Wen Ying didn’t hear about Qin Yi’s breakup until two days later.
Qin Jiao came to her, “My brother and Xu Mei broke up.”
Wen Ying didn’t gloat. On the contrary, she felt a bit of regret. Qin Yi and Xu Mei genuinely liked each other. Their closeness during the talent show had even inspired Wen Ying’s writing.
Liking each other was one thing, but Xu Mei’s entry into the entertainment industry through the talent show had created a major rift with Qin Yi. Without resolving this, their breakup was only a matter of time.
But young people, you know, their relationships are sticky and messy. They might break up today and make up tomorrow. Outsiders were better off staying out of it.
Wen Ying not only followed this herself but advised Qin Jiao to do the same.
To be fair, Qin Yi’s breakup was beneficial to Wen Ying. Qin Yi had finally shifted his focus to the “Shrimp King” franchise. In just two or three days, he’d scouted the area around the university and shortlisted a few spots suitable for opening a franchise.
Qin Yi was the first “Shrimp King” franchisee, while Big Liu, the barbecue shop owner, was the second. Big Liu had already renovated his shop and was preparing to open, while Qin Yi was only just getting started.
Honestly, whether Qin Yi’s franchise opened or not didn’t matter to Wen Ying. Per the contract, any delay was on Qin Yi, and there was no way Wen Ying would refund the 50,000 yuan franchise fee!
Wen Ying urged Qin Jiao not to meddle in Qin Yi’s love life. Qin Jiao nodded, “I know. But you and Mengjiao kept this from me.”
If Qin Yi and Xu Mei hadn’t broken up, Li Mengjiao wouldn’t have told Qin Jiao. Wen Ying thought Li Mengjiao did the right thing, “What’s the point of telling you? You’re not Qin Yi. You can’t make choices for him. It’d only stress you out.”
Since the semester started, Qin Jiao had been a senior in high school.
Senior students at a provincial key school lived at a completely different pace from freshmen and sophomores. The Macau trip was likely Qin Jiao’s last out-of-town adventure before graduation.
Big or small, everyone made a conscious effort not to bother Qin Jiao.
Though her grades were already excellent, as long as she wasn’t planning to study abroad, boosting her scores before the college entrance exam couldn’t hurt. Whether she’d get into university wasn’t Qin Jiao’s concern—her goal was to have the freedom to choose her dream school.
A slacker’s worry was whether they’d get into university or their preferred major. A top student’s dilemma was choosing between so many elite institutions!
Wen Ying envied top students. She felt her gap with Qin Jiao and Xie Qian wasn’t just a fluctuating IQ but a difference in mindset. They were purer in focus.
With too many things on her mind, she couldn’t devote 100% to studying, making it hard to close the gap with Qin Jiao and Xie Qian. This wouldn’t do. Wen Ying was anxious. She didn’t care about class rankings or praise, but if she lagged too far behind Xie Qian, she couldn’t keep protecting him. Surely Xie Qian shouldn’t have to settle for a lesser university just to accommodate her?
Even at a provincial key school, not everyone could get into top-tier universities. Wen Ying didn’t care about other students—she only knew Xie Qian would, and should, go to one!
Her rebirth was about living without regrets, not creating regrets for Xie Qian or making his life worse than in her past life.
With this mindset, Wen Ying’s attitude toward studying was so diligent that even Xie Qian couldn’t find fault.
She stopped mentioning buying gifts to apologise to anyone, but Xie Qian didn’t think she’d forgotten.
This week wasn’t easy for Xie Qian. He’d changed his habit of doting on his mother, Zou Weijun, with constant care and concern. Living under the same roof, Xie Qian left for school before Zou Weijun woke up and returned home after evening study, only when she was asleep.
Even if there was nothing to do, he dawdled, reluctant to go home early.
For a whole week, Zou Weijun hadn’t spoken to Xie Qian, and their mother-son relationship hit rock bottom.
Xie Qian wanted to test if, by stopping being the “good son,” he could get Zou Weijun’s attention.
Her focusing on him was better than on Xie Jinghu.
Xie Qian had researched extensively, including the latest foreign studies, and understood what depression was. It wasn’t just “feeling bad” that could be explained away in a few words. In China, depression wasn’t taken seriously yet. Xie Qian knew this was a long, drawn-out battle.
Family members had to support treatment, and the patient needed to actively help themselves.
Patients often had suicidal thoughts.
Depression patients weren’t afraid of death; severe cases saw it as liberation.
If they could feel life was more meaningful, increasing their attachment to the world, that would help.
Xie Qian used himself as a bargaining chip, betting he held weight in Zou Weijun’s heart.
While Wen Ying’s study attitude was impeccable, she never expected Xie Qian to hand in blank papers for Friday’s pop quiz.
She watched him sit through the class, not writing a single answer.
