Hearing that Shu Guobing would likely get less than three years, Chen Ru was deeply disappointed.
To her, Shu Guobing’s actions were heinous, but sentencing didn’t follow her wishes. If Yang Xi hadn’t been injured, Shu Guobing’s sentence would’ve been even lighter.
According to the law, Shu Guobing’s crimes warranted “up to three years of imprisonment.” Wen Dongrong had done what he could to ensure the maximum sentence of three years.
Shu Guobing was the main culprit, while Xiao Cai and the two thugs were accomplices, receiving even shorter sentences.
Chen Ru was dissatisfied, but Cai Youlun was furious.
Xiao Cai was Cai Youlun’s right-hand man. Without him, Cai felt handicapped in his operations.
Moreover, “Shu’s Seafood Stall” and the seafood wholesale business at Qingshiqiao were nominally managed by Shu Guobing but actually run by Xiao Cai. With Xiao Cai heading to prison, Cai Youlun couldn’t find anyone trustworthy to take over.
He had invested over a million yuan—his money didn’t grow on trees. How could he let it go?
Yet, after Shrimp King’s flagship store opened, Shu’s Seafood Stall’s business plummeted. While Shrimp King had customers lining up, Shu’s place barely sold a few tables a night.
A market won through low prices was lost when quality couldn’t keep up.
The decline of Shu’s Seafood Stall wasn’t just due to Shrimp King’s opening but also the setback in the Qingshiqiao wholesale business.
Shu Guobing had proposed the seafood venture to compete with Deng Shangwei.
Deng Shangwei had previously played the poor, helpless card, unable to counter Cai’s wholesale shop. But with Yu Wenhao and his son arrested, Deng had no more reservations.
Whatever tactics Shu Guobing had used against Deng, Deng now returned in kind, and Cai Youlun bore the brunt of Deng’s retaliation.
Cai tried to negotiate peace through intermediaries, but Deng refused to meet him.
Cai had other businesses and couldn’t focus on the seafood shop. As an outsider unfamiliar with the seafood trade’s intricacies and lacking a powerful backer, he quickly stumbled on supply issues. Within two months, he withdrew from Qingshiqiao, and the seafood stall was transferred to someone else. Cai lost hundreds of thousands, all to prop up a hopeless venture. Even if Zhao Dong compensated him, this was Cai’s worst business failure, leaving him bitter every time he thought of it. But these were later events—when Wen Ying returned from Shanghai, Cai’s businesses were still limping along.
Back at school, Wen Ying’s first-place win in the New Concept Essay Contest was widely known, especially in Class 16. Her four-day absence was obvious to everyone.
On Friday morning, as she entered the classroom just before morning self-study, Class 16 erupted in synchronized applause.
It was clearly planned.
Wen Ying felt embarrassed, “It’s just a small award.”
Li Mengjiao clapped enthusiastically, “Small? Song Chan from Grade 2 came back earlier, and her class celebrated last night at KTV!”
The New Concept first prize now only offered admission score reductions, unlike major science competitions that guaranteed direct admission.
But in terms of fame and influence among students, the New Concept Essay Contest outshone them.
Science competitions attracted only a handful of top students, while the essay contest had no barriers, making it more popular.
“KTV’s too expensive, but how about fried potatoes from the school gate?” Wen Ying teased.
Following Li Mengjiao’s lead, she was met with playful boos, with classmates eagerly placing orders:
“I want a large portion!”
“Extra chili powder for mine.”
“I like mine crispy!”
Wen Ying nodded, “Someone grab a notebook to jot this down. I’ll treat everyone after school.”
It was Friday, and Grade 1 dismissed early, giving Wen Ying time to treat the class.
Class 16’s laughter drew curious glances from neighbouring classes.
The class monitor finally restored order, allowing morning self-study to proceed.
Wen Ying settled into her seat. Xie Qian put down his book, flashed her a smile, and left her dazzled.
—After all, Xie Qian was the best-looking, never getting old!
For a fangirl, having an idol was enough. Ex-boyfriends could stay with their British seniors.
As Wen Ying consoled herself, Xie Qian held out his hand. She quickly returned his bank card, whispering, “I paid a 150,000 deposit, gave the agent a 1,500 red envelope, and bought gifts…”
Xie Qian wasn’t asking for an expense report. Hearing her ramble about the spending without mentioning anything for herself, he interrupted, “I know all that. I’m not asking for the card—I want the workbook.”
What workbook?
The one Xie Qian gave her before her Shanghai trip, of course.
