Wang Shuang was set to snap up 5% of Li Mengjiao’s “Shrimp King” shares at Qin Yi’s price, leaving Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao no wiggle room—they had to pony up the same amount.
In less than half an hour, Wang Shuang’s phone buzzed. He bolted downstairs and came back with a paper bag packed with a crisp 50,000 yuan!
He dumped the cash in front of Li Mengjiao.
“Here, 5% is mine now!”
Li Mengjiao huffed, “Mom, grab this money quick.”
“You little money-grubber,” her mom muttered.
Wen Ying grinned, “Auntie, Dreamy should take it. She earned it with her own savvy. If we’re serious about this gig, we’ve got to keep the money stuff crystal clear, or it’ll tank our friendship. Honestly, being friends is worth way more than a few tens of thousands!”
Her words hit the right note with everyone.
Business talks demanded gravity, but once settled, it was chill time. If they weren’t pals, why team up to “start something”?
Except for Wen Ying, none of “Shrimp King”’s shareholders were hurting for cash.
It was about doing cool stuff with the right crew—that’s what pulled them together.
Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao’s funds lagged a bit, but both rolled in within an hour.
Soon, a hefty 150,000 yuan in cash sat before Li Mengjiao, and Qin Yi forked over 50,000 in “franchise fees” to Wen Ying.
Wen Ying whipped up three agreements on the fly: Li Mengjiao’s share transfer, Qin Yi’s franchise deal, and the updated “Shrimp King” ownership with Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao as new shareholders.
“Wen Ying, you can write these?” Qin Jiao blinked, floored.
With everyone watching, Wen Ying couldn’t pin it on a fake “lawyer friend.” She shrugged, “I’m into this stuff—checked it out online.”
“They’re just basic templates, easy to tweak. Print them out, and you can have a lawyer fine-tune anything off.”
She groaned inwardly.
Her fingers had itched to draft—simple agreements, done in a snap. Now she had to justify it… and couldn’t even charge a dime!
If she’d prepped them privately and printed them, she could’ve blamed the “lawyer friend” and nabbed a few hundred yuan. Reasonable, right?
While Wen Ying stewed, Xu Mei and her classmate were dazed.
They knew the Qins had money—Qin Yi’s free spending made sense.
But he didn’t snag the 5%. Li Mengjiao’s shares got carved up by Wang Shuang, Tang Yifeng, and Geng Xiao—each tossing 50,000 in cash like it was pocket change. High schoolers with that kind of dough, families delivering it lightning-fast—their wealth was insane!
In the restroom, Xu Mei’s classmate hesitated.
Qin Jiao’s tight-knit crew all oozed money. Maybe Qin Yi’s family was even richer than they’d guessed.
No wonder his parents were lukewarm on Xu Mei… She held back—saying it outright would sound like stirring drama between Xu Mei and Qin Yi.
What Xu Mei thought? Anyone’s guess.
…
Wen Ying’s month of hustling had juiced “Shrimp King” to a million-yuan valuation. Wang Shuang, now second only to her in shares, got big props from his dad. One word, and a driver raced over with 50,000 cash.
At home, though, Wang Shuang scribbled an IOU.
“Dad, this 50,000’s a loan—I’ll pay it back!”
Wang Jun nearly said, *No siblings here; this money’s yours eventually.* But Wang Shuang’s grit stopped him. He let him sign and fingerprint the IOU, then stashed it. “Pay it off, and it’s yours again.”
Tang Yifeng went home and signed one too.
Geng Xiao didn’t. He controlled his own New Year’s stash—50,000 was no sweat.
The share-buying laid bare their quirks. Geng Xiao budgeted smart, hoarding his allowance—kept spending in check, so he had savings.
Wang Shuang and Tang Yifeng? Not so much.
Wang Shuang’s New Year cash morphed into limited-edition kicks. Basketball chops aside, his shoes had to scream top-dollar swagger. Cash-strapped? Family bailed him out—student status kept it legit.
Still, Tang Yifeng rang Wang Shuang later, pitching mutual spending oversight—plan better, don’t let Geng Xiao flex solo.
Wang Shuang brushed it off, “Money’s not saved—it’s made. If I earn more than I burn, I’m golden.”
Huh, solid logic… Tang Yifeng pivoted fast: out-earn his spending.
…
Wang Shuang and Tang Yifeng went home for funds.
Li Mengjiao hauled 150,000 home.
That cash heap on the coffee table—her own haul—hit hard.
Li’s dad stayed mum.
Qin Yi pegged 5% at 50,000, hinting “Shrimp King”’s future topped a million. Jiao sold early—nah, her heart wasn’t in it. Holding shares might’ve sparked friend friction. Now was spot-on.
Li Mengjiao snuck a peek at her dad. No thunder brewing—she got gutsy:
“Dad, what’s the plan for this 150,000?”
Li’s mom shot her a look, “What’s your plan? I’ll bank it for you tomorrow.”
Seeing her pout, she added, “You’ll hold the passbook.”
Li’s dad cut in, “Not happy with your mom saving it? Lay out your idea—let’s see if it holds water.”
Their pampered girl—Li’s dad knew her inside out. Spoiled, shirked hardship, zero money sense. 150,000 out of nowhere? Wild schemes were par for the course. If she aimed to blow it, he’d rein her in, no matter the heartache. Otherwise, she’d never wise up!
Clueless her dad was poised to pounce, Li Mengjiao whined, “I’m not spending it—I wanna lend it to Wen Ying!”
That blindsided her parents.
They swapped a glance. Li’s dad kept cool, “Wen Ying asked to borrow it?”
Li Mengjiao shook her head, “Nope, my idea. I don’t need it, but she does. Thought it over on the way home—figured out why Xie Qian blocked Brother Qin Yi from shares. He thinks Wen Ying can’t match the others’ cash clout. If I asked you and Mom for tens of thousands, you’d hand it over. Wen Ying asks her folks? They might balk.”
—What did Xie Qian take them for?
—He wasn’t the only one who had Wen Ying’s back!
