Chapter 946: Car Crash

Zhou Andong sighed: “I can’t go.”

An Congwen asked: “Busy?”

Zhou Andong nodded: “The day after tomorrow I’m going to Xiangjiang; I won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Priorities come first,” An Congwen said, already prepared. “When you have time later, give another lecture to the art academy students—just don’t refuse.”

Zhou Andong smiled: “The art academy inviting me to lecture? That’s a huge honor—I’d never dare refuse.”

“You,” An Congwen chuckled, shaking his head. “Ningning starts school in a few days. She’s never been to daycare or preschool—I’m taking her to register and chatting with the principal and teachers to explain her situation.”

Zhou Andong felt a pang inside—this was the advantage of having connections. No matter how smart Little Four was, having never attended preschool, he’d struggle to keep up with kids who had.

Teachers wouldn’t like such a child. In his past life, if not for the teachers’ strong sense of responsibility back then, Zhou Anning—who later became so arrogant—might have grown into a towering tree or a crooked one; it was hard to say.

“Uncle An, thank you for your trouble.”

Zhou Andong sincerely thanked him—he believed that with An Congwen’s influence, Little Four’s growth would surpass his past life. And Beijing’s education? No rural school could compare.

“Family doesn’t need formalities,” An Congwen said. “I’ve found tutors for your cousin and cousin sister. After school starts, we’ll assess their progress and set up a remedial plan.”

At that moment, Wu Chao drove up. Zhou Andong opened the car door: “Uncle An, where are you going? I’ll drop you off.”

An Congwen didn’t refuse, bowed his head, and got in: “Take me to the art academy.”

Zhou Andong and An Congwen sat in the back; Jian Qiu took the front passenger seat.

“Uncle An, I’ve assigned someone to coordinate the donation with you—keep it low-key, no ceremony needed.”

An Congwen froze. Donated so much money and no ceremony at all?

Instantly, he sighed inwardly—only someone like Zhou Andong, with true compassion, would give without expecting anything in return.

He glanced at Jian Qiu up front—this girl’s luck was truly good, to have met Zhou Andong.

Then he thought of his own daughter, and sighed silently.

At the art academy, An Congwen got out: “Uncle An, please look after my family affairs.”

An Congwen waved his hand: “Go on, don’t worry about home.”

As soon as Zhou Andong left, another Mercedes pulled up to the art academy gate. Song Ziyi stepped out, dressed in a suit and tie.

He turned, bent over, retrieved a bouquet of roses from inside, then slammed the car door shut.

The guy wore a suit and tie, and looked genuinely handsome.

Especially with a Mercedes parked beside him and a large bouquet of roses in hand—he instantly drew many glances.

He flashed what he thought was a charming smile, checked himself in the car window, adjusted his hair, then strode into the art academy gate.

On the twelfth floor, he took the elevator to the fourth floor. As he stepped out, the dorm supervisor banged on the window and shouted.

“Stop!”

The shout startled Song Ziyi. He frowned. “What’s the problem?”

“What’s the problem?” The woman stormed out, furious. “This is a girls’ dorm. What are you doing here?”

Song Ziyi was stunned—he hadn’t been stopped when he brought his sister here before.

“I’m here to see my sister—she’s in Room 408!”

The woman, around forty, sized him up warily. “What’s your sister’s name?”

Song Ziyi wasn’t used to being scrutinized like this—especially by an old woman, and worse, one without money.

If this were some foreign upper-class socialite—even an eighty-year-old matron—he’d puff up like a rooster, flaunting his feathers to show off his grandeur.

“My sister’s name is Song Zihui.”

“Wait!” The woman gave Song Ziyi another wary look. “Don’t wander around—I’ll go call her.”

Song Ziyi’s visit to Song Zihui was just an excuse—his real goal was to see Zhou Anqin.

But this was a girls’ dorm. Even if he didn’t understand the rules, the supervisor’s attitude made it clear.

If he forced his way in, trouble might follow—so he compromised, standing still obediently.

“Brother!” Song Zihui stepped out of the dorm, saw the roses in Song Ziyi’s hands, and sneered. “Here to see Zhou Anqin? She’s not here.”

Song Ziyi frowned. “Where did she go?”

Song Zihui said: “She went to Dicos this morning—left early.”

Song Ziyi asked: “Why didn’t you go with her?”

Song Zihui’s face darkened. She wanted to explode, but saw the supervisor nearby and swallowed her anger.

“Let’s talk outside.”

Song Ziyi nodded: “Let’s go.”

They didn’t take the elevator—went down the stairs, exited the twelfth floor, walked to a tree nearby, and Song Zihui’s eyes turned red.

“Everyone in the dorm is ignoring me. Do you know how I’ve been these past few days?”

Tears spilled from Song Zihui’s eyes.

“And I’ve humbled myself, begged to befriend Zhou Anqin—but she’s always cold and distant. I can feel she’s wary of me.”

Song Ziyi’s frown deepened. This wasn’t how he imagined it.

He thought that even if Zhou Andong was rich, he was just a country nouveau riche—his sister Zhou Anqin, naturally, had never seen the world.

If his sister made an effort, becoming friends with Zhou Anqin would be effortless.

At that moment, a man wearing sunglasses, holding a bouquet of roses, dressed like a colorful butterfly, walked over.

“Hey buddy, is this the girls’ dorm?”

Song Ziyi saw the man also holding roses and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t know!”

The man chuckled, ignored him, and walked into the twelfth floor.

“Zhou Anqin!” Song Ziyi looked up and saw Zhou Anqin approaching in the distance. He shouted happily and hurried toward her.

The young man who had just entered paused at Song Ziyi’s shout, stepped back a few paces, exited the gate, saw it was truly Zhou Anqin, and sprinted toward her.

“Xiao Qin!”

Seeing two men, each holding a bouquet of roses running toward her, Zhou Anqin stopped. Especially when she saw the young man—her face filled with surprise.

This scene drew many glances. After all, this was the art academy—a place steeped in romance.

Especially among female students, their gazes toward Zhou Anqin were filled with envy.

“Xiao Qin, I’ve missed you so much.”

The young man, though starting later, reached Zhou Anqin first, thrust the flowers into her hands.