How many people long to hear such words from Old Fu, yet he rarely says them.
If word of Wen Ying’s treatment got out, it’d spark envy.
Wen Ying, thrilled, said, “There’s actually a lot I need your help with!”
The legend of the Nine Cauldrons is widely known.
*The Records of the Grand Historian* states, “Yu collected metal from the nine provinces and cast the Nine Cauldrons.” Legend says Yu the Great divided the land into nine regions, ordering each to offer bronze to forge the cauldrons, symbolizing the nine territories. He had the great mountains, rivers, and wonders of each region engraved on them, making the cauldrons the Xia Dynasty’s treasures, embodying supreme authority and divine mandate. Supposedly lost after Qin conquered Zhou, they vanished into history. Even without myths, these brief lines hold a wealth of historical shifts ripe for exploration!
But this richness means Wen Ying’s series demands extensive research.
Myths can be flexible, but history can’t be mangled.
Even a decade later, some materials wouldn’t be online.
Wen Ying wasn’t aiming to parrot myths. Readers wouldn’t buy a dry historical retelling. A novel’s charm lies in engaging plots, not tedious exposition.
Yet for a series, the backdrop must be grand.
Grand doesn’t mean fluffy—it needs a solid foundation to support bold imagination!
That foundation was Wen Ying’s weakness.
Sometimes, a few casual lines readers breeze through hide hours of research, giving the work its effortless weight.
But such details, easily overlooked, lend unique vitality when savored.
What Wen Ying couldn’t find or organize, Old Fu surely could.
Even if he didn’t know, his decades of connections would.
So when Old Fu offered help, Wen Ying was genuinely elated, bowing sincerely. “Thank you so much!”
Old Fu was amused.
Supporting her in print didn’t earn such gratitude, but this did.
This was a creator’s true attitude.
A cultural figure’s integrity shines in many ways. Bowing for the sake of art isn’t shameful. Young Old Fu once loitered at someone’s door for three days to borrow a book. Wen Ying’s attitude hit his sweet spot!
The meeting went surprisingly well. Old Fu promised to review the 30 selected entries quickly and invited Wen Ying and Zhang Guangzhen to decide the top three together.
“Your competition isn’t purely literary. You have your own needs and tastes. What an old man like me likes might not fit. Deciding together makes everyone happy.”
Wow.
Wen Ying was at a loss for praise.
This elder was both venerable and perceptive, no wonder he had such clout and connections in literature. One meeting, and Wen Ying revered him. His long-time students must see him as a god!
Old Fu found an excuse to send Wen Ying out but kept Xie Qian, winking at him. “Does she know you played book boy for her?”
“…”
So serious moments ago, now the old-kid vibe was back?
Even with Wen Ying gone, Xie Qian denied it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Old Fu pointed at him, laughing. “I’ve seen plenty of stubborn kids like you.”
Stubborn? So what.
As long as he didn’t admit it, the hamster couldn’t confirm her suspicions!
As Xie Qian stepped out, Wen Ying grabbed his arm. Though winter, the heated room made his thin shirt enough. Her touch made him uneasy.
“Talk properly, no grabbing.”
Tch, grabbing?
Last summer, when they threw rotten eggs at Pan Li’s music school, she held his hand, and he didn’t shake her off. Now a touch was too much?
Xie Qian froze after saying it.
That line was too familiar.
The scene, even more so.
—How was he quoting Wang the Slacker?!
Shocked, his thoughts stalled, making Wen Ying awkward. “I just wanted to ask what Old Fu said. He sent me out—did he share his real thoughts?”
“If he had thoughts, he wouldn’t need to send you out. You can tell he likes you, right?”
Xie Qian regained his cool, questioning her. Wen Ying, sheepish, said, “I can feel it, but I worried I was wrong. Just wanted to confirm with you.”
If she alone thought so, it might be her own bias.
Xie Qian agreeing steadied her.
She didn’t consider that if Xie Qian saw her through a filter too, their mutual hype could inflate things…
Xie Qian’s focus shifted to her fantasy adventure series.
Ditching *Teen Idol*’s campus genre—because campus stories sell books but may not adapt well?
Her fantasy series reminded him of *Harry Potter*.
*Harry Potter*, a global mega-IP!
Wen Ying wasn’t just writing for publication.
Her bet with Wang Jun—to buy his remaining Tianjiao shares—made her a shareholder, though small. She’d plan the rest slowly. Tianjiao’s scale was limited; it could handle urban dramas but not fantasy adventures with heavy special effects.
Unless he took over Jinhu Group’s film company for extra support.
But Xie Jinghu would never hand it over.
Even if Xie Jinghu didn’t care about the company, if Xie Qian wanted it, he’d refuse.
He needed a way to make Xie Jinghu willingly pass it to him!
Xie Qian’s eyes shifted, and Wen Ying panicked.
“Xie Qian…”
“Don’t talk. I’m thinking.”
“Oh.”
Wen Ying clammed up.
What if he was planning a brutal exam? Best not draw fire.
She’d never guess Xie Qian had gone from indifferent to family assets to scheming to hollow out Jinhu Group!
As the saying goes, you guard day and night, but a house thief is hard to stop. Once Xie Qian set his mind to it, Xie Jinghu was in real danger.
