Chapter 754

After a few years in Sichuan, not only did Mother Jiang visibly age, even Xu Xuedie and Jiang Song had clearly worn down.

Jiang Song had reached middle age, yet was still making the same mistakes from his youth. He saw a big construction project, and instead of caution, he frantically borrowed money to take it on. The project ended up collapsing. According to the contract, he had to front half the capital—and that half was gone. Not only that, he’d invested all his own money, borrowed a ton more, and now owed a mountain of debt. Even villagers who had dreamed of getting rich by investing with him had lent him money.

Everyone said the project boss had run away. But Jiang Song refused to believe it. He even went to the guy’s house, hoping to confront him—only to find no trace. Not even a shadow.

After running around for half his life, what had he gotten in return? Just debt.

But would Jiang Song panic?

He tried everything to find that boss. Once it was confirmed the man had escaped overseas and was completely unreachable, Jiang Song calmly reassured his subordinates… and called Jiang Ning.

Jiang Ning’s political career over the years had been nothing short of meteoric. Starting out as an alternate secretary in the Communist Youth League, her first posted position was as Deputy Secretary of the Municipal Committee and acting Mayor. That kind of launchpad was only slightly less impressive than her legendary senior schoolmate, who had begun as Vice Provincial Secretary and Acting Governor. And the only reason for that was Jiang Ning was still too young.

Now, just past forty, she was already a provincial-level official.

With a sister like that, Jiang Song had always felt unbothered deep down—never worried. Now, having caused such a mess and owing so much money, the first person he thought of was Jiang Ning.

If Jiang Ning casually allocated a project or two under her jurisdiction, that’d be enough for him to soar overnight.

—-

[A Deep Dive Into the Handsome Uncles of the God-tier Era #Video#]

The video opens with GIF-style clips of those legendary handsome men from the 1990s and early 2000s—Jiang Bai, Yan Yichang, Zu Zu—all iconic heartthrobs who defined an era, sending the post-2000s viewers into a frenzy.

[So handsome! Now I finally understand what it means in novels when they say a face is like it’s been carved by a blade. Yan Yichang is literally Knife-Cut Noodle himself!]

[Jiang Bai lit up my childhood! Mingyue, Xu Xian—iconic! And that loyal dog of a Commander role?]

[He was so popular back then. Why did he vanish all of a sudden?]

[No idea. He disappeared right when his career was blowing up. Can’t find a single update about him. Do y’all even know how good his resources were back then?]

[Y’all saying he had connections? LOL. Dude played more cannon fodder roles than most. That blink-and-you-miss-it beauty!]

[You think it was just one second? Look again. That tall, long-legged guard in the corner?] 

[And that soldier in the war drama—he looks at the camera for a sec and BOOM, dead from a bomb. Director you monster!]

[That era really was a battlefield of gods.]

[No, no, no—he did have some lines. That villain?]

[So he didn’t have connections?]

[No such thing as overnight success.]

[But his resources were really good. His debut was the film adaptation of Ning Meng’s Legend of the White Snake, directed by Yu Weihong. That casting? Genius.]

[You guys don’t know? Mingyue and Qingfeng were besties IRL. I saw them cameo together in tons of shows.]

[Short Video Clip]

The clip was grainy and aged, but it was clearly from the promotional event for Legend of the White Snake. A reporter asked about Jiang Bai playing the role of Mingyue. 

Director Yu jokes, “Actually, I was originally inviting his sister to audition. She didn’t show, but he walked in instead. At that time, we hadn’t even created the ‘Mingyue’ role. I looked at him and went—whoa! What a good-looking kid!]

[Bless Director Yu’s good taste for discovering Jiang Bai.]

[Who’s his sister? Does anyone know?]

[I remember people digging this up on old forums.]

[Sit down, Delulu.]

[Am I the only one dying to know who Jiang Bai’s sister is?]

[Same here.]