After class, she asked what was wrong, but Xie Qian just shook his head, offering no explanation.
At first, the teacher thought Xie Qian was unwell and showed concern. But in the afternoon chemistry quiz, Xie Qian still didn’t write a word.
Wen Ying was genuinely shocked.
Xie Qian was a top student, a test-taking machine, a living workbook, a test paper turned human. With such a brilliant mind and the most diligent attitude, how could he submit blank papers?
Not even writing his name, just sitting through two quizzes.
Xie Qian didn’t even care about doing the papers. Wen Ying wondered if he was sick.
Before she could ask why, the chemistry teacher called Xie Qian out of the classroom. She didn’t know what they said in the hallway, but the teacher got upset, raising their voice so the whole class could hear, “Xie Qian, don’t get cocky just because you’re a top student. Keep this up, and I’ll call your parents to school!”
That was exactly what Xie Qian wanted!
How do you let parents know their kid’s gone astray?
The simplest, bluntest way was through the teacher.
Xie Qian had been in a cold war with Zou Weijun for a week, figuring the timing was about right. Today, he deliberately submitted two blank papers to provoke the teacher into calling his parent.
For Zou Weijun’s condition, Xie Qian could only apologise to the chemistry teacher in his heart.
His cold, unyielding demeanor was divine in the eyes of some girls. No matter how outrageous his actions, they’d forgive him.
The chemistry teacher, not swayed by looks, valued Xie Qian and wanted to correct his attitude. Seeing him silent, the teacher couldn’t understand why his temperament had changed so suddenly.
Top of the grade—what could he be unhappy about?
At school, teachers and classmates adored him. The issue had to be at home.
Out of concern, the chemistry teacher resolved to call his parent.
Xie Qian was cooperative, giving Zou Weijun’s private number when asked. It was the new number she’d gotten in Rongcheng; her old one was abandoned. She might not answer, but Xie Qian had instructed the housekeeper, Aunt Liu, to ensure Zou Weijun personally took school calls.
The chemistry teacher took Xie Qian to the office, excusing him from classes, as his current “anti-learning” attitude made attending pointless.
In the office, the teacher tried to talk to Xie Qian, but his lips were sealed like a clam.
To make matters worse, Lin Lin, Xie Qian’s homeroom teacher, was away at an education bureau meeting with other teachers.
Xie Qian had chosen this day on purpose.
The chemistry teacher tried for ages, but Xie Qian wouldn’t budge. Left with no choice, they called his parent. Wen Ying didn’t know what was said, but before evening study, Zou Weijun arrived at school.
Wen Ying texted Xie Qian, but he hadn’t brought his phone. She waved at him through the office window; he ignored her. Anxious, Wen Ying clung to the window, eavesdropping.
The woman in the office was Xie Qian’s mother. Wen Ying heard her introduce herself to the chemistry teacher as Ms. Zou.
Zou Weijun wasn’t strikingly beautiful. Compared to average women, she was attractive, but it was hard to imagine her alone producing a son as stunning as Xie Qian.
They didn’t look very alike either.
Xie Qian must take after his father.
Wen Ying recalled a saying that in a marriage, the dominant partner’s genes were stronger, so the child resembled them. To think of such nonsense now—Xie Qian’s dad might be good-looking, but he was still a deadbeat!
Xie Qian had noticed Wen Ying.
Her head bobbing outside the window was very hamster-like.
He looked away.
He couldn’t tell Wen Ying about this beforehand. He didn’t know how she’d judge it. If this didn’t help his mother’s condition—or worse, worsened it—Xie Qian wanted to be the one to decide and bear the consequences. Wen Ying didn’t need to be involved.
Zou Weijun was impeccably made-up, exuding elegance and dignity.
The chemistry teacher’s tone wasn’t harsh, aiming to discuss Xie Qian’s sudden aversion to studying and find the cause.
This was the treatment only a top student’s parent would get.
No one knew how nervous Zou Weijun was.
From the moment she got the call, she was at a loss. Her social skills seemed to have atrophied; it had been ages since she’d dealt with outsiders.
Her first instinct was to refuse going to the school.
She wanted the housekeeper to handle it, but Aunt Liu declined, saying someone like her would embarrass Xie Qian.
Zou Weijun then tried to contact Lin Lin, Xie Qian’s homeroom teacher, which she knew.
But Lin Lin’s phone was off, unreachable!
In the end, Zou Weijun had to go herself.
Two caregivers accompanied her as “assistants,” but she entered the teacher’s office alone.
When the chemistry teacher asked why Xie Qian was disengaging from studies, Zou Weijun opened her mouth but couldn’t answer.
She knew the reason but couldn’t say it.
Her palms were sweaty with nerves.
Instinctively, she looked to Xie Qian for help. He turned his head, leaving her with his cold profile—a profile too much like Xie Jinghu’s!
