Qin Xianming’s approval, Yuan Fenghui’s promise, and the crowd’s applause made Wen Ying elated but didn’t cloud her judgment.
Before accepting the honor, she’d considered carefully: Manager Chen and Old Wen knew about her screenwriting, so her name in The Princess’s New Clothes credits wouldn’t shock them.
What was known could stay known.
The key was hiding what wasn’t, like her publishing contract with Zou Weijun under the pen name “Fish Swimming Upstream.” As long as she didn’t slip, her parents wouldn’t know about her alias.
Xie Qian hesitated, sensing risks in Wen Ying’s plans.
Could a family under one roof keep secrets forever?
Wen Ying argued, “I don’t need to hide long—just two years. Once I’m in university, my mom won’t meddle. You don’t know, our relationship’s just improving. My worry isn’t my pen name being exposed but whether I can rank in the top 300 this term… Xie God, I’m counting on you!”
After two days as a test viewer, Wen Ying refocused. Nothing would disrupt her before finals.
Even The Princess’s New Clothes broadcast rights negotiations didn’t concern her.
She was a screenwriter, not Tianjiao’s boss.
Earning 3,000 yuan monthly, she shouldn’t do 30,000-yuan work!
Tianjiao could function without her. Wen Ying admired Yuan Fenghui’s negotiation skills—how she secured that 2.8 million yuan endorsement was a mystery!
On June 9, 2005, the college entrance exam ended.
Qin Jiao, leaving the exam hall, slept over ten hours, truly unwinding.
No one asked about her performance.
Days later, the school held score estimations, and Qin Jiao estimated 701 points.
“Roughly this score, with a five-point margin.”
Above 700 was a different world.
With 706, Qin Jiao could vie for Chengdu’s science champion, if not the province’s.
She could apply to China’s top universities easily.
She’d declined a guaranteed admission, but her strong performance relieved her teachers.
With her exam done, Qin Jiao took over Shrimp King’s management, easing Yang Xi’s load.
With a 700+ scorer like Qin Jiao, Deng Yaomei could ask her for study help. Yang Xi could step back, no longer studying secretly at night.
Yet, despite shedding a burden, Yang Xi felt a faint loss.
At home, seeing her great-grandfather Yang Hong’an’s concerned gaze, Yang Xi displayed her book.
She didn’t want to disappoint Great-Grandpa.
No matter Qin Jiao’s brilliance, she’d leave for university in two months. Then, Yang Xi would guide Deng Yaomei again.
With two solid reasons, Yang Xi convinced herself.
Before the 2005 exam results, Yuan Fenghui secured Yun Chen’s mainland agency contract.
“Before The Princess’s New Clothes sets its price, signing Yun Chen early avoids the modeling agency raising costs.”
If the drama’s ratings soared, Yun Chen’s value would rise.
Despite Yuan Fenghui’s quick move, the modeling agency extracted a sum.
They weren’t fools. With Li Mengjiao’s promotions flooding the mainland, Tianjiao’s interest in Yun Chen signaled profit.
Yuan Fenghui regretted her timing, while Wen Ying was stunned.
She’d recommended Yun Chen to preserve his destined fame, not to reshape his career!
With Yun Chen signed to Tianjiao, would the four-member boy band from her past life form?
Yun Chen debuted, but the other three were uncertain.
Perhaps other Taiwanese newcomers would replace Yun Chen, and the boy band might debut. But whether they’d succeed or to what extent, Wen Ying couldn’t predict.
Yuan Fenghui quietly signed Yun Chen, upsetting Xie Qian.
With Yun Chen at Tianjiao, he’d be in Chengdu often.
Given Wen Ying’s focus, studying was hard enough without chasing stars. A Taiwanese model added variables.
Xie Qian disliked disruptions but couldn’t complain, so Wen Ying received extra practice papers.
She thought Xie Qian was spurred by Qin Jiao’s 701-point estimate.
Wen Ying wanted to cry.
Her male god overestimated her—she’d never dreamed of scoring 700 in either lifetime!
This year marked Sichuan’s exam reform, shifting from score estimation to applying after results.
On June 18, over ten top universities, including Peking, Tsinghua, and Renmin, held consultations at Provincial Key and Chengdu No. 9 to guide applications, competing for Chengdu’s best candidates.
With an estimated 701 and solid grades, Qin Jiao was a prime target.
Seeing Qin Jiao handle Peking before Tsinghua, Xie Qian asked Wen Ying, “Jealous?”
Wen Ying shook her head, “Not at all. I don’t plan to go to Beijing. Peking and Tsinghua aren’t on my list.”
As if you’d get in if they were!
If Wang Shuang said this, Xie Qian would’ve roasted him. For Wen Ying, he held back, asking, “If not Beijing, where?”
“Shanghai!”
Wen Ying blurted out, laughing.
Yes, she wanted Shanghai.
Where she’d fought in her past life.
Not her lost river-view apartment calling her—an indescribable urge.
Perhaps she’d grown used to Shanghai’s pace?
Her Shanghai was 2013–2019, holding her best six years.
Fine, this hamster had a goal.
Shanghai was no less than Beijing.
China had more top schools than Tsinghua and Peking.
He owned land and a logistics company in Shanghai.
His cousin Xie Tang’s boyfriend was from Shanghai, and she planned to settle there. He had plenty of ties to Shanghai.