Wen Ying’s face fell like a sad kitten: a fangirl needed more than an idol—she had to study too!
Luckily, she knew she wasn’t studying for others. Despite her packed Shanghai schedule, she’d made time for practice questions.
Handing over the workbook, Xie Qian checked her progress and was mildly satisfied.
“You’ve won first place, so no need to waste time on that anymore. The score reduction is nice, but their offered majors might not be what you want. Even if you aim for a partner university of the contest, improving your grades over the next two and a half years will give you more leverage in negotiations.”
Xie Qian didn’t care about score reductions.
If policy allowed, he’d give some of his points to his “hamster” without a second thought.
But the reduction was valuable for Wen Ying—she earned it herself, so why not use it?
This hamster was clever in other areas but less gifted in academics. With the score advantage, she could aim for top-tier universities. Thinking of this, Xie Qian felt relieved. He’d been strict with Wen Ying to ensure she wouldn’t fall behind at the college entrance exam. Her first-place win brightened her prospects.
Of course, Xie Qian wouldn’t show this, lest Wen Ying get complacent.
Wen Ying knew he was right.
Having fought for the freedom to choose her major, failing to get into her desired school and program would be beyond embarrassing!
Learning of her win, Zou Weijun was thrilled for Wen Ying.
On Friday evening, when Xie Qian returned home, Zou Weijun suggested celebrating for Wen Ying. Xie Qian gave her the gifts Wen Ying had bought, surprising Zou Weijun, “She got me gifts? That’s too kind!”
For some reason, Xie Qian didn’t clarify that he’d paid and Wen Ying had only selected them, letting Zou Weijun’s assumption slide.
It wasn’t his first lie, but this one felt particularly uncomfortable.
To change the subject, Xie Qian brought up buying houses in Shanghai for his three cousins.
“…Wen Ying helped pick them. She paid the deposit, but the balance is still due.”
Spending nearly three million wasn’t easy for Xie Qian. He wasn’t asking Zou Weijun for money, but she’d need to handle it. It’d be odd for him to buy houses for cousins of the same generation, but not for Zou Weijun.
As for the balance, though Xie Qian couldn’t yet manage the 2% Jinhu Group shares Xie Yuping secured for him, he’d get this year’s dividends, which, with his savings, would cover it.
The worst case was Xie Jinghu withholding dividends to spite him.
—Xie Qian knew about Xie Jinghu buying property for his illegitimate daughter abroad and was waiting for the right moment to expose it. If Xie Jinghu played dirty, Xie Qian would ensure he had a miserable Spring Festival!
Zou Weijun was stunned.
Two months ago, she’d have had no interest in such social dealings, caring neither for herself, Xie Qian, nor the Xie family.
Now, with her condition improving and emotions rekindling, she had the energy for these matters.
Xie Qian’s eldest cousin, Xie Tang, was nearing university graduation, so buying her a house was reasonable. Zou Weijun knew the Xie family treated Xie Qian well. Xie Jinghu was the wrongdoer, not the others.
Since they were buying for Xie Tang, the other two cousins couldn’t be left out.
Three houses, nearly three million. Zou Weijun never put much stock in money. Growing up in a well-off Zou family, she never lacked material things and wasn’t one to penny-pinch.
“I’ll cover the houses,” she said.
Her concern wasn’t the cost but Xie Qian making such a big decision alone, entrusting Wen Ying to pick houses—and Wen Ying actually did it.
Were these kids playing house?
Zou Weijun didn’t distrust Wen Ying, but she was a high school freshman making a three-million-yuan purchase—not three hundred yuan.
What if the real estate agent scammed her?
Zou Weijun added, “I’ll go to Shanghai to pay the balance and check the houses Wen Ying picked.”
Now Xie Qian hesitated.
Though his mother’s condition was improving, could she handle Shanghai alone?
Zou Weijun feared Wen Ying being tricked, but Xie Qian worried more about his mother.
Outside of academics, Wen Ying was fairly reliable.
And away from Chengdu, Xie Qian couldn’t ensure his mother wouldn’t be provoked.
“There’s a secretary named Zhong Yong by Uncle’s side. I’ve dealt with him; he’s trustworthy. Let him go with you to Shanghai. You can’t keep this from Uncle and the others.”
Zou Weijun considered it and didn’t object.
She could manage Shanghai and buy houses—she wasn’t incompetent, just hadn’t gone out much in recent years.
If having company reassured Xie Qian, so be it.
Looking at her son, Zou Weijun’s gaze softened: as long as Xie Qian was happy, a few houses were nothing.
