Chapter 77: Qiu Yingying Walks a Different Path

At eight-thirty in the evening, Qiu Yingying led An Di and Guan Juer into the bar.

Listening to the quiet music, Guan Juer whispered, “Wang Da’s place really has atmosphere…”

An Di silently observed the surroundings, saying nothing.

Qiu Yingying found Xiao Li, followed the direction of his finger, and spotted Wang Yan quietly drinking at a corner.

As they approached, Qiu Yingying and Guan Juer greeted him: “Wang Da.”

An Di also nodded to Wang Yan.

“Sit.” Wang Yan casually ordered a few drinks and some snacks. “Xiao Qiu, broken up?”

“Broken up.” Qiu Yingying took a sip of alcohol and growled, “That bastard keeps calling me on new numbers, trying to trick me again. But after I told him about those women, he stopped bothering me.”

Wang Yan nodded and turned to An Di: “What did you want to tell me?”

An Di glanced sideways and said offhandedly, “Nothing.” She feared Qiu Yingying would develop ill feelings toward Fan Shengmei after hearing it.

Wang Yan gave a casual reply and said no more.

The three chatted quietly for a while, drank two glasses of alcohol, and, due to work the next day, hired a driver home by nine-thirty.

At Happy Song’s 22nd floor, Wang Yan said: “An Di, come up to my place for a bit?”

After a moment’s thought, An Di nodded, not refusing.

“Goodbye, Wang Da. Goodbye, An Di-jie,” Qiu Yingying and Guan Juer said in unison.

Wang Yan nodded, and the elevator doors closed.

“Come in,” Wang Yan said, opening the door for An Di.

“So many books?” An Di asked in surprise upon entering.

Wang Yan smiled: “Boredom, just killing time. Most of them I haven’t even read.” He picked up a bottle of alcohol. “Another drink?”

“Sure.”

He poured two glasses, invited An Di to sit in the living room: “Say it.”

An Di took a sip and said: “This afternoon… I’ll tell you exactly what Fan Shengmei said.” She recounted Fan’s words: “I think some of it makes sense, but something feels off. What do you think?”

Wang Yan set down his glass, avoided answering directly, and asked: “What do you think of Qu Xiaoxiao?”

“Little Qu?” An Di thought a moment. “She’s… carefree? Straightforward. Aside from yesterday’s incident, she’s still…”

Wang Yan waved his hand: “Enough. So that’s why you went out of your way to help her, staying up all night—out of virtue?”

An Di pondered whether it was because of Fan’s words or because she couldn’t bear Qu Xiaoxiao’s pathetic whining. Finally, she nodded.

“And what about Fan Shengmei?”

“She? I think she understands social dynamics well—after all, she’s worked in HR for years. But she’s… vain?” An Di recalled Fan’s request that afternoon.

Wang Yan said: “I won’t go on about your virtue-driven forgiveness. As for your idea of her being carefree and straightforward—I won’t say anything harsh. Just observe, as a neutral outsider, how she treats you, how she treats the three girls in 2202, and notice her thoughts. You’ll understand.”

“Fan Shengmei’s words are correct—I agree. Earlier you said an old college lover came to see her? If I were to test that lover from the angle she suggested, do you think she’d consider it a meritorious act?”

An Di fell silent for a long while, then shook her head.

“Exactly. That’s classic ‘talking without feeling the pain.’ When it doesn’t happen to you, everything sounds reasonable. Like Qu Xiaoxiao—she got furious too. As for you, I think you shouldn’t look down from above. That’s not ‘everyday life’ you’re seeing—it’s not something you share with them. Like today: after hearing Fan’s words, you thought Boss Bai had problems. Even though Qu Xiaoxiao made mistakes, the outcome was good, so you leaned toward her. But have you ever considered Qiu Yingying’s perspective? Haven’t you?”

Wang Yan’s words were somewhat heartless—he himself stood above everyone too. But unlike An Di, he respected no one and yet respected everyone; this attitude was forged through countless lives. There was no fixing it—he had an inherent psychological advantage, and he was trying hard to overcome it.

An Di sensed Wang Yan had held back, kept it at a point. But no one likes being spoken to like that. She sat silent for a long time, nodded, offered no rebuttal, drained her glass: “Alright, I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll go think for myself.”

