Chapter 4: I’m Farming in a Rich Family

"White moonlight~ somewhere in my heart~ so bright~ yet so cold~"

The night had deepened, and Evan wobbled into the house, pushing his little bicycle.

"What's this?" Uncle John took the heavy woven bag from Evan's hand, opened it, and saw tomato seedlings.

"Yeah." Evan carried the bag into his room. "Don't call me for dinner tonight!"

Uncle John didn't know where this kid got the strength from, but the twenty or thirty-pound bag seemed weightless in his hands. He skipped into his room.

Since the first day he came here, Evan had discovered that the room had a huge balcony. A super large one, with little to no facilities. There were just a few sofas and a coffee table. Evan always thought it looked nice but wasn't useful. If it rained, the sofas would get wet. So, the night before, he moved the sofas out with the driver and brought in a few flowerpots – to plant vegetables.

He still had some home skills after all.

Uncle John originally thought that Evan had hit a wall today. He figured by the next morning, Evan wouldn't bother anymore, especially since the kid had never done any heavy work. He probably would be exhausted by now from all the effort.

But Evan surprised him by getting up at 3 a.m. the next day, spending some time in the kitchen, and then pushing his shabby little tricycle out.

Poor Uncle John, in his fifties, received a message from the security guard at the door. He hurriedly dressed and ran out, his old arms and legs moving as fast as they could, leaving afterimages behind.

Evan had learned from his mistake today. He didn't sell breakfast in the neighborhood but instead pushed his tricycle for half an hour to a busy commercial street. It was rush hour, and the foot traffic was large. Evan found a place to stop, and before long, customers arrived.

Uncle John hid behind a pillar, watching Evan's situation with some relief. Evan had added new items to the menu today. He started selling tea eggs.

Evan didn't know where he got a little blackboard from, with clearly marked prices. Fried dough sticks were three yuan for two, soy milk two yuan per cup, dumplings one yuan each, and tea eggs two yuan each.

The tea eggs he made today smelled amazing. Even Aunt Mary said they were great. Evan was confident he would make them a bestseller.

When Hane found his cheap brother, Evan was already surrounded by a crowd. He was so busy that his hands were moving so fast, they seemed to leave afterimages.

The chopsticks needed for frying dough sticks had to be specially made, at least as long as an adult man's forearm. Evan, being a genius, had tied two regular chopsticks together to fry them.

Hane vaguely remembered that the chopsticks in their home kitchen had been custom-made by Uncle John, costing around four digits for a pair. Now, those chopsticks were tied together to fry dough sticks. Even the chopsticks must feel wronged.

"Tea eggs are sold out! If you want some, come early tomorrow!" Evan quickly asked, "What do you want to eat?"

"Evan."

Hane took a deep breath. "Does the family lack money for you to spend? You're out here frying dough sticks!"

His eight-figure car was parked on the roadside. Dressed in a crisp Prada suit, spotless Italian leather shoes, and a shiny luxury watch, it was completely out of place next to this greasy breakfast stall.

Hane stood among a crowd of elderly people, standing out like a crane among chickens, his face turning green.

Evan stared at him for a while, took out a paper bag, and handed him two pieces of fried dough sticks. "I'm busy here, just go up and eat."

"Do I need these two pieces of fried dough sticks from you?"

"Don't be mad. We're out on the street. It's not good to cause a scene." Evan was really busy, so after lightly chiding his older brother, who was acting like a spoiled prince, he got back to work, leaving Hane standing on the side of the street with a paper bag in hand, looking embarrassed.

His leather shoes had already been stepped on by several people.

"Boss, should we head back to the company now?"

"Yeah, why not." Hane gritted his teeth and handed the fried dough sticks to the driver. "I'm done trying to manage him."

"You're not taking these?"

"Who wants this dirty stuff made by a man!"

Driver: "…"

If you don't want them, fine.

But they do smell good.

Hane originally thought his brother would just get up early and fry dough sticks at the park gate, but he never expected that he would also be collecting cardboard boxes for his home!

When he saw the stack of cardboard boxes and cans in the garage, he almost lost it.

"Evan!"

"Eh?"

Evan poked his head out of the upstairs, "What's up, big brother?"

"Explain to me, where did all that trash in the garage come from? What nonsense are you up to?"

"Environmental protection project and waste recycling efficiency, increasing the recycling rate of earth's recyclable resources. It's a noble cause."

Hane: "…"

"If you're so noble, why didn't you give away those fried dough sticks for free this morning?"

"Well, that's business—cash for goods, a fair exchange, no credit."

Where did this kid come up with all these reasons?!

Hane couldn't take it anymore: "Uncle John, throw away all the trash he's been hoarding!"

"It's not trash. If it can be sold, it's not trash!"

Evan grabbed his hand, sounding desperate. "Bro, I've been waking up early to fight for these with the old men and women! These are my lifeblood! Do you know how hard I fought for them? The old man even tried to hit me with his cane, so thick it left afterimages! I snatched these from their hands at great risk!"

