Volume One: Bloodline Intern

Chapter One: Inheritance—Great-grandma

My name is William Thompson. In this era where transmigration and reincarnation have become commonplace, I haven't been as lucky as those overpowered protagonists, but I did inherit something from my biological father!

In his own eighty-square-meter apartment, William Thompson sighed with emotion.

"If there are no issues with the trust agreement, please sign here. You will officially receive the inheritance." The lawyer, dressed in a suit, held a disposable cup, reluctantly took a sip of cheap tea, and wore a professional smile.

"Oh, okay." William Thompson picked up the pen and signed.

"Now, let's confirm again: your father left you a bank card with two hundred thousand yuan and this wooden box. I haven't opened it, so I don't know what's inside. Here is the key, please keep it safe." The lawyer placed the purple wooden box and the bank card on the table, pushing them toward William Thompson, then took a brass key from his pocket and handed it over as well.

This lawyer, apparently entrusted by William Thompson's late father whom he had never met, was to deliver the inheritance to him on his twentieth birthday.

This morning, after receiving the lawyer's call, William Thompson had been looking forward to it for a long time, thinking his deadbeat father had finally shown up. Maybe he could inherit two trillion yuan—just like in the novels, where an ordinary, mediocre guy is suddenly approached by a lawyer and learns that his second uncle is the richest man in the world, with a huge inheritance and a massive harem to claim.

So the little guy, full of nerves and anticipation, inherits the fortune and rises to the top of life.

Maybe he was dreaming a bit too much...

Still, it wasn't bad—two hundred thousand yuan in the bank was enough for William Thompson to "row his boat without oars" and live comfortably for quite a while.

Tonight, he’d celebrate with instant noodles and a marinated egg. No, he couldn't let poverty limit his imagination—tonight, he’d go to the S County Grand Hotel.

William Thompson was a native of Shanghai. His father worked at a state-owned enterprise, his mother was a housewife, and he had an older sister. An ordinary, well-off family. He had known for a long time that he was not biologically related to his parents.

When he was in his second year of middle school, his father—whose flamboyant and unserious personality had kept him from advancing—called him into the study and said earnestly, "Xianyu, actually, I'm not your real dad."

Even now, recalling those words still stings a little.

Back then, William Thompson was deep in his chuunibyou phase and stiffened his neck: "Is it my second uncle?"

Dad smacked him on the head: "I'm your adoptive father."

"Your dad and I were sworn brothers. When you were still a baby, he passed away and entrusted you to me. When you grew up, he wanted me to tell you the truth."

Every kid has been told by their parents that they were "picked up from the trash" or "gotten as a bonus for topping up the phone," and they panic and cry.

But their parents are just teasing. So when William Thompson learned the truth about his background, he was heartbroken, as if having a heart attack.

The parents who had raised him for over a decade weren't his biological parents. The beautiful sister he'd lived with for years wasn't his real sister... That might sound like a good thing, but at the time, William Thompson didn't think that far. He just lowered his head in sadness, feeling down.

Luckily, he was in his chuunibyou phase then—stubborn and tough, believing that every part of him, including his ding-ding, had to be as hard as steel to be a real man. If it had been his childhood self, upon hearing such bad news, he might have jumped off the eighteenth floor.

Dad sighed and took a property deed from the drawer: "This is what your father left you. When you turn eighteen, move out."

In a place like Shanghai, where every inch of land is precious, an eighty-square-meter apartment means you’ve gloriously become a millionaire.

William Thompson gripped the property deed tightly, feeling like he’d made a good deal.

After getting into college, William Thompson moved out to live alone, enjoying a free and unrestrained life.

His adoptive parents treated him well, still giving him a regular allowance and hoping he’d visit often. In fact, they could have kept this secret forever, but out of a man’s promise, his adoptive father chose to tell William Thompson the truth.

William Thompson opened the wooden box. Inside was a black bead and two letters.

The bead was pure black, glossy and translucent, cool and smooth to the touch.

An antique?

While William Thompson was examining the bead, the lawyer packed up the trust documents, put them in his briefcase, and said, "I'll be going now. If you have any questions, feel free to call me."

He pointed at the business card on the table.

"Oh, okay, thank you." William Thompson got up to see him out.

The young lawyer took the elevator downstairs, pulled out his phone, and dialed: "Boss, I've handed the items over to him."

A hearty laugh came from the other end: "Good work."

The lawyer, flattered, replied repeatedly, "It's my pleasure."

...

William Thompson returned to the table and glanced at the business card: Baoze Group Law Firm.