The value of Shrimp King’s shares wasn’t something Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao could decide alone. They said they’d consult their families.
The result: neither Tang nor Geng families would increase their holdings. The shares transferred by Wen Ying, Xie Qian, and Wang Shuang would be taken by the Qin siblings.
Both families saw how much Qin Yi and Qin Jiao valued Shrimp King. A business shouldn’t have too many decision-makers—holding more shares and wanting control could spark conflict.
Qin Jiao asked Wen Ying, “Are you really not keeping any shares?”
Wen Ying was honest, “I don’t have time to manage Shrimp King anymore. It’s about letting the right people handle the right tasks.”
Qin Jiao laughed.
“What kind of reason is that? Can’t you just take dividends without managing? By your logic, 99% of companies shouldn’t exist since they all have passive shareholders.”
Qin Jiao was generous, and Wen Ying didn’t shy away. Persuaded, she decided to keep 5% like Tang Yifeng and Geng Xiao.
Xie Qian had no objections. Wang Shuang, recalling Li Mengjiao’s advice to follow smart people since he wasn’t clever enough, figured if Xie Shen and Wen Ying kept 5%, he’d do the same.
Shrimp King was more than a business—it was a testament to their friendship.
The final agreement: Wen Ying transferred 35%, Xie Qian 10%, and Wang Shuang 15% to the Qin siblings.
How the Qin siblings split the 60% was their business!
On the transfer price, Qin Yi spoke first.
He said Shrimp King wasn’t what it used to be—1% was worth 30,000 yuan, so Wen Ying’s 35% was 1.05 million.
Xie Qian, who’d been silent, seemingly unbothered by the money, looked up after Qin Yi’s offer, “30,000 is too low. I’ll sell at 40,000.”
Building a餐饮 brand was tough.
Shrimp King wasn’t a national name yet, but in Chengdu, it was established. Qin Yi wanted Wen Ying’s foundation—1% was worth more than 30,000.
To the Qin siblings, Xie Qian offered 40,000. To outsiders, he wouldn’t settle for less than 50,000.
Xie Qian was only transferring 10%, so 300,000 versus 400,000 didn’t matter much to him, but it did for Wen Ying.
Wen Ying wasn’t one to haggle with friends over money.
In business terms, Qin Yi’s price was too low, so Xie Qian had to object.
Xie Qian wasn’t that close to the Qin siblings. Last year, he blocked Qin Yi from joining Shrimp King; today, he was the one raising the price.
Despite being three or four years younger, Xie Qian effortlessly bridged that gap.
Wang Shuang looked on in admiration, Wen Ying hesitated to speak.
30,000 or 40,000 was fine by her, but since Xie Qian spoke up, she wouldn’t contradict him.
How could Qin Yi compare to Xie Qian?
Even with Qin Jiao, Wen Ying would pick Xie Qian—not out of bias… mainly because she feared he’d send her exam papers.
“Fine, 40,000.”
Qin Yi yielded.
40,000.
Shrimp King’s 35% shares were worth 1.4 million.
Unlike Li Mengjiao’s transfer before Shrimp King was formally registered, her 150,000 was tax-free. Wen Ying’s transfer required taxes, leaving her with less than 1.2 million.
Still, it was another million for Wen Ying!
Cashing out from her venture without hurting friendships, Wen Ying was satisfied.
Her previous million was lent to Xie Qian. If he needed this sum, Wen Ying would lend it again.
This time, Xie Qian declined.
“I have enough money. Keep it. You could invest more in Tianjiao. With a small stake, even if the series sells well, your share won’t be much.”
Tianjiao’s second project was about to start filming, and the transfer funds could solve Wen Ying’s investment shortfall.
With a small stake, you’re at others’ mercy. With enough capital, Wen Ying’s influence would grow.
Someday, Wen Ying’s scripts wouldn’t need others’ funding—she’d decide the budget and cast!
Wen Ying agreed with Xie Qian.
A Shanghai river-view apartment could wait.
Her money couldn’t buy a true luxury river-view mansion anyway. If she recalled correctly, Tangchen Yipin opened this year, redefining Shanghai’s luxury market.
Wen Ying had no plans to buy Tangchen Yipin—it wasn’t cost-effective. She knew it stayed overpriced with no buyers for years until more wealthy people flooded Shanghai, treating money like paper, and top-tier complexes like Tangchen Yipin slowly sold.
Wen Ying wasn’t into mansions, but not buying was one thing, not affording was another. She wanted to be someone who could afford a mansion—to be Xie Qian’s good friend, how could she not afford one!
Before Wen Ying could speak, Yang Xi burst in like a gust of wind.
“Boss Wen, you sold your shares?”
Wen Ying nodded, “Yep, I’m no longer the top shareholder. Qin Yi Ge and Qin Jiao Jie are. I kept a small portion.”
Yang Xi sighed in relief.
So, no new boss.
Qin Yi and Qin Jiao were easy to work with!
Yang Xi was lured to Shrimp King by Wen Ying. Initially reluctant, after working from store manager to headquarters, she’d grown attached.
Some of the delinquent girls who hung out with Yang Xi flunked their college entrance exams. Yang Xi sent a few back to retake, but two who couldn’t study joined Shrimp King under her watch.
These 18- or 19-year-olds, with no social experience, could be exploited elsewhere. Yang Xi ensured they stayed clear of harmful influences.
Besides them, there was Deng Yao Mei.
Deng Yao Mei was naive—what if a new boss exploited her?!
Yang Xi rushed over hearing Wen Ying was selling, only to find it was a false alarm.
Wen Ying grinned, seeing through Yang Xi’s tough exterior and soft heart. Yang Xi snapped, embarrassed, “What’s so funny? Of course I’d check if there’s a new boss!”
What was so funny?
Wen Ying wasn’t laughing at Yang Xi’s facade but at the fact that summer was ending. The Super Girl national finals concluded last night, and the fire from Wen Ying’s memory never happened.
No electrical fire in the neighbourhood, no need for a firefighting hero. Standing before Wen Ying was a vibrant, unharmed Yang Xi!
This was wonderful.
It made Wen Ying happier than her second million.
A million could be earned elsewhere, but a girl’s bright future was worth more than that!
