Chen Ru thought she might have been too serious and softened her tone, “Don’t feel too pressured. Auntie is just asking you to try. If you can’t persuade Wen Ying, it’s no big deal.”
“First, I’d like to address your initial question about whether I want to study abroad. At the moment, I personally have no such plans, nor do I believe that studying abroad is the only way to benefit my future.”
Xie Qian’s thoughts were always clear, “Secondly, I won’t go abroad, nor will I urge Wen Ying to do so, because she’s an independent individual, and I respect all her decisions. Auntie Chen, I’ve never doubted Wen Ying’s intelligence. She may not be a top student in the traditional sense, but in other areas, she’s far more mature than her peers. I can help her with studies, but in other aspects, I’ve been learning from her. Which university to attend, what major to choose, whether to study abroad, Wen Ying has her own ideas. She must have weighed all factors before deciding. All of us, including Wen Ying and me, will one day have to break free from our parents’ influence and choose our own paths, even if those choices aren’t perfect. But who is born perfect?”
Xie Qian rarely gave long speeches.
With smart people, few words sufficed; with fools, no amount of talk mattered.
He spoke at length to Chen Ru because she was Wen Ying’s mother.
Yet Chen Ru didn’t sense any special treatment. She persisted in trying to convince Xie Qian, “Perfect? That’s a childish word. I just want Wen Ying to avoid detours. You young people don’t feel it now, but you’ll understand once you enter society, or rather, Wen Ying will. She’s different from you. You might have family support to fall back on, but Wen Ying doesn’t. Her father and I haven’t given her the resources to live recklessly. Where Wen Ying surpasses us is that she has the foundation we built. She can stand on our shoulders to climb higher. You think studying abroad isn’t important? I think it’s crucial. A high degree, a prestigious school, these can be Wen Ying’s lifelong confidence.”
Was Wen Ying mature?
That was undeniable.
Chen Ru had seen all of Wen Ying’s changes since the high school entrance exams.
But no matter how mature a child was, they were still a child, and Chen Ru couldn’t help but worry.
At her teenage age, having earned a lot from writing novels, Wen Ying was surely brimming with confidence about her future. But could a young person know the countless setbacks life might bring over decades? What if Wen Ying’s creative inspiration dried up one day?
If she could no longer earn a living through writing, a degree from a top university would be her greatest asset.
On educational philosophies, Chen Ru could argue with Xie Qian all day.
In the eyes of a group of underachievers, Xie Qian was a “study god.” To Xie Jinghu, he was a rebellious son and a major concern. To Xie Yuping, he was a promising prodigy. To Chen Ru, he was just a high schooler with good family background and grades.
Wen Ying couldn’t change Chen Ru’s views, and neither could Xie Qian.
What was there to say to Chen Ru?
That a degree didn’t mean everything, that a prestigious school didn’t equal learning ability, that studying abroad or not wouldn’t dim Wen Ying’s brilliance?
It was pointless.
Chen Ru wouldn’t listen.
Xie Qian never wasted effort. He stood up, “Sorry, I just remembered I have something to do and can’t stay for the meal. Don’t worry, I won’t mention today’s meeting to Wen Ying.”
So well-mannered, yet so decisive, he left without wasting a moment.
The simple meal Chen Ru arranged, Xie Qian barely touched. On the table sat a pen she hadn’t managed to give him.
The black pen gleamed elegantly, much like Xie Qian himself, luxurious yet understated.
Such a pen looked perfect in a display case, exuding opulence under lights, but wasn’t practical for everyday use by ordinary people. After all, it was so expensive, who wouldn’t wince at a scratch or chipped paint?
Xie Qian was like that.
Too perfect.
Chen Ru felt that seeking him out was her worst decision.
With his privileged background, Xie Qian had never faced hardship or adversity. What could crush an ordinary person was nothing to him.
For such a boy, studying abroad or not made no difference; he could even skip school altogether.
No matter what he studied or what career he pursued, his family’s support would ensure his success.
Chen Ru suddenly wondered, Xie Qian didn’t want to study abroad, and Wen Ying was so set on attending university in Shanghai. Was she influenced by him?
…
Xie Qian’s first private meeting with Chen Ru was undoubtedly a failure.
Their differing views clashed, neither convincing the other. Xie Qian left without even accepting Chen Ru’s gift.
What a fine pen, something Song Shaoxing didn’t have. Such a pity.
But then again, even if you bought every pen that brand ever made, lifeless objects couldn’t compare to a living person.
Which was more important, a pen money could buy or a unique hamster?
Xie Qian returned home preoccupied. The two underachievers didn’t know where he’d been. Li Mengjiao lounged on the sofa, rubbing her stomach, “Why hasn’t Wen Ying come yet?”
“She’s going to Tianjiao and the publisher today. She’ll be late.”
“Oh.”
Full from eating, Li Mengjiao’s brain worked slowly.
She saw nothing odd about Wen Ying going to Tianjiao alone. Yuan Fenghui often discussed things with Wen Ying but not with Li Mengjiao, as it would be pointless; she wouldn’t understand.
If she didn’t understand, so be it. Wen Ying and Teacher Yuan were handling things, and they wouldn’t let her down.
While Li Mengjiao contentedly studied at Xie Qian’s house, Wen Ying was at Rongcheng Literature Press discussing business. There was an issue with the final publication of *Seeking Yong*.
In the publisher’s office were not only Wen Ying and Little Carp but also Song Foxiang and the newly appointed chief editor.
Yuan Fenghui was drinking tea in the next office. The earnings from the novel *Star River and You* weren’t significant to her; she left the financial dealings to the company and the publisher.
Why did Yuan Fenghui come? Because the new chief editor had taken office, and she wanted to make contact.
On the way to the publisher, Yuan Fenghui had warned Wen Ying about the risks of the new editor’s appointment, “A new emperor brings new courtiers. Be careful.”
No way around it, Little Carp was too junior. Being entrusted with *Spark* magazine was already a stretch; she couldn’t leap to chief editor.
Editor Wan was also slightly lacking.
The most qualified was Song Foxiang, but he carried a disciplinary record.
The new chief editor, unknown to all, was poached from another publisher by the group, with deep experience and a string of impressive titles.
Busy with studies, Wen Ying hadn’t yet dealt with the new editor. Hearing Yuan Fenghui’s warning, she only smiled.
Before Zou Weijun left, she had signed a publishing contract for *Seeking Yong* with Wen Ying: a first print run of 300,000 copies, settled at 15% royalties, with royalties recalculated per reprint without reduction.
This contract was favorable for Wen Ying. With her current fame, she could get similar terms from any publisher, so the new editor didn’t challenge the contract.
Instead, the new editor found issues with *Seeking Yong*’s content.
The serialized portions in *Spark* needed minor revisions, but the unpublished sections required major changes.
“The entire story is wrong.”
The new editor’s words made Little Carp frown and Song Foxiang glare.
Wen Ying, the author herself, remained calm, “Where do you think it’s wrong?”
