Wen Ying utterly despised people like Zhao Dong.
An adult scheming against a minor—shameless.
Even if Xie Qian was smarter than most boys, that didn’t make Zhao Dong’s actions right!
Thinking about how Xie Qian would return to Beijing after the summer, slipping out of her sight, Wen Ying still warned him, recounting Zhao Dong’s visit—
“Zhao Xi’s brother is terrifying. He actually offered to sponsor me just to let Zhao Xi befriend you, but he underestimated me. I’m not the type to betray friends!”
Wen Ying’s face screamed “praise me quick” with smug pride. Xie Qian was initially angry, but seeing her like this, he figured he shouldn’t waste his energy getting mad over something so absurd.
“Thanks.”
Wen Ying, thick-skinned as ever, accepted Xie Qian’s gratitude with a grin, pressing her advantage, “You’d better remember this. For our friendship, I gave up a chance to study abroad. If something comes up in the future where you need to sacrifice for our friendship, don’t hesitate.”
Once was enough.
Wen Ying seemed to be joking, but her words carried undeniable seriousness.
Xie Qian didn’t grasp her worries, yet he caught a hint of gravity in her tone.
So, though Wen Ying rejected Zhao Dong, she wasn’t entirely unaffected. His words must have stung her pride—those with high starting points find success easier, a fact Xie Qian couldn’t refute. But not all successful people start high. Wen Ying was only sixteen, yet Zhao Dong was so sure she’d never make it. With such a venomous eye, he ought to set up a fortune-telling stall under a bridge!
Wen Ying achieved her goal. After this, Xie Qian’s distaste for the Zhao family climbed another notch.
Jiang Youjia heard about it and felt awkward, earning a thorough mocking from Lin Lin.
“Your friend’s really something!”
Failing to sway Xie Qian, he resorted to threatening and bribing a young girl—Lin Lin’s eyes were opened wide.
When Jiang Youjia called Zhao Dong again, Zhao Dong picked up, still acting chummy, but the moment Jiang Youjia mentioned Xie Qian, Zhao Dong dodged.
“Youjia, I was just upset. Seeing Xi Xi come home crying pushed me to confront that girl. Would I really do anything to a kid? She’s got parents; it’s not my place to send her abroad. No idea why she’d make up something like that. Ugh, I’m done meddling in these youngsters’ affairs—the more I try, the worse it gets.”
Zhao Dong denied offering to sponsor Wen Ying’s studies abroad.
Jiang Youjia was half-convinced, half-doubtful.
In his mind, Wen Ying wasn’t exactly a saint either. Maybe Zhao Dong said something harsh, and Wen Ying spiced it up for Xie Qian.
Having lived abroad for only a few years, Jiang Youjia couldn’t fully relate to Zhao Dong’s values. He couldn’t fathom spending money to ship Wen Ying overseas over such a trivial matter—rich people’s money didn’t grow on trees, and though the Zhao family had wealth, Zhao Dong wasn’t reckless with it!
Jiang Youjia shook his head. Lin Lin fumed, “Zhao Dong’s no good anyway. Keep your distance from him, and stop meddling in Xie Qian’s business. What was a simple matter got all tangled up because of you!”
It was rare for Xie Qian to have a few friends—did this mess mean to leave him friendless?
As for Zhao Dong… without Xie Qian’s say-so, he wouldn’t even know which way the Xie family gate opened. Lin Lin was mostly annoyed at the Zhao family’s greed, not genuinely afraid of Zhao Dong.
Scolded by his wife and let down by his friend, Jiang Youjia had no face to keep interfering in Xie Qian’s affairs. Whatever doubts he had about Wen Ying, he’d have to swallow for now.
Wen Ying wasn’t surprised Zhao Dong denied saying those things.
As long as Xie Qian believed her, it didn’t matter what others thought.
But it reminded her—she needed recording gear. Next time something like this happened, she’d slap the evidence in their faces and see if those clowns could still lie through their teeth.
Sigh, what held Wen Ying back wasn’t skill—it was that cursed lack of money.
Broke, she could only dream about it.
Perhaps because Xie Qian was involved, Zhao Dong didn’t sabotage the food festival. The city TV promo aired as planned. Qin Jiao and the night stall got hefty screen time, Wang Shuang had just one or two shots—blurred at his insistence, happily playing background. Wen Ying figured it was Wang, the academic slacker’s, last shred of pride.
Since they filmed the lobster-making process, even Wen Ying got a side-profile cameo, while Xie Qian only showed his back.
The first to recognise Qin Jiao were students from the provincial key school.
Who’d have thought a campus goddess like Qin Jiao would stoop to running a stall? Classmates were too curious, becoming the first wave of customers.
At the stall, they were shocked—blimey, this makeshift setup didn’t just have Qin Jiao, it had bloody Wang Shuang too!
Shuang Shao, the school’s flamboyant outcast, was now aproned up, serving trays. From playboy to worker bee… still handsome, but why was it so hilarious?
Wang Shuang’s face darkened.
The day had finally come.
His classmates had found him.
His carefree, wild image—collapsed!
Wen Ying went unnoticed, while Xie Qian shone too brightly. A few girls, hearts aflutter, lingered after eating, asking Qin Jiao if they needed help.
“Your work-study gig donates profits, right? We’d love to pitch in!”
“Yeah, we don’t need pay!”
Qin Jiao hadn’t faced this before. Wen Ying, seeing the festival crowd swell beyond their four-person capacity, elbowed Qin Jiao aside, “Really no pay?”
“Nope! It’s for a good cause.”
“Right, no wages, we’re volunteering.”
Wen Ying knew exactly why these girls were eager to work for free but didn’t call it out. If they’d labour, she’d test them—each got an apron and set to work.
Wiping tables, sweeping, washing dishes—plenty of odd jobs to go around!
To boost the stall’s festival impact, Wen Ying and crew brainstormed a catchy name. “Shrimp Emperor” was floated, but Wen Ying recalled a chain from her past life with that name. Not wanting to steal it, she switched to “Shrimp King,” splurging on a new lightbox sign, plus umbrellas and aprons stamped with “Shrimp King.”
At Wen Ying’s request, Xie Qian drew a cute, simple lobster mascot. Wen Ying registered it with “Shrimp King” as a trademark—proper tools for proper work. This prep was done during her ankle-sprain break… well, she was grinding test papers then, dictating while Xie Qian ran the errands.
With a registered trademark, no one thought Wen Ying was joking—she was serious about turning the temp stall into a real shop.
Rongcheng TV’s down-to-earth show reached locals and nearby areas, airing at mealtime—perfect for families dining together.
On the promo’s broadcast day, Grandma Wen sat before the TV, spotting Wen Ying’s side profile. Unsure, she called her eldest grandson, Wen Kai, to confirm, “Kai Kai, quick, look—is that your sister?”