[Okay, fine. I’ll give you a hint: [JN]. If you know, you know.]

[Top dog of H Province?]

[Cough (a plant).]

[I’m lost.]

[They literally said it’s ‘unspeakable’. If we spell it out, this comment gets wiped. Just think—what’s Jiang Bai’s last name?]

[Lost = dumb 😒]

[I’m crying.]

[Wait. She’s post-80s too?]

[With a face like that, you’re telling me there weren’t any shady deals behind the scenes?]

[STFU. You saw one photo and now you’re spouting nonsense? Did you even read her résumé?

[Images] [Images] [Images]

[Damn.]

[She started out as acting mayor of our Z City. During her term, our local economy exploded. Even today, Z City’s housing prices are the most stable!]

The images were of the villa that Jiang Ning had bought back in the 1990s in Shanghai. When she purchased it, the east of Shanghai was still a barren area, but now, it’s grown into the financial heart of the city, one of the most expensive and prosperous districts, with property prices soaring to levels unimaginable in the 90s.

But to say it’s worth over 100 million? That would be an exaggeration. After all, compared to those massive estate-style villas with sprawling land, hers was more modest—just front and back courtyards. Still, in terms of location and how much this property had appreciated, in outsiders’ eyes, it was definitely a luxury home. Maybe not nine digits, but definitely tens of millions.

More importantly, when she bought the villa, there was a “buy property, get a household registration” policy. Everyone who came to buy villas there were wealthy folks from outside Shanghai looking to settle down. As a result, the entire neighborhood was filled with the rich from all corners of the country.

A civil servant like Jiang Ning living in such a luxury villa area known for housing the ultra-wealthy? It did seem rather eye-catching.

In fact, Jiang Ning rarely stayed there each year—most of the time, she lived in an apartment in whichever city she was stationed in.

Yet even with just a few visits a year to this villa, someone managed to snap a photo. Though blurry and pixelated with the face censored, the person was unmistakably Jiang Ning.

The post didn’t mention her by name, only referred to her as a certain unspeakable individual. But it included an estimated salary range, along with the current online appraisal of the villa. Since villas in this area were rare and highly sought after, the price was astronomical. That string of zeros, compared with a civil servant’s salary, really was jarring.

And the poster didn’t stop there.”

Snap!

Another picture dropped.

Amid a picturesque natural landscape, a four-story luxury villa covered in pink climbing roses appeared before everyone. The villa was stunning.

The photographer clearly had some skill—capturing long shots framed by layers of swaying lotus blossoms, then switching angles across a gently flowing stream. Closer shots zoomed in on the villa’s architectural details. Several similarly styled villas nearby made it appear as part of a luxury complex.

This was Jiang Ning’s self-built villa in her hometown. Back then, she’d hired a designer who had returned from studying abroad. Even after more than a decade, the place hadn’t aged at all—if anything, it looked even more refined and beautiful with time.

The post didn’t include an estimate for this one, but continued, “And this is just the tip of the iceberg. From what I know, this ‘unspeakable’ person owns several luxury homes in S City, and also in the capital, Z City, H Province…”

But soon enough, the post was taken down.

Chen Yuchong was already used to it.

Years ago, many of the posts he’d made online—about “Ning Meng” being a team—had been deleted cleanly as Jiang Ning climbed higher in rank. Each post would get his account nuked. Eventually, even his usual IPs got banned. He was even warned by the police.

But this time, someone had approached him to buy the info—paid him to post it.

Though the post was deleted quickly, it was immediately re-uploaded under different accounts. Some even used a “bystander” tone, “Wow, this ‘unspeakable’ figure is really something.”

They worked hard to amplify the post’s reach. Before long, uninformed netizens were reading this manufactured outrage and immediately assumed the woman in question must have clawed her way up through unorthodox means. Some began speculating who was really behind her rise, tossing around initials and coded references to fuel rumors.

Yet interestingly, no one dared to use foul language.