"Your seventeenth brother?"
Hearing Ling Jun's words, Zhang Yuanqing's first reaction was, "Just how many siblings do you have? What number are you among them?"
The title "seventeenth brother" had a distinctly Qing palace drama ring to it. Ling Jun seemed to have rather a lot of siblings.
Ling Jun pondered for a moment before answering:
"Before the founding of the country, probably a dozen or so. Afterward, fifty or sixty. I can't remember the exact number. I'm forty-third in the family."
Zhang Yuanqing froze. As a fine young man of the new era raised under nine years of compulsory education and groomed to be a successor of socialism, his mind simply could not process such shocking information.
After several seconds of silence, he muttered, "He really is a stud."
Ling Jun was always calling his father a "stud father." Zhang Yuanqing had assumed it was mockery and ridicule, but it turned out to be a statement of fact.
"A stud is a sowing machine without feelings. When he chose women, he only cared about their genes and talent. There was no emotion involved. Isn't that exactly what a stud is? My mother was only twenty-two when she married into the Taiyi Sect, while he was already over a hundred. If the law applied to demigods, he'd have been executed over a hundred times, because all his wives could fill the entirety of Fu Family Bay." Ling Jun's words brimmed with contempt for his father.
"I'm actually kind of jealous," Zhang Yuanqing said. "Did your dad have to build an entire building for his harem?"
"Not really. He had a lot of women, but most of them remarried."
"What?" Zhang Yuanqing did not understand.
Ling Jun curled his lip.
"He was a stud. A stud's mission is to sow seeds