Chen Ru didn’t snap out of her daze until she was on the bus.
The old lady had always favored Wen Kai above all else!
Chen Ru still remembered when she gave birth to Wen Ying. Grandma Wen had come from the countryside to the hospital with a basket of eggs. Upon hearing Chen Ru had a daughter, the old lady didn’t outright scowl but instead whispered mysteriously that Chen Ru could send Wen Ying back to the village to be raised. As long as they didn’t register her, no one would know Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong had a child, and they could try again for a son.
Back then, the one-child policy was strictly enforced. If Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong wanted a second child, they’d both lose their jobs.
Sending a child to the countryside as an unregistered “black household” or claiming the baby died at birth—some couples desperate for a son did take that risk.
Grandma Wen thought she was being helpful, but Chen Ru wasn’t having it. The Wen family wasn’t some wealthy clan that needed a son to carry on the legacy, was it?
At the time, only Wen Dongrong had made it to the city; the rest of the Wen family were still farmers in the countryside. Telling Chen Ru to dump her own daughter in the village to grow up rolling in the mud? She’d rather stuff the kid back in her womb.
Chen Ru refused flat-out.
Grandma Wen, oblivious to her daughter-in-law’s signals, pressed on stubbornly. “If you don’t have a son, what’ll you and Dongrong do later? Girls grow up and marry into other families—only a son can care for you in old age…”
The child was a piece of her own flesh, carried for ten months, bound by blood and bone. Fresh from childbirth, flooded with hormones and fiercely protective, Chen Ru shot down every suggestion Grandma Wen made.
Unable to sway Chen Ru, Grandma Wen managed to shake Wen Dongrong a little.
Thanks to the old lady’s meddling, Chen Ru didn’t even get a proper postpartum recovery. She argued with Wen Dongrong several times, yelling that if he really wanted a son, he could divorce her and marry someone else—have as many kids as he liked!
Divorce wasn’t an option, though. A decade ago, Wen Dongrong didn’t have the status he did now. Chen Ru’s family was far better off than his, and he worked a government job. Divorcing his wife over wanting a son would’ve branded him as backward-thinking.
After a few fights, the couple aligned their stance. No matter how much Grandma Wen prodded, sending Wen Ying to the countryside fizzled out.
That incident left a rift between Chen Ru and her mother-in-law. Years later, when Wen Ying was a toddler and both Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong faced promotion opportunities, Chen Ru’s parents were in poor health. She had to swallow her pride and ask Grandma Wen to help look after Wen Ying. Unfortunately, it coincided with Wen Ying’s uncle moving his family to the city. Country folk in an urban setting struggled at every turn, and Grandma Wen, weighing her options, decided her eldest son’s family needed her help more. She turned Chen Ru down.
Wen Kai, three years older than Wen Ying, got the old lady’s care while Wen Ying was left out—irrefutable proof of her “favoring boys over girls”!
Yet this same biased Grandma Wen had just handed Chen Ru two thousand yuan, calling it an early wedding red envelope for Wen Ying. Clearly, she’d heard it’d cost tens of thousands to get Wen Ying into a provincial key school and, worried Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong might be strapped, chipped in to help her granddaughter’s education.
Two thousand yuan—less than Chen Ru’s monthly salary.
But Grandma Wen no longer farmed in the countryside and had no income, unlike city retirees with pensions. Her money came from what her children gave her, hoarded over time because she couldn’t bear to spend it.
Chen Ru knew her mother-in-law had some savings, but she’d never imagined the old lady would spend it on Wen Ying.
Wen Ying wasn’t the Wen family’s heir to carry on the line, after all!
Chen Ru’s emotions were a tangle. It wasn’t until they were nearly in Rongcheng that she muttered, “I don’t know what’s gotten into your mom today. She’s the one who said Wen Ying’s education is a waste, yet she’s also the one who gave me two thousand yuan.”
Wen Dongrong, the filial son, didn’t like hearing this and frowned. “Can you ease up a bit? You’re the one always saying Mom favors boys, but now that she’s willing to pitch in for Wen Ying’s key school, you’re questioning her motives.”
Chen Ru was choked silent, unable to argue back.
Back at home, she’d hesitated to take Grandma Wen’s money. But then she thought—Wen Ying wasn’t some illegitimate child; she was a Wen too. If Wen Ying didn’t use it, wouldn’t it all go to Wen Kai?
Having taken the money, though, she couldn’t badmouth her mother-in-law anymore—her hands were tied.
Chen Ru stewed in frustration all the way to Rongcheng, where she and Wen Dongrong headed straight to Chen Li’s place.
They arrived before ten o’clock.
Deng Shangwei was out dropping the kids at school and hadn’t returned. Only Chen Li and the nanny, Deng Yaomei, were home.
Wen Dongrong plopped onto the sofa with an air of authority, and Deng Yaomei quietly brought tea, moving carefully.
Wen Dongrong carried a bureaucratic “official aura” that made Deng Yaomei tread lightly.
Chen Ru scanned the room and asked Chen Li, “Where’s Wen Ying?”
“She’s at tutoring today—won’t be back till noon. I heard scores come out at ten. Not sure if we’ll get through on the phone later.”
Chen Li’s concern was something Chen Ru had already planned for.
Her solution: everyone in the family dials the score hotline at once—someone’s bound to connect.
Wen Dongrong took a sip of tea. “Checking a few minutes early or late won’t change anything. The scores are set.”
Among the four in the living room, only Wen Dongrong seemed calm.
Chen Li rolled her eyes inwardly. If he wasn’t anxious, why take a day off to come to Rongcheng?
Wen Dongrong loved putting on airs, bringing his workplace demeanor home. Chen Li had long grown used to it. A man like him was a perfect match for her sister—only Chen Ru could handle him.
Ugh, half an hour till the scores—such a slog.
At 9:50, Deng Shangwei returned, carrying two bottles of liquor.
“Brother-in-law’s rare visit to Rongcheng—let’s have a good drink at lunch!”
Wen Dongrong nodded reservedly. “Last time we drank together was New Year’s, right?”
Deng Shangwei laughed heartily. “Exactly—half a year ago!”
Chen Ru sat on the sofa, eyes fixed on the wall clock in Chen Li’s living room. No amount of fine food or drink could distract her.
She and Wen Dongrong had low expectations for Wen Ying’s entrance exam results, mentally prepared to pay for her spot in a key school.
But before the scores were out, Chen Ru couldn’t help harboring a tiny flicker of hope.
What if, like Wen Ying claimed… No, impossible. That’d be like winning the lottery!
Chen Ru knew the daughter she’d raised. Wen Ying’s mental resilience was weak—she “couldn’t hold steady.” She did fine in smooth exams, but any unexpected hiccup, and she’d falter.
Chen Ru’s lips pressed into a tight line.
She wanted to drag Wen Ying over and scold her, but the girl was off tutoring at Teacher Lin’s, leaving all the pressure on the adults.
Finally, ten o’clock hit, and Chen Ru instinctively stood.
“We can call now.”
Wen Dongrong, who’d claimed minutes didn’t matter, pulled out his phone instantly.
From ten to 10:09—nine whole minutes—only Deng Yaomei’s phone got through to the score hotline.
“I-I got through…” she stammered.
Wen Dongrong reached out, and Deng Yaomei handed over her phone with both hands.
He hit speaker.
After entering Wen Ying’s exam number as prompted, a robotic female voice read out the scores. The whole family held their breath, silent for a long moment.
Chen Ru rubbed her wrist, her voice strained. “…Did you enter the wrong number?”