Hane took a step back, his eyes wide open. He practically wanted to write "I don't understand you" on his forehead. "All these years, our family has never lacked money for you to spend. Are you in debt and not telling me?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then what is all this nonsense?"

Evan: "Environmental protection."

"Hane! I'm giving you half an hour to move all this so-called environmental protection stuff out of my garage! Otherwise, you can take it to the recycling station with all your 'green' treasures!"

Hane really was like a rotten stone! Evan had no choice but to load his "environmental protection project" onto his tricycle and head to the nearest recycling station to sell it.

As soon as he stepped out, the old man by the trash can raised his cane. Evan quickly extended his hand, "Stop, I'm not here to compete with you."

"Not at all! A young man with hands and feet like you competing with an old, poor man like me!"

"Grandpa, your LV logo is showing on your shoes."

This neighborhood didn't allow outsiders. The old man had been walking around in the neighborhood every day, wearing a different set of flashy brand-name clothes. Clearly, he wasn't one of the poor people he made himself out to be.

The old man, caught in the act, didn't look embarrassed at all. He proudly said, "Next month, this area will start recycling. It will be a community-wide program to collect things that can be sold."

"I'm really going to explode."

Evan wanted to cry. Why was making money so hard in this world?

The nearest recycling station was five kilometers away. By the time Evan returned home, it was already getting dark. He had walked and stopped along the way, and by the time he got home, the sky had already darkened.

Hane was sitting on the couch watching the news. When Evan came in, he asked, "How much is your environmental protection project worth?"

Evan answered, "Three hundred and forty-two dollars and seventy cents."

Such an expensive dream.

"Go take a shower before dinner."

Late at night, the huge house was quiet, with only the two brothers left. Hane, usually busy flying all over the world, had finally slowed down. Now, he didn't know what to do with himself. He sat on the sofa, pretending to read "Economic Law."

Evan walked past with a plate of grapes and sat down on the cushion beneath the sofa to watch TV, thoughtfully lowering the volume.

He had indeed become much more sensible than before.

"Evan."

Hane called out to him while pretending not to care, lowering his head to read a book, with a gold-rimmed pair of glasses perched seriously on his nose. "I've noticed you've changed recently."

Evan, without changing his expression, replied, "Maybe it's because I've grown up."

"You're not even embarrassed to say that."

"Hehe."

Hane didn't intend to argue with Evan about past matters, and soon he went out. Evan stayed on the sofa, eating grapes, occasionally checking to see if his novels had been updated.

⸻

[In the novel's world]

Yeon Sinclair had no interest in getting involved with Evan. In his eyes, Evan was easy to understand—just a neurotic person who wouldn't stop pestering him. After pestering him for so many years, he had finally quieted down. Who knew what nonsense he was up to now?

Evan stood straight beside the car, speaking in a rhythmic, deliberate tone, saying loudly, "Dear Me. Yeon…"

Yeon, helpless, rubbed his forehead. What was this, a school speech? What kind of cliched literary nonsense was this in real life? My brother is still in the car—does he really have to embarrass himself like this?

As soon as the words were spoken, Theo paused slightly, putting down his phone. He quietly listened, and as he continued listening, the smile in his eyes grew more evident. By the time Evan was leaving, hearing him say "I'm really a complex man," Theo couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Tch." The dignified Mr. Yeon, sitting in the back of the car, switched to vibration mode.

Yeon covered his face: What is this? White moonlight? Mari Sue? Where did he copy this tacky love letter from? Is Evan crazy? Did he deliberately write this thing to disgust people after being rejected?

⸻

At that moment, they had no idea how embarrassing this was for them?

Evan sighed and lamented, "They really don't understand what deep, unrequited love is. How touching this love letter is, and why did Theo laugh when he heard it?"

[Didn't you copy that love letter from Goodgles?]

"Don't say anything."

253L: Hahahahahaha, Evan is such an idiot.

267L: Did he go crazy after being rejected?

269L: I told you he's not a normal person.

270: Complex man, Evan, the second male lead.

271: Deep, unrequited love, Evan, the second male lead.

272: Copy-pasted love letter, Evan, the second male lead.

273: Clichéd literature, Evan, the second male lead.

Evan: "…"

"I thought I was supposed to exit the scene as the deep, unrequited second male lead," Evan muttered indignantly. "Unrequited love, growing hatred from love, eventually letting go for the sake of love, silently protecting them—that kind of character arc isn't complex?"

[But the reality is, your image in the readers' minds is much more complex than the deep, unrequited second male lead.]

"What image?"

The system directly opened a voting page for Evan, which read: "What kind of person do you think Evan is?"

• Cannon fodder: 13%

• Villain: 7%

• Deep, unrequited second male lead: 0.1%

• Idiot: 79.9%

"Ah." Evan sighed. "So I'm an idiot."