Take a look.
After reading enough self-aggrandising “biographies,” it’s time to switch to something light to lift the mood.
Since formatting programs are useless, why bother deceiving oneself?
He Zhen was certain he deeply loved his girlfriend Rebecca, but his feelings for Wen Ying were different.
Escaping is futile; one must face it proactively. He Zhen no longer hesitated, lowered his head, and opened *The Galaxy and You*.
This was the novel of the same name as the TV series *The Galaxy and You*. Although the show was incredibly popular in July, the He family of three had no interest in chasing dramas, so He Zhen hadn’t watched it.
Not having seen the series, the novel’s plot felt fresh to him. He had assumed *The Galaxy and You* was about the passionate, tangled love stories of young people, but he was surprised after reading it.
It wasn’t a love story at all.
The novel wasn’t overly profound, yet it didn’t seem like something a high school girl could write independently.
High school girls living in an ivory tower typically know little about society. Take He Zhen himself; he only began to understand the real world, stepping out of the ivory tower’s sheltered environment, after getting involved in the family business.
The story in *The Galaxy and You* was fictional, but Wen Ying wrote it so well it felt as if she had lived it herself, which was clearly impossible. How could a high school girl have entertainment industry experience?
Writing truly requires talent. Considering Wen Ying’s age in relation to *The Galaxy and You*, He Zhen had to admit her creative prowess. There are indeed “geniuses” in this world, and some people cannot be defined solely by their age.
No need to compare it to other works; He Zhen had a perfect counterexample at hand.
If *The Zhao Family Letters* had even a tenth of the readability of *The Galaxy and You*, it wouldn’t be gathering dust in a bookstore corner.
He Zhen had planned to read *The Galaxy and You* to shift his mood before returning to *The Zhao Family Letters*. But after finishing *The Galaxy and You*, he couldn’t bring himself to read *The Zhao Family Letters* at all. A work reflects the writer’s inner world, and after reading *The Galaxy and You*, He Zhen could construct a “portrait” of Wen Ying in his mind.
Overall, Wen Ying seemed optimistic. Her depiction of the entertainment industry was complex, yet the story’s tone was upbeat and positive.
Moreover, Wen Ying was mature for her age. Though her story was cloaked in the guise of “idols,” it depicted the social rules of adults.
Beneath the optimism and maturity lay a touch of knowing yet unworldly “innocence,” a fascinating contradiction.
During a long-distance call with his girlfriend Rebecca, He Zhen naturally brought up his unease.
It started two years ago when he inexplicably returned to China, and something felt off.
From the feeling when he first saw Wen Ying’s photo to his thoughts after reading *The Galaxy and You*, He Zhen shared everything with Rebecca, holding nothing back.
“I think something’s not quite right with me.”
Rebecca wasn’t an ordinary girl who would start a fight at the first hint of this. After He Zhen poured out his heart, she asked only one question:
“So, do you still love me?”
“Of course!”
Rebecca’s voice rose slightly, “Then this is our issue to face together. Until we figure out this strange feeling of yours, we’ll deal with it together. I believe we can resolve it. It won’t be harder than my PhD, right?”
The guilt weighing on He Zhen’s heart lightened significantly.
This was why he loved Rebecca. No one could resist her. Her independence, bone-deep confidence, and scholarly wisdom combined to create her unique charm.
“One more thing…”
He Zhen mentioned his suspicions about Zhao Dong.
Rebecca couldn’t offer advice on this.
Investigating his parents’ business partner meant distrusting his parents. The results could strain his relationship with them. Chinese families are very close; some people never separate from their parents, lacking the concept of an independent self.
He Zhen was already more independent than most Chinese people, but in Rebecca’s eyes, his bond with his parents was still closer than that of most British people.
Respecting different cultural family dynamics, Rebecca couldn’t advise him.
If he didn’t investigate, He Zhen couldn’t let it go.
If he did…
“You’re about to open Pandora’s box.”
Pandora’s box?
He Zhen caught the implication: so Rebecca also thought there was something off about Zhao Dong?
In the end, He Zhen forced himself to finish *The Zhao Family Letters* with disgust.
After finishing, he felt he gained nothing. If the content of *The Zhao Family Letters* was true, Zhao Dong was not only faultless but also a noble overseas Chinese businessman who, after making money abroad, supported his homeland’s development.
He Zhen pulled out his phone.
He had saved Zhao Dong’s sister, Zhao Qian’s, contact information.
Though fishing for information from a young girl felt a bit low, if he couldn’t find another way in, he’d have to do this distasteful thing.
…
He Zhen thought of Zhao Qian, who was currently being scolded by Zhao Dong.
Zhao Qian had severely overspent her allowance this month. Zhao Dong called her across the ocean, asking where the money went. Zhao Qian argued confidently, “I need to buy clothes and bags. Brother, you told me to befriend the Zhuo siblings. How can I be friends with them if we’re not on the same spending level? Brother, raise my credit card limit. Why can’t I spend like the Zhuo siblings?”
Zhao Dong was furious, his head aching.
Of course, the Zhuo siblings could spend freely. Their money came easily. Sara Zhuo didn’t even need to try, and Xie Jinghu was eagerly throwing money at her.
Just the shares in “Silan” alone, Xie Jinghu gave 20% to Sara Zhuo’s eldest son.
Zhao Dong and the He family worked hard in Shanghai, while Young Master Zhuo got 20% of the shares without lifting a finger. With money coming so easily, how could the Zhuo siblings not spend lavishly?
No wonder Zhao Dong felt unbalanced. When it came to living off men, Zhao Dong’s aunt married a man old enough to be her father, and Zhao Dong’s own father latched onto an older wealthy woman. There was never fairness between people.
The Zhao family’s wealth accumulation was far more arduous; how could Zhao Qian’s allowance compare to the Zhuo siblings?
Zhao Dong, still wanting to save face, couldn’t say that his aunt wasn’t as skilled at this game as Sara Zhuo. He could only scold Zhao Qian, telling her, “Don’t let it happen again.”
“Got it, got it. I’ll spend less next month,” Zhao Qian replied, but after hanging up, she made a big grimace.
At that moment, Zhao Qian was sunbathing by the pool at Sara Zhuo’s mansion. A Chinese girl, even younger than Zhao Qian, was meticulously applying sunscreen to every inch of her skin.
The girl’s skin was strikingly fair, her hair slightly damp, already showing stunning beauty at such a young age.
Zhao Qian sidled up with a grin, “Zhuo Yue, thank you. The idea you gave me worked perfectly. My brother didn’t suspect a thing. He’s so annoying, checking my expenses every month, controlling my every move across the Pacific!”
