Under the threat of her mother’s wrath, Wen Ying quickly pulled herself together and went to pay for the pile of items she was holding.
Chen Ru was baffled.
She wanted to scold her, but since Wen Ying had just won first place, Chen Ru held back her urge to lecture.
Chen Ru chalked up Wen Ying’s odd behaviour to the melodramatic tendencies of a teenage girl.
She had heard that writers often had such quirks, and now that Wen Ying had won an award, these signs were already showing. Chen Ru couldn’t help but worry.
At noon, when the mother and daughter went to dine with Wu Chunqin and her husband, Wen Ying behaved well, and Chen Ru forgot about her earlier emotional outburst. That evening, they boarded a flight back to Chengdu with their haul of items. Wu Chunqin drove them to the airport. Despite being old classmates who hadn’t seen each other in years and only sharing three meals during this reunion, Wu Chunqin was reluctant to part.
When Chen Ru initially asked Wu Chunqin for help, she felt embarrassed. Now, as they were about to part, her thoughts weren’t about the favour but about how much she’d miss her friend.
Chen Ru invited Wu Chunqin to visit Chengdu when she had time, and Wu Chunqin nodded in agreement, “When Old Shen gets a holiday, and I’m free, we’ll definitely come!”
“Goodbye, Aunt Wu,” Wen Ying said, also reluctant to part with Wu Chunqin.
Wu Chunqin winked at Chen Ru, who nodded back.
Let things take their natural course—she got it!
As long as they kept a close eye on Wen Ying’s studies for the next two and a half years, getting into a top university would come naturally.
This trip to Shanghai, Chen Ru felt, had been a great success, and she was in high spirits on the way back.
As the plane was about to land, Chen Ru suddenly asked Wen Ying, “This winter holiday, do you want to go to Hangzhou for a trip?”
Chen Ru assumed Wen Ying still held a grudge about the family’s unfulfilled plan to visit Hangzhou years ago. But for Wen Ying, that was a promise made by her parents “twenty years ago”—she barely remembered it.
Wen Ying was surprised that Manager Chen was proactively suggesting a trip—shouldn’t she be pushing her to catch up on studies?
Unsure of what Chen Ru was up to, suspecting a trap, Wen Ying declined the offer with a valid excuse: she wanted to help “Tianjiao Film” write a script during the winter holiday.
Scriptwriting required a quiet environment, which clearly couldn’t be done while travelling.
“This kind of opportunity doesn’t usually come to a student like me. Uncle Li trusts me, and I want to give it a try. Mum, can I do it?”
—Of course, it’s best not to!
Chen Ru wished she could take back her earlier suggestion.
But the words were already out, and she couldn’t exactly allow Wen Ying to go to Hangzhou but forbid her from spending time writing a script, could she?
Both were unrelated to her studies.
“You’re a student; your main focus should be studying—”
Chen Ru stopped mid-sentence, swallowing her words.
To say Wen Ying didn’t prioritise her studies would be nonsense. Not only were her exam results visibly improving, but even during this Shanghai competition, Wen Ying made time to work on practice questions.
Wu Chunqin had stressed “letting things take their natural course.” Chen Ru might not trust others’ advice, but Wu Chunqin had a PhD, and her husband was a professor at a top university, so Chen Ru respected her opinion.
Though she didn’t outright stop Wen Ying from scriptwriting, Chen Ru let out a huff, “Fine, it’s your choice. I was going to sign you up for a winter camp, but looks like we can save that money!”
Her tone carried a hint of petulance.
Wen Ying stifled a laugh and sighed, “I’ll skip the winter camp. This Shanghai trip cost a lot, and Dad even gave up smoking to save money. With you both being so frugal, how could I shamelessly go to a winter camp?”
Wen Ying’s mention reminded Chen Ru of Wen Dongrong’s three thousand yuan in secret savings.
Though that money had passed through Wen Ying’s hands and ended up with Chen Ru, Wen Dongrong’s habit of hiding money wasn’t something to encourage!
This time, it was for Wen Ying’s Shanghai competition, so Wen Dongrong handed it over. If she hadn’t gone to Shanghai, would he have kept it hidden forever?
Hiding money like that—who knows if it would’ve ended up with some Wen family relative!
If it was just other relatives, fine. But if it secretly went to Wen Hongyan and her daughter Shu Lu, who had returned to their hometown, Chen Ru would be livid.
Chen Ru’s thoughts spiralled, and she forgot to press Wen Ying about whether scriptwriting would interfere with her studies.
Wen Ying sneaked a glance at her mother’s expression and breathed a sigh of relief: Sorry, Dad, you’re on your own now!
Wen Ying had sacrificed her father to divert her mother’s attention.
Wen Dongrong, waiting in the Chengdu airport parking lot, was oblivious to this.
As the flight was about to land, Wen Dongrong kept checking his watch, eager to pick up his wife and daughter.
