Zhong Yong considered himself worldly, yet Zou Weijun’s nonchalance stunned him.
Third Madam Xie spoke of buying land as casually as buying a pound of dates or a packet of snacks.
But was buying land so simple?
This was Shanghai, not some backwater town. Land prices here were so steep even Zhong Yong found them daunting.
Without company housing, Zhong Yong could never afford a Beijing flat on his salary. Shanghai and Beijing, the country’s two hubs, had sky-high land prices. Buying land wasn’t like buying a house—money alone sufficed for a house, but land involved complex procedures. Even with Zhong Yong in Shanghai, or Xie Yuping himself, purchasing land wasn’t a matter of just talking it over.
Of course, Xie Yuping would never make such a request.
Unsure of Zou Weijun’s intentions, Zhong Yong asked, “How big a plot are you looking for, and for what purpose?”
Perhaps he’d misunderstood. Maybe Third Madam Xie meant buying a few acres to hold for Xie Qian to build on later—a rustic landlord’s way of securing a son’s future, showing her maternal devotion.
To Zhong Yong’s question, Zou Weijun shook her head.
“I want to buy, but it depends on the Shanghai government’s willingness to sell. This can’t be done quickly. Staying here is a waste of time; we’ll head back and figure it out.”
Zhong Yong’s heart sank.
That tone didn’t sound like buying just a few acres.
Responsibly, he advised, “Shouldn’t you discuss this with the boss?”
If Zou Weijun was acting on impulse, Xie Yuping could temper her enthusiasm.
Zou Weijun smiled and nodded, “Xiao Zhong, thank you. These past days have been tough on you. I’ll discuss this not only with Xie Qian’s uncle but also with Xie Qian himself. We’ll buy once we’re all aligned.”
Good.
Zhong Yong sighed in relief.
He wasn’t meddling in how Third Madam Xie spent her money, but he knew she’d moved to Rongcheng for health reasons. While he wasn’t fully versed in depression’s symptoms, she still saw a therapist weekly.
In a fragile mental state, people could make rash decisions.
With the boss and Young Master Xie watching, he needn’t worry.
But Zou Weijun mentioned consulting Xie Yuping and Xie Qian, not a word about Xie Jinghu. Zhong Yong pretended not to notice.
Zou Weijun appreciated Zhong Yong’s diligence. He’d accompany her back to Rongcheng, then fly to Beijing. When their plane landed in Rongcheng, she handed him a large bag:
“Thanks for running around with me. I heard you’re getting married soon. I can’t attend your wedding, so this is a gift for you and your fiancée.”
After years of work, Zhong Yong had secured company housing and was set to marry his long-time girlfriend.
He hadn’t expected Zou Weijun to know.
He tried to decline, but she insisted, shoving the bag into his hands.
Her two caregivers arrived to pick her up, and she waved goodbye.
Zhong Yong stood for a moment, then opened the bag. Inside was a stylish women’s handbag and a skincare set.
They were beyond his usual spending but not so extravagant as to alarm him.
Reporting to Xie Yuping, he mentioned the gift. Xie Yuping told him to keep it.
“It’s your travel allowance. Take it.”
The bag and skincare set were worth nearly ten thousand yuan—a hefty allowance.
Cleared by Xie Yuping, Zhong Yong accepted it.
When Xie Yuping asked about Zou Weijun’s mood, Zhong Yong said honestly, “Much better than last time I was in Rongcheng.”
Indeed, she was much improved.
Zou Weijun wasn’t some unsophisticated woman. After Xie Jinghu’s rise, she’d handled the role of “Mrs. Xie” adeptly, never faltering in social dealings. Only in recent years had she withdrawn, slowly isolating herself.
Now, seeing her handle business in Shanghai, she seemed to regain her former poise.
When Zhong Yong mentioned her plan to buy land, Xie Yuping didn’t dismiss it but seriously considered its feasibility.
Buying land for Xie Qian?
It wasn’t impossible.
When Wen Ying learned of this through Xie Qian, it was after final exams.
On the last day, Xie Qian mentioned it casually. Wen Ying, exhausted from exams, perked up instantly: “Auntie Zou wants to buy you land?”
Had she misheard “house” for “land”?
Xie Qian nodded, “It’s not decided yet, just an idea.”
Wen Ying was more excited than Xie Qian himself, “Buy it if you can! What’s there to hesitate about?”
Good heavens, Zou Weijun was buying land for Xie Qian!
Jinhu Group hadn’t ventured into real estate yet. Compared to other major firms, Jinhu was late to the game. Shanghai wasn’t what it was a decade ago; high-value plots were mostly snapped up by foreign consortiums, with commercial land prices daunting even domestic firms. If Jinhu had the capital, entering now, though late, could still be profitable.
