The row between Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu spoiled the mood for the Wen family.
Chen Ru had a bellyful of boasts ready, but now she no longer felt like sharing them.
As for the trouble Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu might stir up in the future, Chen Ru’s concern was mostly for show, put on for the Wen relatives.
She wasn’t afraid of that mother-daughter pair.
She and Wen Dongrong had proper jobs, and their family’s prospects were only getting better. Wen Hongyan was lazy and gluttonous, while Shu Lu was skilled at playing the victim. How could they possibly outdo her family?
Especially now that Wen Ying was steadily rising and showing her potential, Chen Ru regarded Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu with even less concern.
If she, whose family outshone theirs in every way, still lived in fear, then her years would have been wasted.
Holding back her boasts now didn’t mean she wouldn’t boast later. Chen Ru was biding her time for a big reveal, waiting for Wen Ying to get into a top university, when she’d let loose and brag to her heart’s content!
When the Wen family praised Wen Ying again, Chen Ru started acting modest, prompting Wen Dongrong to sneak her several glances.
After dinner, the family of three headed back to Rongcheng.
The next day, Wen Ying called Deng Shangwei to discuss buying a second-hand car.
“Uncle, can you keep an eye out for me?”
Deng Shangwei hadn’t treated her like a child for a long time, but hearing her talk about buying a car, he couldn’t help but praise her ambition, “Do you have enough money? Need me to lend you some?”
“No need, just help me look for a car. I’ll buy one once I get the dividend from Shrimp King. My budget’s around fifty thousand.”
Originally, Wen Ying’s budget was twenty or thirty thousand, but after Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu’s fuss, and Old Wen firmly rejecting Wen Hongyan’s demands, Wen Ying doubled her car budget.
In a way, Wen Hongyan had indirectly helped her brother.
Deng Shangwei felt a pang of envy.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford a second-hand car worth a few tens of thousands; the Mazda he drove, handed down from his wife, was worth more than that.
He was jealous of his brother-in-law, Wen Dongrong.
What a considerate daughter!
He wondered if his two sons, when grown and earning money, would think of their old man.
Deng Shangwei shared his envious thoughts with his wife, only to be met with Chen Li’s eye-roll, “Envy? You’re jealous! You only see Wen Ying spending money on her dad, but you don’t think about her distant relationship with him. When Wen Ying has something on her mind, she only talks to you, her uncle.”
It wasn’t Chen Li being presumptuous; Wen Ying’s strained relationship with Wen Dongrong was obvious to anyone with eyes.
Wen Ying didn’t discuss her business ventures with Wen Dongrong, but Deng Shangwei knew about Shrimp King’s operations.
Wen Dongrong only knew about Wen Ying’s award in the New Concept Essay Contest, but did he know she’d been submitting novels to magazines?
When Deng Shangwei faced an “infidelity crisis,” if it had happened to Wen Dongrong, Wen Ying might not have bothered investigating so thoroughly!
Deng Shangwei chuckled at his wife’s words, “I’m not jealous.”
A second-hand car for fifty thousand needed careful picking.
Wen Ying doubled the budget for buying Wen Dongrong a car.
At the Xie family, Xie Yuping also doubled the budget for Zou Weijun to buy land for Xie Qian.
This was a one-time deal for Zou Weijun; Xie Jinghu would surely object to another purchase.
If so, why not buy the most expensive plot within their means?
Zou Weijun said she didn’t have enough money and might need to sell some property, but Xie Yuping cut her off, “No need to sell your house. If the money’s short, take a bank loan, and let the third son repay it.”
Without real industry, Jinhu Group had ample cash flow.
Xie Jinghu had so much money that no one could track his personal funds.
Xie Yuping’s plan was to ensure Xie Jinghu had no money to spend on others. Zou Weijun was silent for a while, and Xie Yuping, aware of her reservations, didn’t push her to confront Xie Jinghu. She only said Xie Qian was already on winter break and should return to Beijing.
“We elders are making plans for him, but he needs to learn to fight for himself.”
Xie Qian was naturally returning to Beijing for the New Year.
Every New Year, the usually busy Xie family gathered, the best time to bond.
Besides, Old Madam Xie missed her grandson, and it wouldn’t do to make her travel to Rongcheng.
With Xie Yuping’s word, Xie Qian needed to head to Beijing early, even before getting his winter break notice, though he didn’t care much, confident as someone who never came second.
Xie Qian had two concerns: Zou Weijun’s health and Wen Ying’s studies.
The psychologist suggested Xie Qian give Zou Weijun more space. Now that she had something to occupy her, her condition, if not improving, shouldn’t worsen.
With that confirmed, Xie Qian’s only worry was Wen Ying’s studies.
Wen Ying was about to write a script for Tianjiao Film, likely taking up most of her winter break. If Xie Qian returned from Beijing to find a backsliding academic failure, even a top student like him would feel exhausted.
Before leaving, Xie Qian stayed up late crafting a winter break study plan for Wen Ying, meeting her only after it was done.
“I’m heading back to Beijing.”
At Xie Qian’s words, Wen Ying jumped in shock.
