Chen Li patiently comforted Wen Ying.
Wen Ying’s eyes reddened.
Back then, not only did her aunt dote on her, but her uncle, Deng Shangwei, did too. Perhaps because her two younger cousins were such rascals, Uncle Deng often said he’d wanted a daughter, treating Wen Ying like his own.
When Wen Ying was in kindergarten, Chen Ru was swamped with work. Chen Li, still a student, would pick her up after school, juggling babysitting with sneaking off to date Deng Shangwei. To steal a few extra minutes with Chen Li, Deng Shangwei didn’t mind playing nanny—pedalling his old 28-inch bike with Chen Li on the back and little Wen Ying in the front basket.
From dating to marriage to kids, this couple’s life was threaded with Wen Ying. Before they had their own children, they practised parenting on her… If only Uncle Deng hadn’t made that mistake!
Tears welled in Wen Ying’s eyes. “Did Uncle really say that? Tell him he has to visit tomorrow—if he doesn’t, I won’t even eat!”
Chen Li laughed. “Still such a kid! Alright, no need to wheedle—I’ll make sure he comes tomorrow. How about I stay with you tonight? You’ve had three days of exams—your parents are knackered. Let them rest; they’ve got work tomorrow.”
Wen Ying could manage alone—she didn’t need a night companion.
If Chen Ru or Wen Dongrong offered, she’d resist. But with Chen Li, she was happy to agree.
She nearly said yes, then remembered Deng Jie and Deng Hao needed looking after. “You should head back to the provincial capital.”
Chen Li shook her head. “No worries—our nanny, Yao Mei, can handle the two little terrors for a few nights.”
It’d been over a month since Chen Li last saw Wen Ying. To help her focus on the exams, Chen Li had stopped inviting her to Rongcheng for weekends.
Wen Ying was a child she’d watched grow up, and Chen Li adored her.
As a toddler, Wen Ying was a cherubic little thing—cute and clever. Yet somehow, she grew more withdrawn. “Withdrawn” was the polite term. To Chen Li, her sister Chen Ru and brother-in-law Wen Dongrong micromanaged Wen Ying into a shell—overcontrol dulled her spark.
But she was their kid—Chen Li couldn’t meddle in their parenting.
If she said too much, Chen Ru would retort with Chen Li’s teenage romance with Deng Shangwei, blaming it for her not getting into uni. Chen Ru claimed she’d learned from Chen Li’s “mistake,” hence the tight leash on Wen Ying.
Chen Li sighed inwardly.
“I heard from your parents—you got sick during the exam, so it might not have gone well. Don’t overthink it. Enjoy this summer—play as you like. I’ll get your uncle to pull some strings. We’ll spend what it takes to get you into a top Rongcheng high school.”
Chen Li reassured Wen Ying, promising she’d attend her dream school.
In truth, when Wen Ying woke, Chen Li had been at the hospital for half an hour. Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong had vented about the exam flop, and Chen Li told them not to blame the kid—illness wasn’t her choice.
Chen Ru countered that Wen Ying’s flu came from getting drenched in Rongcheng in early June, subtly hinting Chen Li should’ve driven her back. Wen Ying had gone with a dozen classmates—Chen Li thought it’d teach independence, letting the teens enjoy a day out before returning by coach.
Hearing Chen Ru’s tone, Chen Li immediately offered to fund and finagle Wen Ying into a top school with Deng Shangwei’s help.
Some elite schools had discretionary spots then. If you nabbed one, you paid per point below the cutoff—plus extra for the connections. Chen Li meant well, but Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong bristled at the idea, so she dropped it.
Now, vowing to Wen Ying, she just wanted her niece to feel less pressure about the exam.
Wen Ying smiled, lowering her voice. “Auntie, I’ll let you in on a secret—I think I did pretty well this time. But Mum and Dad won’t believe me. You know how stubborn they are—only hard proof sways them. Don’t argue with them—just let them talk.”
Chen Li’s eyes widened with delight. “You’re not pulling my leg?”
Wen Ying nodded. “I reckon I hit the provincial key school cutoff. Once results are out, I’ll take their entrance test.”
Last life, her English bombed at 91, leaving her total miles from the key school line.
In 2004, Rongcheng zoned high school admissions, but rules had wiggle room. Students from outlying counties could apply to top schools if they met the score threshold and passed an extra test.
Wen Ying had been reborn mid-English exam, initially mistaking it for a dream.
Now, she was glad she’d taken that paper seriously.
No way it was just 91 again.
Junior high English was child’s play now—she might not get full marks, but she’d outscore her mocks.
Still, Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong wouldn’t buy it even if she told them.
Chen Li, though? Whatever Wen Ying said, she believed.
Claiming a good score, Chen Li beamed, pulling out her Motorola phone to call Deng Shangwei right there.
The first call rang out unanswered.
On the second, it picked up quick.
Before Chen Li spoke, Wen Ying grabbed the phone. “Uncle—” she choked, overwhelmed by past and present.
Deng Shangwei panicked on the line, asking what was wrong. Wen Ying whined she felt bad.
He cooed she’d see him tomorrow.
She whimpered more; he switched to coming tonight.
Satisfied, Wen Ying handed the phone back. Chen Li gave Deng Shangwei a few driving cautions before hanging up.
“You little tyrant—happy now? Your uncle’s dining with seafood bosses tonight. Only you could drag him away from a schmooze!”
Wen Ying grinned.
But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Deng Shangwei’s company dealt in seafood wholesale. In 2004, cold-chain transport wasn’t big yet. In landlocked Sichuan Basin, fresh seafood was rare—more “sea” than “fresh.” That scarcity made it lucrative, and Deng Shangwei had cashed in. Wen Ying later guessed he was worth nearly 10 million then.
Before the housing boom, 10 million was a fortune—enough to draw trouble.
She glanced at Chen Li. Maybe her rebirth could change things—not just for herself, but for her aunt’s family too.
