A young, graceful figure.
A blend of innocence and subtle allure, like the first budding lotus revealing its delicate tip—understated femininity.
Wen Ying’s eyes widened, and she shot to her feet.
It was her. It had to be her!
Wen Ying was certain in her heart.
Though she’d never met this woman in her past life, the instant she saw her, Wen Ying knew her identity. Since her rebirth, Wen Ying had been mulling over this matter. With the perspective of an adult, she’d observed Deng Shangwei closely. No matter how she looked at it, he seemed like a responsible man—devoted to his wife and family.
For a man like that to claim in her past life that he’d been set up after making a mistake, Wen Ying was inclined to believe him. But as the saying goes, you can’t force a cow to drink if it won’t lower its head. Even if someone had orchestrated Deng Shangwei’s misstep, there had to be an initial spark for such an affair to ignite.
The moment she laid eyes on this young woman, Wen Ying had an epiphany.
This woman’s appearance was that spark.
She was young—barely in her early twenties—not strikingly gorgeous, but fresh and vibrant.
More importantly, her brows and eyes bore a faint resemblance to her aunt, Chen Li.
Wen Ying had thought the tired trope of a “substitute” was confined to novels. She’d been naive—fiction really did stem from reality. This had to be her—the “vixen” Chen Ru had mentioned in her past life, the woman who’d driven a wedge between Chen Li and Deng Shangwei, wrecking their marriage.
Wen Ying clenched her fists, teeth gritted, eyes blazing with fury.
She genuinely wanted to save her aunt and uncle’s marriage, but seeing Deng Shangwei’s mistress waltz into the company so brazenly still infuriated her!
Why couldn’t men control that little piece of flesh below their belts?
If they truly felt a monogamous marriage went against their nature, then they shouldn’t marry. They could have as many girlfriends as they wanted without hurting a wife!
At sixteen, Wen Ying would’ve charged over and lashed out, unable to swallow her anger. But at thirty-one, she took several deep breaths, forcibly tamping down the fire within.
In her early days struggling in Shanghai, she’d suffered plenty of setbacks. Each stumble taught her something, and she’d grown.
Her three years with He Zhen had influenced her too. Though she didn’t always agree with him, He Zhen’s elite upbringing—thanks to his family background—had honed his finesse in handling people and situations. Wen Ying had to admit he was more polished than her, and the tactics he’d taught her had indeed boosted her career.
What would He Zhen do?
He wouldn’t startle the snake by striking the grass. He wouldn’t rush over and slap the vixen twice to vent.
For her, a couple of slaps would be nothing—she might even play the frail victim, stirring Deng Shangwei’s pity.
He Zhen would keep everything under control, pinpoint her weakness, then flip the table with a decisive blow!
Wen Ying took a deep breath, calming her racing pulse. She turned to Sister Fang with a cheerful smile. “Sister Fang, is that a client at the company entrance?”
Sister Fang followed Wen Ying’s gaze. A young woman with a blue umbrella lingered outside the door.
The seafood company sat near the Qingshi Bridge seafood wholesale market, originally a warehouse with a spacious yard. Deng Shangwei had chosen this spot deliberately—its open space made it easy for vehicles to come and go.
The large warehouse wasn’t exclusive to Deng Shangwei’s company; the yard was shared among several businesses.
Sister Fang, a seasoned employee, had sharp eyes. After sizing the woman up from head to toe, she shook her head. “Probably here to find someone, not a client.”
Too young to be a boss—no sign of financial clout.
Too casually dressed to be a sales rep—no hint of their crisp efficiency.
Sister Fang broke it down for Wen Ying, teaching her how to read people.
Wen Ying already knew the woman wasn’t a client. Sister Fang’s frank gaze showed no trace of covering for Deng Shangwei. To double-check, Wen Ying asked, “Sister Fang, you’ve never seen her before?”
Sister Fang was confident. “Nope. If she were a client, I’d recognize her!”
“Sister Fang, you’re amazing!”
Wen Ying’s eyes darted as an idea formed. “It’s so hot out, and she’s just standing there. I’ll go ask who she’s looking for. What if she’s here for business but too shy to come in?”
Sister Fang laughed. “You little clever thing, go ahead. A good deed a day brings blessings.”
She understood Wen Ying’s mindset.
A young girl working a summer job, eager and quick to learn, clearly wasn’t here to coast. She wanted to prove herself to her family.
But no company would let a kid like her handle clients. To shine, Wen Ying had to find her own opportunities—like spotting new clients.
It wasn’t just Wen Ying; most workplace newbies shared that drive.
Sister Fang didn’t discourage her. She even cheered Wen Ying on to approach the woman who didn’t look like a client. A few hard knocks would teach her how tough earning money really was—Deng Shangwei should thank her for the lesson.
Wen Ying grabbed a cup of water and approached the woman.
“Sister, are you here to find someone? It’s so sunny out—why not wait inside the company?”
Oh, how she wanted to splash that water in the vixen’s face!
Lili wasn’t old, but Wen Ying was younger still—too young to rouse suspicion.
Lili couldn’t figure out who Wen Ying was. She smiled cautiously. “Thanks, but no need. I’ll just wait here a bit.”
Wen Ying didn’t push, handing her the water. “Then have some water, Sister, to wet your throat.”
“…Okay, thanks.”
Lili took the cup, sipped lightly, then held onto it.
She’d come to the company to see Deng Shangwei but stayed outside to force him to come to her. He wouldn’t want her showing up here, let alone escalating things. Today she could visit the company; tomorrow she might show up at his home.
Lili knew where Deng Shangwei lived but wouldn’t go there directly.
No man liked an aggressive woman. She was pressuring him to appear, but with restraint.
Since someone from the company had brought her water, it meant others had noticed her. The heat was just right today—two or three more visits, and Deng Shangwei would seek her out for a “talk” himself.
Lili decided to call it a day and returned the cup to Wen Ying.
“Thanks for the water, little sister. I’ll head off now.”
As she turned to leave, a chubby hand grabbed her arm. Lili frowned.
What was this girl up to?
Wen Ying smiled shyly. “Sister, I haven’t introduced myself! I’m Wen Ying, here at my uncle’s company for a summer job. My uncle’s surname is Deng—he’s the boss here! You’re at the entrance—do you have business with him? I bet you’re new to this and shy. I’m new too—maybe we can chat and help each other out?”
Wen Ying played the eager newbie, desperate to land her own deal, casting a wide net to catch any potential client.
Lili, caught off guard by her enthusiasm and hearing she was Deng Shangwei’s niece, felt a pang of guilt—like a thief caught in the act.
But looking closer, Wen Ying’s youthful innocence shone through, a total greenhorn. Lili scolded herself: This wasn’t Deng Shangwei’s wife—what was she afraid of?
Her mind stirred. “You’re really Deng’s niece?”
