“Esteemed faculty members, dear younger classmates, hello everyone. My name is Zhao Xinran. I am the Chairperson of Xinpei Medical and a graduate of the Class of 2017 in the School of Business at University A. I am delighted to be standing here today. University A is my alma mater and the starting point of my dreams…”
“Today, in my personal capacity, I am donating 10 million to the School of Business and Management and establishing the ‘Zhao Xinran Scholarship’… Finally, I sincerely wish my alma mater continued growth and success, with its graduates making a positive impact on the world. I also wish every junior and sophomore here a bright and promising future. Thank you, everyone!” ” Standing tall with a sharp gaze at the podium for A University’s centennial celebration, Zhao Xinran’s every word was filled with encouragement and high hopes for the students of A University; her every gesture exuded confidence and triumph.
They, too, looked up at her, their eyes brimming with anticipation and admiration.
Who among the students of University A didn’t admire Zhao Xinran? Who didn’t want to become the next Zhao Xinran?
“Xinran. Congratulations! I heard Xinpei Medical went public and did the opening bell ceremony at the beginning of the year?” Li Ke, Dean of the School of Economics and Management, stood beside Zhao Xinran, his eyes brimming with admiration.
“Thank you for your concern, Professor Li. Xinpei did indeed go public this past March.” Zhao Xinran smoothed her sleeve as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Li Ke in the hallway of the School of Economics and Management, gazing out at University A’s artificial lake.
Li Ke followed her gaze and unexpectedly caught sight of a young couple in the shade of the trees, lost in each other’s embrace. She turned her head toward her beloved former student: “Back then, I was just the department chair of Marketing. I wanted to keep you on as my graduate student, but I never expected you to refuse without a second thought—you even turned around and submitted a written commitment to waive your recommendation for direct admission to graduate school. I’d assumed you were just head over heels in love, planning to cook up a storm for your boyfriend—the heartthrob of the medical school—but it turns out you’d had this plan all along. I suppose I was the one with the narrow-minded perspective.”
Zhao Xinran looked away, shook her head slightly, and let a faint smile touch her lips. “Professor Li, how I wish I could have stayed in school a few more years, but you know my family situation. At the time, that was my best choice.”
“In the past, so many things were beyond our control, but thankfully you’ve made it through. Never mind—let’s not dwell on those unpleasant matters. Now that you’ve built your own career, I’m truly happy for you from the bottom of my heart. You wouldn’t believe it, but when news of your donation reached the college, that Liu Qiu’s face turned green—it was absolutely hilarious.” Li Ke laughed heartily, then turned to ask her, “By the way, are you two still together?”
“Who?”
“You know, that heartthrob boyfriend of yours from medical school—what was his name again? Oh my, I’m getting old; I’ve completely forgotten.” Li Ke thought hard for a while but couldn’t recall the name at all; instead, that cool, handsome face flashed through her mind.
“Pei Hongwen?”
“Right, right, right. Don’t blame me for butting in, but a guy like him—he’s used to being fawned over every day, so he has no idea how to treat a woman right. When we women look for a partner, we can’t just go by looks; we have to find someone who’ll actually treat us well.” Li Ke tapped her hand on the table. Hearing Zhao Xinran’s cold tone, she assumed they’d broken up long ago. Then, thinking of her own good-for-nothing son, she added, “ Xinran, now that you’ve made a name for yourself in your career, you really need to get a move on with your love life. As for me…”
Sensing Li Ke’s intention to play matchmaker, Zhao Xinran quickly interrupted: “I’m already married—to Pei Hongwen.”
“He treats me very well. Please don’t read too much into this.”
Li Ke’s eyes darted around as she glanced sideways at Zhao Xinran. Seeing Zhao Xinran raise her wrist to check her watch, she realized her student didn’t want to discuss the matter further, so she tactfully changed the subject: “Ah… all right. Um… I think it’s about time. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, teacher and student. Since you’ve been so kind to me all those years, I can’t let you treat me—it’s my turn to treat you. I’ve already had my secretary reserve a table at Xi Xiang Ge. Why don’t you invite all the teachers from the academy to join us?”
