“Boss, look!”
With “Shrimp King” bustling, manager Yang Xi was run off her feet, yet she still had eyes and ears everywhere—truly a natural talent.
Wen Ying followed Yang Xi’s pointing finger and spotted two familiar figures across the street.
Skulking like thieves, it was unmistakably her parents’ style.
No need for that.
If they wanted to check on her business, they could’ve come openly. Tonight, even Aunt Chen Li brought her whole family to show support, and other shareholders’ families had representatives too. Wang Jun, with his round belly, stood at the door handing out cigarettes to male customers, urging them to patronise “Shrimp King” more. Uninformed onlookers might’ve mistaken Wang Jun for the boss!
Not only were Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao’s parents there, but Zou Weijun’s presence surprised Wen Ying.
Zou Weijun wasn’t fond of crowded places but personally delivered an opening flower basket.
“Business is booming,” she remarked.
Wen Ying and her crew were busy helping out. Zou Weijun stood at the entrance, chuckling as she saw Wang Shuang snatch a tray from Xie Qian’s hands.
Everyone was so protective of Xie Qian—how nice.
Wen Ying, sweating profusely, said, “Aunt Zou, want to grab a seat?”
Zou Weijun shook her head, “Don’t mind me, tend to your customers. I’ll head back soon.”
Wen Ying asked her to wait a moment, darted to the kitchen, and returned with two takeout bags, handing one to Zou Weijun.
“This one’s not spicy. Take it home, try it, and let me know what you think.”
Zou Weijun, middle-aged yet slender, owed her figure to good genes and disciplined eating habits. She rarely ate late-night snacks.
But this takeout from Wen Ying, she wanted to taste.
It wasn’t just a snack—it was the flavour of Xie Qian and his friends’ first entrepreneurial venture.
“I’ll savour it carefully,” Zou Weijun said.
Wen Ying carried the other bag across the street, catching her sneaky parents red-handed.
Wen Dongrong, hands behind his back, coughed and lied blatantly, “Your mum said dinner wasn’t enough, so I brought her out for a snack.”
Chen Ru tried to pinch Wen Dongrong discreetly.
If you can’t talk, shut up!
Wen Ying stifled a laugh, playing along earnestly, “I figured as much. The shop’s too packed for you to get a seat, so I packed you some takeout to bring home.”
Chen Ru stared at the sky, her face taut with embarrassment, practically digging a three-bedroom flat with her toes. Wen Dongrong, thicker-skinned, calmly accepted the takeout.
Back home by taxi, the dry-pot shrimp was still steaming. Wen Dongrong cracked open a beer. Chen Ru couldn’t resist trying some with chopsticks, then complained it was too spicy. Wen Dongrong, alternating sips of beer and bites of shrimp, nodded, “What do you know? Late-night snacks need bold flavours.”
Chen Ru didn’t argue. After eating and drinking, they still had to tackle their English vocabulary!
While the couple grappled with English, Night Market Street’s “Shrimp King” remained abuzz with customers.
Other night market stall owners craned their necks to gawk.
Some diners, not originally heading for “Shrimp King,” saw the crowd and switched plans, queuing outside.
“Shrimp King’s” popularity left nearby stalls looking deserted.
The other owners felt a pang of envy.
Big Liu, the barbecue stall owner who paid to franchise “Shrimp King,” had been mocked as a fool with too much money. They’d all been in catering for years—surely they could replicate a lobster dish with a bit of trial and error, no need for franchise fees.
Big Liu’s franchise even opened before the flagship store, giving up Night Market Street’s prime spot to the flagship. To other owners, that was just dumb!
Was Big Liu dumb?
Big Liu wouldn’t sleep tonight—he’d be too busy counting money.
One owner muttered sourly, “This is Big Liu’s luck coming in, unstoppable.”
“Shrimp King” hadn’t been crushed by Shu’s Seafood Stall’s boss, who’d landed himself in jail. The Night Market Street owners, however envious, had no plans to follow Shu Guobing’s path.
Unable to stop “Shrimp King’s” rise, could they make money alongside it?
Franchise fees, rent, and renovations added up to a hefty sum—profitable businesses always had barriers. None of the owners voiced their thoughts; revealing interest risked someone else jumping in first.
Late into the night, Wen Ying saw off wave after wave of customers at the door.
Deng Shangwei went to settle the bill while Chen Li, her son, and Deng Yaomei waited outside. Deng Yaomei’s lips burned from the spice, gasping for cool air, “Wen Ying, you’re amazing!”
Deng Yaomei had watched Wen Ying build the business step by step, starting with test-cooking lobsters in Chen Li’s kitchen.
In just half a year, Wen Ying had gone from a temporary stall to this thriving store.
On this winter night, Deng Yaomei’s mouth was swollen from spice, her heart ablaze.
Wen Ying’s success must be tied to her studies, right?
