“Lily, real name Pan Li, third-year student at the Music Academy.”
“Yu Wenhao…”
The first message from Detective Luo contained Lily and Wenhao’s personal info. Before Wen Ying could reply, a second message arrived.
“Can we meet to discuss in detail?”
Wen Ying thought for a moment and texted back, “Tomorrow, 8 a.m., Qingshi Bridge Seafood Market entrance. I’ll treat you to noodles.”
Detective Luo agreed, and Wen Ying tossed her pager aside.
She figured he’d uncovered something too sensitive for texts and wanted to talk face-to-face.
She didn’t press for more.
Asking now would ruin her focus for studying tonight.
At 10 p.m., after Deng Yaomei finished her chores, Wen Ying dragged her into the room for tutoring.
Her confidence, battered by three tutors in math, physics, and chemistry, roared back to life with Deng Yaomei.
Not that she enjoyed putting Yaomei down—she genuinely wanted her to try.
When Deng Yaomei couldn’t solve a problem, tears welled up. “Xiao Ying, I’m dumb. I can’t do it.”
Wen Ying opened the book. “No, if I can’t teach you, I’m the dumb one. There’s no bad student, just teachers who haven’t found the right method. Yaomei, starting tonight, follow Teacher Wen’s plan.”
Teacher Wen saw Yaomei’s issue wasn’t intelligence—it was confidence.
She kept it simple, giving Yaomei easy problems. Stumbling at first, Yaomei solved them and was so thrilled she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Dumb? You’re smart! You get it as soon as I teach you!” Wen Ying brainwashed her.
Deng Yaomei wavered.
Could Wen Ying be right? Was she not dumb, just poorly taught before?
She shook her head—no, it wasn’t the teachers’ fault. She’d been too slow. Now, though, it was Wen Ying’s patience—teaching one-on-one instead of dozens—that made the difference.
Yaomei stayed in Wen Ying’s room until 11, leaving with a smile. Even in sleep, thinking of the problems Wen Ying gave her, her lips curved upward.
Simple-minded Yaomei dozed off fast. Wen Ying, weighed down by too many thoughts, studied until 2 a.m. before shutting off the light.
Next morning, she didn’t wait for Deng Shangwei, heading out early under the guise of “building independence.”
She didn’t take a bus to Qingshi Bridge—there was time, so she walked.
Out of shape, she arrived panting.
It’d been over ten days since the entrance exam. She’d cut out fried, sugary, fatty foods, even dropping from two bowls of rice to one. She felt slimmer, but her loose flesh hid the change.
Moderate dieting wasn’t harmful—she wasn’t starving, just eating healthier.
But diet alone wasn’t enough. Exercise was key.
Even beyond weight loss, her current stamina was pitiful. Without fitness and discipline, how could she juggle everything?
Waiting at the noodle shop, she saw Detective Luo cross the street at 7:55.
Rongcheng noodle joints loved setting tables on the sidewalk—especially in summer, when indoor heat drove people to the shady, breezy outdoors. In 2004, city management turned a blind eye to this, and Wen Ying was used to it.
Luo didn’t let her pay. Tight as money was for him, he could cover this.
Under the trees, they ate. Worried about spoiling her appetite, he waited until she finished to get to business.
The “old spot” the fishmongers mentioned was a nightlife joint near JiuYan Bridge called “Slow Bar.”
After pegging Wenhao as a hardcore hustler, Luo eased off tailing him, focusing on Pan Li instead.
“Yesterday, Pan Li went to the hospital—OB-GYN department,” Luo said.
Wen Ying’s neck stiffened.
Luo hesitated, regretting this talk with a minor.
But she was his client. With a signed agreement, she deserved the findings first. Staring at the empty noodle bowl, he added, “Pan Li’s pregnant.”
“…My uncle’s?”
“Not confirmed, but brace yourself—it’s likely. You said someone’s setting him up. They’d need leverage. Her pregnancy could be Wen哥’s trump card over your uncle. From what I know, Pan Li doesn’t have a boyfriend at school.”
Luo had seen it all.
Men cheating, mistresses getting pregnant—some even had bastards older than their legit kids.
He’d checked Deng Shangwei’s rep at Qingshi Bridge Seafood Market—a known family man who adored his wife.
To a kid, that’s a saintly image.
Luo braced for Wen Ying’s breakdown. After a pause, nothing.
He looked up—her eyes were gleaming.
“You’ve got proof Wenhao and Pan Li are tight? You think Wenhao’s the mastermind?”
“They’re close. Last night, after the hospital, Pan Li skipped work at Slow Bar and met Yu Wenhao at a BBQ stall. They whispered for ages. He had guys with him—I couldn’t get close enough to hear.”
Was Pan Li’s baby Deng Shangwei’s?
A college girl working nightlife—Wen Ying didn’t peg her as pure.
If Pan Li could seduce Deng Shangwei, why not Wenhao too?
Who knew whose kid it was?
Recalling Deng Shangwei yesterday—calm, not jittery or elated—he didn’t act like a man who’d just learned his fling was pregnant.
If it was his, why didn’t Pan Li tell him right after the hospital? Money or commitment—it’d be her ace.
Wen Ying saw two possibilities. First: the kid wasn’t Deng Shangwei’s, and they hadn’t hooked up yet—framing him wouldn’t work. Pan Li, still chasing him, would hide the pregnancy to keep her image.
Second: they’d slept together, but Pan Li had multiple men and didn’t know whose it was, so she consulted Wenhao.
The first was ideal—saving Chen Li and Deng Shangwei’s marriage would be a breeze.
The second? Like swallowing a fly—disgusting.
