Chen Ru only had a rough estimate of how much Wen Ying earned from writing novels. So far, the largest sum Chen Ru had personally handled was the down payment for two apartments in Shanghai.
Now, with over a hundred media outlets reporting that Wen Ying earned ten million from her novels, how carefree would Chen Ru have to be not to ask about it!
Her bank colleagues were both envious and teasing, joking with her: “Sister Chen, your daughter’s making so much money. Don’t let other banks snatch that ten-million business. Bring it to ours!”
Chen Ru could only respond with a polite smile.
Bring business?
People wouldn’t believe it, but Chen Ru, her own mother, only learned how much her daughter earned through the newspapers.
Chen Ru had been too confident before, letting Wen Ying manage her own earnings with the agreement that any expense over a thousand yuan needed reporting. This rule had been followed well. Besides the apartment down payments, Wen Ying hadn’t spent much—or had she, without Chen Ru knowing?
Probably not.
Chen Ru only let Wen Ying manage her income, but they lived under the same roof. Chen Ru wasn’t blind or deaf. Wen Ying’s daily expenses were within normal bounds, showing no extravagance.
Oh, there were expenses over a thousand yuan—secretly given to that dog of a man, Wen Dongrong, each month.
That dog didn’t dare use it, passing it on to fund underprivileged students. So, Wen Ying’s secret filial money wasn’t personal spending; the beneficiaries were neither her nor Wen Dongrong but those students.
When this came to light, Chen Ru didn’t blame Wen Ying and let Wen Dongrong off lightly, tacitly supporting their good deeds.
Sometimes, Chen Ru wondered how Wen Ying, with so much money, resisted spending it.
Adults who come into sudden wealth often lose control, buying houses, cars, and indulging in luxury, irrational in the thrill of newfound riches. Many lottery winners, after a few years of splendour, end up worse off than before. If adults struggle to manage sudden wealth, how did Wen Ying, not yet eighteen, do it?
Either Wen Ying was too young, living in a simple environment with no concept of money, so she could resist spending.
Or her maturity surpassed her peers, even most adults, possessing the resolve and mindset to handle such a fortune.
Either way, as her mother, seeing the overwhelming media coverage, it wasn’t unreasonable for Chen Ru to ask about Wen Ying’s plans for her ten million in royalties.
While Chen Ru only dealt with colleagues’ teasing, Wen Dongrong received a flood of “concerned” calls.
Friends and family were curious: were the newspapers true? Did Wen Ying, not yet eighteen, really earn ten million in royalties?
When Wen Dongrong’s elder brother called, confirming the reports weren’t nonsense, he urged Wen Dongrong to watch over Wen Ying: “Boys with money can go astray, girls with money can be deceived. Keep your eyes open!”
In his elder brother’s mind, Wen Ying was still the obedient, honest niece.
Though he didn’t understand why her books were so popular, earning money didn’t mean she was savvy. The risk of her being scammed was high.
He even blamed the newspapers for publicising it.
Weren’t there enough rich tycoons for them to tally? Why make a Writers’ Rich List, exposing his niece to risks!
Scammed by shady deals?
Wen Dongrong chuckled, “Big brother, you underestimate her. She’s the one scamming others. Who could scam her?”
His brother was displeased. “How can you talk about Xiao Ying like that? Are you her father or not?”
Honest people don’t joke, so his brother argued seriously with him for a while. Though not particularly accomplished, his honesty earned Wen Dongrong’s respect. Cornered, Wen Dongrong conceded, “Big brother, I get it. I’ll look out for her.”
That’s more like it!
His brother hung up, satisfied.
Throughout, he never asked if Wen Ying, a young girl, could spend all that money.
Because it was none of the relatives’ business.
Ten million was obviously too much to spend! Even the dimmest knew such a sum could sit in a bank earning interest. Only shameless relatives would think of “helping” spend it!
After his elder brother, Wen Dongrong took a call from his younger brother, Wen Changlin, also confirming the news. Amazed, Wen Changlin exclaimed, “Xiao Ying’s incredible! My brat can’t sit still when he sees a language book. Making him write an essay would kill him. He’s got no talent for novels.”
After praising his niece, Wen Changlin flattered Wen Dongrong, saying he always loved reading as a youth. While others played, Wen Dongrong read during holidays, the only one to get into university. Wen Changlin sighed nostalgically.
Scolded by his elder brother, praised by his younger, Wen Dongrong was delighted but stayed reserved: “It’s just our old Wen family talent. Wen Ying didn’t show writing flair before, but she blossomed after the high school entrance exam. Don’t give up on Wen Lei yet. With some nurturing, he might have his moment!”
“That’s true!”
Wen Lei was Wen Changlin’s son.
Wen Changlin left his hometown job to sell insurance in Chengdu, all to get his son into a provincial school. He didn’t expect Wen Lei to match Wen Kai or Wen Ying, but he should at least surpass his father.
After showering praise, Wen Changlin hung up, also not asking how Wen Ying planned to spend her millions.
Wen Dongrong was touched by his brothers.
The Wen family was reliable. The unreliable ones were old friends Wen Dongrong knew.
Doing business in a small place, driving fancy cars, always talking about multi-million deals, their actual scale paled compared to tycoons like Qin Xianming or Wang Jun.
Small business, big talk. They called Wen Dongrong, asking to borrow a few million for “turnover.”
Wen Dongrong laughed, “That’s her money. How could I lend it out? Sorry!”
“She’s your daughter. You’re her dad. She wouldn’t disobey you!”
Sorry, she really might.
Other daughters are sweet little jackets; his was a black-hearted quilt.
Wen Dongrong couldn’t admit he lacked control. With these thick-skinned friends, he dropped the courtesy: “Borrowing from a minor? How’d you fall so low? My wife works at a bank, but we don’t run one. Want a loan? Prepare collateral, and I’ll connect you to any bank you want!”
The caller choked, accusing Wen Dongrong of being a bad friend. He laughed.
What kind of friend?
True friends called to congratulate, admiring his daughter’s success.
Fake friends saw a chance to “rob” him, not minding if it was five million or fifty thousand.
Wen Dongrong hung up.
People climb upward, water flows downward. At a higher perch, it was time to clean up his friend circle!
When the couple met at home after work, Wen Dongrong vented about the loan-seekers. Chen Ru mused, “These people are just shameless. Some are shameless *and* malicious. What if they target Wen Ying directly?”
“You mean…”
Wen Dongrong had a bad feeling.
Chen Ru voiced her half-day’s pondering, “The papers say ten million in royalties. I’ve only seen the million-plus for the apartment down payments. I need to ask Wen Ying about her plans for the rest.”
Oh no, trouble!
Wen Dongrong knew where the rest went—it was invested in Tianjiao shares.
But Chen Ru didn’t know!
Was the “ten-million investment” bomb finally about to explode?
Wen Dongrong’s gaze drifted, uncontrollably glancing toward the living room balcony.
