Before I died, someone asked me: "Is the meal ready?"
The first thing I did after my rebirth: I tore up the 800 yuan note from my biological father that sold me.
In 1992, I was fourteen years old. My father ran away, my uncle robbed someone, and Aunt Hong blocked the door with a fake IOU. Everyone felt that Zhao Xiulan's daughter had no chance of survival.
The result?
Aunt Hong went in, Li Jianguo ran away, and Daddy was digging through the garbage in the south of the city.
I made my first pot of gold by picking up scraps at scrapyards. From now on, I, Chen Jia, have the final say on Haiqi's antique street.
Later, the man who was too lazy to walk even seven steps in his previous life knelt in front of me and begged me not to kill them all.
I smiled: "It's too late."
