“Auntie, are you joking? I’d love to sign with the organizers, but they’d have to want me first. If you ever have time to hear me sing and can last more than two minutes, you’d be closer than my real aunt!”
Qin’s mother burst into laughter.
“You little rascal, always charming people!”
“I’m serious.”
People are strange. Qin’s mother knew Wen Ying was dodging the topic, but she couldn’t help laughing and found Wen Ying adorable.
Qin’s mother only suspected, but Qin Yi knew Wen Ying’s singing was actually decent.
After the preliminary round, when Xu Mei and Li Mengjiao both advanced, Qin Yi took everyone to karaoke to celebrate. Wen Ying had sung.
Her self-deprecation now was just to avoid awkwardness. No wonder his dad liked Wen Ying so much. Nobody could dislike someone so clear-headed and genuine. Fu Jing could learn a thing or two from her.
Thinking back, Qin Yi realized Xu Mei hadn’t cared much about the competition initially. Fu Jing’s constant encouragement made her take it seriously.
Xu Mei signed the contract before the competition, hiding it from him, her boyfriend, but not from Fu Jing.
Fu Jing meddled in Xu Mei’s life and their relationship. Thinking of what Fu Jing said after Xu Mei signed, Qin Yi felt something was off. He was dating Xu Mei. Their relationship’s pace should be set by them, not Fu Jing.
While Wen Ying was charming Qin’s mother, Xie Qian appeared at the door.
Thank goodness, Xie Qian to the rescue!
Wen Ying sighed in relief.
Xie Qian greeted Qin’s mother and son, then turned to Wen Ying. “I’ve got some family stuff and need to head back. Want to share a cab?”
Wen Ying nodded vigorously. “Yes, if I don’t get home soon, my mom will worry. Give me one minute to say bye to Qin Jiao and the others.”
Qin’s mother waved her off. “No need to go back in. You two head home. I’ll tell Jiao and the others.”
“Bye, Auntie! Bye, Brother Qin!”
Wen Ying left without hesitation. Qin’s mother chuckled at her retreating figure. “Running so fast, like I’m going to eat her.”
Qin Yi sighed. “You asked Wen Ying to weigh in on me and Xu Mei. Of course she’d bolt.”
Qin’s mother huffed. “She sees others’ matters clearly, but when it’s her own, she’s blind. Fine, it’s your relationship. I won’t meddle.”
In the hall, Xu Mei noticed Qin Yi and his mother had been gone for a while.
Biting her lip, she said, “I didn’t tell Qin Yi about signing. He’s smart; he must know by now. Do you think he’s mad?”
Fu Jing shrugged. “Other girlfriends act out, but you’re so considerate. It’s not a mistake, so why tiptoe around? Instead of worrying about Qin Yi, think about how to tell your family.”
Xu Mei’s family knew about the competition.
They didn’t know about the contract.
Xu Mei planned to keep it quiet until she couldn’t.
“I signed, but I won’t quit school. Tomorrow, I’ll buy a ticket back to Shanghai and return to Hunan before the finals.”
In 2004, Chinese universities were strict. Xu Mei’s top Shanghai university, not an arts school, wouldn’t support long leaves for talent shows.
Xu Mei was ready to shuttle between Shanghai and Hunan.
For a student like her, without Qin Yi’s money, multiple round-trip flights would be costly.
But Xu Mei saw these as surmountable. She’d signed, and after the finals, the company would send her to commercial gigs, bringing income.
She longed for that day.
—
Xie Qian hailed a cab and dropped Wen Ying home first.
They didn’t discuss the competition. Both went to support Li Mengjiao, and her loss of the Rong City championship was expected.
Yet, seeing the predicted outcome, Wen Ying felt down.
Even after rebirth, she faced harsh realities so soon.
She couldn’t escape them, nor could her friends. Most students lived obliviously, which wasn’t always bad. The clearer you saw, the sooner you faced these “unspoken rules.”
“You’re upset because Li Mengjiao didn’t win?” Xie Qian said. “You mentioned the organizers might let runners-up join the annual finals. She still has a shot.”
Wen Ying shook her head. “I know there’s no free lunch. The organizers run this huge cross-province competition for profit. Li Mengjiao didn’t play by their ‘rules,’ so it’s no surprise she didn’t get champion. But…”
“But you understand it all and still get mad, feeling she was treated unfairly.”
Xie Qian softened his voice.
That was Wen Ying.
The Wen Ying he knew, kind to everyone.
“The unfairness Li Mengjiao faced isn’t for you to fix. She has to grow stronger. Most of us follow rules unless we’re strong enough to ignore or crush them.”
Xie Qian spoke from experience.
Imagining Xie, the academic star, crushing rules and setting his own since childhood, Wen Ying, the struggling student, nearly teared up.
“I get it! Driver, stop at the next intersection!”
The cab driver, amused by the teens’ serious talk, jumped when Wen Ying shouted, nearly swerving.
Xie Qian wanted to ask what she got, but Wen Ying was already out, darting across the street.
She was one intersection from home, cautious to avoid her mother, Chen Ru, seeing her with Xie Qian.
Xie Qian had the driver follow until Wen Ying entered her apartment complex, then gave a new address.
Wen Ying rushed home. Before Chen Ru could scold her for being late, she blurted out her “lottery win.”
“You ate KFC and won a laptop?” Chen Ru laughed, exasperated.
It was a new scam: a call claiming you’d won a prize, but you had to send a “tax fee” of about 2,000 yuan first.
Two thousand was significant, but compared to a laptop, it seemed minor.
Victims wired money through banks. Chen Ru, a bank employee, knew this scam well. Staff tried to dissuade feverish customers, but some wouldn’t listen.
Don’t trust freebies, don’t be greedy, and you won’t be fooled.
Now scammers targeted kids. Chen Ru explained the scam thoroughly. Wen Ying looked innocent. “But the mall didn’t ask for money. They just said to pick up the prize tomorrow.”
Chen Ru decided, “Fine, I’ll go with you. Let’s see their tricks!”
Scamming students? Chen Ru wanted to tear down the mall’s sign.
Wen Ying washed up, returned to her room, and pulled out the “New Concept Essay Contest” form tucked in her book. Tonight, she felt an urge to write down her inspiration.
So she wrote.
Li Mengjiao had her dreams.
Wen Ying had hers.
