Chapter Forty-Two

The next time Yu Qian saw Zhou Jingchen was during the National Day holiday in 2006.

By then, Yu Qian was already eleven years old, in her final year of elementary school. She met Zhou Jingchen when she visited Wenxiu’s studio.

He looked even thinner, but also more spirited.

With radiant eyes, he smiled at Yu Qian and said, “Cutie, just wait a few more months for me. After the New Year, I’ll be able to spend time with you.”

Yu Qian smiled and nodded in agreement.

Wenxiu came out of her office just in time to catch Yu Qian staring at Zhou Jingchen’s retreating figure. “Tsk, stop looking. He’s gone.”

Yu Qian tilted her head, her smile sweet.

“Don’t torment us single people. Come into the office, I have something to tell you.”

After placing the packed snacks on her desk, Wenxiu settled onto the sofa and asked, “Why was Zhou Jingchen here?”

“You don’t know?” Wenxiu seemed surprised.

Seeing Yu Qian shake her head, Wenxiu’s expression turned complex. “Seems Zhou Jingchen is really invested in you. He wants to arrange everything for you.”

Yu Qian’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

“He came to me, knew you’d join my studio, and knew I needed money. He directly put in thirty million and took half the shares.”

“What does he want to do?”

“What else? He’s worried I won’t treat you well, so he wants to be your support.” Wenxiu was a bit speechless. How could she possibly treat Yu Qian poorly? Zhou Jingchen’s doubts stung a little.

“So, am I being sponsored by a patron before even debuting?” After thinking it over, Yu Qian couldn’t help but laugh.

Wenxiu rolled her eyes and handed her a folder. “Take a look at the resources Zhou Jingchen brought for you.”

The more Yu Qian read, the more astonished she became.

Study plans, teachers, agent… he had thought of everything. Even her debut timing and method were meticulously planned.

He was intent on overseeing her entire future.

After she finished reading, Wenxiu asked, “Well? Can you accept it? If so, we’ll follow this plan.”

“Page 1 of 3”

“If I accept, does that mean once I’m of age I’ll have to throw myself into the arms of this big-tailed wolf?”

Wenxiu rolled her eyes again. “If you don’t accept, you’ll still have to.”

“Well, then I guess I’ll accept.” She shrugged, returning the folder to the desk.

As she was about to leave to find her parents, Wenxiu called her back. “Wait, I forgot to mention: Zhou Jingchen has transferred his household registration to the provincial capital. Unless something unexpected happens, you two will see each other often when you attend middle school here. I don’t mind you nurturing your relationship, but you’re not allowed to officially date before you’re eighteen—not allowed to cause trouble!”

Yu Qian felt her lips twitch. “No need to emphasize, I already know. Besides, I never planned to date before I’m eighteen. I want to be a top student.”

“Alright, go find your godparents.” Wenxiu waved her off.

With only one semester left before graduating elementary school, Yu Qian wanted to study in the provincial capital, so the family had been busy preparing for it.

The prestigious middle schools in the city didn’t refuse out-of-town students, but they had requirements.

Either you had to own property in the school district, or you had to pass an entrance exam.

Yu Qian excelled in her county’s schools, but the education quality there was far inferior to that of the provincial capital. Her parents didn’t dare rely solely on entrance exams.

So, they simply bought a small villa near Provincial No. 1 Middle School.

The house wasn’t particularly large—two floors, six rooms. But because it was near No. 1 Middle School, the price was exorbitant.

Just that one small villa nearly emptied the couple’s savings.

Although their company had been thriving for the past two years, most profits were reinvested to expand, so the couple’s accessible funds were less than ten million.

They spent six million on the house, one million on renovations, leaving less than two million.

Yu Qian and her parents had come to inspect the house.

The villa had been renovated, and after passing inspection, it would be aired out for six months before the family moved in.

Upstairs, there were four bedrooms: one for the couple, one for Yu Qian, one for Wenxiu, and the last was a study. Downstairs, there was a practice room and a guest room—the latter intended for the housekeeper.

The overall style was European minimalism, quite elegant. Yu Qian found it pleasing, had no objections, and the transfer was completed smoothly.

Furniture hadn’t been purchased yet; they planned to buy it when Yu Qian took her entrance exams. By the time she finished, the furniture would be ready, and both Yu Qian and Wenxiu could move in.

As the exam approached, everyone grew more anxious. Even Saturday hobby classes were suspended to let her focus.

“Page 2 of 3”

Yu Qian herself felt nothing. She had finished elementary coursework in her first year after rebirth, and was now self-studying high school subjects.

If she couldn’t get into No. 1 Middle School, she might as well commit seppuku. But with hobbies suspended, she simply found new interests.

One day, while playing on the computer, Yu Qian accidentally opened a novel website. She realized that since being reborn, she hadn’t read any of the novels she used to love in her previous life. Thanks to her past, she had an exceptionally vivid imagination, and many themes she knew hadn’t yet appeared in current novels.

In 2006, the popular genres in China were youth pain and angst, led by male authors nicknamed “Fourth Sister,” especially favored by young readers.

Whereas the domineering CEO, time-travel, rebirth, sci-fi, supernatural genres popular in later years had either not appeared or lacked breakout hits.

Yu Qian was quick-witted and soon decided to start writing. She’d have to learn screenwriting anyway, so this would be good practice.

She registered an account on Qidian using Wen Yu’s ID, and chose the rebirth genre for her first book.

There were many reasons, but the most important was that she herself was a rebirth.

The story was quite simple: the plot was set in a fictional ancient world. The heroine and the female antagonist died after suffering due to a “swapped prince” scheme. After death, the heroine traded her emotional root with the underworld for rebirth, vowing vengeance. With memories from her previous life, she exposed the antagonist’s identity and returned home, letting the antagonist taste her own former fate. Then followed the classic inner-court intrigue. As the heroine had lost her emotional root, there was no male lead. By the end, she had wealth, power, and status, but remained unmarried for life. The book centered entirely on the heroine, with the highlights being rebirth and the absence of a male lead.

Having read countless novels, Yu Qian knew well the importance of climaxes and satisfying moments. Unsurprisingly, her book exploded in popularity.

The website editors sent numerous invitations for her to sign a contract, but Yu Qian ignored them. She didn’t need subscription or reward money, writing was just practice, and she intended to make the whole book free—so why sign?

With no Saturday hobby classes, Yu Qian had more time to write; with no editors interfering, she could update chapters as she liked.

It all depended on her mood.

Her readers were driven mad. Many wanted to send rewards but couldn’t find a way; they begged for her contact info in the comments, to no avail. Unable to reward her, they had to accept it, but the author’s updates were unpredictable—sometimes one chapter a day, sometimes a sudden burst of ten or twenty chapters, exhausting their nerves. They wanted to stop reading, but the novel’s fresh themes and engaging content kept them hooked.

Readers claimed they were suffering heart attacks.

Yu Qian paid no heed to their thoughts. Between classes, homework, writing, and finding time to chat with Zhou Jingchen, she was far too busy to care.

Zhou Jingchen knew she was writing and considered sending her rewards. In conversation, he learned she planned to make it entirely free, so out of respect, he didn’t urge her to sign.

However, in a seemingly accidental, yet not-so-innocent move, he exposed her Yunbo alternate account. Now, readers were flocking to Yunbo to urge her to update and sign a contract.

“Page 3 of 3”