Chapter 13
When they saw Ruan Lu’s written wish, Ruan Liuzheng and He Chen both froze.
Ruan Liuzheng suddenly blushed.
Because she felt she understood everything now.
She finally understood her mother’s deep intentions.
What does “surpass heaven by half a stone” mean?
What is “half a stone”?
A son-in-law is half a son!
Her mother clearly wants a son-in-law who surpasses heaven itself.
But is such a son-in-law easy to find?
Of course not!
So they must cultivate him early.
He Chen’s appearance and physique are utterly heavenly—perfectly matching this standard.
His personality was originally stable, but only recently became erratic.
And his grades? They don’t even qualify as “surpassing heaven.”
But if everything were perfect, it wouldn’t be “surpassing heaven by half a stone”—it would be “surpassing heaven by a full stone,” surpassing even the Son of Heaven!
Such a son-in-law, she believed, was beyond her control.
So “surpassing heaven by half a stone” is just right.
And the reason she kept reminding him he was her brother, insisting she not let her maiden heart stir, was for her own good.
If He Chen’s grades can’t be relied upon, and the burden of supporting the family will fall on her shoulders, she must study hard, get into a top university first, then land a good job, earn more money, so she can support the family.
Then He Chen will be the beautiful one, and she will be the one earning money to support the household.
Perfect!
After the college entrance exam ends, once she gets into her dream university, her mother will surely reveal the truth—then wouldn’t that “brother” before her just need one more character added…?
Coincidentally, that’s when her birthday falls—perhaps this is her mother’s perfect coming-of-age gift.
The more Ruan Liuzheng thought about it, the more certain she became that this was the only truth; her face burned, yet her resolve grew stronger.
She must work twice as hard.
Otherwise, with her current grades, getting into Peking University’s Medical School remains extremely difficult.
He Chen had no time to care about Ruan Liuzheng’s private thoughts.
He was stunned by the four characters Ruan Lu had written, and his mind involuntarily recalled a TV drama he’d watched in his past life.
There was no help for it!
These four characters were too famous.
He hadn’t even considered it, because Ruan Lu didn’t share the surname Liang, and though she was no longer in her prime, she hadn’t aged to the point where claiming she’d once been a campus beauty would invite mockery—she remained a graceful middle-aged beauty.
Moreover, in the original body’s memories, there was no trace whatsoever of Ruan Lu’s husband; she always appeared alone, her marital status unclear.
This was a world blending television and reality, where lookalikes were everywhere, so He Chen genuinely hadn’t made the connection.
But now Ruan Lu had written “surpass heaven by half a stone” without hesitation, with solemn seriousness—this forced He Chen to think deeper.
He himself had written “crane longevity” without hesitation—that was his truest wish. Ruan Liuzheng had hesitated for several seconds and glanced at Ruan Lu; he knew this wasn’t her genuine wish. She’d lived under her mother’s expectations for so long, she likely had no passionate desire of her own.
And Ruan Lu’s instant, unwavering choice? It must be a long-held obsession.
But wasn't that Qi Tongwei's obsession?
How had it become hers…?
Too strange!
He wanted to ask but couldn’t. Ruan Liuzheng was barely holding back her racing heart—she wouldn’t speak. Ruan Lu, after writing it, stared at the four characters, lost in thought.
The three stood silently, none speaking.
Until a balloon popped—breaking their reverie. They turned toward the sound and saw Qiao Yingzi storming off.
Her parents stood where she’d been, awkward and helpless.
Earlier, Qiao Yingzi’s family had also been writing wishes. Qiao Yingzi had written hers without hesitation: “CNSA!”
The English abbreviation for China National Space Administration!
Qiao Yingzi’s father, Qiao Weidong, had been watching his daughter closely and immediately said her wish was to join the space agency and explore the stars and oceans.
When Qiao Yingzi saw her father not only knew but supported her, she excitedly launched into her dreams, even clapping in delight.
This struck a nerve in Qiao Yingzi’s mother, who snatched the balloon and demanded her daughter rewrite her wish: “Either Jinghua or Peking University!”
Qiao Yingzi’s smile vanished instantly.
Qiao Weidong, watching, felt awkward for his ex-wife. Seeing his daughter upset, he quickly took the balloon and added: “Get into a space-related major!”
Qiao Yingzi’s mother, seeing her ex-husband’s addition made her daughter happy again, grew angry and insisted her daughter add one more line: “Score at least 700!”
Qiao Yingzi disliked such blunt, vulgar demands. But her mother genuinely believed this, and couldn’t stand her ex-husband winning more of her daughter’s favor—she forced her to write it. They argued, shoved each other, and the balloon burst.
“Dreams must be your own true desires, not someone else’s expectations,” He Chen said to Ruan Liuzheng as Qiao Yingzi’s parents chased after their daughter. “Otherwise, you won’t be happy—and you’ll end up making one wrong step after another, regretting your whole life, harming yourself and others.”
Qiao Yingzi’s mother, overhearing, was furious. She stopped and glared at He Chen.
If anyone else had said this, she wouldn’t have thought twice. But after learning about He Chen from her friend, she was certain he was deliberately mocking and insulting her—even cursing her.
“So you understand perfectly,” He Chen didn’t deny it. “You’re taking it personally.”
He truly despised her parenting style.
Qiao Yingzi studied hard, ranked among the top students, and had her own romantic dream of the stars and oceans—by any standard, she was the perfect child. Anyone else would be secretly thrilled.
But Qiao Yingzi’s mother couldn’t stand her daughter’s happiness, dismissed her romantic dream, and insisted she follow her own path—no deviation allowed.
Not to mention how she’d insulted him.
Qiao Weidong had heard his ex-wife insult He Chen before and already felt embarrassed; he secretly thought she’d gone too far. He quickly pushed her away, reminding her that finding their daughter was the priority now.
Qiao Yingzi’s mother shot He Chen a furious glare, muttered “no manners,” shoved her ex-husband’s hand away, and ran off after her daughter.
He Chen didn’t chase after her—he’d just remember this.
“Why do you go around picking fights with everyone?” Ruan Liuzheng complained.
“It’s incidental—why not pick a fight if you can?” He Chen smiled. “Besides, I’m mainly speaking to you. Qiao Yingzi’s mother doesn’t support her, but at least Qiao Yingzi has a clear dream. What about you?
Are you sure medicine is your dream?”
“What do you mean?!” Ruan Liuzheng was upset. “In your eyes, I’m worse than Qiao Yingzi, right?”
“Do you even understand medicine?” He Chen didn’t deny it, but asked back. “Do you know what a doctor’s daily life, work, and study are really like?”
“I’ll find out soon enough,” Ruan Liuzheng retorted. “Didn’t the school organize a college admissions fair?”
He Chen knew the balloon release ended with the college admissions fair. Chunfeng High School had invited admissions officers from top universities in Beijing to give students and parents an early briefing on this very day—the day of the senior class’s motivational rally. He had to admit: educational resources here were truly incomparable.
In his own past, he hadn’t even understood what his major entailed before entering university—let alone after graduating.
And that’s without even mentioning how the college entrance exam here was widely considered the easiest, with admission scores far lower than other provinces for top universities…
The advantages in resources? Completely unmatched.
End of Chapter
