Given more time, Yao Xiaojia could have haggled further with the landlords.
But missing the New Concept Essay Competition award ceremony for a few thousand yuan wasn’t worth it to Wen Ying.
“That’s fine,” Wen Ying said, standing up. “I’ll take all three. Let me see the contracts, and how do I pay the deposits? You accept card payments here, right?”
The agency fee would be paid at the transfer, as the transaction wasn’t complete until then, and the agency’s service wasn’t finished.
If this was an act, Wen Ying carrying it this far risked a beating if exposed. Yao Xiaojia’s heart raced, “We can take card payments, Miss Wen. Please wait a moment.”
In January 2005, POS machines for card payments weren’t widespread, but this was Shanghai—always a testing ground for new things in China. The agency Wen Ying chose was large, and property deals involved big sums, so a POS machine was convenient to prevent deals from falling through.
Without one, clients would need to withdraw cash during bank hours. If they couldn’t get the money in time, they might cool off and change their minds.
Yao Xiaojia needed to check with the manager about the deposit amounts.
She also wanted to discuss the agency fee with the manager. Even veteran agents rarely met clients as generous as Wen Ying, who went from viewing to deciding on three properties in just half a day!
Half a day, three houses!
Some clients agonized over one house for a month, with agents climbing stairs until their legs were worn thin. If every client was as decisive as Wen Ying, agents would wake up laughing from their dreams.
Yao Xiaojia’s colleagues finally snapped out of it.
So this young girl was really buying houses?
The colleagues who had teased Yao Xiaojia turned green and purple with envy, unable to believe her luck.
Yao Xiaojia, who hadn’t closed a deal and was at risk of being sacked, pulling off an act like this?
Three houses meant hefty deposits.
If Yao Xiaojia knew such a big spender, why would she worry about closing deals?
Whether her colleagues believed it or not, once Yao Xiaojia prepared the contracts and Wen Ying confirmed they were correct, she promptly paid the deposits for all three houses by card.
Five thousand yuan per house, fifteen thousand for three.
Shanghai’s property market was heating up. Well-located, defect-free second-hand houses like these weren’t hard to sell. If Wen Ying didn’t buy, the agency could find other buyers. A five-thousand-yuan deposit per house wasn’t unreasonable.
Wen Ying swiped the card without hesitation.
Too bad it wasn’t her card or her houses, or she’d have been even happier!
With the deposits paid and contracts signed, the three houses were locked in. The deal was essentially secure—getting the fifteen thousand yuan deposit back would be tough.
Who would’ve thought Yao Xiaojia, a rookie, would land such a big deal?
Her colleagues cursed their own blindness.
As Wen Ying prepared to leave, Yao Xiaojia eagerly saw her out.
“Sheer dumb luck,” a colleague muttered.
The manager waved them off like swatting flies, “This isn’t luck—it’s Xiao Yao’s skill. You lot didn’t have the eye to spot a client. Xiao Yao served her warmly, so this deal is hers!”
The manager was blatantly lying.
A young girl buying a house—who’d take her seriously?
The other agents were baffled.
In their line of work, they’d heard stories like this: an old man with a sack of cash buying a house, or wearing flip-flops to buy a Mercedes. It seemed they’d need to start taking not just old men but even teenagers seriously.
Wen Ying’s purchase of three houses left endless gossip at the agency.
She had Yao Xiaojia accompany her to an ATM, where she withdrew 1,500 yuan in cash from Xie Qian’s card and handed it to Yao Xiaojia, “This is what you’ve earned. I hope we can work together again.”
Next time she dealt with Yao Xiaojia, it would be for her own house!
Wen Ying said someone else would handle the balance and paperwork. Yao Xiaojia, clutching the cash, promised to manage the transfer well.
“I’d love to work with Miss Wen again!”
Who’d let go of a client who bought houses like groceries?
Wen Ying’s hints about buying more houses aside, even if she didn’t, for a rookie agent like Yao Xiaojia, this was a valuable connection. Working in Shanghai, Yao Xiaojia had learned one thing: rich people flock together. Behind one wealthy Miss Wen, there might be plenty of rich friends and relatives!
Wen Ying flagged down a taxi and waved goodbye to Yao Xiaojia.
Even after the taxi disappeared, Yao Xiaojia kept waving.
She wasn’t tired at all!
In her pocket was the 1,500 yuan Wen Ying gave her.
On top of that, she’d get the commission from the three houses.
With this money, she could pay rent, cover her living expenses, keep fighting in the agency world, and stay in this city.
Tears welled in Yao Xiaojia’s eyes, but her smile was radiant.
…
Three houses bought.
A rookie agent helped.
Wen Ying’s half-day had been incredibly fulfilling.
Newcomers like Yao Xiaojia were common in this city.
