Chapter 167 I Thought You Hated Rich People

The ultimate dream would be to climb to the top of the financial world and crush Yvette under my feet. Now, that would feel satisfying. But the reality was that my ex-wife, Yvette, had started at the top. She had wealth, connections, and a razor-sharp business mind. To outshine her, I'd probably need to be reborn and start life at her level. Uncle Benjamin stared at me, wide-eyed in disbelief. After a moment, he let out a low chuckle and reached out to ruffle my hair. "You're nothing like your mom. She gave up everything for love back then. I support you, though. Whatever you want to do, just go for it—don't hesitate." The mention of my mom hit a nerve. She'd loved my dad so deeply that she sacrificed everything for him, only to end up with nothing but illness in return. In both my past and present life, I felt grateful she never found out her favorite younger sister had been involved with her husband 20 years ago. If she had known… it would've broken her. She might've gone insane. I fiddled with my phone absentmindedly until Kenny's words came back to me. My gaze drifted toward Uncle Benjamin. "Uncle Benjamin, did you text Lila asking her questions about me? She's been dealing with some things, so her phone's been out of reach. But just so you know, I love my house. Even if it's only 400 square feet, it's mine, and it's my home." Uncle Benjamin gave me a long, thoughtful look. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he was debating something, but he finally spoke. "Owen, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I was going to text you about it this morning, but then you messaged me first." I felt a wave of unease. The serious tone in his voice was unsettling. Was he about to tell me his illness had gotten worse and he wasn't planning to have surgery? "Just say it, Uncle Benjamin. I'm all ears." He finally came out with it. "I've been wanting to give you a proper gift since the day we reunited, but every time, I messed it up and it didn't suit you. Last time, you mentioned liking houses, so I decided to buy you one. That document you signed before? It was the contract for the house. I paid for it in full—no cost to you." "What's more, the manager of the property called me, saying they've been trying to get you to come by, but you blocked their number. I thought maybe you didn't like the place I picked, so I figured I'd take you to see other options until you're satisfied. What do you think?" I blinked, stunned. My brain barely processed what he was saying. First, I was shocked he bought me a house. Then, I was shocked he paid for it in full. And finally, I was floored when I realized he'd bought me a villa. "Uncle Benjamin… you don't mean the one in Solbert District, do you?" I stammered. That was the most exclusive neighborhood in town. You couldn't even get your foot in the door without millions, probably tens of millions. He nodded confidently. "Yeah." I could barely get the words out. "You paid it in full?" "Yup. I even recorded a video of the transaction if you don't believe me." He pulled out his phone, eagerly showing me a video of the property. As he scrolled through, he rambled on about the features, like he was trying to sell me on it. "The property isn't that expensive," he said modestly. "I just thought it suited you perfectly. It's really spacious, and I heard from the manager that he's already explained everything to you, but you didn't respond and even blocked him. You really don't like it?" My mind was spinning. All I wanted to do was scream, "Holy crap!" This was way too much for me to handle. I had always thought the guy who kept calling and claiming to be my "house manager" was some scammer from overseas trying to pull one over on me. What the hell was happening? Had the world gone crazy, or was my brain malfunctioning? Maybe my divorce from Yvette had actually driven me insane. I stared at my uncle in disbelief, my voice trembling. "Uncle Benjamin… Where did you get all this money? Weren't you broke?" Wasn't this the same uncle who got disowned by Grandpa, so poor he couldn't even afford a razor? He'd always been so down and out, stuck in a rut, like the world had chewed him up and spit him out. He looked just as baffled as I was. With an expression of pure confusion, he rubbed my head again. "Who told you I was broke? I've got my own business—why would I be poor? I just thought you hated rich people." I was so overwhelmed, my whole body buzzed with adrenaline. I nearly fainted. "Uncle Benjamin, who hates rich people?" If I had money—if I were rolling in it like Yvette—I wouldn't have spent years grinding away, paycheck to paycheck. I wouldn't have had to beg, plead, and grovel for Uncle Benjamin's surgery fund, humbling myself in front of Yvette and my scumbag dad. I didn't hate rich people. I prayed every day for a winning lottery ticket, dreaming of overnight success. Uncle Benjamin watched me intently, his lips twitching like he wanted to say more. Finally, he spoke. "Your mom hated rich people. Your dad was dirt poor when they met. Your grandpa warned her he wasn't a good man and didn't have what it took to build a life. "He tried to stop her from marrying him, even locked her in her room. But one night, she climbed out the window with help from Lexi, and they ran off together. "When you were born, your grandpa let it go, but your dad held a grudge. In all those years, he never once set foot in your grandpa's house, and he didn't let your mom or Lexi visit, either. "Your mom didn't just cut ties—she refused any financial help from us. Any money we gave her, she sent back. Any houses we bought her, she sold off. She said wealth felt cold and empty, but your dad's bowl of plain gruel gave her a sense of home. "She wanted nothing from us, and it drove your grandpa to the hospital with anger. After that, she must've felt some regret because she started bringing you around occasionally."