Xie Qian was deceiving Zou Weijun.
Most kids do see their parents as role models, often repeating their paths as adults.
But Xie Qian was more mature than his peers. He despised Xie Jinghu’s betrayal of marriage and family, a failure as both husband and father. How could Xie Qian become the kind of person he loathed?
Xie Jinghu was cold and heartless, Zou Weijun overly soft and sentimental. Xie Qian pitied his mother but had no desire to become another Zou Weijun.
Zou Weijun’s hand trembled, unable to pick up the scissors despite several tries.
Xie Qian recalled Wen Ying’s advice: acting cute with her mom worked better than confrontation.
Xie Qian had never tried that.
He suspected being too sensible made his mother focus all her energy on his deadbeat father.
Zou Weijun was indeed stunned by Xie Qian’s words.
Xie Qian had always been exceptional, never a worry, the “perfect kid” others envied. When she was still socially active, Zou Weijun was the envy of other wives.
A good husband was nice, but all the wives had decent ones, or they wouldn’t share the same circle. A handsome husband like Xie Jinghu was rare, but past a certain wealth, looks mattered less.
What the wives envied most was Zou Weijun’s son, Xie Qian!
Now, hearing him say he might go astray, Zou Weijun thought it impossible.
Xie Qian read her expression, knowing her thoughts.
In the past, he’d never have said such things, but since meeting Wen Ying, his skin had thickened.
“Know what I did in Macau?”
Zou Weijun hesitated, “You went with classmates to tour Macau. Xiao Qian, do you want to bring friends home—”
Xie Qian cut her off, “No, I went to a casino!”
With that, he turned and left, ignoring her reaction.
Clatter.
The scissors Zou Weijun had finally grasped fell to the floor.
Xie Qian at a casino?
A minor, how did he get in, why go there?
Zou Weijun’s mind, long dormant, struggled to process this.
Lost in her grief, she’d neglected Xie Qian, while he’d been protecting her.
He dealt with the Xie family on her behalf.
He brought her to Rongcheng to recover.
He went to school, then came home to keep her company.
She did nothing, housework handled by the housekeeper, carers watching her 24/7, her niece Lin Lin visiting often to check on her.
She knew they meant to help, but often she felt time and the world slip by unnoticed.
She’d respond when Lin Lin spoke.
If Lin Lin didn’t visit, she wouldn’t call to check on her.
No energy, no interest.
Zou Weijun covered her face, tears seeping through her fingers.
Xie Jinghu was a poor father, she a poor mother.
Her life a mess, how could she be Xie Qian’s role model?
Xie Qian hadn’t gone far. After stepping downstairs, he crept back, hearing his mother’s muffled sobs outside the door.
Crying wasn’t shameful.
If it could solve her marital woes, Xie Qian would let her cry more.
But her suffering didn’t touch Xie Jinghu’s carefree life. As Xie Yuping said, the Xie family could control Xie Jinghu’s actions, not his thoughts.
If he wanted, he could call overseas daily or find ways to meet that woman.
His heart was no longer with this family. Legally, they were still one, but emotionally, only Zou Weijun clung to their broken bond.
Many women were like her.
Financially independent, but emotionally tethered, mired in painful attachment, unable to move on as Wen Ying suggested, “next one’s better.”
The crying faded. Xie Qian descended slowly, instructing housekeeper Liu to keep a close eye on his mother’s mood, along with the carers.
“Watch her emotions. Oh, I brought you small gifts from Macau.”
Liu thanked him.
Hired by Xie Yuping, she knew the Xie family well.
Who wouldn’t beam with a son like Xie Qian? Yet Ms. Zou stayed unhappy, odd.
If the casino story wasn’t enough, Xie Qian pondered how to play a rebellious teen to worry his mother.
Give up, become a slacker?
Stay up gaming, loitering in arcades?
Or, like Wang Shuang, cycle through girlfriends, a playboy in puppy love… No, the first two only hurt himself, the last was unfair to the girls, passing harm to innocents. How would that differ from Xie Jinghu’s deeds?
Xie Qian considered who around him was most rebellious, hoping they’d guide him. Wang Shuang came out on top.
Descending, he recalled Wen Ying’s confident advice on healing heartbreak, sensing something off. The more he thought, the stranger it seemed—where did this hamster get such experience? Had she dated in middle school?
Xie Qian choked on the thought.
He couldn’t help wondering what kind of boy could charm Wen Ying, growing irritated: no wonder her studies lagged behind her wit elsewhere, she wasn’t focusing!
Why the anger? Obviously, as a friend, he was frustrated at her wasted potential.
His thoughts oddly synced with Chen Ru’s: teenage romances rarely lasted, they were a waste of time!
…
Wen Ying’s nose itched.
She was explaining a pile of gifts to her parents when Xie Qian texted about emotional issues. Not one to meddle, he was likely asking for someone close.
Though he framed it as a girl’s problem, Wen Ying instantly thought of his mother.
Was Xie Qian’s mom leaving that jerk?
Great!
Wen Ying wanted to rush to her, shake her awake.
If she’d divorced that scum sooner, splitting assets, Xie Qian, true to form, would only take his mother’s share. Clear division early, and the mistress and her kids might not target Xie Qian so fiercely, boosting his safety.
Wen Ying’s hands shook typing, “next one’s better,” “career’s better than men,” lessons from two lifetimes.
Chen Ru eyed the gift pile, brow twitching.
“How much did you spend in Macau?”
