Chen Ru arrived home half an hour later than Wen Ying.
She had been swamped with work lately and was too exhausted to chat much with her daughter. She only asked a couple of quick questions about the gaokao estimated score. Once she confirmed that Teacher Lin Lin hadn’t passed on wrong information, all the day’s fatigue vanished in an instant. Her face softened, and she gently told Wen Ying to get some early rest.
“You rushed straight to Shanghai after the exam, and your signing even made the news. Sleep well tonight. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow!”
Wen Ying really was worn out and didn’t bother with any fake politeness with her own mother. She turned and headed straight to her room.
After washing up and returning to the bedroom, Chen Ru didn’t notice the bank card on the nightstand at first. Old Wen, however, was strutting around the bed like a proud rooster, pacing back and forth right in front of her, practically begging for attention. Finally, Chen Ru snapped.
“It’s hot. If you’re hot, turn on the air-con. Stop flapping about like that. It’s annoying!”
Wen Dongrong was long used to being scolded by his wife; this drizzle didn’t bother him in the slightest. Hands clasped behind his back, chin raised high, he nodded towards the nightstand. “There. That card is for you.”
A card? What card?
Chen Ru followed his gaze and finally spotted the bank card.
Now that was rare.
After all, Wen Dongrong had surrendered his salary card years ago!
“What’s this card for?”
Chen Ru didn’t reach for it right away. Wen Dongrong kept his chin proudly aloft. “You know I’ve been submitting pieces to magazines and newspapers. All those little royalties have added up.”
“Oh.”
Chen Ru finally picked up the card. “How much is in it?”
Wen Dongrong held up one hand and made an “eight” gesture.
Eight definitely wasn’t eight hundred.
And it probably wasn’t eight thousand either.
If it were only eight thousand, this shameless man wouldn’t be looking so smug.
Eighty thousand?
Chen Ru was genuinely shocked. “…You earned eighty thousand in royalties?”
Of course not.
There was just over eighty thousand in the account. Fifty thousand came from selling the copyright to Searching for Yong; only a little more than thirty thousand was actual royalty income, which was already extremely impressive. Wen Dongrong wrote in his spare time, and anyone who could regularly get published in magazines and newspapers was already qualified to join the city Writers’ Association!
Chen Ru had no idea that fifty thousand of it came from the book deal. Wen Dongrong, thick-skinned as ever, happily accepted his wife’s misunderstanding.
“Yep, a bit over eighty thousand. Didn’t you say you wanted to travel abroad? That should be plenty for the three of us to join a tour group.”
He had already checked the prices for overseas summer tours.
The per-person price for the better tours started at around 25,000 yuan, quite high-end.
For smaller Southeast Asian countries, it was only a few thousand each.
If they shopped sensibly and didn’t go crazy buying everything in sight, eighty thousand-plus would more than cover a family of three.
“You make this much writing short stories?”
Chen Ru was truly surprised.
Wen Dongrong boasted shamelessly, “It was tough at first, but once the first piece got accepted, the rest came more easily.”
Aside from writing, this man really had no other way to earn extra money.
Chen Ru never worried he’d dip into public funds; compared to money, Wen Dongrong loved power. He was a complete careerist.
Knowing he had earned so much through writing, Chen Ru suddenly saw her husband in a slightly kinder light.
Writing for publication was, after all, associated with “being cultured”. Their daughter was a bestselling author, and now her husband could also make money with his pen. Chen Ru felt rather proud.
She slipped the card into her wallet and used the same gentle tone she had used earlier with Wen Ying’s estimated score. “You kept copies of all the magazines and newspapers you were published in, right? I want to read them.”
This was the moment Wen Dongrong had been waiting for!
His heart was singing, but he kept his face calm. “It’s late. Go to sleep. You can read them slowly tomorrow.”
Chen Ru insisted she wasn’t sleepy and wanted to read them now.
Wen Dongrong clasped his hands behind his back again, pretended to compromise, and trotted off to the study. He returned with several magazines and newspapers.
Chen Ru read under the bedside lamp.
Her shameless husband really did have talent; his writing was solid.
She didn’t know how other authors fared, but among the melodramatic stories published in Reader’s Digest-style magazines like Zhiyin, Wen Dongrong’s pieces kept her turning the pages.
When she finished the last one, she was actually a little reluctant.
“That’s all?”
Wen Dongrong chuckled. “You think getting published is like wholesale cabbages? This many is already amazing!”
Fair point.
If being a writer were that easy, everyone would do it.
Chen Ru had no literary talent herself, so she believed whatever he said… but Manager Chen, who had no gift for literature, did have a gift for numbers. Something felt off: he earned over eighty thousand yet only had this many published pieces?
“I remember you told me Zhiyin pays up to 1,200 yuan per thousand characters once you’re established. That’s already very high, right? Do newspapers pay even better than Zhiyin?”
Oh no.
Wen Dongrong broke into a cold sweat.
How could he forget that the tigress at home was a wizard with accounts?
He tried to stay composed and bluffed, “Zhiyin definitely pays the best. Normal authors can negotiate up to 1,200 per thousand, but the editors give me special treatment!”
Really?
Chen Ru had recently been studying the stock market and didn’t know much about magazine pay rates, so she bought his story.
She showered praise on him for handing over the earnings. “Yingying still has to go to Beijing for that literary academy training. Once she’s finished, we can all go abroad. I’ll start asking travel agencies for recommendations.”
Chen Ru was already looking forward to the family trip.
Knowing the travel money came from her husband staying up late writing made her feel three parts softer towards him.
“We can plan the trip slowly. Just don’t stay up so late writing in future. We’re not as young as we used to be!”
Basking in his wife’s tender concern, Wen Dongrong’s tail was practically wagging in the air.
Writing at night was exhausting, but as the head of the household, if he didn’t push himself, should his wife and daughter suffer instead?
It was all worth it.
The couple agreed to keep the overseas trip a surprise present for Wen Ying.
They’d tell her once the official scores came out.
Just before sleeping, Wen Dongrong suddenly remembered something. “Do you really think she can score 660? Isn’t that estimate a bit too optimistic? Higher than any of her mock exams?”
Chen Ru was perfectly calm. “Even if it’s not 660, it won’t be far off. More than enough to get into Professor Shen’s university. My hope is that she maintains her third mock-exam level. If the actual score is higher than the third mock, that’ll be a delightful bonus!”
