“What’s wrong? Is there an issue with the transfer agreement?”
Wen Ying hadn’t spoken for a while, and Xie Qian couldn’t help but ask.
She shook her head, “It looks fine to me. Maybe I’m just not skilled enough to spot anything.”
No issues was the biggest issue.
Xie Jinghu was a total scumbag in Wen Ying’s eyes, yet he genuinely transferred 2% of the shares to Xie Qian. That didn’t add up!
The only explanation Wen Ying could think of was that Xie Qian’s uncle held the reins in the Xie family. As long as Xie Yuping hadn’t lost power or retired, Xie Jinghu wouldn’t dare deceive him.
Wen Ying had previously wished for Xie Qian to live a long, healthy life. Now she wanted to add another wish: not only should Xie Qian live to a hundred, but Xie Yuping too!
At least until she or Xie Qian could fend off their tragic fates, Xie Yuping was their strongest shield.
“Uncle Xie is really good to you.”
The Uncle Xie in Wen Ying’s mouth clearly wasn’t Xie Jinghu.
Xie Qian’s expression softened, “Yeah, Uncle has always doted on me.”
It wasn’t just Xie Yuping. The entire Xie family, including Grandma Xie, treated Xie Qian well. Grandma Xie always worried the Zou family might sway Xie Qian away from the Xies. But if Xie Qian were that kind of person, he wouldn’t care about Grandma Xie’s feelings and would’ve pushed for Zou Weijun to divorce Xie Jinghu long ago.
In truth, the Xie family hadn’t wronged Xie Qian or Zou Weijun. Xie Jinghu was the one who messed up, and the rest of the family was willing to make up for his mistakes.
Their approach wasn’t wrong, just different from what Xie Qian wanted.
A marriage is like a mirror—once cracked, no repair restores its original shine.
Xie Jinghu’s cheating wasn’t a fleeting lapse. With two illegitimate children, the mirror wasn’t just cracked—it was shattered in two.
Since the share transfer agreement was fine and Aunt Liu hadn’t called for lunch, Xie Qian gave Wen Ying a brief rundown of the Xie family.
Grandma Xie had four sons, all “dragons among men” by worldly standards, successful in their fields.
In Xie Qian’s generation, the eldest was Xie Yuping’s daughter, Xie Qian’s cousin, still in college and undecided on her career.
Xie Qian had a cousin from his second uncle, who entered military academy last year.
Xie Qian was in high school, and his fourth uncle had a daughter in her first year of junior high, too young to predict her future.
Due to strict family planning, except for Xie Jinghu, each Xie sibling had one child, boy or girl, all raised with care.
The older generation thrived, with strict upbringing, so Xie Qian’s peers were all impressive.
Among them, Xie Qian’s early brilliance earned extra affection from Xie Yuping and Grandma Xie.
The Xie family lacked neither grandsons nor granddaughters. Xie Jinghu’s out-of-wedlock son and daughter had no bond with the family. If Zou Weijun and Xie Qian accepted them, the Xies might turn a blind eye. In the current situation, the family would never acknowledge those illegitimate children.
Wen Ying murmured, “People pity the weak. The whole Xie family shuns them, so your dad leans toward them.”
It was a tough knot to untie.
From Xie Jinghu’s perspective, he couldn’t unmake his children. Xie Qian was his legitimate son, but the other two were his too. Xie Qian grew up showered with love, while the others, unacknowledged by the Xies, might’ve faced hardships for lacking a “father.” Xie Jinghu’s fatherly love, split three ways, gave two shares to the outsiders.
How could Xie Qian compete, one against two?
Wen Ying was just analyzing, not sympathizing with Xie Scumbag. This mess was his fault for not controlling himself. No matter how scheming the other woman was, it took Xie Jinghu’s cooperation to make kids. She couldn’t do it alone.
Xie Qian understood Wen Ying’s analysis.
The more he opposed Xie Jinghu, the more his father’s heart would tilt.
Now like strangers, they might become like fire and water, enemies in the future!
Xie Qian knew the logic.
But groveling to Xie Jinghu? Never!
As the saying goes, better a beggar mother than a magistrate father. If Zou Weijun decided to divorce Xie Jinghu, even penniless, Xie Qian would choose her—that was his old thinking. Influenced by Wen Ying, he now felt differently. He didn’t care for Xie Jinghu’s wealth, but it was marital property. Why let the mistress and her kids have it?
If others benefited, Xie Qian wouldn’t.
He’d rather keep the benefit and leave others wanting!
Xie Qian hinted at this, and Wen Ying wanted to give him a hundred likes, “That’s the spirit! It’s a strength—keep it up!”
Always yielding, putting others first, could breed mental health issues.
A bit of selfishness and defiance made life freer.
Depression and such ailments often targeted those who bottled up grievances.
Wen Ying even urged Xie Qian to stir up more trouble. Crying kids get milk. If the mistress and her kids made a move, Xie Qian should make a fuss. One fuss got 2% shares; a few more, and he’d soon have a real say in Jinhu Group.
Xie Qian was amused by Wen Ying.
They chatted in the study until Aunt Liu called them for lunch.
Wen Ying wanted to leave after eating, but Xie Qian asked her to stay, “My mom should be back soon.”
Xie Qian ensured Wen Ying wouldn’t feel bored. With intent, practice papers and workbooks were never in short supply.
Wen Ying couldn’t resist one-on-one tutoring from a top student. Doing papers at Xie Qian’s was better than alone at home—she could ask him questions immediately.
Past three in the afternoon, Zou Weijun returned.
Prepared, she acted as if she didn’t know Wen Ying, politely inviting her to visit often.
Xie Qian watched their performance without exposing it.
“Aunt Zou, you’re too kind. If you’re busy, no need to entertain me.”
Zou Weijun smiled, “It’s just trivial tasks. My presence doesn’t change much.”
Wen Ying was curious about Zou Weijun’s work, eager for details, even the mundane.
With Wen Ying’s prompting, Zou Weijun opened up.
Still a junior in the editorial department, her tasks were mostly legwork, but she took them seriously. Her mind was filled with Wen Ying’s “nightmare” and Xie Qian’s desire for a role model. She wanted to achieve something.
Today’s book sample error didn’t require her at the factory, but she went anyway to handle it.
Who’d imagine the third Mrs. Xie arguing in an inky workshop, clashing with the factory head, then sitting down to negotiate a fix? By Monday, Zou Weijun needed the corrected samples.
