The system asked me to use maternal love to influence my seven white-cut black stepsons and stepdaughters. Each of them had a full blackening value, and they were planning on how to send me offline every day.
On the first day, the third lady put arsenic in my tea. I drank it all and sent her to see a psychiatrist.
The next day, the eldest lady was trained by her father to become an artist in the greenhouse. I directly handed her a recruitment order for a Wall Street quantitative fund: "Stop playing Chopin and learn to cut leeks with me."
From the third to the seventh day, the credit cards of the four young masters evaporated collectively. One was sent to the company for rotation, one was sent to the entrance examination, and the remaining two were crammed into Mathematical Olympiad and programming classes.
The system went crazy: "The plot is 99.9% Off! The male protagonist's emotional line is completely broken!"
I smiled and closed the background: "Don't worry, when the hero comes back, I will give him a big gift."
