Chen Ru answered another call.
This time, it wasn’t a friend or relative inquiring about the situation.
“A newspaper reporter?”
Chen Ru drew out her words. “You want to interview my daughter at school?”
Her gaze fell on Wen Ying, who immediately showed a strong desire to avoid trouble: “I still have to study. I won’t accept interviews!”
With fame came choices. Wen Ying needed to balance studying and writing. Agreeing to one interview might seem harmless, but a flood of interviews and reports could overwhelm her.
Li Mengjiao handled this well—on stage, she was a star; at school, a student, keeping the two identities separate, not letting fame’s distractions enter school.
Wen Ying hadn’t let success go to her head and knew what her mother wanted to hear, decisively declining the interview.
Chen Ru, satisfied, nodded slightly and politely refused the reporter’s request.
Her reason was perfect: Wen Ying wanted a normal student life and didn’t want excessive media attention.
The reporter tried to persuade her, but Chen Ru handed the phone to Wen Dongrong, letting him deal with it. When it came to deflecting with tact, Wen Dongrong was a master. Soon, the reporter was dizzy from his verbal maneuvering, rejected without feeling that the Wen family was arrogant or that Wen Ying was acting like a diva.
Chen Ru coughed lightly, and Wen Ying became as meek as a quail.
“Mom, is there something you want to ask? I’ve already confessed everything about publishing the novel. Oh, and I’ve transferred nearly all my shares in Shrimp King. That money…”
Wen Ying racked her brain, unsure how to broach the subject with Chen Ru.
The proceeds from transferring Shrimp King shares were substantial for a high schooler. Though she earned it herself, not telling her parents risked a major fallout.
But telling them meant explaining the TV drama deal.
—In Manager Chen’s mindset, high schoolers shouldn’t be involved in such distractions; they should focus on studying!
To tell or not, and how to tell—Wen Ying’s mind and eloquence struggled to find the right approach.
Her hesitant, anxious demeanor was fully noticed by Chen Ru.
This wasn’t the rebellious Wen Ying of the past year. Was she scared by the lawsuit?
Chen Ru couldn’t forget Wen Ying clinging to her leg in the office, crying with snot and tears. Her heart softened, but her tone remained stern: “That’s your money. Keep it. I won’t control how you spend it, but I suggest you wait until you’re an adult before using it!”
Wu Chunqin had said teaching kids financial responsibility was a parental duty.
Some parents were strict or had tight finances, leaving kids with no pocket money, which could inflate their desire for money, leading to reckless spending as adults.
Chen Ru didn’t always heed Wu Chunqin, but tonight, elated, she decided to try.
At least Wen Ying wasn’t spending extravagantly. Besides buying a second-hand car for the family, her expenses stayed within a high schooler’s range.
Unconsciously, Chen Ru was changing. Though her tone was gruff, emphasizing “suggest,” it was a shift—a huge step forward!
Wen Ying was momentarily speechless. All her prepared explanations were unneeded. After a pause, she found her voice: “What about the house renovation—”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Your dad and I will handle it. We’re not so broke that you need to worry about money!”
Wen Ying had heard this before.
Her parents’ pride, their dignity—perhaps she’d only fully understand when she became a mother herself.
Wen Ying hesitated, but Chen Ru waved her off: “Go to bed. You have school tomorrow!”
No scolding, no interrogation. The storm of secretly publishing a novel and fighting a lawsuit had passed so lightly?
Wen Ying felt like she was floating, glancing back several times, but Chen Ru didn’t backtrack.
Like a fish, she slipped into her room.
“I’m in the clear!”
Thrilled, Wen Ying texted Xie Qian, who replied with a single “Congratulations.” Feeling he was too cold, she added with a hint of seeking praise: “A reporter called for an interview, but I refused. I don’t want it to affect my studies!”
Surely Xie Qian would praise her now?
Wen Ying eagerly awaited his response. A minute later, her phone buzzed with his typically concise reply: “Good, you’re sensible.”
That’s it?!
As Wen Ying closed her door, Wen Dongrong sidled up to Chen Ru.
“Her Shrimp King shares sold for a lot, right? Are we really not controlling how she spends it?”
Rationally, Wen Dongrong knew he should defend Wen Ying to keep receiving her generous monthly “filial piety”红包, but emotionally, being financially controlled by his daughter and living off her money bruised his pride. If Chen Ru confiscated Wen Ying’s money, he’d lose the红包 but regain his status as head of the household—Wen Ying would have no money to sway his stance or shake his resolve!
Seeing Chen Ru silent, Wen Dongrong pressed: “Think carefully. Besides the Shrimp King money, there’s Youth Idol’s royalties every three months. That’s a fortune. You’re letting that girl manage it?”
Chen Ru wavered.
Having just declared she wouldn’t interfere, retracting now would mean losing face, and Wen Ying might rebel. Chen Ru couldn’t stomach that.
“I said I won’t control it, and I won’t.”
Instead of following Wen Dongrong’s script, she gave him a heavy task: “You’ll oversee this from now on. You can tell if she’s wasting money from her spending. I’ve managed her for over a decade—it’s time you, as her father, stepped up!”
Chen Ru tasked Wen Dongrong with supervising Wen Ying!
Wen Dongrong nearly shed tears of emotion—not for his wife’s trust, but from fear. He foresaw himself crumbling under Wen Ying’s bribes, becoming her ally in the same trench.
—When that day came, the balcony might become his permanent residence!
—Was it too late to tell the contractors to design a balcony that’s warm in winter and cool in summer?
…
For some reason, when Wen Ying gave Wen Dongrong her September allowance the next morning, she sensed his resistance.
Wen Dongrong was torn!
Thinking of buying 30 copies of Youth Idol to give away but lacking funds, he accepted the红包.
From another angle, why shouldn’t he take his daughter’s filial money?
Parents raise kids, and kids should support parents… Sure, Wen Ying was young, and he wasn’t at the age to need support, but those were minor details. What mattered was he could take the money.
—Hmph, Old Li didn’t even have this chance!
When Wen Ying arrived at school, Song Chan was waiting at the gate, looking weary. Seeing Wen Ying, she said directly, “I read yesterday’s Chengdu Evening News. I was surprised, but the paper wouldn’t report nonsense. You’re really ‘Reverse Fish’… Youth Idol is well-written.”