Wang Yan saw An Di out, returned inside, poured another glass, and stepped outside to watch the night.

An Di was still tolerable now—Wang Yan still had patience to talk to her. Later on? He’d be lucky not to break her.

Qu Xiaoxiao? Not worth discussing. Just how it is.

As for Fan Shengmei—no need to elaborate on her double standards and seducing men. It’s pointless.

Wang Yan thought Fan Shengmei was twisted. Her attitude toward family didn’t match her personality or behavior. Judging by the drama, Fan Shengmei likely had a miserable childhood—maybe not tortured, but certainly not happy. Growing up like that, one wouldn’t expect much from family.

With such a background, how could she lack ambition? Who knows what major event changed her later, turning her into this version of herself. She tolerates her family’s bloodsucking and dragging her down, never resists, just hopes to marry a rich man, climb the social ladder, become a wealthy madam—even ordinary bosses aren’t good enough for her.

If it were Wang Yan’s situation, he’d cut ties with his family immediately. Once he had money, he’d return in glory, toss some cash at them as repayment for upbringing—that’d be enough. As for public opinion, others’ views? When he returned later and threw money around, everyone would praise him, never dare to say a word against him. Of course, he might fail—but even then, it’d be better than this slow, painful, bloodsucking grind.

Like Wang Manni back then—these two women both wanted to climb using their looks. They both thought lying down was easier, lighter. But they never once considered relying on themselves or improving their own abilities.

According to the two dramas’ portrayals, they had some ability—the cunning to manipulate men. With ten or eight years of effort, they might have risen a few rungs. If they reached that level, elegant and intelligent, flirting casually would be effortless. But if they had that kind of backbone, they probably wouldn’t rely on men at all.

Back home, An Di lay awake, turning Wang Yan’s words over and over in her mind, reflecting deeply. She wasn’t someone who couldn’t accept criticism—she was rational. Thinking back on her days in Happy Song, her interactions with these girls, she finally understood. Wang Yan was right—she had indeed looked down from above.

Noticing a message from Qidian on Feisi Bukeyi, An Di shook her head and began chatting with him…

The next day, Wang Yan returned to Happy Song after a busy day. At the door, he saw Guan Juer and Qiu Yingying waiting.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wang Da, you’re back?” Guan Juer greeted.

Wang Yan looked at Qiu Yingying’s listless face: “What’s wrong?”

“Wang Da, I… I had a huge fight with Boss Bai today. He got fired, and now he’s telling me to come back and wait for notice for two days. Just now, Sister Fan and An Di analyzed it and said I broke a taboo—I’ll get fired. What should I do, Wang Da~?” Qiu Yingying sobbed.

“Let’s go inside,” Wang Yan said, opening the door for them.

He poured them water, sat them on the living room sofa: “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Qiu Yingying then rambled through the day’s events.

It was nearly identical to the original plot: Boss Bai didn’t succeed, and Qiu Yingying’s words had wounded him deeply, compounded by friends’ teasing. Unable to bear it, he still wanted to use some trick to target her, find an excuse to harass her.

In a rage, Qiu Yingying screamed everything—everything she could and couldn’t say—and made a scene.

Wang Yan had foreseen this, but hadn’t expected Boss Bai to act so impulsively the very next day.

“They’re both veterans—they know these things inside out. Their advice is sound. I won’t analyze further.” Wang Yan thought a moment. “Tomorrow, you’ll probably get the notice. I’ll get you a lawyer to negotiate for compensation.”

“So I’ll be unemployed? What good is compensation?” Qiu Yingying burst into tears: “I fought so hard to get this job! Now I have to find another one… what am I supposed to do?”

“Xiao Qiu, don’t cry,” Wang Yan sighed. “Just come work for my company. I’ll train you.” He gave Guan Juer a meaningful glance to comfort Qiu Yingying.

Guan Juer immediately patted Qiu Yingying: “Really? That’s great, Yingying! Don’t cry—Wang Da’s offering you a job, training you. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Qiu Yingying snapped out of her stupor, stunned: “Really? Wang Da?”

