Second-generation wealth, born with a silver spoon, enjoys material comforts far beyond the average person. The pressures ordinary college graduates face are alien to them.
Likewise, ordinary people can’t fathom the pressures of the wealthy.
He Zhen enjoyed a lifestyle far surpassing his peers, but he also bore his own burdens.
As the saying goes, wealth doesn’t last beyond three generations. First-generation tycoons, like the He family, fear a lack of worthy successors, so He Zhen was sent abroad to study during high school.
Dai Chenglan’s words were harsh but true.
The He family was counting on He Zhen to return and take over the family business. How could they let him become a British son-in-law?
Saying this now might annoy He Zhen.
But waiting until his bond with Rebecca deepened to say it?
Better to say it now.
Dai Chenglan sighed, “Think it over carefully.”
He Zhen sat alone in the living room for over an hour, replaying his memories with Rebecca from their first meeting to their romance. Despite his mother’s words, he wouldn’t give up on this relationship. At 20, He Zhen seriously considered his future with Rebecca for the first time.
Breaking up was out of the question.
Either Rebecca would come to China, or he’d stay in the UK.
He weighed both options.
Rebecca was studying biology, a field where undergraduate degrees offered jobs that vocational graduates could also do. Without a PhD, she couldn’t enter research—a threshold she, with her perfectionist drive, would surely cross by earning a doctorate.
Then there was her career. The UK had many leading biotech companies. If Rebecca followed him to China, her career prospects… And what about him staying in the UK?
He Zhen wasn’t so reckless as to abandon his family’s expectations and business for love.
If he stayed, it would be with a plan to support the family business.
Could the He family’s business expand to the UK?
Not currently.
Their core operations were in manufacturing, where China’s cheap labour was an advantage. In the UK—or wherever top biotech firms were, which Rebecca would target—it wasn’t feasible. Both still had studies to complete, but He Zhen was confident he’d find a compromise by the time they faced this choice.
Clearing his thoughts, He Zhen’s tense shoulders relaxed.
It was his mother’s fault, bringing up marriage. He and Rebecca were still young—neither had thought about marriage!
He Zhen touched his hair.
His father was traditional, so he’d dyed his hair back to black before returning to China.
His mother’s opinion didn’t matter; his father would surely like Rebecca.
He Zhen chuckled to himself on the sofa. A pair of hands covered his eyes from behind, and a kiss landed on the back of his head.
“Does your mum like me?” Rebecca’s breath was warm.
He Zhen grabbed her, pulling her onto the sofa. “What do you think? Who in the world could dislike you?”
He tickled her, and Rebecca giggled.
Though Dai Chenglan didn’t like Rebecca, it wouldn’t affect their relationship. But if she did, Rebecca would be even happier.
Rebecca reflected, feeling she’d handled the meeting well despite cultural differences. Surely, He Zhen’s mother had no reason to dislike her.
With that thought, Rebecca stole another kiss.
He Zhen’s heart fluttered, tempted to do more but mindful of their surroundings.
He regretted not staying at a hotel instead of coming home.
As the couple shared their moment, Dai Chenglan was upstairs on the phone. She waited over two hours for Mr. He to return.
“How’s Ah-Zhen’s girlfriend? Since she came with him, you should play the good host,” Mr. He said.
Traditional as he was, Mr. He had no issue with his son’s British girlfriend. Rebecca’s family background was solid, her academic achievements impressive—she was a proper young lady. At 20, it was normal for He Zhen to bring a girlfriend home.
Whether He Zhen and Rebecca would last, whether she’d follow him to China or he’d stay in the UK for her, Mr. He didn’t dwell on such distant matters like Dai Chenglan, who seemed eager to break up the couple over hypotheticals.
Mr. He focused on bigger things: the family business’s growth and He Zhen’s potential.
Those were his priorities.
As long as the big picture was secure, why sweat the details?
Knowing her husband’s temperament, Dai Chenglan didn’t mention her talk with He Zhen, instead bringing up the evening’s phone call.
“…Xie Jinghu bought another property for Zhuo Yue.”
Mr. He, tired from a day of socializing, took a moment to recall who “Zhuo Yue” was.
Xie Jinghu’s illegitimate daughter with his mistress!
The mistress had borne Xie a son and a daughter. The son initially took the surname of the wealthy overseas Chinese man she married. When the man died, a paternity test revealed no blood relation. The man’s other children, no pushovers, settled the mother and son with minimal inheritance, barring her from claiming widow status. The son, unrelated to the man, took her surname, Zhuo.
The daughter born later also took the Zhuo surname.
Taking the mother’s surname wasn’t a big deal, but their situation was unique. Whether they could take the father’s surname depended on the Xie family’s approval.
