Chen Li didn’t have much guile. Late at night, she passed by her husband at the entrance of their residential complex. Deng Shangwei didn’t notice her, but she was about to greet him—after all, Wen Ying was in the car too. Chen Li honked the horn, but Deng Shangwei’s car had already vanished into the distance.
“Strange…” Chen Li muttered, subconsciously shifting the car into reverse, wanting to chase after him.
Wen Ying’s heart pounded. She quickly grabbed Chen Li’s hand. “What’s so strange about it? It’s so dark, and the streetlights at the entrance of your complex should’ve been replaced ages ago. It’s normal that Uncle didn’t see you. Auntie, I’m knackered—let’s hurry upstairs!”
Tonight, Chen Li had only rushed back to Rongcheng at Wen Ying’s insistence. Neither of them had called Deng Shangwei beforehand. For him to be out so late… Wen Ying thought of a very bad possibility. She wanted nothing more than to give Deng Shangwei a proper scolding. But her auntie, Chen Li, wasn’t mentally prepared for this. If the truth came out abruptly, given Chen Li’s temper, she’d probably end up repeating the same mistakes from her past life, wouldn’t she?
Even now, Wen Ying didn’t think Chen Li’s decision to divorce Deng Shangwei in her previous life was wrong. However, after three years with He Zhen, some of his ideas had rubbed off on her.
He Zhen believed that when two people chose to marry, they were combining their resources—material and emotional. There had to be aspects that were better than when they were single; otherwise, why bother marrying?
Divorce worked the same way. If a marriage brought pain and loss, cutting your losses quickly was the best option.
But if both parties ended up worse off after the divorce, and the pain didn’t stop, then it was just treating the symptoms, not the root cause.
Wen Ying didn’t entirely agree with He Zhen’s views.
Yet He Zhen was right about one thing: in her past life, after Chen Li divorced Deng Shangwei, she didn’t find peace. She remained depressed for over a decade, still unable to move on from that failed marriage even before Wen Ying was reborn!
No, she couldn’t let her auntie follow him tonight.
With this interruption, Wen Ying successfully distracted Chen Li, who decided to call Deng Shangwei once they got home.
Chen Li parked the car and led Wen Ying upstairs.
This complex was one of Rongcheng’s earliest batches of commercial housing. When it was first launched, it was considered a high-end residence. After Deng Shangwei made his fortune in business, he settled his family here, saying it was to give his sons a good environment. The residents were either rich or influential. Deng Shangwei thought long-term—not only could his two sons grow up in a better setting, but he could also expand his network!
As a teenager, Wen Ying hadn’t cared about such things. Even when she found out, she thought Deng Shangwei’s ideas were snobbish—teenagers back then were ashamed to talk about money.
But now, with a mature perspective, Wen Ying saw some of Deng Shangwei’s decisions differently. He was genuinely impressive.
In 2004, mobile phones were mainly for calls and texts—not yet an essential item everyone carried. Unlike a decade or so later, when phones became tools for browsing the internet, people were bombarded daily with “inspirational” content from websites, marketing accounts, and viral posts. Topics like middle-class anxiety and children’s education became cash cows for content creators, with most ordinary people unwittingly led by the nose by mass-produced viral articles, constantly moaning about class solidification.
Back in 2004—or even earlier—Deng Shangwei had no access to such “chicken soup” articles. Yet he thought so far ahead when buying a house. That was his own vision.
No wonder by 2004, Deng Shangwei had already amassed a fortune worth tens of millions. If he hadn’t fallen apart after divorcing Chen Li, with his foresight and ability, another decade or two of hard work might’ve made him a notable figure in Rongcheng’s business circles!
Wen Ying followed Chen Li, noting the door numbers.
She’d once been very familiar with Chen Li’s home. After Chen Li and Deng Shangwei divorced, he’d left with almost nothing, giving the house to Chen Li. But living there reminded Chen Li of Deng Shangwei, so she soon sold it and moved to another complex.
So it had been over a decade since Wen Ying last visited this place.
Chen Li took out her keys and opened the door. The living room was dark; the nanny had already put Wen Ying’s two younger cousins to bed. The sound of the door startled the nanny awake.
“Chen Jie, why’d you come back so suddenly without calling me to come down and meet you?”
“No worries. Wen Ying came to Rongcheng with me. We ran into your Deng Ge at the complex entrance. Yao Mei, do you know where he went?”
The nanny, also surnamed Deng, was called Yao Mei by both Chen Li and Deng Shangwei.
Yao Mei was only twenty, short and stout but very hardworking. She was a relative from Deng Shangwei’s hometown. After making his fortune, Deng Shangwei was generous, often helping his poorer relatives back home. Chen Li didn’t fuss over small sums and was happy to assist Deng Shangwei’s kin too—but only those like Yao Mei, who were willing to earn their keep. Chen Li said some people were poor due to bad luck, while others were just lazy. Helping the latter was pointless; if Deng Shangwei showed even a hint of sympathy, they’d latch on like leeches. Neither Chen Li nor Deng Shangwei could afford to deal with that sort!
“No idea what Bro went out for. He said he was already downstairs and asked if Deng Jie and the boys were asleep. Then he suddenly called back saying something came up and he’d be late.”
Yao Mei was guileless, answering Chen Li’s questions honestly. She eagerly took Wen Ying’s suitcase.
“Chen Jie finally brought you here! I’ve been dreaming of you coming soon. I heard you were ill—are you better now?”
Not only had Wen Ying not visited this complex in over a decade, but it had also been that long since she last saw Chen Li’s nanny, Deng Yao Mei.
Once the couple divorced, Yao Mei, being a relative from Deng Shangwei’s hometown, couldn’t stay on as Chen Li’s nanny.
Wen Ying remembered Yao Mei crying bitterly when she left, even kowtowing to Chen Li… In modern society, nannies were hired help, not old-fashioned servants. If not for deep affection and reluctance to leave, why would Deng Yao Mei have kowtowed?
Seeing Wen Ying, Yao Mei’s eyes practically sparkled.
Wen Ying’s memories came flooding back.
Deng Yao Mei wasn’t just her auntie’s nanny—she was Wen Ying’s friend.
There was a reason Wen Ying had befriended Yao Mei. She was often put down by her parents, leaving her deeply insecure as a teenager. At school, she was a follower, buying snacks to win over classmates and fit in. Apart from two or three childhood mates, sixteen-year-old Wen Ying had plenty of shallow friendships.
But Yao Mei’s friendship wasn’t shallow. Wen Ying remembered genuinely liking her as a friend.
After all, while other friends needed Wen Ying to please them, with Yao Mei, it was always Yao Mei trying to please her!
Yao Mei didn’t cosy up to Wen Ying to indirectly curry favour with Chen Li and Deng Shangwei—she wasn’t that calculating.
It was because Yao Mei had dropped out of school at fifteen. She envied Wen Ying’s chance to study. Others might look down on Wen Ying, but Yao Mei adored her, convinced she was a top student destined for Tsinghua or Peking University. Yao Mei was Wen Ying’s fangirl, her die-hard supporter.
In her past life, Wen Ying hadn’t made it to Tsinghua or Peking University, and she’d lost Yao Mei, one of the few who’d truly cared for her.
Though Yao Mei was just an uneducated nanny, some people with years of schooling couldn’t match her sincerity.
Wen Ying couldn’t help herself—she opened her arms and hugged Yao Mei.
“Yao Mei, I’ve missed you so much!”