Wang Yan nodded: “Of course. You might even be the next An Di.”

“But I don’t know… anything. Is that… okay?” Qiu Yingying fretted.

“What’s wrong with that?”

Hearing this, Qiu Yingying burst into tears again, choked: “Wang Da, why are you so good to me?”

Wang Yan smiled: “Why? Because I like you? Because you’re silly and cute? Enough. Go home. Your crying’s giving me a headache.”

Qiu Yingying chuckled sheepishly: “Thank you, Wang Da. We’re leaving.” “Goodbye, Wang Da.”

Wang Yan saw them out, turned, and walked back inside.

He had no romantic interest in Qiu Yingying—she could feel it. Her coming upstairs to cry to him? Maybe she subconsciously hoped for help? Or perhaps she had her own little scheme? Or maybe she just trusted him?

He shook his head, smiled, and picked up a book.

Downstairs, 2202.

Fan Shengmei put down her phone: “What did Wang Yan say? What’s his take?”

Qiu Yingying beamed: “Wang Da said you and An Di-jie were right. You made sense.”

Fan Shengmei blinked: “That’s it?”

Guan Juer added: “Wang Da said the result will come tomorrow—he’ll get Yingying a lawyer to negotiate compensation.”

“Compensation?” Fan Shengmei, with years of experience, thought: “That’s possible. Alright, the matter’s nearly settled. Yingying, think about your future.”

Qiu Yingying beamed: “Wang Da said I can work at his company—he’ll train me.”

Fan Shengmei said nothing, feigned delight: “Really? That’s wonderful. You must work hard.”

“Don’t worry, Fan Jie, no problem!” She skipped happily back to her room.

Watching her, Fan Shengmei pulled Guan Juer aside: “She’s not… involved with Wang Yan, is she?”

Before she could continue, Guan Juer said: “Oh, Fan Jie, where do you get that idea? Wang Da isn’t like that.”

“I just can’t imagine it—your knowledge of Little Earthworm’s abilities—you know she…”

“Hmm…” Guan Juer paused. “I don’t know why Wang Da is helping Yingying, but Fan Jie, they really aren’t together. I can feel it.”

Though Fan Shengmei still believed she was right, seeing Guan Juer’s sincerity, she nodded: “Alright, alright, let’s drop it…”

The next day, Wang Yan rose as usual for his morning run. The elevator stopped at the 22nd floor.

Wang Yan greeted An Di and Guan Juer outside: “Didn’t see you two up yesterday.”

An Di, stepping in, said coolly: “Slept late on Sunday.”

Guan Juer, embarrassed: “I was sore from running yesterday—I couldn’t get up.” She always felt exhausted, never enough sleep.

Wang Yan said: “You’ll get used to it. Everyone starts like this.”

At the opposite park, Wang Yan did a quick warm-up, waved to them, and ran off.

Guan Juer watched Wang Yan circle past them again and again, panting: “An Di-jie, does Wang Da run like this every day?”

An Di sighed: “Yes. His physical ability is incredible—he’ll do two sets of martial arts later. I really admire him.”

Guan Juer was stunned. She counted lap after lap—he ran about fifteen kilometers, then performed two sets of martial arts that looked devastating. Was this morning exercise?

At breakfast, Wang Yan, watching Guan Juer stare at him like he was a beast, sighed: “Xiao Guan, stop staring. Eat.”

“Oh, sorry, Wang Da,” Guan Juer quickly lowered her head to sip her porridge. “I just didn’t expect you to be this strong.”

“I know, I know. Accept your praise. Now eat.”

An Di smiled, watching them, nibbling her bun. She looked at Guan Juer, then said: “Wang Yan, I’ve thought about what you said these past two days. You’re right—I have problems.”

Wang Yan glanced at her: “Good you realized it. Eat. Time’s running out.”

Guan Juer, confused, looked between them, said nothing, and quietly sipped her porridge.

After breakfast, Wang Yan returned home, packed, washed up, and headed to work.

He found a familiar lawyer, called to give him instructions, then sent him Qiu Yingying’s contact information—after all, it was a professional’s job, and the rest didn’t concern him.

On the way to the company with Guan Juer, Andi asked: “I forgot to ask Wang Yan this morning—you went to see him afterward, right? What did he say?”

