The next day, Qin Yuhe woke up earlier than ever.
In her sleep, Song Xinya habitually rolled toward him, swinging her leg over to drape across him—only for her knee to thud against the bedsheet.
It wasn’t his firm, muscular touch.
Song Xinya grabbed her phone and glanced at it. Five in the morning.
Normally, he woke up at six.
Why was he up so early today?
Was there some urgent matter to handle?
After getting up, Song Xinya brewed him a hand-poured coffee using the Panamanian Geisha beans he always drank.
The dark brown coffee filled a white porcelain cup, its rich, roasted aroma spreading through the room.
She carried the coffee to the study door, knocked, then pushed it open and walked in.
Setting the white porcelain cup by his hand, she stood beside him.
“I noticed you were up pretty early today, so I made you a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks,” Qin Yuhe said, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.
Seeing how busy he was, Song Xinya didn’t say anything more. She left the study and closed the door behind her.
In the living room, the four little ones were hunched over the table, some doing problems, some reading.
Song Xinya walked over to the table. “If you have any questions, bring them out now while I have time. I’ll explain them to you.”
As an A-level lecturer in the education and training industry, she was proficient in math, physics, chemistry, Chinese, English, and every other subject.
If Song Xinya were to take the college entrance exam right now, she’d be terrifyingly strong.
Song Tingye walked over with a Chinese exam paper. “Sister Sunflower’s classroom is now in session! Kids’ studies never improve—probably because they lack a good teacher. What’s the solution? Take a course with Sister Sunflower Song Xinya, and your grades are sure to soar!”
Song Xinya: “Your mouth’s so slick, how come your compositions fall flat?”
Song Tingye: “If I were good, how would you shine, sis?”
Song Xinya: “I don’t need you as a backdrop. I shine just fine on my own.”
Song Tingye spread the Chinese paper out. “My incredibly brilliant sister, what do you think this essay prompt is trying to say?”
Song Xinya looked at the essay topic.
On the paper was a drawing of a cracked smiley face—the same one people often used in texts.
Beneath the cracked smiley face was a line of text: When you feel like you’re about to crack, have you ever noticed two moons smiling?
What insights and reflections does the above material inspire? Please relate it to real life and write an essay.
Song Xinya asked Song Tingye, “When you see this topic, what’s your takeaway?”
Song Tingye: “My takeaway is, the moment I saw this topic, I cracked too.”
Song Xinya tapped the table.
Song Tingye began to answer: “Cracking, moon, sadness.”
Song Xinya began her reply: “Acceptance, perspective, optimism.”
“Opening with the theme: In this fast-paced era, ‘I’m cracking’ has become the catchphrase of young people. It carries three parts self-mockery, three parts helplessness, and four parts of venting about life’s pressures...”
“The middle has three paragraphs. First paragraph: It tells us we must accept the inevitability of ‘breaking’...”
“Second paragraph: It teaches us to rebuild ‘beauty’ from the ruins...”
“Third paragraph: Finally, it’s also the gentle power of reconciling with oneself...”
“End by echoing the theme again: Cracks are not the entrance to an abyss, but the starting strokes of two crescent moons. May you, every time you feel like you’re about to crack, raise a double dose of moonlight in your heart to light the path ahead.”
Song Tingye was completely convinced. “Sis, you’re a genius. That was a top-scoring college entrance essay off the top of your head.”
“We’re born from the same mom, so why are your essays so good?”
Song Xinya: “Because you’re a Chinese-language dunce.”
She waved him off. “I’ve already given you the theme. Go back and start writing.”
“Next.”
Qin Yuyan came over. “Sister-in-law, I have a math problem I can’t solve...”
Song Xinya finished explaining it to her. “Next.”
Song Tingyou: “Sis, I have a physics problem I can’t solve...”
Jin Ruizhi: “Teacher Song, I have a chemistry problem I can’t solve...”
After giving lessons to all four of them for two straight hours, Song Xinya felt like her throat was on fire.
A bottle of sparkling water was pressed to her lips, the cap already unscrewed.
Song Xinya turned her head and saw Qin Yuhe, her eyes lighting up. “How come you came out?”
Qin Yuhe: “I have something I want to talk to you about.”
Song Xinya took a sip from the sparkling water, her lips moist and glistening. “What is it?”
Qin Yuhe: “Let’s talk in the study.”
Song Xinya’s fingers tightened around the sparkling water bottle, a shy blush creeping across her face. “Alright.”
She followed his tall, straight figure into the study. The moment she entered, she locked the door behind them.
Qin Yuhe heard the click of the lock, looked up at her, and a faint smile played on his lips. “Why did you lock the door?”
Song Xinya murmured softly, “Afraid the four minors might see.”
Qin Yuhe: “See what?”
Song Xinya: “See you and me... doing that...”
Qin Yuhe: “Doing what?”
Song Xinya: “The things you do to me...”
Qin Yuhe sat down in his office chair, watching her with amusement. “Do you really think I’m thinking about that every single day?”
Song Xinya: “You don’t think about it every day?”
Qin Yuhe: “...” He did.
True, he thought about it every day, but not every single moment.
If he were driven by lust every minute, his company would have gone under long ago.
Qin Yuhe: “Today, I wasn’t planning to talk about that kind of thing.”
Song Xinya walked toward him. “Then what is it?”
Qin Yuhe tilted his chin up to look at her, his facial features sharply defined and deep. “How did you find that business management book we looked at last night?”
Song Xinya answered honestly, “It was full of obscure, hard-to-understand professional terms. It felt like doing reading comprehension. I stayed up half the night going through it, and I feel like I’ve forgotten everything after one sleep. Is this what they mean by ‘every trade has its own mountain’?”
“Or maybe—” Her face scrunched up, looking troubled. “Maybe I’m just not suited to be a manager?”
Qin Yuhe looked into her eyes and said, “It’s not your problem. That book was poorly written.”
Song Xinya’s heart felt like it got a jolt of electricity.
“Before I bought that book, I even searched online, and the reviews all said it was excellent—a classic in business management.”
Qin Yuhe: “Still not your problem. It’s a classic piece of garbage.”
Song Xinya didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or not, but hearing him say that made her feel much better.
The computer was on. Qin Yuhe held the mouse and clicked to send.
Song Xinya’s phone buzzed. She opened it and saw a file he had sent.
“What’s this?”
Qin Yuhe: “Yesterday, when you mentioned the idea of managing a company, I sorted out some materials for you. Simple, easy to understand—guaranteed to teach you on the first try.”
Song Xinya tapped to open it, and her eyes widened slightly.
It contained twenty Word documents, arranged from simple to complex, from beginner to advanced. The content was all plain language that anyone could grasp. Even when specialized terms appeared, he had included very detailed explanations.
Twenty documents filled with practical knowledge; this was not merely a file, it was an entire book!
He had written a textbook on business administration just for her.
Song Xinya suddenly understood: “You woke up at five in the morning and spent the whole morning putting these materials together?”
Qin Yuhe: “Yes.”
Since she had said she was interested in managing a company, he wrote her a book on business administration to teach her how to run one.
