Xie Jinghu came and went like the wind.
Xie Qian stood in place, chuckling silently.
What a pity such a chance only comes once, or he’d have seen Mr. Xie change his expression a few more times.
Xie Tang approached, full of worry: “Is Third Uncle very angry?”
If he’d beaten Xie Qian, that anger might have been vented. But without laying a hand, the resentment would fester. If father and son could once maintain a surface-level peace, now even that was gone—no trust left. Third Uncle would guard against his own son like a thief… but it’s not Xie Qian’s fault. If Third Uncle hadn’t gone chasing women outside, how could their family of three have grown so distant?
Xie Tang had a basic sense of right and wrong. Even Xie Yuping approved of the land purchase, and Xie Tang didn’t think Xie Qian was wrong.
Something must have happened to make Xie Qian so urgent.
Xie Tang felt sorry for him.
In his teenage years, meant for carefree study, Xie Qian was burdened with such matters.
“It’s fine, he didn’t hit me even if he’s angry.”
Xie Qian comforted Xie Tang.
Eggplant Spirit Peng Guoqing sidled over, all humility: “Xie Qian, did you really steal two hundred million from your dad?”
Peng Guoqing had lost any thought of mocking Xie Qian; he just wanted to confirm the story.
Xie Qian denied it outright: “Of course it’s fake.”
Peng Guoqing felt a twinge of disappointment. So it wasn’t true? Everyone thought it was!
“But I clearly heard… hey, you all heard it too, right?”
Several young people nodded vigorously, eyes fixed on Xie Qian.
Xie Qian corrected Peng Guoqing: “First, it’s just shy of two hundred million; second, it’s not stealing, it’s reasonable use.”
Reasonable use, my foot.
They weren’t blind—Mr. Xie was clearly furious.
But with that said, the story was indeed true!
Whether Mr. Xie banished Xie Qian didn’t matter. What mattered was that Xie Qian had secured two hundred million. Who knew about the future—inheritance or not, nothing beat two hundred million in hand. Xie Qian was only in high school, with two hundred million to spend—how would he use it?
Peng Guoqing put himself in Xie Qian’s shoes, thrilled to death. If he had two hundred million now, he’d be the top dog in the capital, with people fawning over him from Qianmen Street to Shichahai!
When Peng Guoqing snapped out of it, Xie Qian and Xie Tang were gone. He slapped his thigh: “Why didn’t you keep Xie Qian here longer?”
The young people exchanged glances.
They’d been stunned too!
When Peng Guoqing returned to the party, no one focused on the birthday star. Instead, they buzzed about Xie Qian stealing two hundred million from his dad.
The young crowd at the party included those from happy families and those with deep family conflicts. The latter envied Xie Qian—none of them could “steal” two hundred million from home.
If they had that ability, why would they waste time fooling around?
…
Xie Qian and Zou Weijun’s move caused big trouble for Xie Jinghu.
First, the money in Zou Weijun’s hands was meant for Dai Chenglan’s factory investment. Now gone, Xie Jinghu had to use Jinhu Group’s funds. Using personal funds only needed his nod, but company funds required explaining to other shareholders, with前期 investigations and complex procedures. Dai Chenglan might get the money a month or two later than expected.
Could Dai Chenglan wait?
Second, Xie Qian said he’d spend the money on whoever he wanted—was he hinting at something?
Did Xie Qian know something, or was he bluffing?
If Dai Chenglan’s investment was delayed, Zhao Dong’s would be too.
What frustrated Xie Jinghu most was that Xie Qian used Zou Weijun’s savings to buy land and left Xie Jinghu to repay a hundred million loan. Where would he get a hundred million in cash? The loan wasn’t a lump sum repayment but installments, yet even so, a hundred million with interest was a huge burden.
He couldn’t use company money to repay it.
Using personal funds meant relying on annual dividends or selling some stocks. A hundred million loan would drain his personal cash flow for the next two or three years, limiting his ability to support affairs abroad.
Xie Jinghu wasn’t sure if Xie Qian’s move was accidental or deliberate, leaving him conflicted.
More worrying, this was just the start. He once trusted Zou Weijun, but now she was at war with him… From now on, he’d face her attacks.
Zou Weijun herself wasn’t a threat. Even healthy, she didn’t understand the company. If Xie Jinghu wanted, he could transfer most joint assets, leaving her an empty shell—provided no one oversaw him!
