When Chen Ru returned home, she told Wen Dongrong about her visit to Zhu Meiqun.
Chen Ru greatly admired Zhu Meiqun’s current state and hoped Wen Dongrong would respect her choices.
“If one day Big Sis wants to expand her business, I’ll support her without her needing to ask. Until then, let’s let her make her own decisions. What do you think?”
Zhu Meiqun and her husband weren’t short of capital for a small business.
As for whether Zhu Meiqun’s venture could grow big, Chen Ru wasn’t a fortune-teller and couldn’t predict if she’d become rich. But as long as Zhu Meiqun stayed true to her original intentions and ran her business with care, she’d surely improve day by day.
So, they didn’t even need to lend her their house?
“…Fine, we’ll do as you say.”
Wen Dongrong agreed with his wife outwardly, but inwardly, he planned to ask Deng Shangwei for advice.
Not to force Deng Shangwei to arrange a big business for Zhu Meiqun, but to seek his guidance, as Deng had made a fortune in Chengdu over the years and had a keener business sense than most.
In truth, Old Wen had made progress, at least acknowledging Deng Shangwei’s abilities, though his long-established image made others slow to notice his change.
Over the weekend, Xie Qian returned from Shanghai, and Wen Ying was naturally concerned:
“How’s the logistics company doing?”
“No big issues. Gong Sheng is very capable and can handle most matters.”
Xie Qian spoke lightly.
Indeed, Gong Sheng could manage routine affairs well.
But the logistics company had unusual matters too.
Xie Qian had long suspected that several large orders from Zhangjiang Science Park were odd. Learning from his uncle Xie Yuping that they were arranged by Xie Jinghu, Xie Qian felt strong distaste.
Since Xie Qian planned to undermine Jinhu Group from within, he approached this with a problem-solving mindset, targeting Xie Jinghu’s lackey, Zhao Dong, and starting with those arranged orders.
To play the part convincingly, Xie Qian staged a heated clash with Gong Sheng in Shanghai, leaving the office door open so the entire company knew.
The news would surely reach Xie Jinghu soon.
Xie Qian planned to press his advantage.
“Next week, I’m heading back to Beijing.”
Wen Ying’s ears perked up, “What happened now?”
Hearing “Beijing” from Xie Qian, Wen Ying grew wary, suspecting Xie Jinghu was up to no good again!
“Nothing happened. I just want to visit my grandma.”
“Oh, right, you should…”
Wen Ying felt a bit embarrassed for assuming otherwise, but Xie Qian always knew how to shift the hamster’s focus:
“Final exams are coming up.”
Xie Qian drawled, “This time, aim for the top 120 in your grade. No problem, right?”
Big problem!
Wen Ying could steadily rank in the top 200 now.
Her rank depended on her performance—good days got her to the 150s, bad ones barely kept her in the top 200.
Top 120 required serious effort and a sprint.
Xie Qian was too good at setting small goals!
Pushing Wen Ying forward step by step, she’d started far from the top 100, but halfway through high school, she was touching its threshold.
Xie Qian set her goal for the top 100 by the second semester of her second year.
Her ultimate high school goal was the top 50.
With Chengdu’s key provincial school’s admission rate, ranking around 50 meant Wen Ying could freely choose any university and major in Shanghai.
Whether she could surpass the top 50, Xie Qian hadn’t considered.
Wen Ying’s strength wasn’t academics. He could push her to study but couldn’t take exams for her. Top 50 was his best expectation—achievable with his tutoring and respectable anywhere. At Chengdu’s key school, top 50 was a clear academic star.
For the perfectionist Xie Qian, setting only top 50 for Wen Ying wasn’t his fault. A year and a half ago, Wen Ying was a pure academic failure, barely passing science subjects!
The pure failure instantly frowned.
Her face scrunched up.
Her eyes hesitated, wanting to bargain.
For some reason, Xie Qian used to be firm, but now he softened easily, needing mental reinforcement to resist the hamster’s charm.
“Or, if you think this goal’s too easy, I can raise it—”
“No, no, it’s challenging enough!”
Wen Ying, like a cat with its tail stepped on, lost her lawyerly calm and writerly fame. Facing Xie Qian’s “finals goal,” the academic failure fled!
Wen Ying wasn’t the only one rattled by finals goals. Li Mengjiao and Wang Shuang were too.
Li Mengjiao juggled filming and studying, under real pressure. Without Xie Qian’s tutoring, her academic scores would’ve plummeted.
Wang Shuang was stressed too. After these finals, only six months remained before her college entrance exam, leaving little time to catch up.
On January 15, 2006, the third issue of *Spark* was released, featuring three semifinalist works chosen by the judges.
Song Shao bought a copy and was shocked to find his cousin Song Chan’s work missing!
Song Chan, a New Concept first-prize winner, didn’t make the *Spark Cup* semifinals?
Song Shao saw two implications:
First, the *Tianjiao·Spark Cup* had fierce competition, with talents eroding Song Chan’s writing advantage.
Second, as advertised, the *Spark Cup* judged differently from the New Concept and other contests. Song Chan hadn’t grasped the judges’ preferences!
Knowing Wen Ying was one of the three judges, Song Shao smiled as he closed the magazine.
Didn’t pass the initial selection? With Song Chan’s temperament, she’d likely keep submitting.
With Old Fu’s support, doubts about Wen Ying’s judging qualifications had nearly vanished—a good thing.
Song Shao wouldn’t often disturb Wen Ying. As an old classmate, he silently wished her success in writing.
The timid girl who wrote her thoughts in a diary and the bestselling author now adored by readers were both Song Shao’s “old classmate,” but he preferred the current Wen Ying.
The academic failures were thoroughly managed by their “three finals goals.” Over the weekend, Xie Qian confidently returned to Beijing.
Grandma Xie was thrilled her grandson was coming, and as expected, Xie Jinghu was at her place too!