Recalling that in her past life, Jinhu Real Estate’s head was “President Zhuo,” Wen Ying felt uneasy, fearing Zou Weijun’s land purchase might benefit someone else.
Never one to mince words with Xie Qian, she voiced her concern. Xie Qian looked at her oddly: “Why would you think that? Do you think my mum’s a fool?”
Zou Weijun was no fool.
A fool couldn’t raise a son as sharp as Xie Qian.
She was just sensitive and refined, a quintessential artistic housewife.
“You mean…” Wen Ying began.
“My mum will buy it in my name,” Xie Qian said.
Wen Ying’s worry turned to joy, “Auntie Zou’s thought of everything!”
Zou Weijun’s money was marital property.
Even if she acquired vast assets, in a divorce, Xie Jinghu could demand half. Her properties would count as marital assets.
The notion that the cheating party leaves with nothing was false; the Marriage Law had no such provision.
In court, judges might award less to the at-fault party, not strip them entirely.
If Zou Weijun registered the land under someone else’s name, Xie Jinghu could claim she was hiding marital assets.
But giving it to Xie Qian was fine.
Xie Qian was their legitimate son.
In court, it’s a family matter, and judges would likely mediate.
A mother buying property for her son was normal. If the father disagreed… who knew what he thought initially? Judges wouldn’t delve into family squabbles.
To buy land, a company must be set up to bid.
Xie Qian, not yet eighteen, couldn’t be a corporate representative but could be a shareholder. Zou Weijun, able to afford land, would find help to make Xie Qian the majority shareholder.
Wen Ying’s concern now was Shanghai’s land sale regulations. The old practice of buying land to sit idle and appreciate was obsolete. Purchased land had to be developed within a set period; long-term hoarding wasn’t allowed.
This was one of Shanghai’s measures to curb rapid housing price spikes.
She recalled a two-year development deadline.
Two years from now, Xie Qian wouldn’t even have graduated high school. How would he manage?
Wen Ying was half-thrilled, half-worried.
Xie Qian, hearing her concerns, seemed unfazed and asked how she knew so much.
Wen Ying laughed, “The agent told me! That Sister Yao was really responsible. I recommended her to Auntie Zou.”
Xie Qian wasn’t convinced.
Agents likely didn’t expect Wen Ying to buy a house, and while explaining property policies was normal, discussing land policies was unlikely.
He didn’t think of “rebirth” but felt he’d read Wen Ying right: except for studying, Hamster excelled at everything else.
…
Xie Qian’s “studying’s not her strength” was relative. To most, attending a provincial key school’s experimental class meant Wen Ying was already exceptional.
Among the Wen family, she was the model of someone who’d bided her time and was now shining.
After finals, Chen Ru took Wen Ying back to their hometown.
Since her summer job transfer, Chen Ru hadn’t returned home, citing Wen Ying’s studies. With finals over, not going back was unjustifiable.
Having eased tensions with Wen Dongrong, with no divorce plans, as a couple, Chen Ru couldn’t ignore the Wen family.
With his wife and daughter returning, Wen Dongrong, despite a busy year-end, cleaned the house in advance.
He wasn’t incapable of housework; Chen Ru had spoiled him before. Living alone, the house looked tidy enough.
But a home meant for three felt empty with just Wen Dongrong. Returning in winter, Chen Ru and Wen Ying found it desolate. Wen Dongrong hadn’t caused trouble lately, but leaving him alone felt like he had no wife. Wen Ying felt a pang of guilt.
Long-term weekend marriage would strain their relationship.
But Chen Ru’s career was thriving in Rongcheng. Even without accompanying Wen Ying, she wouldn’t transfer back.
Wen Dongrong’s job was less flexible; Chen Ru could move within her system, but his transfer wasn’t easy.
Moving from a county city to the provincial capital wasn’t a transfer—it was a promotion.
Though Wen Ying had changed much in this life, she couldn’t guarantee Wen Dongrong’s promotion.
Resolving their weekend marriage wasn’t realistic through a promotion, but better transportation was feasible.
The high-speed rail from Rongcheng to their hometown wouldn’t open until 2018. Chen Ru planned to buy a car in a couple of years. Wen Ying, thinking of her “Shrimp King” year-end dividends, felt she could help get a car sooner.
Spending all her earnings on a car for Wen Dongrong? Wen Ying wasn’t willing. With that money, she’d rather pool it for a house, which had greater appreciation potential. She aimed to seize Shanghai’s housing price dip in late 2005.
—New cars were too pricey. A used one, she’d buy for Old Wen.
