Chapter 2The After-School Program That Changed Everything

Content and Happy sent me a friend request.

I accepted it.

She first sent an apologetic emoji.

[Sorry, sorry. I'm new here. I was just looking for an after-school program for my son. I didn't mean to steal your business.]

[But everyone's been praising what a good person you are, so I'm sure you won't hold it against me!]

I only sent two words.

[Sure.]

Content and Happy continued shamelessly.

[I knew you were a good person. So send me the kids' school information and parents' phone numbers. Ethan's mom said you have a spreadsheet, so I won't bother making my own.]

[Since you're not running the program anymore, how about I help you dispose of the tables and chairs for free? And send me a copy of your daily menus.]

Finally, she sent an emoji covered in flowers with "Grateful for You" written in the middle.

My temples throbbed.

She'd just stolen my business, yet she had the nerve to ask me for help.

Acting like she was doing me a favor.

I wanted to block her.

But then I thought there was no point arguing with someone like this.

In the end, I sent her those things anyway.

[Come get the tables and chairs tomorrow.]

On my way to pick up the kids, Content and Happy called me on FaceTime.

"Your monthly food expenses alone are twenty thousand dollars. Are you running a charity or what!"

"Girl, tell me the truth. Are you using synthetic meat or premade meals or something?"

"You're just trying to make it look good on the surface to attract more customers, right?"

Hearing her voice inexplicably irritated me.

"I don't do shady things like that."

Before I hung up, I heard her mutter.

"My husband, two sons, and I—four people—only spend three hundred fifty on food."

"Twenty thousand a month in food expenses? Who are you kidding!"

I felt worried for those parents.

No wonder she was willing to do it for five hundred a month.

She'd probably still make a killing!

Fortunately, I'd saved all the receipts and payment records from buying ingredients over the past six months. I wasn't afraid of her causing trouble.

After thinking it over, I opened my phone's video recording function and started documenting the entire process from picking up the kids to making dinner.

I didn't show the children's faces.

When asking the kids how they liked the food at dinner, I also used a voice changer.

The kids kept saying it was delicious.

Some picky eaters gave serious reviews.

"Not as good as yesterday's cod."

"I think it's not as good as the wagyu from the day before."

While waiting for parents to pick up their kids, I opened TikTok and posted the video to my account.

The title was: "What the Meal Standard Looks Like for a Fifty-One Day After-School Program"

No one knew I was a food blogger with millions of followers.

That was my main source of income.

I'd intended to preserve evidence, but unexpectedly, once the video was posted, its popularity kept soaring.

[Such premium ingredients for only a thousand a month? Where, where? I'd pay four thousand.]

[I don't even care about the food. What I really care about is that the blogger has a master teaching certificate and summarizes progress and shortcomings every day. I'm so jealous! The three-thousand-a-month program I enrolled my son in isn't this good.]

[Which lucky people get to experience this amazing deal? I'm crying with envy.]

I felt dazed for a moment.

Those lucky people had personally thrown away their good fortune.

What awaited them might be karma.