“Teacher Li, you looked out for me so much back then—I can’t possibly let you treat us. It’s my turn to treat you. I’ve already had my assistant reserve a table at Shixiangge. Please invite all the teachers from the department.” Zhao Xinran smiled gently, a far cry from the shy, inexperienced girl she’d been in her student days; now she was composed, decisive, and in complete control.
Yet it had only been eight years since she graduated, and she was barely thirty.
Li Ke couldn’t help but feel a lump in her throat. Over the years, despite her outward success, Zhao Xinran’s life had surely not been easy.
She’d stumbled and struggled her way to where she was today.
Zhao Xinran was unaware of Li Ke’s inner reflections, but if she had known, she would surely have laughed out loud—her life had never gone as smoothly as it had in recent years.
Her career was thriving, her family was happy, and she was at the peak of her success.
With the Pei family’s backing, her career was booming. In City A, whenever anyone mentioned Zhao Xinran, they would inevitably describe her as a rising star in the medical field—a force to be reckoned with.
After three rounds of drinks, Zhao Xinran was already a little tipsy. She pressed her hand to her forehead with a faint smile, tilting her head as she listened to her former teacher’s flattery. Suddenly, the image of an embarrassed yet stubborn face flashed through her mind.
That was the person she used to be. Time had flown by; in just eight short years, everything had changed beyond recognition.
“Xinran, I told you long ago that you’d go far. Sure enough, as soon as your company went public, you donated ten million to our institute. Everyone’s saying, ‘President Zhao is so generous!’” ” The gaunt, elderly man held up his glass, his face full of flattery. He had neither ability nor connections; at the college, he was known for sucking up to the powerful and belittling the weak. Now that he saw Zhao Xinran had made it big, he naturally put on a fawning expression.
Zhao Xinran smiled but said nothing; she raised her glass, tilted her head back, and drank it all in one gulp.
She remembered this man.
Liu Qiu. Back in her freshman year, when she and her classmates applied for financial aid, he had required them to stand on the podium one by one and recount their families’ hardships.
Tears and sobs filled the entire classroom, like a horrific contest to see who had it worst.
The student who had just taken the stage before her had said her father was seriously ill and unable to work, leaving her disabled mother to struggle alone to support the family. When she reached the most heart-wrenching part of her story, the frail, petite girl couldn’t help but sob quietly.
But what was Liu Qiu doing?
Zhao Xinran saw it clearly: hidden behind his review forms, the corners of his mouth curled into a malicious smile.
Other people’s suffering was the fuel that sustained him.
Naturally, her financial aid application was rejected. With healthy parents and hardly any family debt, she simply didn’t qualify.
Before she could even finish speaking, Liu Qiu had already humiliated her mercilessly. Zhao Xinnan still remembers the words he spoke that day.
His face was full of contempt: “Zhao Xinran, Ms. Zhao, national financial aid is meant to help students from impoverished families with almost no means of support continue their education—not to help a family full of lazybones raise a child. Instead of applying for financial aid, you should be telling your parents to work harder. I believe that as long as they work hard, they can fully support you, their only child.”
At that moment, Zhao Xinran hung her head in shame—ashamed of her “lazy” family and of her decision to follow her father’s advice and stand there applying for the grant.
Afterward, Liu Qiu often teased her about this incident.
However, times have changed. Zhao Xinran sat in her chair, lazily tilting her head to one side. The man standing before her was still the same Liu Qiu, but now his words were nothing but flattery.
This made Zhao Xinran feel a bit giddy.
No wonder so many people like to donate to their alma maters once they’ve made it big—on the one hand, it’s a tax deduction; on the other, the feeling of being flattered and fawned over by those who once looked down on and suppressed you is truly intoxicating.
Her phone suddenly rang. Zhao Xinran gave an apologetic smile and stood up to walk out of the private room.
The slightly cool night breeze brought a moment of clarity. She picked up her phone and was just about to answer when the call disconnected due to inactivity.
Narrowing her eyes, she carefully read the contact name on the screen.
“Pei… Hong… Wen.” Oh. It was her husband.
Why was he calling? Hadn’t she told him that morning she’d be attending the school’s anniversary celebration and wouldn’t be back until late?
It’s only this early—could he really be that impatient?
