma here.

That's the patina left by years of simmering pork bones in the noodle shop, the foundation upon which this family survives.

Lin Mo did not turn on the headlights.

Using the faint morning light filtering in from the streetlamp outside, he opened the bottom drawer of the cash register.

He reached deep inside and pulled out a rusty "White Rabbit Milk Candy" tin box.

This is where the Lin family keeps their valuables, and it has never changed since Lin Mo can remember.

When the tin box was opened, there wasn't a single penny of cash inside.

There were only a few passbooks with worn-out edges and a yellowed hard copy account book.

Lin Mo picked up the ledger and casually flipped to a page.

The paper was already a bit brittle, and it was covered with Lin Ankang's not-so-good-looking, even crooked, handwriting.

Every stroke felt like it was carved into my heart with a dull knife.

"On September 3rd, a deposit of 50,000 yuan was paid for the transfer of the shop (the buyer thought it was too expensive and the deal fell through, so the deposit was refunded)."

"On September 5th, I asked Lao Li to lend me two thousand (but I couldn't get it; he was also in a difficult situation)."

"On September 6th, I sold my old house. The real estate agent relentlessly pushed the price down to 120,000 (I had no choice but to sell it to tide me over)."

"On September 8th, I pawned Cuiping's gold earrings for 1,800 yuan."

Lin Mo's fingers gently traced the words, his fingertips feeling slightly cool.

As you turn the page, the handwriting becomes increasingly illegible and forceful.

The paper was even torn in several places by the tip of the ballpoint pen.

Those are marks left by the uncontrollable trembling of the wrist when a person faces a desperate situation with no way out.

Lin Mo put down the ledger and his gaze fell on a crumpled A4 sheet of paper pressed at the bottom of the tin box.

He pulled it out and took a look, his breath suddenly stopping for half a second.

That was a "voluntary drug trial agreement".

Below the agreement was a form for "high-risk night shifts" at the town's chemical plant.

Two glaringly bright red handprints were pressed onto the two thin sheets of paper.

The fingerprints were rough, clearly the result of a lifetime of manual labor.

For this impoverished family who had spent their entire lives selling plain noodles, the five million yuan penalty for breach of contract was like the sky falling down.

This is for a debt of an astronomical amount that is impossible to repay.

These two elderly people, both over fifty and having toiled for half their lives, are truly determined to exhaust themselves.

Lin Mo stood in the dimly lit shop, silent for a long time.

He didn't shed tears, nor did he sigh deeply.

He simply folded the two pieces of paper with red handprints on them quietly, and then tore them into pieces little by little.

He casually tossed the scraps of paper into the nearby trash can.

"Squeak—"

The sound of an old wooden door being pulled open came from the back kitchen.

Lin Ankang, wearing a pilling dark blue autumn coat and clutching a chipped stainless steel thermos, walked out while coughing.

The early autumn morning was a bit chilly, and the old man hunched his shoulders.

His eye bags were heavy and his eye sockets were sunken. It was clear that although he knew last night that the family's debts had been settled, his nerves, which had been on edge for years, had not yet fully recovered.

Lin Ankang looked up and met the tall figure standing in front of the cashier.

"Why are you up so early?"

The old man subconsciously straightened his face and slammed the thermos down heavily on the greasy wooden table next to him.

"There's leftover congee in the pot from yesterday. Go heat it up in the kitchen yourself."

After saying that, he tightened his autumn coat and turned to walk towards the gate.

"Where to?"

Lin Mo turned around, his tone calm but carrying an undeniable air of authority.

Lin Ankang paused, but did not turn around.

"Going to the chemical plant." The old man's voice was a little muffled. "I asked someone to sign me up before, and they scheduled an early shift today... so I'll just go occasionally."

"As I said, the family's debts have been paid off."

Lin Mo walked out from behind the cashier, took a few steps to the door, and stood in front of the glass door.

"That money is enough for our family to live comfortably for the rest of our lives."

Lin Ankang frowned, habitually using his fatherly authority to mask his inner unease.

"That's your money! I'm not dead yet, I can still move my arms and legs, it's not your place to support me, you little bastard!"

"I can handle the shifts at the chemical plant. I can earn an extra six thousand yuan a month. I'll work there for a few years and save it up for you to buy a house and get married in a big city someday!"

The old man was as stubborn as a rock in a latrine, and he stubbornly tried to push the door open.

Lin Mo did not dodge.

