Lin Lin’s suggestion was deeply considerate of Zou Weijun, and Xie Qian’s expression showed a hint of something unusual.
He recalled Wen Ying’s “writer’s dream.”
The change in his mother had started after meeting Wen Ying. If she really went to work at the publishing group, it would feel like fate at work.
“Xie Qian?” Lin Lin prompted, anxious. Agree or disagree, just say something—how could he zone out right in front of her?
“As long as my mom agrees, I’m fine with it,” Xie Qian said, feeling both pleased and curious.
He was pleased that Zou Weijun was willing to work again, and curious about what Wen Ying had said to her.
Lin Lin eagerly began planning Zou Weijun’s career, counting off options on her fingers. Beyond book publishing, the group managed over ten newspapers and journals, and its headquarters had more than a dozen departments, offering Zou Weijun plenty of choices: “There’s the office, editorial and publishing department, industrial development department, textbook development center, press and periodical center… Which do you think suits Auntie best?”
Xie Qian thought the editorial and publishing department was best, followed by the press and periodical center. The least suitable were roles like audit supervisor or IT center positions.
He didn’t expect Zou Weijun to earn much—her shares and investments already brought in substantial annual income, and they lived comfortably in Rongcheng. What mattered was whether Zou Weijun could find fulfillment in her work. The editorial and publishing department or press and periodical center suited her interests, and with her background, she’d likely excel there.
Whether Xie Qian’s preference for the editorial department had ulterior motives, he didn’t say, and Lin Lin couldn’t guess even if she racked her brain.
“The editorial and publishing department sounds good. I’ll go tell Auntie!” Lin Lin said, bounding upstairs.
Xie Qian pulled out his phone to reply to Wen Ying: “Be careful tomorrow. Don’t let your parents spot you. I’ve got something to do, so I won’t join you in tailing them.”
He planned to visit Jiang Xuekun.
With Zou Weijun mustering the courage to work, Xie Qian couldn’t rely entirely on Wen Ying and his cousin Lin Lin. Jiang Xuekun’s influence could easily secure Zou Weijun a job at the publishing group. While Jiang would happily help for the Xie family’s sake, Xie Qian preferred to frame it as “family ties” rather than obligation, so he intended to thank Jiang personally.
…
Wen Ying stared at her phone, dumbfounded.
When had she ever said Xie Qian should join her in tracking?
With his striking looks, he’d only draw attention and get her caught.
Before she could reply, Xie Qian sent another message: “Thanks for helping with my mom.”
Wen Ying blinked. Thanks for what?
She’d never admit to anything.
She sent a question mark; Xie Qian replied with an ellipsis.
The outdated messaging system limited her flair—she’d have dragged Xie Qian into an emoji battle otherwise.
Planning to tail her parents, Wen Ying slept early. The next morning, just past seven, Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong were already preparing to leave. They left so early that Wen Dongrong didn’t buy breakfast. Yesterday, Chen Ru had given Wen Ying fifty yuan; today, Wen Dongrong handed her money. It seemed the couple would be out all day again, leaving Wen Ying to handle her meals.
After a night’s rest, they looked more spirited, but their expressions were far from happy.
They resisted what they were about to do but felt compelled by some reason, their “suffering” almost written on their faces.
Wen Ying secretly followed.
Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong boarded a bus.
Wen Ying hailed a taxi. “Driver, follow that bus. Stop when I tell you.”
With enough money, the driver could tail a bus or even crawl slower than a bicycle.
Wen Ying followed them off the bus and up a building.
The area was full of tutoring and training centers—for study abroad, postgraduate exams, and high school entrance prep.
Hiding behind a pillar, Wen Ying had a hunch about why Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong were here.
At the tutoring class entrance, Old Wen’s usual swagger turned heavy. Chen Ru teased, “Big boss, giving up on day two?”
Wen Dongrong chuckled, “I haven’t forgotten my basics. I’m here to accompany you. Don’t miss my good intentions!”
Chen Ru rolled her eyes. Pure nonsense!
Basics not forgotten? Yesterday, during the teacher’s baseline test, Wen Dongrong’s paper was mostly blank. He only scribbled a few answers when time was up.
Wen Ying was sixteen, and both she and Wen Dongrong had worked nearly twenty years. Their jobs rarely required English, so Chen Ru had forgotten her basics, and Wen Dongrong wasn’t much better.
If he didn’t know, fine—she wouldn’t mock him. But he insisted on pretending.
“Alright, you haven’t forgotten. We paid the same fees and enrolled together. Let’s see who learns better!” Chen Ru challenged.
Bring it on. Wen Dongrong didn’t think he’d lose to his wife. He was the head of the household, the smartest one.
Tossing his large bag to Chen Ru, he tucked his briefcase under his arm and strode into the classroom with a leader’s air.
In class, he held his chin high, drawing the teacher’s attention to call on him repeatedly.
Unsure of his answers, he sweated under the gaze of classmates, eventually hiding his briefcase in a drawer and lowering his chin.
Chen Ru snorted: Serves him right!
Wen Ying peeked through the window, stifling a laugh.
The classroom was filled with adults like Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong, starting from scratch. The couple was older but not the oldest.
All were mid-career, stuck in middling positions, with elderly parents and young kids. Unwilling to be outdone by younger colleagues, they gritted their teeth to earn certifications or degrees, hoping to prove their worth.
Wen Ying’s laughter turned to a pang of sadness.
In the classroom, Chen Ru wrestled with phonetics, while Wen Dongrong went from swagger to attentive listening.
Wen Ying saw again that her formidable parents were just ordinary people, with ordinary flaws and virtues.
They cared deeply about face, sneaking to this tutoring class in secret.
Wen Ying quietly left, preserving their dignity.
Instead of going home, she went to a mall and picked out two reasonably priced cassette players.
