The idea came from Xie Qian. As a minor, Wen Ying didn’t have the standing to negotiate with her parents as equals, but two adults could discuss things on level ground.
Though Old Wen’s status as the head of the household was long gone, relegated from the top of the food chain to the bottom, it was exactly this that made Wen Ying’s sweet-talking tactics effective.
If Old Wen were still the unquestioned authority at home, he’d take the sugarcoating and throw the cannonball right back at her.
Now, she wasn’t Lawyer Wen or Screenwriter Wen—she was Wen “Tian Ji” Ying, the strategist of the horse race.
In the Wen household, there were three horses: Manager Chen was the top horse, Wen Ying the middle horse, and Old Wen the bottom horse.
A middle horse racing against a top horse would lose, wasting energy for nothing!
A bottom horse racing against a top horse would also lose, but it could at least tire the top horse out. Then, when the middle horse stepped in, the exhausted top horse would easily surrender.
The plan was perfect, except it half-killed the bottom horse.
Wen Ying wouldn’t just order the bottom—er, her dad—around without reward. She’d provide Old Wen with some “fodder.”
Yuan Fenghui was in a rush, booking a red-eye flight to Hunan that evening, so Wen Ying couldn’t delay and called Old Wen immediately.
“Dad, I need to discuss something with you.”
It was Friday, and Wen Dongrong was driving to a tutoring class when he answered, with Chen Ru in the passenger seat.
“I’m driving, so get to the point!”
Wen Ying rarely called Wen Dongrong主动, and when she did, it was usually something he didn’t want to hear—a pattern that started last summer.
The old Wen Ying was quiet, and Wen Dongrong found her dull and unsharp.
The current Wen Ying wasn’t dull anymore—perhaps a bit too sharp.
Whenever she主动 contacted him, it was bound to dent his authority or dig a pit for him to fall into!
If Wen Ying didn’t also bring him face in front of others while setting him up, Wen Dongrong would’ve long disowned this daughter. Someone else could take her, or he’d pack her off to Old Li at the office to mess with him instead—it’d be fair compensation for years of raising her.
Of course, if Wen Ying kept earning him face and one-upping Old Li, he could grudgingly keep her… Now, Wen Dongrong just wanted to know what she was up to this time.
Chen Ru was curious, “What’s Wen Ying calling you for?”
Hearing her mom’s voice through the phone, Wen Ying instinctively shrank back.
“Dad, I’ll keep it short. I’m going to Hunan this week—tonight’s flight—but I don’t know how to ‘ask for leave’ from Mom. I’m entrusting this to you!”
Hunan, tonight?
Who was she going with, and for what? Wen Dongrong knew nothing, but he could guess Chen Ru’s reaction with his toes. Why should he take the fall for this?
Wen Ying wouldn’t trick him again.
The car purchase mess still hadn’t cleared his name!
“Listen, aren’t you dreaming too big—”
“I’ll secretly give you 500 yuan a month for pocket money!”
Wen Ying spoke lightning-fast. Wen Dongrong choked, glancing guiltily at Chen Ru beside him.
Five hundred yuan a month for pocket money?
There was a time when his monthly cigarette budget was more than that.
Chen Ru used to turn a blind eye to how he spent his money, even when he subsidized the Wen family. Those good days were gone. Now, he was a man who handed over his entire salary, needing to apply for even 500 yuan from his wife.
A man without money can’t hold his head high!
Wen Dongrong cleared his throat, “Don’t talk to me about that. Do you think I’m swayed by small favors… I’m agreeing, not for any other reason, but to help you build a healthy spending mindset, got it? If you don’t, that’s fine—just remember to buy me a leather jacket!”
Wen Ying wanted to say more, but Wen Dongrong, unwilling to hear it, hung up with a snap.
A murderous aura radiated from the passenger seat.
“What did Wen Ying say? Shouldn’t she be home by now? Is she doing her homework? What’s this about a leather jacket? Getting crafty now, aren’t you, Wen?”
Chen Ru’s rapid-fire questions put Wen Dongrong under pressure.
Doing homework at home?
She was probably already on her way to the airport.
But he couldn’t say that yet. Wen Ying hadn’t boarded the plane, and if Chen Ru got mad, she’d drag Wen Ying back before takeoff.
Wen Dongrong feigned impatience, “What could she say? Don’t worry about her. I’m her dad—can’t she buy me a leather jacket? Let’s talk about something serious. What’s your plan for our grad school exams? Are we signing up this year?”
Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong couldn’t study full-time, so they’d have to pursue grad school part-time.
The tutoring teacher estimated registration in July and exams in October.
When Wen Dongrong brought up the exams, Chen Ru’s attention shifted immediately.
This year or not?
Chen Ru hesitated for a while before nodding firmly, “Of course, we’re signing up this year!”
Whether she passed or not, she’d try.
The more high-end clients she dealt with at the bank, the more Chen Ru felt her shortcomings. If she didn’t improve, she’d lose those clients.
Change was urgent.
Waiting until next year might be safer, but next year would bring its own challenges!
…
Slipping Old Wen 500 yuan a month for pocket money.
Yuan Fenghui had just offered Wen Ying a 3,000-yuan part-time salary, and before even seeing the money, she promised 500 to Old Wen.
Her 3,000-yuan salary instantly became 2,500. Wang Shuang might be pleased to hear that.
Wen Ying had long-term plans.
This trip to Hunan was just the start; she might need to travel elsewhere next time. Old Wen covering for her once wasn’t enough—this would eventually come out. When Manager Chen came for her, Old Wen, as her accomplice, would take at least half the heat.
Thinking this way, she was only giving Old Wen one-sixth of her income, yet he’d bear at least half the fallout. What a deal!
As for Old Wen claiming he didn’t know about the part-time job… the 500 yuan a month was evidence, and Manager Chen wouldn’t buy his “excuses”!
With Old Wen as her shield, Wen Ying breezily followed Yuan Fenghui to the airport.
Five hundred yuan was a price she could accept—any more, and she’d feel the pinch.
But Old Wen even asked for a leather jacket.
Wen Ying didn’t mind the cost of the jacket. The more Old Wen demanded, the worse he’d fare when Manager Chen’s wrath came down. The leather jacket could be considered his workplace injury compensation.
What Wen Ying couldn’t fathom was middle-aged men’s taste.
It was April, and he wanted a leather jacket? Truly, middle-aged men could wear leather jackets in every season except summer!
Yuan Fenghui wasn’t just bringing Wen Ying as an assistant to Hunan—she brought Li Mengjiao along too.
On the way, Yuan Fenghui kept coaching Li Mengjiao, urging her to perform well in front of the sponsor.
“You need to play to your strengths, got it?”
Li Mengjiao thought for a moment, “…I’ve practiced dance since I was a kid and can do perfect splits. Should I perform that for them?”
Pfft—
Wen Ying, who was drinking water, couldn’t help but spit it out.
Yuan Fenghui’s eyes blazed, as if she wanted to split this naive girl in half with her glare!