He reached out and firmly pressed down on his father's wrist, which was calloused and had large joints from years of chopping vegetables.

The warmth emanating from his hand made Lin Ankang stiffen.

"Dad." Lin Mo's voice was not loud, and it was very calm, but it carried an undeniable weight.

"You carried me on your back before, you worked hard your whole lives."

He lowered his head, staring at Lin Ankang's slightly cloudy, bloodshot eyes, and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Now that I'm all grown up, even if the sky falls, it's my turn to support you all."

"Whether it's a thousand yuan for a meal or a five million yuan debt, as long as I, Lin Mo, am still breathing..."

"It's not your turn to risk your lives."

Lin Ankang froze on the spot.

He looked up at his son, who had somehow grown taller than him by more than half a head.

Those eyes, which were usually gentle and even somewhat casual, now revealed a powerful sense of absolute control.

That's a kind of confidence that comes from truly experiencing the ups and downs of life.

The old man's lips trembled violently.

All the tough words he had prepared suddenly got stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.

He tried to pull his hand away, but found that his son's hand was as steady as an iron clamp, yet not so steady as to hurt him.

The father and son remained locked in this stalemate for a full half minute in the early autumn morning light.

Finally, Lin Ankang's straight back slumped slightly.

He turned his head away, blinked hard at his bloodshot eyes, and tucked the thermos into his chest to hide his stinging nose.

"Fine, I won't go! Do you think I enjoy the stench from that chemical plant?"

"I'm actually quite relaxed!"

He muttered something as he turned and walked into the inner room.

But his shoulders, which had been tense, visibly relaxed at that moment, and even his steps became lighter.

After cornering his father and sending him back into the house, Lin Mo didn't rest.

Since you've decided to take on the responsibility of this family, just talking nice words won't do you any good.

In recent years, the old house has been almost completely neglected due to debt repayment efforts, and it exudes an atmosphere of decay and compromise.

After resting for a while, Lin Mo rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved T-shirt and walked into the storage room in the backyard.

He rummaged through a pile of dusty junk for a moment and pulled out a rusty tin toolbox.

Our first stop was the wooden door in the backyard that was half rotten.

The door was already deformed, and it made a screeching noise every time it was opened or closed. It was about to collapse when the autumn wind blew.

Lin Mo carried the toolbox over and easily removed the entire door panel.

He took an old wood plane out of the box, and his eyes instantly became unusually focused.

He used to be a laid-back guy on variety shows, not even bothering to look at the camera.

Holding woodworking tools at this moment, he looks like a top craftsman immersed in his craft.

"Snap—Snap—"

The plane cutter pushed across the old wood, curling up layers of wood shavings as thin as cicada wings.

The smell of stale wood chips mingled with the crisp autumn air, permeating the courtyard.

Lin Mo's movements were devoid of any unnecessary frills, yet they possessed an indescribable beauty.

Precise, steady, and with impeccable control of force.

In less than half an hour, the deformed door hinge was polished smooth again.

He even went so far as to chisel out a beautiful dovetail joint and replace it with a newly oiled hinge.

When putting it back, Lin Mo gave it a gentle push.

The heavy door closed perfectly without making a sound.

Next are the leaky roof tiles.

Lin Mo nimbly climbed onto the roof using the old bamboo ladder.

The dark gray tiles were covered with dried moss, and some parts were cracked and sunken.

The autumn wind blew by, lifting the corners of his wide coat, making it feel a little chilly.

But his steps were as steady as Mount Tai, as if he were walking on flat ground on the sloping roof.

Clean up the broken tiles, lay down waterproof felt, and replace them with new tiles that fit perfectly.

Every movement was fluid and graceful, as if he had been practicing this craft for decades.

Wang Cuiping came out of the kitchen carrying freshly heated white porridge and pickled vegetables, just in time to see her son busy on the roof.

She was startled, quickly put down the bowl, and ran into the yard to shout in a low voice.

"Mo'er! Come down quickly! That ladder isn't sturdy, it's too high and dangerous!"

"It's okay, it'll be done soon."

Lin Mo nodded in response, then quickly secured the last tile and nimbly flipped off.

The whole morning.

The Lin family's dilapidated old house seemed to have been revitalized.

The wobbly eight-immortal table was reinforced and made as stable as a rock, with its legs leveled.

The clogged drainpipes were cleared, and water was flowing freely.

