Wen Ying pocketed the thousand yuan from Detective Luo and headed home cheerfully.
In her past life, with her industry standing, drafting an agreement would’ve cost far more than a thousand. But factoring in 2004’s prices and her rapport with Luo, she was grudgingly content with the fee.
She was satisfied, but Xie Qian, out for a morning run, witnessed her transaction with Luo and misunderstood.
After Wen Ying got home, Xie Qian mulled it over and tailed Luo onto a bus.
On his way back to the agency, Luo kept feeling watched.
At first, he thought he’d been exposed—maybe Yu Wenhao had sent someone to track him. But then he spotted a teenage boy—so striking he seemed untouched by worldly grime, aloof and refined. A glance confirmed this wasn’t someone Yu Wenhao could afford.
Yet Luo recognized Xie Qian.
When Wen Ying and Qin Jiao went to Longtan Lake, Luo was there too, albeit discreetly. He knew her “companions.”
So this kid was really following him?
Caught, Xie Qian didn’t flinch. He nodded lightly at Luo. When Luo disembarked, Xie Qian followed, trailing him to the agency.
Seeing the tacky “Lovebird Investigation Agency” sign, Xie Qian wasn’t surprised.
“Young man, you—”
Xie Qian shifted his gaze from the sign. “You know private detective work is illegal here, right?”
Luo choked.
Obviously—he’d just spent a thousand yuan on a “consultation fee agreement” from Wen Ying’s “lawyer friend” to dodge trouble, planning to rebrand as an “emotional consultation firm.” The agreement was still in his pocket, the sign unchanged, and now this kid seemed to threaten him. Luo felt the universe’s spite.
Pretending not to know Xie Qian, he snapped, “Legal or not, what’s it to you? You a Pacific cop or something, sticking your nose everywhere?”
Xie Qian scanned the surroundings, seeing through Luo’s bluster.
“I’m no cop, but you take a minor’s money and slack off? Looks like you’re not scared of them.”
Xie Qian pulled out his phone. Luo’s head throbbed.
He knew it—taking a minor’s case and cash was a mistake. This would haunt his career!
“…Wait, what’re you doing? Let’s talk this out!”
—
At the Jiangs’, Lin Lin stopped Wen Ying, praising the crayfish Xie Qian brought home yesterday. “Didn’t expect you to cook so well.”
“Xie Qian mentioned your work-study plan. I’m all for you kids experiencing the real world.”
Lin Lin didn’t even add “don’t let it affect your studies”—she was too thrilled.
Her ethereal cousin Xie Qian, partnering with friends to try a business? What they sold or earned didn’t matter—the milestone did. Pairing him with Wen Ying for tutoring was genius. If he made more friends like her, Lin Lin’s worries would vanish!
If it hurt Wen Ying’s grades… Lin Lin wouldn’t allow it. She’d ask three colleagues to focus tutoring on Wen Ying, ensuring she’d keep up with the provincial key school’s pace by fall.
This was her thanks.
From Wen Ying’s view, Lin Lin’s sudden warmth and focus on her progress felt odd. She was still a slacker!
Lin Lin’s enthusiasm wasn’t the weirdest part. Today’s tutoring session saw Xie Qian arrive an hour late.
Wen Ying was baffled.
After class, her phone buzzed wildly—over a dozen texts, all from Luo.
Had he lost his mind?
Why resend Pan Li’s info—photos, pregnancy test, Deng Shangwei’s 350,000-yuan hush money? She already knew!
Wen Ying was stumped.
Nearby, Xie Qian flipped book pages calmly, hiding his role.
Her detective wasn’t entirely useless—just dishonest, likely hoarding evidence to milk her slowly. He hadn’t noticed, fine—but once he did, he had to act.
What Wen Ying did with the evidence was her call, not his.
If he were harsher, he’d have Luo send it to her aunt Chen Li.
He didn’t—Xie Qian knew better than anyone how infuriating it was to make choices for others under the guise of “helping.”
As Wen Ying reached for her phone to call Luo, Xie Qian packed his books and asked, “How’s the investment thing going?”
Her focus shifted instantly.
“You really want in? If it flops, I can’t pay you back.”
“Loans get repaid; investments don’t if they tank. If you profit, I get dividends—so I take the risk.”
Wen Ying wasn’t dodging his investment—she worried his offer was impulsive.
Xie Qian didn’t care about the money. Though he never flaunted it, Wen Ying had long noticed his gear wasn’t average.
That mountain bike he rode? No typical student could afford it!
Xie Qian wasn’t in it for cash.
He wanted to help her!
Realizing this, her eyes crinkled with a smile. “I’ve decided, Xie Qian. We’re not just friends—we’re partners, right?”
Small as the venture was, “partners” fit.
Besides Xie Qian, she gained Qin Jiao, Li Mengjiao, and Wang Shuang—five bosses for one stall. Wen Ying called the shots, holding the most shares.
She put in 1,000 yuan plus her crayfish recipe, taking 40%. Xie Qian and the others each invested 2,000 yuan for 15% each.
Even for a small gig, Wen Ying insisted on clear terms—investments and profits in black and white.
All five were bosses and staff.
Helping at the stall earned extra pay.
No one objected. Once funds arrived, they split tasks. In two days, they secured tables, chairs, cookware, a rented shack near the night market strip, and a beat-up tricycle.
With prep done, the 9,000-yuan startup was nearly spent—just enough for ingredients.
Deng Shangwei sourced 200 pounds of crayfish, draining their cash.
If those 200 pounds didn’t sell, the stall was toast!
As they geared up to launch, Chen Ru and Wen Dongrong rolled into Chengdu for the weekend.
Treating Lin Lin to dinner topped their list.
Next, they’d check out Wen Ying’s so-called “business.”
Plus, they wanted to see the property Chen Li raved about. She’d urged them to buy in Chengdu—they hadn’t decided.
If it was good, a house wasn’t out of the question.