Now, the Xie family backed Zou Weijun, recognizing only Xie Qian. He couldn’t even transfer assets.
—Was divorce the only solution?
That day, Xie Jinghu thought of divorce for the second time.
Forget his brother Xie Yuping and his mother’s reactions to a divorce proposal. Even if they agreed, how could he minimize or avoid splitting assets with Zou Weijun?
Xie Jinghu sank into thought.
…
Far in the capital, Xie Jinghu was cementing his “scum dad” image, while Xie Qian earned a legendary reputation in their circle for “stealing two hundred million.” For a long time, Peng Guoqing and others even nicknamed him “Xie Two Hundred Million.”
In Rongcheng, with Xie Jinghu as a foil, Wen Dongrong’s image grew oddly endearing.
Though Old Wen was often bureaucratic, pretentious, and vain, after Wen Ying returned from the New Concept Essay Contest in Shanghai, she viewed his flaws with more tolerance.
Because Old Wen stood firm against Wen Hongyan and Shu Lu’s mother-daughter duo, Wen Ying decided to buy him a used car to solve his and Chen Ru’s weekend marriage issue.
Wen Ying asked her uncle Deng Shangwei to help pick a used car within a fifty-thousand budget.
Finding the best deal within that limit took Deng Shangwei some effort.
First, he ruled out Santana.
Deng Shangwei’s old car was a Santana, deemed low-class by bosses. After Chen Li bought a new car, Deng Shangwei took her old Mazda, and the Santana was scrapped.
Buying a scrapped model for his brother-in-law Wen Dongrong would likely upset him.
Deng Shangwei didn’t want family drama, neither in his own home nor Wen Ying’s, especially after finally enjoying some peace.
He considered a used Xiali, but many taxis were Xialis. Wen Dongrong, prideful, wouldn’t accept being on par with taxi drivers.
A new car was possible, but with a fifty-thousand budget, it’d be a mini car like an Alto or a van… Before the Spring Festival, Deng Shangwei completed Wen Ying’s task, finding a used Fukang, cleaned inside and out to look nearly new, and brought it to her.
“How’s this car?”
Deng Shangwei raised his chin, ready for praise.
Wen Ying circled the car twice, checked the dashboard—if the mileage wasn’t tampered with, it was practically new.
Fukang 1.6-AXC. Wen Ying had checked market prices when planning to buy for Old Wen. A new one, with taxes, cost nearly eighty thousand. Unsure of her script earnings then, she couldn’t spend that much.
The car suited family use. Except for being manual, which Wen Ying disliked, it balanced economy and utility—good for commuting, holidays, or visiting relatives, with reliable after-sales and low repair costs.
“Uncle, this car’s so new, didn’t it go over budget?”
With under three thousand kilometers on the dashboard, it was basically new.
Wen Ying estimated it cost at least sixty thousand. She didn’t mind Deng Shangwei overspending, but she couldn’t let him cover it.
Deng Shangwei grinned: “Not only within budget, I saved you five thousand!”
Wen Ying was skeptical.
Deng Shangwei explained: “A friend in the used car business got this car. As soon as it arrived, I spotted it, added two thousand for his fee.”
Between selling and buying used cars, dealers take a cut unless it’s a direct deal. The seller, desperate for cash, sold the Fukang cheaply to the dealer. Deng Shangwei added two thousand and treated his friend to dinner to secure it.
Deng Shangwei sighed: “The seller gambled, lost, borrowed from loan sharks, and had to sell fast. Otherwise, no way this near-new car goes for just over forty thousand!”
Families buying economy cars aren’t wealthy. A car might take years to afford, but a gambler sold it quickly.
Gambling is so destructive!
The car was faultless, and Wen Ying was pleased with the deal.
Deng Shangwei asked casually: “Did you tell your mom about buying the car?”
Wen Ying froze.
Did she?
She meant to.
Not Old Wen, lest he get cocky, but definitely Manager Chen.
But after returning to Rongcheng, she got busy writing scripts, revising, submitting, managing Shrimp King accounts, discussing a company with friends, squeezing in winter homework and pre-Spring Festival manuscripts… She forgot to tell her mom!
Seeing her expression, Deng Shangwei understood instantly. Knowing Chen Ru’s temper, he unceremoniously shoved the car keys to Wen Ying.
“…Cough, I’ve got something to do, I’m off. Registration can wait till after the New Year!”