He had used Wen Ying’s award to rub it in the faces of colleagues like Old Li. Wen Ying had brought him pride, and he didn’t even mind parting with his secret savings. For the first time, he felt his daughter was his “little cotton jacket.” With Wen Ying’s triumphant return, Wen Dongrong, no matter how busy, insisted on picking them up—unaware that his “little cotton jacket” was full of holes.
While waiting, Wen Dongrong wondered: Should I frame that certificate and hang it in my office?
Old Li would probably never want to step foot in there again.
It’d be satisfying, but perhaps too flashy. Subtle bragging was more effective; being too deliberate might backfire.
Finally, the Shanghai-to-Chengdu flight landed. Hearing the airport announcement, Wen Dongrong walked to the exit.
Despite his excitement, he kept his hands behind his back, striking a dignified pose.
As passengers poured out, Wen Dongrong spotted Chen Ru striding forward with their luggage, exuding confidence, while his “little cotton jacket,” Wen Ying, avoided his gaze, her eyes darting away.
Wen Dongrong’s instincts kicked in, sensing something was off.
—Something doesn’t feel right!
…
At the He family’s Shanghai residence, He Zhen, who had brought his girlfriend home, was less than pleased.
Dai Chenglan, the lady of the house, welcomed Rebecca with impeccable courtesy. Dai wasn’t the wife of a nouveau riche; though she was once a follower in elite circles, she came from a cadre family. Without that background, she wouldn’t have even qualified to be a follower.
With such an upbringing, Dai’s manners surpassed most of her peers.
While Wen Ying’s parents struggled with English classes, Dai Chenglan conversed fluently with Rebecca, a Brit, without any issues.
Dai and Rebecca hit it off.
Rebecca, not one for scheming, revealed everything Dai wanted to know within just over two hours of their first meeting.
“You’ve been travelling for a week; you must be tired. Rest early tonight, and let He Zhen show you around the city tomorrow,” Dai said, instructing the nanny to take Rebecca to the guest room.
Rebecca turned back and smiled at He Zhen.
He Zhen had explained that China was more conservative, so while they could share a room while travelling, at the He family home, they’d have to sleep separately.
He Zhen said it was custom, and Rebecca respected that.
As soon as Rebecca was led away by the nanny, Dai Chenglan pulled her son aside for a private talk.
“Are you just having fun with this girl, or is it serious?”
He Zhen was speechless.
Of course, dating was serious. What was the point of playing around?
“Mum, I chased Rebecca for a long time. She has plenty of suitors in the UK, and she chose me—it’s my honour! I brought her to China because I’m serious about her.”
Fearing a misunderstanding, He Zhen emphasised how popular Rebecca was.
The He family had wealth, but Rebecca’s family was well-off too. Compared to her other suitors, the He family’s fortune wasn’t the most impressive. He Zhen hadn’t won her over with money.
What right did he have to “play” with Rebecca?
Sure, some girls abroad were casual about relationships, but Rebecca wasn’t that type.
Dai Chenglan frowned, “You’d better not get too serious, or it’ll hurt more when you break up.”
He Zhen felt like he’d been doused with cold water.
The first time he brought a girlfriend home, and his mum was already talking about a breakup?
Couldn’t she say something nicer?
“Why?” He Zhen asked, confused. “I thought you liked Rebecca. You two were chatting so happily.”
Dai didn’t deny it, “Rebecca comes from a good family and is smart. Why would I dislike her? I have no prejudice against you dating a foreign girl, but only if she’s willing to live in China for you. Do you think Rebecca would come to China?”
Rebecca wouldn’t.
At least for now, she hadn’t shown any inclination to.
Rebecca didn’t dislike China—she was happy to visit with He Zhen and had enjoyed their week here.
But visiting China and living in China were different. Asking Rebecca to leave everything in the UK for love and move to a foreign country… He Zhen couldn’t even bring himself to suggest it.
Dai’s words made He Zhen realise something he hadn’t considered.
Young people in love often follow their hearts, seeking present joy without thinking about the future.
Whether He Zhen stayed in the UK or Rebecca came to China was something to discuss when they were ready for marriage.
At 20, He Zhen hadn’t even thought about marriage, and his mother’s question caught him off guard.
Though young and unprepared, He Zhen instinctively defended his relationship, “Whether Rebecca comes to China or I stay in the UK is something we’ll figure out later. I’m not going to break up with her over this!”
Dai’s face lost all trace of a smile.
Was her son seriously considering staying in the UK for this British girl?
Dai absolutely couldn’t agree.
He Zhen was their only child. The He family’s growing business and wealth were meant for him to inherit after his studies abroad.
If He Zhen stayed in the UK, what would happen to the family business? Dai and her husband hadn’t worked so hard to amass wealth just to donate it. Everything they had was for their son.
With this in mind, Dai spoke bluntly, “Forget that idea. You’re coming back to China eventually. If not after your bachelor’s, then after your master’s. Even if you drag it out with a PhD, it’s just a few more years. I know you don’t like hearing this, but your father and I didn’t spend money sending you abroad to become a British son-in-law.”
