Chen Ru wanted Wen Ying to pack up her stall and call it quits, but Wen Ying wouldn’t budge.
Back in Rongcheng, the shrimp night stall roared back to life. After a few days away, they’d already earned some loyal fans:
“You’re finally open again!”
“We thought you kids got bored after a few days and ditched the business.”
“Seriously, where else are we supposed to get braised shrimp if you’re closed?”
Today’s crew was just Wen Ying, Xie Qian, Qin Jiao, and Wang Shuang—four in total. Li Mengjiao had passed her audition and gotten a slot for the next recording. Though she bragged her rivals were nothing special, Wen Ying saw through her bluster and insisted she stay home to prep for the next round. The gang unanimously agreed—even Xie Qian backed it.
Xie Qian’s logic was straightforward: if Li Mengjiao flopped in the first round, Wen Hamster would be bummed and lose interest in watching live tapings at the station. Then he’d have to dig up new ways to keep her hooked. Sure, Wen Hamster could scrape by with a 120 in math, but her physics and chemistry had tons of room to grow!
Finding new sparks wasn’t impossible, just a hassle—and Xie Qian hated hassle.
Wen Ying had no clue the academic ace was stressing over her. She’d just fed a wave of customers when Big Liu, the BBQ shop owner, sidled up.
“I saw the food festival ad on TV earlier—don’t you feel like the street’s busier tonight? Director Lü says the city station’s filming a promo tomorrow. Your stall’s definitely getting the most screen time.”
Big Liu’s tone dripped with envy.
Wen Ying thought to herself, *It’s not just screen time.* Big Liu might be a shrewd night market boss, but he didn’t grasp the clout of a top-tier Rongcheng high school.
Thanks to the school, the city station’s promo would spotlight Wen Ying and her crew’s “venture” front and center. She and Li Mengjiao weren’t even enrolled yet, Wang Shuang was a notorious slacker, and Xie Qian wasn’t from the provincial key school. Only Qin Jiao—great grades, great looks—was camera-ready. Wen Ying, though absent from the stall for a couple days, had been coordinating with Qin Jiao, who’d graciously agreed.
No need to flaunt that to Big Liu—it’d sound like bragging.
Big Liu noticed Wen Ying’s harmless face didn’t match her tight lips. She wasn’t easy to pry open. He lingered by her stall, chuckling awkwardly.
Her patience worn thin, Wen Ying tossed him a bone:
“Brother Liu, you’re a stand-up guy. The promo’s got your BBQ shop in it—don’t worry.”
Big Liu lit up, promising a free grilled fish to every table at Wen Ying’s stall. She couldn’t let that generosity go unmatched—shrimp went his way in return.
Word spread down the street: Big Liu and Wen Ying were tight. Before, other owners didn’t care—now, with the food festival looming, jealousy brewed.
Director Lü clearly favored these student vendors. Big Liu, shamelessly cozying up, was set to ride the festival wave and boost his BBQ shop’s fame!
Inside Big Liu’s place, one table stood out: a young man with a pricey wristwatch and a little girl in a high-end dress.
The shop’s tables, worn from years of use, held stubborn grease in their cracks no matter how much they were wiped. For the street office’s hygiene push, Big Liu had spruced up every chair and bench—they looked much cleaner.
Even so, this pair found the place lacking.
A tray of dozens of BBQ skewers sat untouched.
Forget eating—the little girl wiped the chair repeatedly, laying down a handkerchief before sitting.
Her gaze locked across the street.
A makeshift night stall.
A tacky banner.
Cheap plastic tables and chairs.
And Xie Qian, calmly serving plates and pouring water.
Even doing grunt work, Xie Qian looked good—but the girl was livid:
“How dare they make Xie Qian do this!”
Those people weren’t his friends, were they?
Real friends wouldn’t drag a noble swan like Xie Qian into a chicken coop!
She was near tears, as if her coveted toy—something she couldn’t have—was snatched by bumpkins who didn’t know its worth and tossed it in the mud. Outrageous, unbearable—she turned to the young man: “Brother, you’ve got to help me—no, help Xie Qian! We can’t let him keep getting fooled by those hicks!”
Zhao Dong sighed helplessly.
“Qianqian, you’re not a kid anymore—watch your mouth! They’re not hicks. The girl, Qin Jiao, is Qin Xianming’s daughter. The guy, Wang Shuang, is Wang Jun’s only son. Qin Xianming and Wang Jun aren’t in our circle, but they’ve got assets in Rongcheng. Their kids aren’t bumpkins by any stretch.”
Zhao Qian’s eyes fixed on Wen Ying, busy braising shrimp.
“What about her? Whose daughter is she?”
Zhao Dong studied Wen Ying too.
Compared to Qin Jiao and Wang Shuang, Wen Ying was the real small-town nobody.
Yet this ordinary girl from a nowhere family had befriended Xie Qian—and tied him to Qin Jiao and Wang Shuang to boot.
Across the street, the night stall’s little crew revolved not around Xie Qian, Qin Jiao, or Wang Shuang, but Wen Ying—the most average, least flashy one.
That knack baffled Zhao Dong.
“Qianqian, she’s not anyone’s daughter—she’s just herself. You focus on rivals who match you, but ignore those way below. You think they’re not worth your time, but that’s your mistake. They’re the ones who’ll trip you up.”
Zhao Qian bristled at his words. Zhao Dong doubled down: “If you dragged Xie Qian to run a stall, would he go?”
Zhao Qian flushed with shame.
Ask Xie Qian to work a stall? Never!
She and Xie Qian had a million better places to go.
Last winter break, she’d catered to his tastes, inviting him to the provincial library—he didn’t even show. Her glare at Zhao Dong was pure accusation, but he pressed on, unfazed: “See? You can’t do it, but someone did. Think Xie Qian would listen to a nobody?”
Of course not.
Xie Qian was polite but cold to the core—Zhao Qian had hit that wall plenty last winter.
Zhao Dong seized the moment, nudging her: “To beat your rival, know them first. Go make friends with that Wen Ying girl. Join their circle, and Xie Qian won’t ignore you anymore.”
