Chapter 9: Time Is Money

After all, Jiang Zhiyun had always treated her very well.

At that moment, the program director cleverly split the live broadcast screen into two.

On the left were Chen Yu and Nian Nian; on the right was another family—the actress’s husband, Li Wei, and their son, Li Xiaojie.

On screen, Li Wei stood solemnly at the bathroom door, earnestly lecturing his son, who was struggling to rub his socks clean, about self-reliance.

“Xiaojie, remember, you’re a boy! You have to take care of your own matters! From today onward, you wash your own clothes and pack your own school bag!”

“Daddy hopes you’ll grow into a strong and upright man, not some sheltered flower who needs help with everything!”

Li Xiaojie pursed his lips, his eyes red-rimmed, but he nodded vigorously and continued battling the sweat-stinking sock.

The chat flooded with praise.

“Brother Wei’s way of educating is amazing! That’s how you raise a son!”

“Exactly! Boys need strict upbringing; it builds independence from a young age!”

“Look at Brother Wei, then look next door... what a world of difference.”

“Yeah, that other dad’s about to spoil his daughter into a cripple.”

Then a message drifted across the screen: “Look! Chen Yu’s side is causing a scene again!”

Everyone’s attention snapped back to the left screen.

Chen Yu, having heard his daughter’s long list of demands, didn’t offer any lesson in independence. Instead, he frowned and complained aloud to the empty air, displeased:

“What’s this? Such a big villa and not even a nanny provided by the show? So stingy.”

He glanced down at his expectant daughter, waved his hand with an extravagantly indulgent tone, and said:

“Nian Nian, packing your school bag is such a hassle. If you don’t want to, just leave it there.”

“Tomorrow, Dad will get you a na-nny! No, two! One to take care of your daily life, and another to keep you company, help you pack your school bag and toys. How about that?”

Nian Nian blinked, slightly puzzled: “But… Mom said we should do our own things. She said labor is honorable.”

Chen Yu scoffed, bent down, pinched his daughter’s cheek, and with a tone implying “You don’t understand how the rich live,” he patiently explained:

“Your mom was poor when she was young and has some psychological baggage. You’re different—you’re a little princess, understand?”

“Besides, you’re still young now. When you go to school and live in dorms, you’ll have to learn these life skills whether you want to or not. Since you have these conditions at home, why waste your time on boring chores?”

He declared confidently, “We have plenty of money; money is meant to solve problems.”

“Why waste time on tiring, unskilled tasks like laundry and housework? It’s better to spend time playing the piano or painting, right? Professional things should be done by professionals. This is… resource optimization!”

Inside the piano room, after Chen Yu’s flamboyant justification, an uneasy silence fell once more over the livestream.

Doubtful comments began to appear.

“Is this really good parenting? Isn’t this spoiling too much?”

“Even if you’re rich, isn’t this wasteful? What happens when the kid grows up lazy and spoiled?”

“Brother Wei’s way is the right one! Only through hardship can you become successful!”

“Heh, wait till she cries in the future!”

Yet before these doubts could gather strength, Chen Yu’s fans ruthlessly crushed them.

“What are you sour about? They have the means; so what if they spoil their daughter? Does it block your wifi?”

“Exactly! They’re rich and can raise her however they want. None of your business!”

“A bunch of poor people worrying about the lives of the rich—laughable.”

“I support Chen Yu! Daughters should be raised with luxury! Let her enjoy the best from childhood!”

“Chen Yu forever! I adore this domineering CEO-style indulgence!”

Of course, some commented:

“He’s just a freeloader pretending to be all ‘rich and willing.’ Disgusting!”

Jiang Qianyun frowned as well.

Chen Yu’s method of parenting clashed completely with her own elite education philosophy.

She believed children should be taught independence from a young age, to understand that every penny is hard-earned and to cherish and be grateful for it.

But…

Could it be that because Chen Yu was so utterly confident, she found herself thinking maybe there was some truth to it after all?

---

Unlike Jiang Qianyun’s self-doubt in the piano room and the polarized debates in the livestream, the VIP screening room was filled with waves of agreement.

At first, when Chen Yu mentioned the “nanny theory,” the room had fallen silent briefly.

After all, most of them had been raised with values of thrift and self-discipline.

But whether those were just platitudes for outsiders or true family creeds was another matter.

“Interesting, this Chen Yu guy… interesting indeed.”

“Old Li, do you think he’s right? Isn’t this just pure spoiling? What if the kid grows up useless?”

The man called “Old Li” was Li Siyuan, founder of one of the country’s top investment firms. He chuckled lightly.

“Old Wang, think about it carefully!”

“Do you spend time every day figuring out how to scrub your office toilet brush cleaner? Would you save money by washing your son’s stinky socks yourself?”

Wang, caught off guard, instinctively shook his head: “No way! I make hundreds of thousands a minute. Doing that? Are you crazy?”

“Exactly.”

Li Siyuan shrugged.

“What Chen Yu said makes perfect sense! Every minute of ours should be spent where it creates the most value.”

“The so-called ‘hard work’ and ‘independence’ are ideals meant for ordinary people.”

Others in the room nodded in sudden understanding.

Soon, Wang agreed:

“I tell my son to do his own things every day, but what happens? He takes half an hour to fold a quilt, dawdling—I get anxious watching! In that half hour, I could have made him memorize twenty more English words. Which has the better return on investment?”

He recalled forcing his son to attend a “hardship summer camp,” where his son lost ten pounds, tanned black like a lump of coal, and looked at him as if he were an enemy.

Back then, he thought it was “building character.” Now, he realized how foolish that was.