Rich to Poor

The world is one giant slapdash production, and I somehow drift through it anyway.

My father is a financial tycoon, but I can barely handle addition and subtraction under ten. My mother is a gorgeous award-winning actress, while I look perfectly ordinary. My brother held his first solo art exhibition at four, while at five I was still toddling after him babbling nonsense.

Even our maid, Wang Ma, and our butler, Uncle Chen, turned out to be retired legends hiding in plain sight.

Thankfully, all of them adored me. I slowly made peace with being ordinary.

Then one day, a genius girl who had gone viral online showed up at our door and demanded that I give her back her place as the real daughter of the Su family.

Wonderful. The worry that had been hanging over me for years finally dropped dead.

Luxury cars picking me up at the school gate was a common sight. My roommate started a rumor that I had a sugar daddy, and even secretly took tons of pictures of me with middle-aged men. But not long after, her father was on his knees in front of me:

“Master Qiao, I beg you-please save my whole family.”

What she didn’t know was that I am currently the only Earth Master successor.

Chapter 0

I am the most low-maintenance Canary in the Shanghai Circle’s elite social scene.

On the surface, I have no interest in causing trouble; in reality, I am single-mindedly focused on making money.

Everything the Big Boss gives me, I liquidate.

Stocks, bonds, and physical investments-I let the money breed more money, compounding the interest.

I secretly invested in his rival’s company and even took the opportunity to acquire shares in the Big Boss’s own firm.

On the day the truth finally came out, the Big Boss looked at my thick stack of asset reports and let out a cold laugh.

“Other Canaries want to climb the social ladder and take a seat at the table,” he said. “You, on the other hand, want to usurp the throne.”

I was He Xingxiao’s kept canary. In bed, I slacked off with a terrible attitude.

After a while, I’d start whining that it hurt, that I was tired.

But when it came to shopping, I could speed-walk for miles, spending his money like my life depended on it.

Then one day, I saw a row of floating comments: [The vicious supporting female character’s good days are almost over. The beloved, universally adored heroine is about to meet the male lead.]

[She’ll scheme against the heroine again and again, and the male lead will gradually grow disgusted with her.]

[The male lead hasn’t even dumped her yet, but she’ll run off with his money and a fake rich heir. In the end, that fake rich heir will steal all her savings, harvest her kidney, and she’ll die miserably in a rental apartment.]

[She deserves it! Only a kind, non-materialistic good girl like the heroine deserves a tycoon’s love!]

I did not want to lose this job that paid three hundred thousand a month.

From then on, I stopped slacking.

In bed, I performed like I’d been injected with pure adrenaline, refusing to leave even the tiniest opening for the heroine.

He Xingxiao looked at me with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Are you trying to make me die in bed so you can inherit everything I own?”

Shen Wudu and I spent seven years breaking up and getting back together.

I was in charge of breaking up. He was in charge of getting us back together.

But after the last time I said it was over, he stopped trying to win me back. Instead, he took in a lover who looked almost exactly like me.

To make her famous, he stole my resources.

The Best Actress award I had chased for ten years-he handed it to her with effortless ease.

At the awards ceremony, a reporter asked if I regretted breaking up with him.

I smiled and raised my hand, revealing the diamond ring on my finger.

“I’m getting married.”

The moment the words fell, everyone saw the coldest, proudest Young Master of the Shen Family suddenly turn red-eyed.

Chi Heng pretended to be poor and became my kept boyfriend.

Each month, I scraped together five hundred yuan from my living expenses to give him, and this went on for a year and a half.

As graduation approached, I finally found out:

He wasn’t a poor student on loans, but a young master who spent money like water.

He’d even been using someone else’s name the whole time.

The young master condescended to invite me to go abroad with him.

His friends all said I was lucky-with just a kind little white flower persona, I could climb up the social ladder.

Under his gaze, brimming with confidence that he’d get what he wanted,

I shook my head and said gently, “Better not.”

“I’m here to break up with you.”

After being bullied by the prettiest girl in class for three years.

I did something vile: I used her photos to start an online relationship with a rich second-generation heir.

He was gentle and polite, generous with money. His only flaw was that his desires were a little too intense.

Before long, relying on sweet talk, I got four years’ worth of college tuition out of him.

On the day I decided to break up with him, I asked as if it had only just occurred to me:

“Baby, if I suddenly disappeared, what would you do?”

He gave a soft laugh, his tone dangerous. “Babe, don’t make jokes like that. I don’t like it.”

I didn’t cave to pressure. I deleted him on my end.

Later, by sheer coincidence, the prettiest girl in class and I ended up interning at the same tech company.

On our first day, we happened to run into the big boss from headquarters coming down for an inspection.

I stood at the very back of the crowd, but when I looked up, I saw a face that was unbearably familiar.

Before I could even react,

I saw the man’s gaze land on the prettiest girl in class.

His eyes lit up in an instant.

My boyfriend had depression.

Medication and sessions with specialists cost over ten thousand a month.

To help him get better, I took on art commissions and delivered takeout day and night. Even my friends warned me to be careful before I worked myself to death.

Then one day, I managed to grab an errand order from a wealthy villa district.

The high-end Japanese takeout was worth eighteen thousand. I held it with both hands and handed it to the customer with the utmost respect.

But when I lifted my eyes, I saw my boyfriend-who should have been in therapy-standing in the doorway, staring at me in utter shock.

I was the poor scholarship student at an elite private high school. That day, I suddenly started seeing floating comments:

[The male lead is cutting class and climbing over the wall from the school’s back garden, but he fell into the water! What do we do? The male lead can’t swim!]

[Where’s the female lead? Save him!]

[The female lead is sick today, so she’s not at school. Sigh, what a shame. Whoever saves the male lead will gain a ton of favorability with him.]

I wasn’t the female lead of this story. I was just cannon fodder.

At that moment, I lazily propped my chin in my hand and continued listening to math class.

Please. What good would the male lead’s favorability do me? I wasn’t going to save him.

He was the male lead, anyway. It wasn’t like he’d actually drown.

I wasn’t some kind, innocent little flower. I only cared about two things: money and grades.

The floating comments kept rolling by:

[Whoever saves the male lead will probably get a huge reward from his family, right? I wonder who’ll be that lucky. With how rich his family is, even a little pocket change from them would be enough to live on for a lifetime.]

Money!?

I shot to my feet. Behind me, my chair toppled over with a loud clang.

I transmigrated into the ruined white moonlight, and the crown prince humiliated me for the female lead.

“Take off one piece, and I’ll give you one million.”

I thought it over for a few seconds.

Then I promptly took off my dress.