That afternoon, during the award ceremony, Wen Dongrong was swamped with work.
He attended three meetings, with no time to check his phone. By the time he was done, it was 8 p.m.
His phone showed two missed calls and one text message.
Both calls were from Chen Ru.
As Wen Dongrong descended the stairs, he opened the text, surprised by its contents.
First prize?
“Dongrong, comrade!”
His rival, Old Li, saw Wen Dongrong frozen on the stairs and patted his shoulder from behind. “You’re so out of it, careful you don’t fall.”
Old Li was all concern for Wen Dongrong.
Wen Dongrong was fed up with Old Li, but as colleagues in the same unit, he couldn’t openly clash—they still had to work together. Ever since showing off the tie and shoes Wen Ying gave him, Wen Dongrong had found a way to one-up Old Li.
In the workplace, he and Old Li were evenly matched, but they could compare their kids.
Wen Dongrong put on a troubled look. “Old Li, when your son was a teenager, was he hard to manage?”
Wen Dongrong’s irritation was Old Li’s delight, sparking his interest.
“You were just bragging about how thoughtful your daughter was, buying you gifts. Already in her rebellious phase? Dongrong, I’m not trying to lecture you, but work’s important, and so is family—especially your kid’s upbringing. It can shape the whole family’s future.”
Wen Dongrong feigned a receptive expression.
Old Li recalled his son’s rebellious days, when he’d lost countless hairs to stress. Now that it was over, he couldn’t help but gloat over Wen Dongrong’s troubles.
“Tell me, what’s the situation? I’ll give you some advice.”
Wen Dongrong already knew Wen Ying had rejected Wu Chunqin’s help.
With Chen Ru’s temper, she’d never easily ask an old classmate for a favor—Wen Dongrong had been the one pushing for it.
But Wen Ying didn’t appreciate it.
He’d wanted to fly to Shanghai to talk to Wu Chunqin himself.
But year-end work was hectic, and with Old Li watching him like a hawk, waiting for a misstep, Wen Dongrong couldn’t take leave.
Unexpectedly, things turned around—Wen Ying won first prize!
Even if Old Li hadn’t walked into his trap, Wen Dongrong was looking for a chance to rub it in.
“Sigh, my daughter’s tough to handle. She got into a top provincial high school, so just study hard, right? Nope, she insisted on taking leave to go to Shanghai for some New Concept Essay Competition. It’s not like before when a first prize guaranteed a spot at a top university. Now it just lowers the admission score by a few dozen points. Her mum and I didn’t expect her to win anything, just wanted her to focus on her studies…”
Old Li laughed, “You can’t spoil her. When my son was in high school, he wanted to start a band with his friends. I gave him a good beating. He threatened to disown me, but now he’s grateful. Without that beating, he wouldn’t have gotten into university!”
Being good at academics was already impressive.
Even focusing solely on studies didn’t guarantee good grades. Splitting attention to side pursuits? Forget about university.
Old Li had congratulated Wen Dongrong when he heard Wen Ying got into a top high school, but inwardly, he wasn’t thrilled.
As colleagues, Wen Dongrong’s daughter excelling made Old Li jealous.
Hearing Wen Ying was in her rebellious phase, Old Li offered comfort but was secretly amused.
But Wen Ying’s rebellion wasn’t like Old Li’s son’s band nonsense—she was competing. Hearing terms like “guaranteed admission” and “reduced scores,” Old Li’s eyelids twitched, sensing trouble.
—Wait, what’s he worried about? If Wen Dongrong’s daughter had won, he’d have bragged to the whole unit by now, like with the shoes and tie!
Old Li relaxed.
“So you let her go to Shanghai? No big deal, just treat it as spending money for a kid’s trip. Good for broadening her horizons.”
Wen Dongrong nodded solemnly, “Of course we agreed. Her mum and I had no expectations. It was about participation. But just now, my wife told me Wen Ying won first prize. Now I’m really worried!”
Old Li stared at Wen Dongrong, speechless for a moment.
Words like “guaranteed admission” and “reduced scores” scurried through his mind like rats.
“What did you say? First prize means—”
“It means reduced-score admission to a dozen top universities,” Wen Dongrong said, listing a few prestigious names. Old Li felt a lump in his throat.
You’re worried about *that*?!
Old Li wanted to kick Wen Dongrong down the stairs—ideally to his death, or at least to leave him half-paralyzed.
Before Old Li could act, Wen Dongrong started down the stairs, muttering, “So many schools, but only one kid. Which one should she pick?”
Old Li got it—Wen Dongrong was “worried” about which top university his daughter would choose.
His slick Versailles-style bragging made Old Li’s head throb. Instead of kicking Wen Dongrong, he nearly tripped himself.
In a government office, secrets don’t stay secret. Within half an hour, news of Wen Ying’s first prize in the New Concept Essay Competition spread through Wen Dongrong’s workplace.
