The Frugal Genius Raises Children Alone

Arrogant deities automatically erase all memories of mortals upon conceiving a child with them. Thus, the absent-minded and magic-deficient Tea God Bai Qingyu, faced with his son’s question—“Dad, do I have a mom?”—scratches his cheek in confusion: No idea. Rumor has it the city offers better schooling, so to secure his son a superior education, Bai Qingyu decides to follow the bricklayer next door and takes his child to the city to seek work. A kind soul recommends him for a nanny position in a mansion—good pay, and he can bring his kid along. Only catch? The master of the house has a terrible temper, is picky to a fault, and hard to please. * After losing his memory from a fall three years ago, He Renyuan grew explosively temperamental. The new nanny, with his innocent face, airs diapers on his balcony, turns the garden into a vegetable patch, and even raises chickens… He Renyuan erupts in fury every day. The mansion staff tremble, waiting for Bai Qingyu to get fired. Three months later… He Renyuan attends the parent-teacher meeting for the nanny’s son. Returning from the meeting, He Renyuan falls into deep thought. Why does everyone assume this kid is his own? * He Renyuan loves tea; Bai Qingyu is practically steeped in it—He Renyuan swims three times a day in the pool Bai Qingyu just used! Bai Qingyu: I really am good tea! He Renyuan: “...”

[Completed, Super Sweet!] 1. After being away on business for three months, his wife is two months pregnant. Lu Xiao stays up all night. The reckless third young master of the Lu family, as seen by outsiders, stubs out his cigarette and says to Meng Xuehuan, who frowns slightly, "I’ll quit. Won’t smoke in front of you from now on." 2. On her first day in the entertainment industry, Meng Xuehuan and Lu Xiao got married—a business arrangement, with an agreement to divorce once she became famous. The duo blew up, and Meng Xuehuan presented the divorce papers. Lu Xiao scoffed, "Famous? This is just the beginning." Two years later, Lu Xiao left the industry to go into business, and Meng Xuehuan planned to divorce. Lu Xiao: "No rush. I need a stable marriage to face the shareholders." Lu Xiao went abroad to expand his ventures, while Meng Xuehuan was diagnosed with a false pregnancy. Even a false pregnancy could determine the "conception" date. He hadn’t planned to say anything to avoid disrupting Lu Xiao’s work, but Lu Xiao found out anyway. Meng Xuehuan recalled, "It was two months ago… the night you secretly came back." Lu Xiao didn’t tell Meng Xuehuan that, seeing him asleep that night, he had softened and didn’t go all the way. But not entirely—his fingers had still worked him over thoroughly. Luckily, he’d made it back that one night, leaving him the dignified role of becoming a father. 3. Lu Xiao quietly took care of Meng Xuehuan through a month of false pregnancy symptoms. Before he could do anything else, Meng Xuehuan had another false pregnancy. ?!?! Lu Xiao snapped in an instant, spiraling into madness and driving his wife away. Meng Xuehuan: Oh no, he’s going to find out I’m a bee queen. 4. Later, when Meng Xuehuan really was pregnant, Lu Xiao calmly stated, "In spirit, I’m already a father of three." (The "shou" has bee spirit lineage, with a unique pregnancy mechanism. Mind and body, 1v1.)

A stunning beauty suddenly transmigrates to ancient times and gets bound to a tech-tree system. *"Can’t you bind a workaholic instead?"* System: *"Hurry up and move! Don’t you want electric lights?"* The beauty: Critical hit. System: *"If you really don’t want to work, just have a baby and transfer me to them."* The beauty: *"You mean…?"* *Give birth yourself!* The beauty closes his eyes. *"Let me consider it."* Watching him slack off relentlessly, the system cries: *"Heaven sends no sage—eternity remains in darkness!"* *Go find that child a father!* Lazing in the courtyard, the beauty points skyward and declares: *"Sages have no fathers—conceived by divine grace!"* The next moment, the emperor, affected by a love curse, falls from the sky. The beauty: *Unbelievable.* Year Three of Pingjia—the emperor tours the south, passing Yangzhou, where the people prosper and education thrives. Officials praise the governor for his benevolence: *"Not a soul is left uncared for!"* Then, a two-year-old toddler stumbles forth, begging for food. *"Three bowls—one for me, two for Dad!"* The little voice chimes. The emperor’s gaze darkens. *"Where is your father?"* *"In bed."* *"Paralyzed?"* *"Huh?"* Never did the lofty emperor expect his wife and child would be begging. Little prince: *"I’m super good at begging!"* Lazybones: *"Enough, kid."*

Jiang Li, the cold and beautiful academic genius from University A’s medical school, has two secrets. 1. His pheromone was colorless and odorless, yet it render all Alphas impotent. 2. He suffers from severe stage fright—so severe that his breathing becomes irregular, preventing him from completing his graduation defense. The defense requires a panel of 33 professors taking turns to question candidates, with no exemptions unless one applies for a grading-based evaluation in late pregnancy. Jiang Li: That’s a good solution, but— By chance, a friend introduces him to soothe the pheromone storm of a mysterious, irrational Alpha. Surprisingly, someone can actually smell his pheromones without losing potency—and is even calmed by Jiang Li. Six months later, at University A’s graduate defense session: Jiang Li stands with a slightly rounded abdomen and pale lips, avoiding eye contact with the panel below. By the end, his clothes are drenched in cold sweat. His research is flawless, and the room falls silent as the grading system prepares to announce a perfect score— Suddenly, a deep voice echoes from the back row. "On the night of December 3rd, were you really in the lab?" Cen Lang flips open the lab log, presses a slender finger against the date, and raises cold, questioning eyes. Jiang Li’s phobia flares up. Clutching the table, his face turns ghostly pale. "...Yes." What, can’t I still drag myself out to run an experiment? Cen Lang has endured pheromone storms for twelve years, leaving anyone near him during episodes with chronic neural pain. Until one day, a fleeting deity descends. Only to leave him a counterfeit. Cen Lang folds his hands, gazing lazily at Jiang Li with dangerous intent. "Those who dare lie to me—" Jiang Li: "Can I draw a vial of your pheromones?" Cen Lang: "...Fine."