A group of students had carved out a whole new market from scratch—how much was that worth?
Yet, aside from Wen Ying, they all seemed oblivious, completely unaware of their own remarkable achievement.
Qin Yi flat-out ignored Xie Qian. No matter how you sliced it, Xie Qian didn’t seem like someone suited for business talk—mentioning money around him felt crass. But Xie Qian didn’t overlook Qin Yi. Qin Yi wanted in on “Shrimp King” and dreamed of opening a physical store in Modu—a hefty expense. Without additional investment from the shareholders, it wouldn’t fly.
Extra investment? The others might scrape by with family support, but Wen Ying?
Her family was ordinary. Small-scale ventures were fine, but asking her parents for tens of thousands upfront? They’d likely say no.
Then there was Qin Yi. Most people separated shareholding from franchising talks, but he mashed them together. If he became a “Shrimp King” shareholder, he’d get access to Wen Ying’s braised shrimp recipe. With that in hand, he could open a store in Modu, source stock directly from Zhejiang—his family was in seafood, after all—and run the whole show from supply to sales, cutting Wen Ying out entirely.
Once she was redundant, wouldn’t she be sidelined?
Xie Qian saw risks galore in Qin Yi’s proposal, all stacked against Wen Ying.
Qin Yi hadn’t planned to negotiate with Xie Qian, but Xie Qian spoke up first:
“If it’s business, let’s sit down and talk it out properly. Find a place.”
Wen Ying, close to the Qin family, couldn’t easily rebuff Qin Yi. Xie Qian had no such qualms.
“Alright, let’s find a spot,” Qin Yi agreed.
Wen Ying didn’t get why Qin Yi suddenly cared about the shrimp business.
5% for 50,000 yuan—she didn’t think he was inflating the price. In her mind, “Shrimp King” was worth that much. She just had no intention of selling or cashing out yet. Besides, her sense of its value depended on whether buyers recognised it too. Now Qin Yi wanted in, and she was curious about his angle.
She was tight with Qin Jiao, but not Qin Yi.
A sibling’s character didn’t reflect their brother’s. Casual hangouts were fine, but business demanded caution.
Li Mengjiao’s mom was lost. Wasn’t today about the 50-to-20 round? Mengjiao advanced, they were set to celebrate—why the sudden share transfer talk?
That “Shrimp King” stall—Mengjiao had only put in 2,000 yuan, right? A month later, Qin Yi’s tone suggested her 2,000 could turn into 150,000…
Li’s mom texted her husband, “Old Li, your daughter’s something else!”
The Li family wasn’t strapped—comfortable, with kids dabbling in talents—but they couldn’t match the wealth of merchant families like the Qins or Wangs.
Her kid “starting a business” with friends and netting 150,000 in a month? Li’s mom felt it was almost too hot to handle.
If it weren’t Qin Yi making the offer, she’d suspect some shady motive—using “buying shares” as a front to bribe her husband!
Xu Mei and her classmate were equally clueless.
Post-advancement, it should be celebration time. Why was Qin Yi suddenly buying “Shrimp King” shares?
Her classmate whispered, “Your Qin Yi’s really going all out to back his sister’s ‘venture.’”
Xu Mei looked down.
Supporting Qin Jiao, or someone else?
She’d learned Wen Ying held the biggest stake in “Shrimp King”—40%.
If 5% was worth 50,000, then 40% was 400,000?
In 2004, what did 400,000 mean? A relative of Xu Mei’s had just bought a place near Jing’an Temple in Modu—over 5,000 yuan per square metre. 400,000 could buy a 70-square-metre flat outright.
In a cheaper area, even less.
As a down payment, it’d snag something bigger!
Today’s match, no Qin Yi parents in sight. Xu Mei had been brimming with confidence, aiming to reach the finals and win their approval. Now she wondered if Qin Yi’s 50,000-yuan bid for 5% was their idea… Were they that keen on boosting Wen Ying, this little girl?
Her confidence deflated like a punctured balloon.
“Stop it. It’s Qin Yi’s money—he spends it how he wants,” Xu Mei said.
Her classmate nodded. Fair point—they were just dating, not married. She couldn’t control him.
“Let’s go hear what they’re discussing.”
…
The classmate dragged Xu Mei along, and the group trooped to a teahouse. Wen Ying barely got a word in—Xie Qian and Qin Yi dominated the talk.
By the end, Xie Qian convinced Qin Yi to ditch buying 5% of “Shrimp King” and just “franchise” it.
Xie Qian had Qin Yi cough up 50,000 as a franchise fee. Since the store would be in Modu, Wen Ying couldn’t oversee it. She’d provide a装修方案 to match Rongcheng’s “Shrimp King.” Modu’s franchise would get regular shipments of finished braising packs from Rongcheng. New menu items in Rongcheng would be shared immediately, and operational tweaks there could be adopted in Modu.
“This business—we’re building a brand. It’s just starting. You’re investing in ‘Shrimp King,’ but also in us. 50,000 isn’t steep,” Xie Qian said.
He paused. Wen Ying, ever the dutiful sidekick, handed him lemon water.
She’d never heard Xie Qian talk this much at once.
Xie Qian, negotiating business? He was the ultimate study god, meant for academics!
She had her rebirth cheat code, sure, but Xie Qian… Well, to normal folks, he was a cheat code incarnate.
He’d left everyone else dumbstruck.
Who was “Shrimp King”’s soul?
Wen Ying, no question. Without her, this business wouldn’t exist.
With her around, people often overlooked Xie Qian.
He saw everything, just didn’t always bother speaking up.
After a sip to wet his throat, Qin Yi stood, “You’ve convinced me. 50,000 to invest in people with your potential? Worth it. If you weren’t hoarding cash for Rongcheng’s store, you wouldn’t even give me a franchise shot, right?”
Xie Qian was guarding against him!
Qin Yi didn’t wait for an answer, grinning as he extended a hand, “I’d like to reintroduce myself.”
“We already know each other,” Xie Qian said, standing too. “Don’t blame me for overreacting. ‘Shrimp King’ is a fragile sprout—it needs protecting.”
Qin Yi chuckled, letting it slide.
Protecting “Shrimp King”—and a certain round-faced girl, no doubt.
—She’d just stepped into this world, and someone feared she’d get burned by profit, so they overcompensated.
Qin Yi hadn’t meant to sideline Wen Ying, but Xie Qian’s move reassured everyone. He yielded a step.
Li Mengjiao, missing the sharp exchange, blinked in confusion, “So Brother Qin Yi’s not buying shares? Who’s taking that extra 5%?”
Wang Shuang stretched lazily, “I’ll take it. Same price Qin Yi offered.”
