Windfall life

Villa, living room.

At the time of the WeChat prompt, Lin Ning was scrolling through Douyin out of boredom.

It should be that his youth has been laid to rest, or his daughter-in-law has taken care of him.

The young lady who used to be more and more energetic as time went by became less and less the same as before.

This one has a stiff face, this one has a thick waist, this one has thick legs, and this one has a nose that looks like Gargamel.

I don’t know what I was thinking at that time. The more than 100 attentions and more than likes were all so coquettish.

"Ning Fei (Mrs. Lin): Husband, I'm here. I miss you."

WeChat belongs to Ning Fei. It is worth mentioning that after the football match that night, this senior’s temperament changed drastically.

It is no exaggeration to say that not only are there more unsolicited WeChat messages than in the past year, but they also often include photos.

Just like the photo under this message, in the photo, there are two women and a man around the dining table.

The man's jade tree stands in the wind, while the woman's face is beautiful, not to mention eye-catching. The ugliest thing is actually herself in front of the mobile phone.

"Lin Ning: It's good to be here. Auntie is so young, just like your sister."

"Ning Fei: Mr. Lin, you have received the certificate, but you still call me aunt?"

"Lin Ning: I know what you want to hear. Sorry, give me some time."

Wang Ma, Tang Ma, Zhang Ma, let’s count down the families I’ve been lucky enough to visit over the years and call them moms.

Lin Ning, who replied to the message, just thought it was hypocritical. Most people said that sentence casually and called countless moms.

A cub that doesn’t even know who its biological mother is won’t bark so easily.

"Ning Fei: Why? Is it something wrong with me? Or is it my mother?"

"Lin Ning: Don't think too much. It's my problem. I can't pass the test in my heart."

What's the problem in your heart? What's going on in your heart? Is he sick? still?

Her thoughts were racing. Ning Fei, who had read the reply immediately, thought about it carefully.

This gentleman of mine seems to be suffering from some kind of mental illness.

Just like the cellar at home, if ordinary people look at it, there is absolutely no reason to do anything to prevent theft.

As for the room key card, I didn't even ask anyone about it, so I suspected that I was disloyal.

This feeling, how should I put it, is like a mild case of persecution paranoia.

It feels like everyone around you is suspect.

Therefore, he has always been sensitive and suspicious, and if there is any trouble, he feels that someone is plotting to betray him.

is that so? Because he suffers from persecution delusion, he even guards against his wife next to him?

If this is the case, what is the root cause of his illness?

Ning Fei frowned slightly. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. She tried to find the answer in her memory.

However, the memories of later generations and everything about him are all hearsay.

"What's wrong, you're so good, why do you look like this?"

This is Ning Sumei, looking at her daughter who is quite distracted beside her.

She spoke suddenly, and when she spoke, she did not forget to give her brother a look to persuade him to leave.

"Well, you two talk first, and I'll go outside to smoke a cigarette."

Luxury watches, luxury bags, fancy clothes, and beautiful boots. He looked at the niece in front of the table again who was no longer the same as before.

Ning Yaozu left after saying that, and Ning Fei, who had just stood up and made up her mind, said softly.

"Wait a minute, I have a question. I want my uncle to help me analyze it."

"Me? Okay, if you ask, my uncle will definitely tell you everything."

"Uncle, tell me, what exactly makes a person extra suspicious and sensitive?"

Ning Fei is very direct, the reason why she is looking for her uncle is not her mother.

Part of the reason is because men understand men better.

Part of the reason is my uncle's ability to make friends with others and figure out people's hearts.

If you don't have this ability, you won't be able to become a guest of the investment promotion office in just a few days with just a few photos.

"Suspicious and sensitive, could you please tell me your friend's age, gender, and occupation?"

"The man is about the same as me, a student."

"For students, it's mostly due to their family of origin."

"Original family? What does uncle mean?"

"Isn't it said that parents are a child's first teacher? The most direct factor that can affect a person's temperament is the family of origin."

"Any more?"

"Then there is the growth experience. For example, take Emperor Yong in history. His suspicion and sensitivity were nothing more than his mother's preference for his younger brother when he was young, and the concubine De and Longkodona..."

"Okay, why is there such a wild history?"

It was Ning Sumei who interrupted, watching as her brother became more and more biased.

Guessing that her daughter was making friends out of nothing, she interrupted and took her daughter's hand.

"Don't listen to your uncle's nonsense. He talks nonsense."

"Haha, I think what my uncle said is quite good."

Without mentioning it or not thinking about it, I contacted the family of origin that my uncle mentioned and remembered the gossip that my best friend once said.

Ning Fei, suddenly enlightened, gave a thumbs up gesture to Ning Yao's team as she spoke.

"Thank you uncle, uncle is great."

"I should, it would be great if I could help you."

"It's more than just a help, it's a great help."

Of course, Ning Fei, who smiled and said nothing, did not say this.

Thanks to her uncle's advice, at this moment she not only found the key to the problem.

I also managed to remember that in the near future, my mother-in-law, who has lived in Shanghai for a long time, lives in seclusion.

Not only would he take the initiative to find her, he would also quietly transfer a building under his name to Lin Ning in advance.

"This shit, is it so outrageous?"

This is Lin Ning, different from the sudden enlightenment over there.

He muttered to himself, incredulously, sometimes looking at the system and sometimes at his phone.

Just now, I got a call from the Notes Real Estate Center, seemingly talking about a lot.

To sum it up, someone has given you a building. Bring your documents and complete the formalities as soon as possible.

Can you believe this? Someone sent me to the house out of nowhere.

Not to mention delivering the building, it is still anonymous. Even if it is anonymous, it is still a historically protected building located at the foot of the city wall.

"Seriously, do you dare to give me a hint as to whether it was you who sent it?"

Looking at the system again, Lin Ning really didn't think anyone else would send the building away quietly except the system.

If there really was such an anonymous kind person, why would he have gone there long ago?

"Okay, if you don't say anything, I'll take it as acquiescence."

There is no reason not to buy a building for free or a place that cannot be bought with money.

On second thought, Lin Ning convinced herself that it was safe and sent Zhang Wei a WeChat message on her mobile phone.

"Lin Ning: I remember correctly, does your law firm undertake similar investigation work?"

"Zhang Wei (lawyer): Mr. Lin has a good memory, so he has business in this area."

"Lin Ning: Help me check the property rights of the building. How soon will the results be available?"

"Zhang Wei: If it's this city, it's just a simple property rights investigation, regardless of cost, and half an hour is enough."

"Lin Ning: The information will be sent to your email. I want to see the results before 3 o'clock."

"Zhang Wei: No problem, I'll contact the law firm right away."

"Zhang Wei: By the way, Mr. Lin, Ms. Zhang insists on seeing the money before signing the settlement. I wonder where the bank is?"

"Lin Ning: The original words over there will be recorded before 5 o'clock at the latest."

"Zhang Wei: Okay, Mr. Lin, you are busy."

. . . . .