Guan Juer recounted the whole story to Andi again.

After listening, Andi didn’t know what to ask, feeling uneasy inside. She frowned and said: “Although I’ve known her only briefly, I know Xiao Qiu’s abilities. And I have some understanding of Wang Yan—he wouldn’t be…”

“Oh come on, Sister Andi, why are you sounding like Sister Fan? Brother Wang isn’t like that,” Guan Juer sighed, defending Wang Yan: “I’ve discussed Brother Wang with Xiao Qiu before—she felt he was more like an elder, and I feel the same. Don’t overthink it, Sister Andi. Brother Wang is just looking out for us.”

After hearing this, Andi let go of her negative thoughts and said nothing, turning on the radio instead.

In the afternoon, Wang Yan was in a meeting when he received a call from Qiu Yingying.

Without elaborating, he told her to come to the company, hung up, sent her the address, then resumed the meeting—he was truly busy.

The company was still in its early stages; he couldn’t yet be a hands-off boss. He was needed everywhere—leading projects, managing daily operations, securing business, meeting clients—all fell to him.

After a while, he clarified everything and finally ended the meeting. He made it clear what they needed to do; how they did it was none of his concern.

Just then, Qiu Yingying, looking around nervously, was led in.

Seeing Wang Yan, Qiu Yingying jumped up excitedly: “Brother Wang, thank you so much, really! That lawyer brother was amazing—you wouldn’t believe what happened back then…”

“Stop. Look around.”

Qiu Yingying glanced around and saw everyone staring at her, drawn by her loud voice. Her face instantly flushed red; she awkwardly chuckled and waved apologetically to those around her.

He waved to signal everyone to return to work, then led Qiu Yingying to his office.

He poured her a glass of water and said: “Alright, go on.”

Qiu Yingying took the water, thanked Wang Yan, took a sip, and said: “That lawyer brother was incredible—he said our HR manager was sweating buckets, looked so nervous… In the end, they compensated me with three months’ salary. Hehe, thanks, Brother Wang.”

“No problem, don’t mention it,” Wang Yan waved his hand. “When are you coming to work? Taking a couple days off or what?”

Qiu Yingying replied: “I’ll come tomorrow. Everyone else is working, no one’s around to keep me company, and staying home alone is boring.”

Wang Yan nodded: “I run an internet company—it’s not much related to your previous job. Start from the bottom. I’ll assign someone to guide you. It’ll be tiring; overtime is unavoidable. I won’t give you special treatment just because you’re my friend. Learn as much as you can, improve your skills. You’re okay with that, right?”

Qiu Yingying quickly raised her hand, swearing earnestly: “No problem, no problem! Don’t worry, Brother Wang—I promise I’ll work hard.”

“I’ll judge you by your actions,” Wang Yan said, waving his hand. “What was your old salary?”

“Hmm… after social security, it was under four thousand.”

“I’ll give you five thousand after tax—is that enough?”

Qiu Yingying didn’t overthink it, nodding happily: “More than enough! It’s even close to Guan Juer’s—she’s an intern at a Fortune 500 company! And after accounting for commuting, it’s way higher than before. Thank you, Brother Wang.”

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“That’s it for now. When I see your skills improve, your salary will rise. So work hard—don’t think I’m discouraging you, but with your current abilities, five thousand is already a stretch.”

Qiu Yingying didn’t mind Wang Yan saying her abilities were poor—she knew they were, and who could blame him for saying so? She said seriously: “Brother Wang, I understand. Thank you~”

“Alright then. Go handle your onboarding first. Start officially tomorrow. Today, go home and rest well—what’s ahead won’t be easy.”

As he spoke, Wang Yan opened his office door: “Xiao Liu, come here.”

Watching Qiu Yingying skip off happily with the staff to handle paperwork, Wang Yan smiled, took a sip of water. If, after a month, she was still whining and skipping around like this, she’d be truly clueless—and no one could save her.

He had no intention of teasing a child; his words weren’t jokes. He genuinely wanted to nurture Qiu Yingying. But he wasn’t her babysitter—just lending a hand. The opportunity was given; whether she seized it was up to her.