For now, the Xie family clearly disapproved, so the daughter was “Zhuo Yue,” not “Xie Yue.”
Mr. He thought the Xie family was right.
Regardless of whether Xie Jinghu and his mistress were truly in love, as his mistress, her children were illegitimate. Xie Jinghu was a businessman, but the rest of the Xie family weren’t. If those siblings entered the Xie family, how would outsiders view them?
Mr. He stayed silent. Dai Chenglan nudged him, “I know you look down on her. You think I don’t? But while we may not, Xie Jinghu clearly does. The Xie family won’t let him acknowledge the mother and her children, yet he’s secretly buying property for Zhuo Yue. That shows how much he values her.”
Dai Chenglan started this to persuade her husband but grew emotional herself.
That woman had always had better luck than Dai Chenglan.
Raised like a princess.
When the Zhuo family fell, she fled abroad and quickly married a wealthy overseas Chinese man.
Pregnant with her ex’s child, she married a tycoon—how many women could pull that off?
When the man died, the truth came out, but she didn’t fade into obscurity. Somehow, her ex struck it rich… Same as women, Dai Chenglan had to build her life with her husband from scratch, while that woman, without enduring hardship, had men lining up to provide for her.
Dai Chenglan sighed, “What do you think I’m after? Associating with her isn’t glamorous. I’m doing it for our business, for you, for He Zhen. I don’t want you grovelling for connections or He Zhen inheriting a declining business. I care about both of you, so I’m the one swallowing my pride to take shortcuts!”
Mr. He was silent for a long moment before taking Dai Chenglan’s hand.
Her well-maintained hands had once shared his hardships. He couldn’t bring himself to criticise her.
Dai Chenglan squeezed his hand back, elated: Old He’s silence meant consent.
She had no hobby of playing lackey. Rekindling this “friendship” had to yield some returns!
Dai Chenglan already had a plan for those returns.
…
While the He family couple discussed business-shaping matters late into the night in Shanghai, the Wen family in Chengdu was engrossed in typical, down-to-earth family chatter.
Wen Dongrong’s sense of unease wasn’t misplaced.
He hadn’t picked up a triumphant little cotton jacket and gentle wife at the airport but a leaky, scheming cotton jacket and a tiger of a wife provoked by said jacket.
Wen Ying and her mother had shopped extensively in Shanghai, mostly gifts for friends and family. Wen Dongrong got two leather belts.
The leather was soft, the metal buckles gleaming.
Top-notch quality and craftsmanship, as expected from Shanghai’s malls.
Wen Dongrong was delighted but still grumbled to Chen Ru, “I have belts already. Why buy two more? Such a waste of money!”
Wen Ying tiptoed back to her room.
Chen Ru crossed her arms and sneered, “A waste? I bought them with your money. Three thousand yuan for two belts—I made a profit!”
“…”
Wen Dongrong glanced at Wen Ying’s room. The door was shut, the lights off.
How could this kid have no conscience?
He regretted hiding those three thousand yuan in the lampshade. He gave it up and got no credit—what a raw deal!
Chen Ru wasn’t the old Chen Ru. Wen Dongrong didn’t dare argue, lowering his voice, “I didn’t keep much money. It was saved from cutting back on smoking. If Wen Ying hadn’t gone to Shanghai, I’d have saved five thousand to give you.”
Chen Ru rolled her eyes.
“Who knows who you’d give it to!”
Who else could it be?
Wen Dongrong caught her implication, knowing she meant Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu. He was truly wronged.
Since Wen Hongyan and her daughter returned to their hometown, Wen Hongyan had tried to complain to him, even getting other Wen family members to mediate. Fed up, Wen Dongrong aired Shu Guobing and Shu Lu’s deeds to the family. No one expected Shu Guobing, besides writing accusatory letters, had hired thugs to break into their home and paid a delinquent to extort Wen Ying. These weren’t relatives—they were enemies!
Wen Ying’s grandmother doted on Wen Kai among the grandchildren but favoured Wen Dongrong among her children, knowing the family’s current status was thanks to him.
When Shu Guobing did such things, Grandma Wen chased Wen Hongyan with a shoe, beating her. Shu Lu cried her eyes out, but the old lady didn’t spare them a glance.
Often, troublesome relatives persist because elders meddle, and family ties prevent cutting them off. With Grandma Wen ignoring Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu, no Wen family member would be foolish enough to annoy Wen Dongrong for their sake.
Wen Dongrong felt wronged because he hadn’t given a single cent to Wen Hongyan or Shu Lu!
Chen Ru was skeptical. Wen Dongrong shifted the blame, mentioning Shu Guobing, “His sentence is coming soon. I asked around—it’ll likely be under three years.”