Some, like Yao Xiaojia, got lucky and met a “benefactor” when they were on the brink. Others were defeated by the city and returned home dejected. Everyone had a story. Wen Ying couldn’t help everyone, but lending a hand when she could cost her little.
In her past life in Shanghai, she’d met her own benefactor.
When Wu Chunqin appeared out of nowhere, Wen Ying was even more thrilled than Yao Xiaojia today.
Wen Ying got back to the hotel ten minutes before three.
Chen Ru, still in the room without makeup, clearly had no interest in attending the award ceremony.
Wen Ying tugged at her, “Mum, let’s go see it. It’s boring staying in the room. We’re already here.”
This made Chen Ru angry.
If Wen Ying hadn’t been so stubborn, she’d have a place at the award ceremony. If Wen Ying could win first prize, Chen Ru would be clapping in the audience, no urging needed—she’d have dressed to the nines.
But Wen Ying wasn’t winning anything, so Chen Ru couldn’t muster enthusiasm.
Maybe, with luck, Wen Ying could get a second prize… but what good was that? It didn’t add points for university applications—useless to Chen Ru!
Wen Ying shamelessly coaxed her, “Mum, I’m actually really happy. No kidding, I’m thrilled.”
Chen Ru rolled her eyes as Wen Ying rambled on.
Happy without a prize?
Wen Ying’s eyes sparkled, her face all smiles, “I feel like you’ve changed so much. We’re closer than before, aren’t we? I didn’t want Aunt Wu’s help. You’re upset and angry, but you didn’t call Aunt Wu behind my back or agree on my behalf. I know Aunt Wu’s waiting for your call, and if you asked, she’d definitely help. But you haven’t made that call.”
When did her mum start changing?
Still domineering.
Still stubborn.
Still a powder keg of a temper.
What changed was her attitude toward Wen Ying.
Chen Ru didn’t agree with Wen Ying’s choices but didn’t go behind her back or make decisions without her. Wen Ying saw this as Chen Ru’s “respect” for her.
How rare!
In her past life, it took Wen Ying 31 years to achieve what was happening now.
She didn’t know if other parents respected their children’s choices, but hers never understood the word “respect.” No matter her achievements, if she didn’t follow Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong’s wishes, it was wrong.
This time, things were different.
Wen Ying rejected Wu Chunqin, and Chen Ru erupted, fuming from last night to today.
But Chen Ru didn’t contact Wu Chunqin privately or act in Wen Ying’s “best interest” to do something that would upset her.
Wen Ying was truly overjoyed.
Even if Chen Ru wanted to pack up and return to Chengdu, even if Wen Ying didn’t get a second prize, nothing could dampen her joy.
Her biggest gain from this Shanghai trip wasn’t the award or buying houses for Xie Qian—it was confirming Chen Ru’s change!
Chen Ru squirmed under Wen Ying’s gaze, uncomfortable.
What change? Chen Ru thought she hadn’t called Wu Chunqin because it was too embarrassing.
In Wen Ying’s words, it sounded more significant than winning a prize.
Chen Ru, flustered, pushed away her clingy daughter and stood to fix her hair, “I can’t be bothered with your nonsense. You want to go to the award ceremony? Fine, go. I wonder if you’ll regret watching others win!”
Chen Ru changed her mind and decided to attend.
Wen Ying followed with a cheeky grin, “No prize, no big deal. I’ll take it as experience for next year.”
Dream on.
Next year, she might not even make the finals.
If she didn’t, begging Wu Chunqin wouldn’t help.
The mother and daughter arrived at the venue, one after the other.
They were late; the place was packed.
Chen Ru wasn’t the only parent accompanying a finalist. Wen Ying had seen Song Chan with other contestants at the hotel, but only now spotted Song Chan’s parent at the ceremony.
It looked like Song Chan’s father.
He had the same vibe as Song Chan—long hair to his shoulders, very thin, the kind you might mistake for a woman from behind.
Wen Ying recalled some school rumours.
Some adored Song Chan; others didn’t.
Her fans called her a literary prodigy, while her detractors dug up dirt.
They claimed Song Chan’s book deal and Sichuan Writers’ Association membership came from having a good father.
Song’s father was a well-known poet in Chengdu in his youth, publishing several collections.
Naturally, he was absorbed into the Writers’ Association.
Later, he became editor-in-chief of a Chengdu magazine.
Song Chan herself had let this slip, and her detractors latched onto it as ammunition. She later got wise and stopped mentioning her family background. Whether her father was still an editor, Wen Ying didn’t know.
No wonder Manager Chen was so anxious.
In a venue full of contestants with literary pedigrees, the literary world was small, and many active figures knew each other.
Song’s father might know a judge—or not. Chen Ru feared Wen Ying wasn’t losing on her writing but being outdone by connections, which was why she sought Wu Chunqin.
