Wen Ying obediently followed Zheng Zhihe’s advice.
On Tianya Forum, she stirred things up and then vanished, leaving many netizens waiting for her to clarify, but she held back and didn’t respond.
She’d thrown out plenty of passive-aggressive remarks, and now it was up to the netizens to run with it.
This generation of netizens, though naive, didn’t let Wen Ying down. Soon, someone dug up Aige’s internal hierarchy, revealing there was only one editor-in-chief surnamed Han, Han Qin.
Han Qin was exposed.
Wen Ying sneered inwardly, If I were more ruthless, I’d let Han Qin taste the sting of a cyber mob.
Han Qin should be grateful Wen Ying had principles, only wanting to reverse the negative narrative and turn the tables on her.
Nothing more.
So Wen Ying didn’t keep fanning the flames.
Knowing Zheng Zhihe was handling the case, Wen Ying wasn’t too worried about the outcome. Her attention now was on Editor Song’s movements.
Why did Editor Song keep praising her in newspaper columns, finding new ways to flatter her daily?
The shameless praise made Wen Ying feel like she was floating, how could she keep disliking Song after this?
The only thing grounding her was the drawer of practice tests Xie Qian left at home.
Xie Qian called it a drawer, but didn’t mention it was this massive.
Wen Ying and Wang Shuang went bug-eyed when they saw it.
How are we supposed to finish all this?
A drawer? This was practically a wardrobe.
Auntie Liu comforted Wang Shuang, Do ten sheets a day, you’ll finish eventually. How about I make sandwiches for a snack?
Auntie Liu’s sandwiches were delicious, and growing Wang Shuang could scarf down two or three in one go.
But the joy of sandwiches couldn’t erase the pain of two academic underachievers facing a wardrobe of tests.
Wang Shuang’s face was miserable, and Wen Ying sucked in a breath.
With her adult mindset, Wen Ying felt she should be stronger than Wang Shuang, so she gritted her teeth and reassured her, Think about your class rank. Others would kill for a chance at tests like these.
Tests? There were tons on the market, you could buy a truckload.
But tests tailored to Wang Shuang’s level? Money couldn’t buy those, making them precious.
The Wang family had spent plenty, hiring tutors galore, but Xie Qian had the biggest impact.
The scariest part was Xie Qian didn’t need money. Wang Shuang’s dad couldn’t sway him with cash, so if Wang Shuang messed up and disappointed Teacher Xie, she’d face her dad’s real wrath.
The two underachievers stared at each other, then at the remaining cabinets.
If their tests were this many, Li Mengjiao’s couldn’t be fewer.
Speaking of misery, Li Mengjiao had it worse. Xie Qian didn’t care if she was performing out of town.
Qin Jiao didn’t babysit the two full-time. They saved questions they couldn’t solve for when Qin Jiao stopped by daily to explain.
After acing the college entrance exam, Qin Jiao took over Shrimp King’s operations, with Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao, the other shareholders, pitching in. A new company, young shareholders, and equally young managers and staff, all stumbling forward together.
Summer returned, and the late-night crayfish market exploded again. Shrimp King wasn’t the only one thriving, other crayfish stalls and shops were booming too. In Rongcheng’s late-night food scene, the crayfish empire was rapidly expanding. Deng Shangwei, who stumbled into this, was now the city’s biggest crayfish wholesaler.
This brought him some comfort.
Without Wen Ying, he wouldn’t be in the crayfish business.
Wen Ying had dragged him into plenty of messes, leaving him with a big burden to carry. If her actions ever came to light, Deng Shangwei, thinking of the money he’d made wholesaling crayfish, felt he’d face the consequences willingly.
Ignorance is bliss.
These days, Deng Shangwei kept a close eye on Rongcheng’s newsstands. Youth Idol was Wen Ying’s book, and besides her family, he was the only one in the know.
Deng Shangwei was on edge, worried Wen Ying would get hurt, yet also fearing her pseudonym would be exposed if things escalated.
He was also curious.
If, just if, Wen Ying’s identity was revealed in this situation, would Chen Ru be angry at her secrecy, or would she back Wen Ying and fight for justice?
She’d definitely be angry.
But fighting for Wen Ying’s justice? She wouldn’t hesitate.
Chen Ru could scold Wen Ying, that’s a mother’s right, but let someone else try, and which mom wouldn’t explode?
Confessing to Chen Ru now, not a great idea. Once external enemies were dealt with, it’d be time for family arguments. The mother-daughter truce was fresh, better let peace last a bit longer.
Deng Shangwei diligently collected every newspaper and magazine mentioning Youth Idol.
When Wen Ying could openly tell her parents, his collection would help Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong understand what she’d been through.
These storms hadn’t broken Wen Ying, she was truly grown.
In Hunan, Yuan Fenghui’s negotiations with Hunan TV were at a critical stage.
Yuan Fenghui came on strong, pressing hard, overwhelming Director Fan and giving Liang Dan a sense of crisis.
With Super Girl in its final stage, Liang Dan was too busy for trivial matters.
Her fight with Yuan Fenghui over time slots wasn’t about Xu Mei.
This year’s Super Girl produced several mega-popular contestants, and Xu Mei no longer held much value to Liang Dan. The time slot fight was about influence.
With the show’s success, Liang Dan’s clout at Hunan TV had grown.
If Yuan Fenghui took what was hers, Liang Dan would lose both face and substance.
Prime time? Xu Mei’s drama could stay off, but Princess’s New Clothes couldn’t take it either.
If Wen Ying saw Xu Mei now, she’d be shocked.
High-intensity commercial performances had drained Xu Mei’s energy. She’d lost so much weight her old clothes didn’t fit. She had stick-thin legs and a tiny waist, not from dieting but exhaustion.
So tired.
Xu Mei couldn’t remember the last time she slept properly.
No matter how tired, she had to perform, always either at a gig or en route to one.
The most absurd part? Despite being the champion, her performance fees were far less than Li Mengjiao’s.
She, the champion, was riding the runner-up’s coattails, laughable.
But Xu Mei had no time to dwell. She was exhausted, sleepy, and though protecting her voice was vital for a singer, she’d started smoking to stay alert, even developing a nicotine habit.
It was the least harmful way to stay awake, she knew some in the industry used worse.
Her relationship with Young Master Cao was crumbling too.
He no longer liked her, yet she clung on shamelessly, refusing to break up.
If they split, she’d lose her last lifeline, and her company wouldn’t care if she lived or died.
In the break room, Xu Mei thought endlessly but found no solutions. Chronic sleep deprivation dulled her mind. She lit another cigarette to perk up.
In the swirling smoke, Pan Li pushed the door open and hurried to Xu Mei’s side.
Sis, bad news. Yuan Fenghui’s pushing the station for a test screening, pitting both dramas against each other.