Zhao Xinran had no intention of calling back. After waiting a moment and hearing no further rings, she stood in the breeze for a while, put her phone back in her pocket, and turned to head back to the private room.
Just as her hand touched the doorknob, the phone rang again.
The urgent ringtone struck a nerve with Zhao Xinran.
“Tsk.” She took a deep breath, walked quickly to the window, and answered the call.
On the other end, there was only the sound of faint breathing; no one spoke. Zhao Xinran remained silent as well, waiting for the man on the other end to speak first.
The two of them seemed to be locked in a standoff, neither willing to speak first, as if the one who spoke first would suffer a crushing defeat in this showdown.
Finally, Zhao Xinran broke the stalemate, attributing her “loss” to the effects of alcohol.
Her voice, thick with alcohol and tinged with a faint hoarseness, mingled with the rustling sound of the wind as it reached the man’s ears: “I told you this morning—I’m back at A University today for the anniversary celebration. I’m at a farewell dinner for my professors right now, so I’ll be back later.”
“Okay, don’t drink too much. I’ll… be waiting for you at home.” Pei Hongwen’s voice was low; if you listened closely, you could detect a hint of fatigue and resentment.
Under normal circumstances, Zhao Xinran might have noticed, but the drunk Zhao Xinran just thought he was calling to spout nonsense. Patience wearing thin, she did her best to soothe him: “Got it, sweetie. Don’t wait up for me—go to bed early.”
“……” Pei Hongwen didn’t say a word. Zhao Xinnan knew him well—he’d fall silent when he wasn’t in the mood—but she couldn’t be bothered. She’d said all she needed to say; if he wanted to wait, let him wait.
When the dinner party ended, the secretary helped Zhao Xinran to the parking lot, settled her into the back seat, fastened her seatbelt, then walked around to the front, opened the passenger door, and signaled the driver to pull away.
“Head to Baiyue Mansion.” Pei Hongwen didn’t like the smell of alcohol, and since she reeked of it right now, it was best not to subject him to it.
Baiyue Mansion was near the company, making it convenient for work the next day.
Zhao Xinran was drunk, but not completely out of it. She rolled down the window and let the wind blow away the alcohol on her breath.
After all these years of social engagements, she had long since gotten used to it. Even though her tolerance had been average at first, after hundreds of such events, she’d built up quite a tolerance.
Now, as the wind carried away the alcohol fumes and her senses slowly returned, she leaned back in her seat, turned on the massage function, and closed her eyes to quietly go over the details of upcoming collaborations with several hospitals. Suddenly, she heard her secretary in the front seat say, “President Zhao, today is your wedding anniversary with Young Master Pei. Since I’ve noticed you’ve been so busy lately, I took the liberty of ordering a gift for Young Master Pei, just like I did last year.”
“Mm-hmm.” Zhao Xinran gave a casual nod, paying it little mind, and said nothing more.
She closed her eyes, intending to return to her work, but her thoughts were in disarray, and images of Pei Hongwen—disappointed yet too shy to express himself, his head bowed in silence—kept flashing through her mind.
Oh well. Zhao Xinran had forgotten their wedding anniversary herself, so she was clearly in the wrong. She rubbed her temples and said impatiently, “Zhang Nan, turn around—head to Xingyao Bay.”
“Got it.” Zhang Nan signaled the driver to turn the car around and head toward Xingyao Bay.
Xingyao Bay was the wedding home purchased by the Pei family before Zhao Xinran and Pei Hongwen got married; it was now registered under Zhao Xinran’s name.
As they drew closer to the villa, the headlights illuminated the gate, and from a distance, Zhang Nan spotted a tall, upright figure. She knew immediately—it was Young Master Pei.
The car came to a stop. Just as she was about to get out, she saw the rear door open from the outside. A handsome man with chiseled features and a stern expression bent down and carried her boss out of the car.
“Secretary Zhang, thank you for your hard work. Get some rest early.” With that, he carried Zhao Xinran inside without looking back.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Zhang Nan watched the man’s retreating figure and couldn’t help but sigh, “Mr. Pei really is a good man! Still, marrying a woman like President Zhao is quite a stroke of luck for him.”
Author’s Note:
None