Deng Shangwei knew he was doomed!
That’s how it plays out in TV dramas—the more secrets you know, the quicker you die. Last time, he barely managed to dodge the blame for buying a car, escaping the first hurdle but not the fifteenth. Now, he was the first to know how much Wen Ying could earn, that she dared to invest in a TV drama—secrets she hadn’t even told her parents. This kind of trust was a death sentence!
Deng Shangwei wanted to yell for his wife to save him.
But the words stuck in his throat, swallowed back.
He was a responsible man; he shouldn’t drag his wife into this.
“Uncle?”
“Little ancestor, stop calling me! Give me a moment to calm down!”
A giant wok had crashed down from the sky, trapping him tightly. Deng Shangwei was now a turtle flipped on its back at the bottom, unable to move, his thoughts sluggish, his brain jammed and refusing to work!
He wanted to kick the wok over, but the one who’d trapped him was Wen Ying, whom he’d cherished for over a decade.
What was he doing at Wen Ying’s age?
Oh, passing notes to Chen Li, the girl in front of him, to borrow an eraser.
Chen Ru always said they were dating and neglecting studies, but high schoolers back then were innocent. Who dared to break that thin veil? Liking someone was kept hidden, and borrowing an eraser from a girl was already bold… Wait, his thoughts were wandering. Pull them back!
At Wen Ying’s age, let alone 500,000 yuan, he didn’t even have 5 yuan in his pocket.
His family was poor. He had no allowance for school, carrying rice from home to trade for meal vouchers, then eating at the school canteen.
Deng Shangwei knew what money was, but he’d never spent it.
If his family gave him 5 yuan, he could hoard it forever.
It was unimaginable that a high schooler could earn 500,000 yuan on their own.
This scriptwriting fee was different from the money made from Shrimp King, a business shared by several people, each contributing. The scriptwriting fee was Wen Ying’s own intellectual creation.
She earned 500,000 yuan and didn’t say a word, not even to her parents.
Other high schoolers would’ve bragged to their parents by now.
Wen Ying could hold it in.
Not only could she keep quiet, she could resist spending it. She took her scriptwriting earnings and invested them in Tianjiao Film and Television’s drama!
Taking money from Tianjiao, then investing it back into their dramas—money making money, an endless cycle.
With such talent and business sense, what could her parents possibly worry about?
It took Deng Shangwei a while to recover before he curiously asked Wen Ying, “If your drama investment pays off, how do you plan to spend it? Keep investing in new dramas?”
“Buy a house! I want to buy my mum a place in Shanghai. I think she really likes it there. Uncle, if you have some spare savings, you could buy a couple of places in Shanghai too. It’s a first-tier city, a financial hub—buying property there won’t lose money. If you don’t like Shanghai, buy in Beijing, it’s about the same! Even if you and Auntie don’t live there, you can leave them for Deng Jie and Deng Hao.”
Deng Shangwei had barely started, and Wen Ying rattled off a barrage of words.
Buy property in Shanghai or Beijing?
Chengdu’s property speculation wasn’t hot.
Even someone like Wang Jun, ahead of the curve, only speculated on local Chengdu properties, not just for profit but because his son Wang Shuang was unreliable. Wang Jun lacked faith in his son taking over the family business, so he bought more real estate, fearing his spendthrift son might starve himself one day.
If Wang Jun was like that, Deng Shangwei was even less aware.
When Wen Ying suggested buying in Shanghai or Beijing, his focus wasn’t on the advice but on her original plan.
His tone turned serious, “Forget coaxing your mum. Don’t mention buying her a place in Shanghai. A house isn’t like cosmetics or clothes—it’s too valuable. Buying in Shanghai would cost hundreds of thousands at least. I don’t think your mum would be happy receiving it.”
Parents come in all types.
Some raise kids just for their own retirement.
They skimp on raising them but demand the most in return.
Adult or not, if a minor buys them a house, they’d brag everywhere.
But some parents… well, like Chen Ru, Wen Ying’s mum, stubborn and proud. She already disapproved of Wen Ying doing anything beyond studying. If Wen Ying slapped down hundreds of thousands or millions for a house, Chen Ru wouldn’t be pleased.
That’s a slap in the face!
Deng Shangwei considered himself open-minded, but putting himself in Chen Ru’s shoes, he found it hard to accept.
If his daughter could buy him a house while still in high school, he’d feel utterly useless.
A useless parent forces a child to grow up too fast.
Look what it’s done to the kid!
Worried Wen Ying wouldn’t take it seriously, Deng Shangwei stressed, “I didn’t object to you buying your dad a car because a high schooler getting a windfall of tens of thousands, while rare, is explainable. Tens of thousands is your mum’s limit. When it becomes hundreds of thousands, she can’t handle it. Xiao Ying, you’re still young. Even if you showed this kind of brilliance after starting university, your mum wouldn’t react like she does now… You’re putting pressure on her, you know? She doesn’t want to be outdone by her child. She doesn’t want to lose her voice in front of you. She’s already trying hard to improve herself, but you need to give her more time.”
Deng Shangwei, usually biased toward Wen Ying, stood with Chen Ru this time.
Wen Ying was smart, but she’d never been a parent. She couldn’t see things from Chen Ru’s perspective, but Deng Shangwei could!
His serious tone made Wen Ying drop her playful attitude.
“Uncle, you mean—”
“I mean, you can buy houses for yourself, as many as you want, but don’t buy one for your mum. If you don’t want your relationship with her to worsen, follow my advice. Not just that—hide the fact you earned this much and invested in a drama.”
Hide it until when?
Until she’s in university!
Most parents view their high school and university kids very differently.
Deng Shangwei was rarely this stern, and Wen Ying knew he wasn’t joking.
This upended her plans.
She wanted to be an honest ‘child’ with her parents, but Deng Shangwei advised against too much honesty.
Had she really put that much pressure on Manager Chen?
“Uncle, let me think it over.”
“Alright, take your time.”
Deng Shangwei wasn’t in a rush.
He’d told Wen Ying to hide her 500,000 yuan earnings, even more large incomes like it. He believed Wen Ying wouldn’t stop at one 500,000-yuan script—she’d write more!
This idea came from him, so he’d bear the pressure.
If Wen Ying ignored his advice, it was instant execution.
If she followed it, it was a stay of execution.
Deng Shangwei felt pain and joy.
On one hand, he was proud of Wen Ying.
On the other, he just wanted to be a simple, clueless “uncle.”
Heaven gave him a chance, and he didn’t take it. He boldly tried to be Wu Song slaying a tiger, but he was wrong—he was only fit to serve the tiger’s meal!