The backyard, which was covered in dust and dead leaves, was washed clean, revealing the original smooth bluestone slabs.

Lin Mo didn't use any grand words.

He simply worked hard to piece together his home, which was on the verge of falling apart in the storm.

Lin Ankang stood under the eaves, looking at the newly renovated courtyard.

The old man's hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly.

He didn't say anything, but silently turned around and went back to the kitchen.

Less than ten minutes later, the sound of chopping meat could be heard from the kitchen.

For lunch, we added two more main dishes: braised pork hock and my son's favorite stir-fried prawns.

This is the most profound form of recognition from a Chinese father, though he is not good with words.

It was evening.

The setting sun, like blood, dyed half the sky above Qingshui Town a warm orange-red.

Lin Mo washed his face by the sink in the backyard.

The cool well water splashed on my face, washing away most of the day's dust and sweat.

He picked up the towel draped around his neck, dried himself off, and stood quietly in the neatly tidied courtyard.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of braised pork hock, mixed with a faint, slightly bitter smell of wood chips.

The neighbor's television was broadcasting the evening news in perfect Chinese.

This is the pure and beautiful everyday life.

But Lin Mo's mind was clearer than ever before.

At this moment, his life plan was displayed so clearly for the first time.

Back in my hometown, the debts were settled, the house was repaired, and my parents were finally relieved.

But all of this is just the foundation.

He couldn't stay in this small town forever, nor could he let his parents continue to toil away in this run-down noodle shop for the rest of their lives.

Before leaving, this rear area must be arranged to be as solid as a rock.

Only after the family is completely settled and secure.

Only then could he go to the capital without any worries.

Go and face that cutthroat, scheming arena of power and fame.

He had to face the Jiang family's wealthy father-in-law, who was said to have a bad temper and was prone to swinging golf clubs at the drop of a hat.

More importantly, he wanted to see that rich young lady from Beijing who only dared to vent her anger on WeChat but was too proud to say she missed him.

Lin Mo couldn't help but let a very faint smile appear at the corners of his mouth.

The early autumn evenings were a bit chilly.

I wonder if that pampered girl who always kicks off the covers while sleeping will get cold on set.

Since God gave him a second chance at life, He also forced this clingy troublemaker upon him.

He has to handle this situation steadily and reliably.

Moreover, the handshake must be executed flawlessly, so flawlessly that no one can find fault with it.

The basic framework of the house has been straightened.

Logically speaking, Lin Mo, who had been busy all day, should have sat down to rest and wait for the pork hock.

But he did not stop.

After washing his hands, Lin Mo turned and walked into the east wing, where old tables and chairs used to be piled up.

He had completely emptied the room that morning, and the floor was swept spotless.

He pulled a steel tape measure from his pocket and began to precisely measure dimensions in the empty room.

The direction the windows face, the angle at which the morning sunlight shines in, and even the unevenness of the old wooden floorboards.

He had a small notebook in his hand and checked it three times over.

Wang Cuiping walked in carrying a plate of washed autumn dates. She was stunned when she saw her son's serious and prepared demeanor.

"Mo'er, this house used to be used to store miscellaneous items."

"Just fix it casually so it doesn't leak, why take such detailed measurements?"

Lin Mo lowered his head and made marks on the wall with a pencil, his tone as calm as if he were talking about what to eat for dinner.

"We need to install underfloor heating throughout the house and lay a layer of moisture-resistant imported solid wood flooring."

"The curtains need to be replaced with 100% blackout curtains, and the sound insulation material needs to be replaced as well."

"Otherwise, some people will have a very bad temper when they wake up in the morning and see the light."

He took the measuring tape to the corner and continued drawing lines with his pen.

"And this bathroom needs to be torn down, expanded, and rebuilt."

"I need to install a large bathtub with a constant temperature system, and the depth should not be less than 60 centimeters."

Wang Cuiping felt increasingly uneasy as she listened, forgetting to put down the jujubes she was holding, her eyes slowly widening.

This doesn't look like a storage room!

The level of sophistication and refinement in this decoration surpasses even the only four-star hotel in town!

Moreover, it needs to be moisture-proof, avoid light, and be soaked in a constant-temperature bathtub...

This doesn't sound like the habits of a grown man at all.

"son……"

Wang Cuiping tentatively took two steps closer, looking Lin Mo up and down with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty in her eyes.

"Tell me the truth, why are you making this room look so precious..."

"Who exactly are you planning to bring to stay?"