The Strong Female Lead Versus The Most Miserable Male Lead
Chapter 363 - 361 Before the Auction

Chapter 363: Chapter 361 Before the Auction

Nian Shutong didn’t eat dinner.

Fu Yunhe didn’t dare to disturb her a second time.

The last time he asked if she could finish the sculpture, Nian Shutong, who had been interrupted, seemed very displeased and unhappy.

Her low-pressure mood allowed the people around her to really feel it.

It wasn’t intentional, just that her focused environment had been interrupted, and she needed to re-enter that state, otherwise the sculpture would not be a seamless whole.

At present, everyone dared not speak loudly, and every household was careful not to make too much noise while cooking or chopping vegetables.

Even that night, two-thirds of the people ate instant noodles because it was the most convenient and quiet option.

That night in the small wooden house, it seemed even the snorers were fewer.

Nian Shutong hadn’t rested at all, and once she found her groove again, she kept sculpting.

Fu Yunhe silently had Rubble install a Shadowless lamp above and around Nian Shutong, providing her with the necessary brightness.

But that was all, no further actions dared to be taken.

However, he himself stayed outside the whole time and had Master Fan leave some food just in case she wanted to eat.

Working through the night, Nian Shutong’s hands never stopped moving.

The moon set and the sun rose, no dawn appeared, but the clouds seemed to thicken.

Fu Yunhe looked at the early morning sky, expecting rain soon.

Before he could act, Rubble appeared precisely on time, went to the workshop, found a rain shelter, and began to set it up.

Several robots silently set up the shelter, covering the area above Nian Shutong.

Fu Yunhe silently stood by, and after Rubble finished the task, he gave it a thumbs-up, a gesture once shown to him by Nian Shutong.

Rubble received it, wanted to retort, but saw Fu Yunhe’s wide eyes and a finger pointing at Nian Shutong.

He understood and closed his mouth, returning to his own workshop.

Silence was necessary.

At that moment, the rain gently fell, not too heavy.

A fine drizzle, a soft breeze, the greenery of mountains and rivers.

The misty rain tenderly nourished the ground, feeding the earth.

This was probably the scene that farmers loved to see the most.

In the morning, everyone still came out on time, ready to work.

The rain wasn’t heavy, so people could still go to the fields, but the Mechanical Clan couldn’t enter.

Everyone held the most primitive tools, without any lazy thoughts, doing whatever little they could.

Activity began in every household’s yard.

Washing, greeting each other, and children with backpacks laughing carelessly despite the drizzle.

Every household’s gate was wide open, indicating someone was home and visitors were welcome.

Usually running, the children would lower their voices as they passed by Nian Shutong’s place.

Their first activity in the morning was to practice boxing.

Fu Yunhe limbered up and led nearly two hundred children, both new and old students, in boxing.

But today’s boxing was a bit quieter, lacking the tender shouting sounds of the children.

Among those practicing were not only the skilled children and those new kids who couldn’t keep up but also Ji Sisi, Ha Ha, Elder Hua, and Mr. Fan.

Nian Shutong had said boxing was good for the body, so they all practiced it.

Even Rubble, who didn’t need to strengthen his body, was pulled in by Ji Sisi to practice. If a member of the Mechanical Clan who didn’t need physical fitness was practicing boxing, what excuse did anyone have to be lazy?

And yet, Rubble was the worst at it.

He had the most precise brain, but his limbs were quite uncoordinated, often moving awkwardly.

Strangely, when he worked, he functioned flawlessly, clearly knowing his left from his right.

But when it came to boxing, he just couldn’t manage.

Even at the beginning, Rubble often found himself knocked to the ground by his own punches.

Ha Ha called it the "Suicide Tiger Fist."

Everything at the small wooden house was going on as planned.

Just as Mr. Fan had thought, as long as Nian Shutong was around, even if he did nothing, everyone felt remarkably at ease.

Life continued, and carving continued.

Star Network, which had been vocally expressive yesterday, seemed a bit quieter today.

The comments and language criticizing Little River Live had decreased slightly.

Although not by much, there was still some reduction.

What if it really backfired?

Meanwhile, at the Yu Family’s home, the father and his two sons were all present—they were going to attend an auction that evening. Yu Zeming, who had stayed home to work, had not gone to the office.

Mr. Yu and Yu Zeling were engrossed in reading the new work from Earth Bar, "A Toast."

"To have such a poem in one’s lifetime would indeed be fulfilling."

"Dad, you’re thinking too much; you can’t write it."

Yu Zeling’s blunt words didn’t result in Mr. Yu’s typical bluster but rather a nod of agreement.

"Oh... you’re right, it’s not something that can be written just by spending time."

Mr. Yu was now hopelessly immersed in the poetry, and so were many others.

Father and son continued their studies, skipping both breakfast and lunch, too engrossed even to consider moving despite their hunger.

Yu Zeming, on the other hand, had consumed a variety of foods, each bite followed by a remark: Mr. Xiao He, I miss you! I miss you so much!

Yu Zeming’s tastes had been thoroughly spoiled by Little River Live’s broadcasts; he had grown picky about his food.

And for some reason, even though the food was prepared according to Little River Live’s recipes, the flavors were off by at least thirty percent.

Where exactly was the difference?

If Mr. Yu were there and heard this question, he would have said: It’s in the ingredients.

The ingredients from Little River Live were aimweak but effective for cultivation.

Not only did they taste better, but they also had better effects.

Time passed, and it was now the afternoon.

At one o’clock, Yu Zeming was leisurely playing games. By two, he became a bit distracted in his gaming.

By three, he stopped playing altogether.

By four, he was pacing back and forth at his own doorstep.

Why hasn’t it arrived yet?

He had never dared to rush Mr. Xiao He about the carving, but any more delays, and it really would be too late.

The auction was at eight in the evening, but they needed to arrive earlier to deliver Yu Family’s auction items, have them assessed, and see where they would be placed.

If it were just their own items, Yu Zeming wouldn’t mind much, but it was Mr. Xiao He’s items, and he wanted to get there earlier to ensure everything was arranged properly.

But why hadn’t it arrived yet?

Yu Zeming checked the time—it was almost five.

They still had to leave for the auction venue, which would take about half an hour, and possibly longer if there was traffic congestion.

"Second, what are you doing?"

Yu Zeling, puzzled by Yu Zeming’s continual pacing, because it was too distracting for his poetry reading.

"Oh! The two of you, hurry up and get dressed. In case Mr. Xiao He’s item is delayed, you go ahead and hold down the fort at the auction, and I’ll follow with the item."

The auction?

Only then did Mr. Yu and Yu Zeling remember; they had been too engrossed.

The two hurriedly changed clothes, and just as they finished getting dressed, the doorbell rang.