Chapter 24: The Five Stars Emerge—Great Fortune in the East

Xiao Qiang felt he needed to push harder—get everything ready first, or his mind wouldn’t settle.

This time, the things on his list were basics: mattress, bedding, everyday essentials. He drove straight to the furniture mall, wandered around for ages, and didn’t hear a single beep from the detector. So he went all in—grabbing a top-tier, 100% natural latex mattress, costing four or five thousand yuan. He hauled it onto the truck like a man possessed. Pure satisfaction surged through him. *Bro, I’m living large.*

Then upstairs to the bedding section—mulberry silk quilts, latex pillows, cotton duvet covers—just tossing them into the truck like they were free. And honestly? They were. No cost at all. The bamboo mat was a must too—summer’s best friend for beating the heat. On the way back, he passed a massive chain pharmacy and just dumped two giant bags inside without even checking what was in them. Whatever. More stuff.

Now Xiao Qiang’s head was high in the clouds. Small-town shops? Pfft. He looked down on those now. He finally understood why he’d broken up with his ex-girlfriend. Different lifestyles. She dined at fancy French restaurants every night; he ate driver’s lunch boxes. How could you ever share the same plate when your lives were so far apart? Go shopping? She’d grab whatever caught her eye. He’d be counting coins in his pocket, only to find nothing left. Awkward. Embarrassing. Bottom line? He was broke. Staying together was torture for both. So yeah—when it comes to love, you gotta match. Love? That’s just fiction. Real life? Have you ever actually seen real love out there? Me neither.

“Hmm… deep thought,” Xiao Qiang muttered to himself, nodding slowly like a philosopher lost in wisdom. If anyone had been nearby, they’d’ve sworn he’d lost his mind.

Back at the orphanage, the truck rumbled in. Xiao Qiang roared, “Everyone come out!”

“Qiangge, what’re you up to this time?” Yingzi grumbled from inside, still annoyed. Those hundred chickens had been terrorized enough. A few stray feathers still clung to her hair.

“Hey, little girl, since that Zhou Dafu came by, you’ve been acting all full of yourself.”

Yingzi turned red instantly. “Don’t say stupid stuff!”

“Fine, fine, I’m saying stupid stuff.”

“This truck is our new mobile home from now on. Your job? Set it up. Now.” He swung open the back doors. Inside? Chaos. Messy piles everywhere.

Before the adults even reacted, the kids let out a chorus of excited yelps and scrambled out, climbing into the truck like they were claiming territory. Each one wanted their own spot.

To the three women, Xiao Qiang said, “Li Mama, make sure the beds are set up. Put all the kids’ clothes and gear on the shelves. Tomorrow, we’re going on a picnic.”

The news lit everyone up. After days of tension, relief flooded through. Adults and kids alike worked until nearly midnight. Finally, the truck was transformed—cozy, organized, alive with promise. Xiao Qiang felt better than ever, even though he hadn’t done a single thing. But leadership isn’t about lifting a finger—it’s about leading. And he was leading.

May 13th, lunar calendar. All five stars aligned. Favorable for the East.

Xiao Qiang woke early, eager to practice Yi Jin Jing on the second-floor rooftop. But as soon as he opened the door, he froze.

A thick, rolling fog blanketed everything—so dense it looked like flowing water. You could almost touch it. Faint golden glimmers flickered within the mist. Visibility? Less than two meters. He’d never seen anything like it—nature’s own spectacle. He climbed up anyway, but couldn’t see a thing. Still, the fog didn’t stop him. He sat cross-legged, began his form.

After just one round, something shifted inside him. Like a new presence had settled in. The energy flowed smooth, unblocked—*transparent*, like light passing through glass. He repeated the sequence several times. Slowly, he sensed faint currents beginning to move along the meridians. Progress. He pushed harder.

As the sun rose, the fog thinned. Then vanished. The clarity disappeared too—replaced by a sudden, heavy discomfort. Xiao Qiang opened his eyes, puzzled. Why did it vanish? He stared at the sky, scratching his head. No answer.

Downstairs for breakfast. The kids had been too excited last night—they barely slept, now yawning like tired puppies. After eating, they packed up. Once everyone was in the truck, Xiao Qiang tossed two big bags into the cargo hold, slammed the door shut, and took off.

Destination: a valley thirty kilometers west of town.

Inside the truck, the kids fell asleep the moment they got in—probably because the mattresses were so comfy. Saliva dripped from corners of mouths. Snoring filled the air.

About half an hour later, they arrived.

Xiao Qiang flung open the back doors. “All out! We’re here!”

Adults stepped down. Kids stayed put.

Then Xiao Qiang shouted, “Rabbit! Look—there’s a rabbit!”

Instantly, the kids scrambled off their bunks, tumbling out of the truck, scanning the trees and grass. Nothing.

They stared at Xiao Qiang, confused.

“You were too slow,” he said. “The rabbit ran off. But don’t worry—you’ll probably see another one soon.”

They didn’t believe him. The adults bit back laughter.

Then Xiao Qiang pulled out a few homemade targets—simple wooden boards—and placed them fifty meters away. He unloaded two big bags from the truck. Opened them. Guns. Bullets. Everywhere.

“Each of you gets one gun. Time to practice shooting.”

Suddenly, everyone realized: this wasn’t a picnic. It was a training session. Eyes narrowed. Glances turned sharp toward Xiao Qiang.

But Xiao Qiang didn’t care. He’d never fired a gun before. He grabbed a box of ammo, stepped aside, and followed the drills he’d seen in movies—load, aim, fire.

*Pop, pop, pop, pop…*

Fifteen shots in one clip. Finished. He jogged over to check the target.

He scratched his head. No holes. Not a single hit.

Everyone gathered around. Then burst into laughter.

“Qiangge’s terrible! Zero hits! Hahaha! I can’t breathe!”

Even Xiao Qiang, known for his thick skin, felt a flush creeping up his neck.

“I was aiming wide on purpose,” he defended. “So you guys won’t feel bad if you miss.”

“*Pfft.*” Whistles and jeers echoed.

“Try it yourselves. Let’s see how many you can hit.”

Now everyone was fired up. This was their chance to embarrass the boss.

Bang, bang, bang—the gunfire erupted. Most bullets flew into the wild. Only a few landed near the target. Xiao Qiang didn’t know how to teach—he just watched and listened, treating it like a movie soundtrack.

After three clips each, hands ached. No training. No muscle memory. The recoil hurt like hell.

But Xiao Qiang started catching on—movies taught him something after all. He mimicked the stance, the breath, the timing. When the next clip was empty, two shots hit the target. He gave a tiny nod. Satisfied.

Then came cheers from beside him.

He turned proudly, chin lifted, ready to bask in praise.

But his neck nearly snapped.

Everyone was crowding around Xue Bin, marveling at his work. The target in front of him? Riddled with holes. Close to center. Five or six rings at least.

Xiao Qiang dropped his jaw. Slammed his fist against his chest.

*Why? Why does someone get born knowing this?*
*Is this guy God’s favorite son?*