Wen Ying treated her as a friend, always pushing her to study.
Deng Yaomei glanced around at Wen Ying’s new friends—provincial key school students, all exceptional, far beyond her league. But as long as Wen Ying saw her as a friend, she couldn’t give up on improving herself.
“I’ve been studying every day,” Deng Yaomei said, proving she hadn’t slacked, “Not just me—Sister Chen’s studying too. She bought a pile of books for Brother Deng.”
Chen Li and Deng Shangwei hadn’t gone to university.
They married young and came to Rongcheng to run a small business.
Back then, survival pressures left no room for anything else. As a mother, when her kids reached school age, Chen Li began regretting her lack of effort. Returning to the workforce alongside Deng Shangwei, her lack of confidence grew stark.
Learning that Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong had joined an English class to further their studies, Chen Li realised what she lacked.
If her sister Chen Ru could swallow her pride and start learning English from scratch, why couldn’t she?
Chen Li wanted to study and dragged Deng Shangwei along. With his company shut down, he had free time. The couple aimed to learn management.
Chen Li was amazed to find that when she and Deng Shangwei sat down to read, even their mischievous son Deng Jie was influenced. His first task after school was homework, not cartoons.
Parents are a child’s best role model.
How true that was!
Spending big on a house to live among successful people or paying high fees for a top primary school wasn’t useless, but kids might not grasp their parents’ efforts. Nothing impacted a child more than parents leading by example.
Hearing Deng Yaomei, Wen Ying was happier than if she’d earned a million.
“Deng Jie’s that well-behaved now?”
“Super good! Deng Hao too—practises calligraphy, does math, then watches TV.”
The Dengs’ TV used to be on from the moment the brothers got home until bedtime, when Deng Yaomei would take the remote for dramas.
TV was too captivating, hooking Deng Jie, Deng Hao, and Deng Yaomei, who spent hours in front of it daily.
Now, the Dengs’ TV was barely on. They watched the evening news together, let the boys see one cartoon episode, then turned it off.
Deng Yaomei lost interest in dramas, and Chen Li had no time for TV.
If they had a free evening, they’d read with Deng Jie and Deng Hao. In just over two months, Deng Jie’s grades improved dramatically. At the parent-teacher meeting, his teacher praised Chen Li’s involvement, noting Deng Jie’s recent positivity at school—his outgoing nature shifting from mischievousness to confidence and self-expression.
Just swapping TV time for family reading made such a difference. Chen Li was shocked and thrilled.
Best of all, Deng Jie and Deng Hao didn’t feel forced—they enjoyed learning with their parents.
Deng Yaomei spoke quickly, and Chen Li grew shy, “Alright, why’re you telling Wen Ying this? I just read a few books while helping Jie with homework. You make it sound like I did something grand.”
Wen Ying laughed.
“Auntie, it is a big deal. You and Uncle have done so much for my cousins—why not talk about it?”
Deng Jie and Deng Hao wouldn’t end up like in their past lives.
With Auntie and Uncle staying married, a harmonious home would let Deng Jie and Deng Hao grow up healthy. This family-wide progress was even better than before Uncle’s cheating crisis!
Deng Shangwei finished paying and passed by Wen Ying, glancing at the shop.
Qin Jiao, on a rare break from school, was in the shop, treating the work as a break from her intense senior year.
Deng Shangwei quietly asked Wen Ying, “Boss Qin wants to send Qin Jiao to Shanghai for an exchange week. Want to go?”
“Exchange week?”
“It’s with a Shanghai university. Your school will announce it soon. It’s half a month. Sign up if you’re interested.”
Wen Ying sensed something unusual.
It was normal for the provincial key school to hold exchange weeks with top universities— they’d even done semester-long exchanges with foreign ones.
But Deng Shangwei knowing before her? That was odd.
Qin Jiao hadn’t mentioned a word today.
Only one explanation: Qin Jiao didn’t know yet!
Wen Ying’s eyes locked on Deng Shangwei, who nodded slightly.
“It’s what you’re thinking.”
Chen Li started the car, asking why Deng Shangwei wasn’t getting in. He waved and left. Wen Ying’s heart raced: Qin Xianming was finally closing the net, sending Qin Jiao to Shanghai’s exchange week to protect her.
It seemed Yu Wenhao and his son were about to cause a big stir.
Wen Ying didn’t want to join the exchange week but couldn’t stop thinking about it. Xie Qian, seeing her standing in the cold at the door, approached, “You look distracted. What’s up?”
“Nothing. My uncle just asked if I wanted to join Shanghai’s exchange week.”
Out of the blue, go to Shanghai?
Xie Qian sensed something was afoot, his eyes questioning. Wen Ying suddenly remembered her submission to the New Concept Essay Contest.
By now, the shortlist for the finals should be out.
If she made the finals, she’d have to go to Shanghai.
—What a coincidence!
