At a liquor bidding event, Song Foxiang exposed the ghostwriting scandal, shattering Zhao Dong’s fake persona and ruining his bid, securing Song Chan’s chance to attend Phillips Exeter Academy in the U.S. as an exchange student.
This was a prestigious American boarding high school. Song Chan’s exchange was a stepping stone to better apply for foreign universities.
Applying to foreign universities and getting into Yale were two different things. The latter was incredibly tough, a world-class school Xie Qian had attended in his past life. Song Chan was indeed impressive!
Wen Ying paused briefly, then sincerely congratulated, “Song Chan is so outstanding!”
Of course!
Song’s daughter was always the best!
Well, she couldn’t yet match Wen Ying’s writing achievements, but academically, she was unmatched.
Song Foxiang didn’t mean to belittle Wen Ying, but Yale admitted only a handful of Chinese students yearly. Getting in required hard and soft skills, with luck as part of the latter. Song Chan’s success was no guarantee Wen Ying could replicate it, given the slim odds. How could Song Foxiang not be ecstatic?
It was he who fought for custody of Song Chan during the divorce.
It was he who tirelessly nurtured her, leading to her Yale admission!
When Song Chan’s acceptance was confirmed, Song Foxiang immediately called his ex-wife, gloating fiercely.
His ex-wife, uninterested in his “Song family genes” theory, offered to share college tuition costs. Song Foxiang refused, saying he’d raised Song Chan alone all these years and needed no help now. Her money could go to the child from her new family. Song Chan had her father’s love.
Years later, his ex-wife still found Song annoying. She’d been blinded by his talent in youth, marrying him in her worst life decision. Well, not entirely—there were sweet moments early on, and without him, there’d be no Song Chan.
Even his ex-wife admitted Song Foxiang wasn’t a good husband but was a good father.
She praised him sparingly, but Song Foxiang found her words lacking. He’d celebrated with Editor Wan over drinks ten times, each time boasting creatively. Wan cheered the first couple of times, humoured him for three or four more, and endured the rest out of old friendship.
The entire workplace, top to bottom, knew of the news.
Even in 2006, or decades later, a child getting into a school like Yale was worth bragging about!
Wen Ying had dodged Song Foxiang’s gloating by avoiding the magazine office, but she couldn’t escape forever. He finally caught her!
Since Wen Ying and Song Chan won first prize together at the New Concept Composition Contest, Song Foxiang couldn’t help comparing his daughter to Wen Ying.
He kept comparing, and kept losing.
Yale’s admission closed that gap in one stroke.
Yet Wen Ying’s congratulations were so genuine that Song Foxiang, scrutinising her, saw no trace of jealousy, making him feel a bit petty.
It was like punching cotton!
Perhaps he should’ve bragged to Wen Ying’s parents, but they weren’t in Rongcheng’s cultural circles, leaving him no one to gloat to!
With that thought, Song Foxiang tossed his hair, nodding reservedly. “Not too outstanding, just room for improvement. Wen Ying, you must work hard too. Do you have Song Chan’s contact? If not, I’ll give you her email. Stay in touch.”
Wen Ying understood Song’s mood, but Song Shao frowned. “Uncle, you’ve bragged about Sis getting into Yale at our house multiple times. Again tonight?”
Song Foxiang denied it firmly. “Nonsense, I’m not bragging. I’m here to see your parents!”
Was it wrong for a brother to visit his sibling and in-law?
Huffing, Song Foxiang brushed past Song Shao and strode into the complex.
Song Shao, embarrassed, said, “My uncle’s just like that. He’s not bad, just annoying. Don’t mind him.”
Wen Ying nodded. “I’ve dealt with Editor Song plenty. I’m used to his true nature. Besides, Song Chan getting into Yale is huge. Others might boast even more! I’m genuinely happy for her. Abroad, she’ll find new horizons.”
As the ancients said, travelling ten thousand miles beats reading ten thousand books.
Take Song Chan. Leaving her comfort zone, she not only got into Yale but, judging by her recent work, had matured in experience and thought!
Wen Ying’s eyes were clear, showing no displeasure. Song Shao chuckled. “I underestimated your generosity. It’s late, so I won’t keep you. Let’s stay in touch.”
Wen Ying handed the fruit bag to Song Shao.
“Thanks so much for helping with my cousin!”
“All this thanking is too formal.”
Thinking of the Wen family waiting, Song Shao urged Wen Ying to return. He headed home with the two fruit bags.
The Song family lived in an apartment block tied to Song Shao’s mother’s workplace.
With her high rank at the provincial hospital, they got a spacious unit. It was convenient for her work, and the area was lively, so despite buying a better house, they stayed.
While many moved to elevator apartments, Song Shao preferred their old building, where neighbours were familiar. Carrying the fruit bags, he shared some along the way, and by the time he reached his building, the bags were much lighter.
Two elderly aunties saw Song Shao talking to Wen Ying at the complex entrance, teasing if she was his girlfriend.
Before Song Shao could reply, a little girl holding one auntie’s hand cried, “When I grow up, I’ll be Brother Song Shao’s girlfriend!”
Song Shao pulled a big apple from the bag. “I’ll listen to Yaya.”
Yaya, about seven or eight, took the apple, smiling through tears, showing her missing front teeth.
The auntie laughed at her granddaughter, forgetting to press Song Shao for gossip.
Several little girls in the complex, like Yaya, wanted to be Song Shao’s “girlfriend.” They didn’t grasp the concept, just loved playing with him, the neighbourhood’s most patient, handsome big brother!
When Song Shao finally entered his home, Song Foxiang had been in the living room for ten minutes, having just complained to Song Shao’s father.
Song Shao’s father was exasperated with his youngest brother.
The Song family had tried to reform Song Foxiang to act more normal, but the effort failed. He remained stubbornly himself, middle-aged but immature.
Seeing Song Shao enter, Song Foxiang grinned. “Big brother, they say a nephew takes after his uncle. Shao’s got my youthful charm, landing a nice girlfriend. I just caught them dating at the complex entrance!”
Classic Song Foxiang, classic jerk.
