“Well, of course—there are lots of things your mom can do,” Wen Qiqi said proudly.
“Then are we driving to find Dad now?”
“No.” Wen Qiqi shook her index finger. “Before we find your dad, there’s something more important to do.”
By the time the car stopped in front of a delicate little Western-style house, Ping An had already fallen asleep against the seat.
Carrying both children, Wen Qiqi knocked on the door.
“Seventh Granduncle! Seventh Granduncle!”
“Who is it?! Knocking this early in the morning—what’s the rush?!” A small old man, cigar in his mouth and coat draped over his shoulders, came out grumbling.
“Seventh Granduncle, it’s me—Qiqi!” Wen Qiqi called.
“Qiqi?!” The old man hurried over. The moment he saw her, the cigar dropped straight from his mouth.
This… was his grandniece?!
His beautiful, movie-star-level grandniece?!
How had she gotten this… plump?!
“That bastard Wen Jinkang! I knew from the start he was no good! I’ll skin him alive!”
After settling the two little ones, Wen Qiqi told Seventh Granduncle everything that had happened.
He was a “red capitalist.” In his youth, he had been rebellious and well-connected in both legal and underground circles. During the national crisis, he had converted half his fortune into supplies and donated them to the country. He had even led his bodyguards through enemy lines to deliver medicine to the troops.
Though old now, he still had a refined yet roguish charm.
He had always doted on Wen Qiqi and had strongly opposed Wei Rou’s marriage to Wen Jinkang back then. After Wei Rou’s death, he had nearly beaten Wen Jinkang to death.
Now, hearing how unfairly Wen Qiqi had been treated, he exploded on the spot, grabbing a wooden stick and heading out.
Back then, Wen Jinkang had knelt and sworn he would treat Wen Qiqi well. Combined with the fact that Wen Qiqi was to marry a military officer, Seventh Granduncle had believed him.
Who would’ve thought—like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he would even harm his own daughter for money!
If he didn’t beat that bastard to a pulp this time, he wouldn’t rest!
“Seventh Granduncle!” Wen Qiqi quickly grabbed him. “Acting on impulse is dangerous! I already have a way to deal with that scumbag!”
Only then did he stop. “What way?”
Wen Qiqi looked at him and said word by word, “I’m going to donate all the property and assets—including the textile factory.”
He froze. “All of it?”
Wen Qiqi nodded. “All of it.”
Before she died, Wei Rou had already learned about Wen Jinkang keeping a mistress and an illegitimate daughter. Knowing the family fortune could never fall into his hands, she had transferred all assets into Wen Qiqi’s name and appointed Seventh Granduncle as the overseer.
In other words, Wen Qiqi had the right to use the assets, and Seventh Granduncle had supervisory authority.
She could entrust him to sell, donate, or transfer everything.
“What about you?” he asked, still worried.
“I’ll take the children to find my husband,” Wen Qiqi said. “So I want to donate everything in my mother’s name—to the country.”
She would live this life well on behalf of the original owner—and also repay her mother in the only way she could.
Seventh Granduncle’s gaze softened. He gently patted her head. “Alright.”
That night was the most restful sleep Wen Qiqi had had since transmigrating.
When she woke up, it was almost noon.
Seeing Seventh Granduncle’s wife playing with the two little ones in the garden, Wen Qiqi returned to the space and soaked in the hot spring for fifteen minutes before coming out.
As soon as she stepped out, she felt a sharp stomach cramp. She rushed to the bathroom, vomiting and having diarrhea, struggling for quite a while before recovering.
That hot spring was powerful!
After rinsing her mouth and looking in the mirror, she noticed her face seemed less swollen.
Maybe it was just her imagination.
When Wen Qiqi came out again, Seventh Granduncle had returned.
“It’s all taken care of. I got you a letter of introduction to the army,” he said efficiently. “Secretary Wei originally wanted to award you in person, but since you’re leaving, he asked me to pass it to you.”
He handed her a bright red certificate and a letter of introduction.
Wen Qiqi took them, gently touching the name “Wei Rou” written on it, warmth welling up inside her.
It felt as though the original owner was saying “thank you.”
Seventh Granduncle patted her shoulder. “Within a few days, officials will come to take over the property. That bastard Wen Jinkang and his mistress and daughter will be thrown out onto the streets!”
Wen Qiqi nodded. “Thank you, Seventh Granduncle.”
“No need to be polite with me,” he said, noticing her putting on her coat. “Heading out?”
“I’m going to buy some food for the train,” Wen Qiqi lied.
In truth, she was going to the post office to mail an anonymous report.
The contents, of course, would accuse Wen Jinkang of colluding with foreign forces and attempting to transfer money and antiques abroad.
From the original owner’s memories, while her scumbag father was incompetent in most things, he was excellent at hoarding wealth.
The ease with which he showed her the warehouse proved that his money was definitely not all stored in one place.
After hearing the “inside information,” Wen Jinkang would surely try to move all his assets overseas and flee as soon as possible.
There was no way Wen Qiqi would let him succeed.
“Hey, Qiqi, I’ll drive you!” Seventh Granduncle called after her—but she had already ridden off on his bicycle.
She didn’t dare drive the car again—too conspicuous. A bicycle was much more convenient.
Though… its sturdiness was questionable.
Watching her wobble away, Seventh Granduncle’s face filled with worry.
Could that bicycle really handle his grandniece’s weight?
He didn’t care about the bike—he just worried that if it broke, she might get hurt.
“I wonder what kind of man Guan Xianzhi is… Qiqi’s gotten like this… will he still treat her well…”
He muttered to himself.
And sure enough—one of his worries came true almost immediately.
Before Wen Qiqi even reached the post office, one of the bicycle pedals fell off.
Just her luck!
Annoyed, she got off and pushed the bike to a roadside repair stall.
Fortunately, there were plenty of bicycle repair stands in this era. She leaned the bike against the shed and ducked into the small wooden structure.
“Sir, I need a repair—”
Before she could finish speaking, Wen Qiqi suddenly sensed something was wrong.