Even those unfamiliar with the competition got a quick rundown from colleagues.
Wen Dongrong received several calls on his way home, all congratulations.
Along with the well-wishes, they asked for the secret to Wen Ying’s win.
These colleagues had high school kids and saw the competition as a shortcut to success.
With Wen Ying’s example, they figured their kids might have a shot too.
After all, Wen Dongrong never mentioned his daughter having literary talent before, yet she won first prize. Maybe their kids could too?
Every high schooler can write an essay!
Compared to math or physics Olympiads, it seemed easy.
Wen Dongrong didn’t discourage their optimism, even encouraging them to have their kids apply next year.
“Give it a try! What if they win?”
—Yeah, right!
Wen Dongrong still didn’t understand how Wen Ying won, but that didn’t stop him from setting traps for his colleagues.
A competition offering reduced university admissions scores? Easy? No way.
But why stop them?
If they didn’t try, Wen Ying’s win wouldn’t seem as impressive.
Wanting to know more, Wen Dongrong called Chen Ru, whose phone took a while to pick up. She was at the City God Temple with Wen Ying.
Chen Ru’s voice was cheerful over the phone’s noisy background.
“Tomorrow, I’m meeting Chunqin for lunch at the Oriental Pearl Tower. We’ll spend half a day exploring Shanghai, then head back to Chengdu in the evening. Anything you want us to bring back?”
It had been a while since Wen Dongrong heard his wife so gentle, and he was a bit flustered, “I don’t need anything. You two enjoy Shanghai.”
At the City God Temple, Chen Ru hung up after a brief chat, the background too loud. Thinking of Old Li’s sour face, Wen Dongrong went home, cooked two dishes, and happily sipped some wine.
…
“Was that Dad?” Wen Ying asked.
Chen Ru nodded, “Your uncle gave you 5,000 yuan before we came to Shanghai, right? Get up early tomorrow. We’ll hit the mall to pick out gifts before meeting your Aunt Wu at the Oriental Pearl Tower.”
At the City God Temple, Wu Chunqin called again, saying she’d spoken to her husband and hoped to meet before Chen Ru and Wen Ying left Shanghai.
Hearing that Professor Shen would join, how could Chen Ru refuse?
So tomorrow’s revolving restaurant lunch went from two to four people.
Wen Ying had no objections.
She’d known Professor Shen in her past life. Feeling nervous would be too affected, and Shen was easygoing. Wen Ying was actually looking forward to the lunch.
Chen Ru’s plan to shop for gifts suited Wen Ying perfectly.
Qin Yi wanted to discuss new franchise plans with Wen Ying, but she had no time, so they settled it over the phone.
In January 2005, with the new year, *Shrimp King*’s franchise fees were due for a raise.
That night, Wen Ying’s phone was bombarded with congratulatory calls for her award.
Xie Qian didn’t call, just sent a simple “Congrats” text—brief but impactful.
The next morning, Wen Ying and Chen Ru went on a shopping spree at the mall. Wen Ying slipped gifts for Zou Weijun and Lin Lin among the pile, and Chen Ru didn’t notice.
With the “New Concept First Prize” as a safety net and Wu Chunqin’s assurances, Chen Ru’s tension had eased, and her oversight of Wen Ying loosened.
Wen Ying carried a heap of items to the checkout.
A young couple was ahead of her, clearly in their youth.
The girl had long, soft brown hair.
Even in a coat, her perfect shoulders were noticeable.
Her tight jeans hugged long, straight legs.
Shanghai was full of pretty girls, but this model-like figure made Wen Ying glance twice.
Not just a stunning figure—she was a foreign girl.
The guy was paying, and the girl, brushing her hair, accidentally knocked Wen Ying’s items to the floor, apologizing with several “Sorry”s.
“Rebecca, it’s fine, I’ll pick them up,” the guy said.
His voice made Wen Ying freeze. Looking up, a face both strange and familiar hit her unexpectedly.
The pink-gold highlights were gone, replaced by standard black hair, which was why Wen Ying hadn’t recognized him at first.
She’d considered she might not win first prize but never imagined running into He Zhen in Shanghai.
He Zhen stood right there, less than three feet away!
Unlike last time, when a fleeting glimpse in a KTV hallway sent her chasing after him, only to sprain her ankle without catching up.
Now He Zhen was here, yet Wen Ying couldn’t say a word.
The foreign girl beside him—was she He Zhen’s first love, the British senior he never forgot?
Hearing about it was one thing; seeing it was another.
Reflexively, Wen Ying clutched her items and bolted.
Rebecca was confused.
Why did this Chinese girl run?
She turned to her boyfriend for help, but He Zhen was even more baffled—he felt like he knew this girl, yet didn’t. Was something wrong with his memory?!
