Could Xie Qian be worried she might fall into early romance?
Their eyes met, and Xie Qian sat quietly, his presence like a rainbow yet misty, utterly perfect without a single flaw. Wen Ying’s ears turned red unknowingly, her earlobes burning.
This was why she was determined to change Xie Qian’s tragic fate—he was truly a warm and kind person.
He didn’t eat fried skewers but always joined them at the skewer shop.
He called them dim-witted but insisted on tutoring them every weekend.
Worried she might neglect her studies, he fretted like an old mother hen that she might fall in love too soon!
“Actually, it’s not… not at all what you think!”
Wen Ying’s ears burned, making her stammer.
Xie Qian looked puzzled.
Not what?
With several friends watching, Wen Ying couldn’t bring herself to blurt out, “I’m not dating Song Shao,” as such an explanation felt odd.
Xie Qian wasn’t her boyfriend, so why should she explain this to him?
Stay calm, don’t panic—she’d faced all sorts of situations as a lawyer in Shanghai, this was nothing.
Wen Ying understood the logic, but her heartbeat wasn’t under her control.
“Nothing,” she mumbled, even her denial hesitant.
Xie Qian found it strange, and Li Mengjiao was heartbroken: early romance was indeed toxic, turning the bold Wen Ying into a shy mess.
*Sigh, Wang Shuang said these two weren’t secretly dating, but Wang Shuang’s judgment is clearly unreliable!*
Li Mengjiao caught a whiff of a sweet aroma.
Across the street, a woman selling roasted sweet potatoes rode by on a tricycle, the scent carried by the wind. Suddenly, Li Mengjiao found her skewers less appealing.
“Hey, sweet potato seller!”
With Teacher Yuan absent, eating a roasted sweet potato wouldn’t hurt, but despite calling out twice, the woman didn’t hear.
Wen Ying followed Li Mengjiao’s gaze and froze, instinctively standing up.
“Forget it, I won’t eat. She’s got business and ignores it,” Li Mengjiao said.
She thought Wen Ying was going to chase the seller for her, but Wen Ying wanted to get a clearer look. In that brief moment, Zhu Meiqun’s figure on the tricycle vanished into the crowd at the school gate.
“What did you see?” Xie Qian asked.
Wen Ying wasn’t sure, “I think I saw my aunt, but that can’t be right. Did I mistake her?”
It wasn’t a weekend or holiday—why would Aunt Zhu Meiqun be selling roasted sweet potatoes on Rongcheng’s streets?
Had Zhu Meiqun lost her job?
Impossible.
In her previous life, Zhu Meiqun worked at the same factory until retirement, never changing jobs. By the time Wen Ying was reborn, Zhu Meiqun was already collecting her pension.
Even after retiring, Zhu Meiqun didn’t stay idle.
Wen Ying recalled that in her previous life, her cousin Wen Kai took the college entrance exam in 2004, narrowly missing a top university in Beijing. Instead of retaking the exam, he pursued a master’s degree in Beijing, later securing a job there. By 2015, he and his girlfriend saved enough for a down payment to buy a house in Beijing and got married—a good time to buy, as by 2019, when Wen Ying bought in Shanghai, housing prices were far higher!
Even buying earlier, her uncle and aunt, working modest jobs in a small city, could hardly save much. Buying even a few square meters in Beijing was tough, so they offered little help when Wen Kai bought his house.
Wen Kai didn’t mind, but his parents felt guilty. Despite retiring, Zhu Meiqun worked as a nanny and postpartum caregiver in their hometown, tirelessly saving for Wen Kai to ease his life in Beijing.
By 2019, Wen Ying knew Wen Kai earned a high salary, no longer needing parental support.
But his parents couldn’t get past their guilt, feeling Wen Kai’s mortgage and family in Beijing were heavy burdens. As parents, they couldn’t just watch him struggle. National retirement ages didn’t apply to them; with their rural mindset, they’d work until they physically couldn’t—their true “retirement”!
Zhu Meiqun had been a nanny and caregiver, but never sold roasted sweet potatoes.
Wen Ying was initially certain of this, but rethinking her past life, she grew unsure.
As a clueless teen in her previous life, she missed even her aunt and uncle’s marital issues under the same roof, let alone whether Zhu Meiqun, living elsewhere, had sold sweet potatoes.
Wen Ying didn’t think selling sweet potatoes was shameful. In front of her friends, she didn’t hide her emotional turmoil, frowning slightly, “Since coming to Rongcheng for school, I’ve paid less attention to home. I didn’t even know my aunt was selling sweet potatoes here. I wonder if her family’s in trouble.”
Sure, everyone has their own life to live, and no one can live it for others, but with the means to help struggling relatives—especially ones not as troublesome as Wen Hongyan—Wen Ying’s heart wasn’t that cold. Why else would she bother saving Yang Xi, a “heroic firefighter” from her past life, a total stranger?
Li Mengjiao, carefree as ever, said casually, “Just ask. Find out the reason, then decide if you should help. My dad always says don’t be too calculative with relatives; help out if someone’s in need… but he never lends money to gambling relatives!”
Li Zhentao believed in “shared prosperity.” If only your family thrived while relatives and friends struggled, you could help them in tough times, but if your family fell, struggling relatives couldn’t help back!
Leading the pack was thrilling, but when everyone’s doing well, relationships are easier.
Xie Qian, always the most rational, lived up to his top-student brain, offering Wen Ying the best advice, “Go home and ask your parents. They might know something you don’t. Hear what they say.”
Wen Ying nodded slightly.
Ask who?
This time, she didn’t ask old Wen, who always took on too much for the Wen family. Manager Chen was more rational.
Wen Ying chose to ask Chen Ru at home.
Chen Ru was surprised, “You saw your aunt selling sweet potatoes at the school gate?”
Zhu Meiqun and Wen Changlin coming to Rongcheng to make a living was hidden from Wen Dongrong. Chen Ru admired their grit, but if Zhu Meiqun set up her sweet potato stall at the provincial key school’s gate, Chen Ru couldn’t help but suspect a motive.
Setting up there was like displaying it for Wen Ying—why not just ask for help directly?