The butterfly’s wings were flapping again? Was Xie Qian transferring back to Beijing so soon?
Xie Qian couldn’t read her hamster-like expression, but his clear teenage voice carried a hint of well-hidden concern, “You’ll study on your own, right? I know you value the scriptwriting opportunity, but no matter how good the script is, it won’t get you into a top university. You need to prioritise. You know we’ll choose between arts and sciences next term, right? Are you planning to go for arts?”
To get into university through scriptwriting, you’d need a film-related major.
How many top universities offered those?
Setting aside such distant matters, if Wen Ying chose arts, they wouldn’t be classmates next term, as Class 16 wasn’t an arts class.
Wen Ying’s chest heaved, “I thought you were transferring back to Beijing! You scared me. Don’t gasp like that next time. Of course I’m choosing sciences!”
Whether she’d become a lawyer was still undecided, but sciences were a must.
Xie Qian’s mind was too good for arts, though he wouldn’t become a failure even if he chose them. Still, Wen Ying thought it would be a waste.
In her past life, Xie Qian had won awards in both physics and mathematics competitions, prestigious enough to easily secure admission to foreign universities.
Elite schools like Yale might not recognise the New Concept Essay Contest, but they’d value physics and mathematics awards. Literary judgments were subjective, varying by culture, but subjects like physics and mathematics had universal answers, making them more objectively valuable.
“If you’re choosing sciences, follow this plan.”
Xie Qian’s handwritten plan was clear, detailing the winter break study schedule.
Besides reviewing last term’s material, it was time to preview next term’s courses.
In truth, Xie Qian felt it was late to start previewing now, but Wen Ying’s foundation wasn’t strong enough to push faster.
It wasn’t that Xie Qian was strict; at least half of Class 16’s students were ahead of Wen Ying.
That was the standard for a provincial key experimental class.
Even Li Mengjiao, the arts enthusiast, still ranked higher than Wen Ying in the year group, a fact that stung to hear.
Wen Ying clutched Xie Qian’s plan to her chest.
“Are you going back to Beijing because of Aunt Zou buying you land? Xie Qian, money’s important, but people matter more. Take care of yourself!”
The success of this land purchase would determine if they could gain an advantage.
Wen Ying cared about the progress but knew she had no standing to get involved or the right to engage with the Xie family. Xie Qian had to go it alone.
As for advising Zou Weijun on which land to buy or avoid, Wen Ying wasn’t going to play smart.
Her foresight might not apply here.
When it came to national policies and urban planning, the Xie family surely knew more than she did.
She knew what ordinary people saw on the surface; the Xie family saw deeper layers.
Xie Qian nodded slightly, “I know. Take care of yourself too.”
Zhao Dong seemed to have quieted down, but he hadn’t.
His private dealings with Xie Jinghu had deepened.
If Zhao Dong could help Xie Jinghu buy property abroad this time, he could help with other things next time.
As Xie Qian boarded the flight to Beijing, he wondered if the New Year was the right time to expose Xie Jinghu’s purchase of a house for his illegitimate daughter.
Or perhaps he should wait until Xie Jinghu and Zhao Dong’s dealings grew deeper, until he had a bigger card to play.
Xie Qian analysed it like a math problem, concluding he’d “play it by ear.”
After all, he held the trump card, and he could choose when to play it.
Why was he using card games as a metaphor?
Xie Qian calmly thought: It’s all that slacker Wang’s fault. If he hadn’t taught him Rongcheng’s card games, he wouldn’t have such odd metaphors.
Three days after Xie Qian returned to Beijing, Wen Ying went to school to collect her winter break notice.
Two classmates didn’t show up: Xie Qian, who was in Beijing, and Li Mengjiao, who had gone to Hunan. Li Mengjiao’s debut album was complete and set for release. During the break, Yuan Fenghui had her join promotional events. When Yuan Fenghui learned Xu Mei was appearing on Mango TV’s top variety show, she managed to get Li Mengjiao included.
With Li Mengjiao participating, Zhang Yangning naturally joined too.
Xu Mei’s solo spotlight turned into a joint appearance by the top three Super Girls, with filming delayed to the winter break. Xu Mei was furious with Yuan Fenghui.
Yuan Fenghui wasn’t fazed.
Especially after Li Zhentao and two friends founded Tianjiao Film, she was even more confident.
Yuan Fenghui wanted Li Mengjiao to star as the lead!
The script should ideally come from Tianjiao Film to favour Li Mengjiao’s role.
Learning that Li Zhentao had invited Wen Ying to work on the script, Yuan Fenghui didn’t object, waiting for Wen Ying’s break. A screenwriter from Taiwan had already arrived at Tianjiao Film.
Tianjiao Film had five million in registered capital, but none of the three shareholders knew film production. Li Mengjiao was unaware of the company, while Wang Shuang had convinced Wang Jun to intern there.
When the Taiwan screenwriter arrived and found he’d be working with two high schoolers, his confidence faltered.
One was an intern screenwriter, the other an intern producer?
This drama was doomed to flop before it even started.
