2. Transferring Schools

Chen Ruowen distinctly remembered that last night she had fallen asleep hugging her knees, yet somehow, upon waking, found her head resting on Bai Jinyan’s shoulder. He seemed to have been awake for some time—perhaps he hadn’t slept at all. When Chen Ruowen opened her eyes, she saw him sitting motionless, his face solemn as he gazed out over the sea, lost in thoughts unknown to her.

“You’re awake?”

Feeling the brush of her eyelashes against his chin, Bai Jinyan turned his neck slightly and glanced down at Chen Ruowen.

The sun had just risen, golden rays spilling over him, filtering through strands of his hair and into Chen Ruowen’s eyes, illuminating her world with a brilliance no earthly splendor could rival. In that moment, she knew this man was someone she could never let go of.

Straightening, she stretched lazily and asked, out of habit, “What time is it?” No sooner had she spoken than she realized she was stranded on a deserted island—her phone gone, her watch ruined by water. How was she to know the time?

Yet Bai Jinyan answered without hesitation. “Around six o’clock.”

“So early?” She wasn’t at all surprised he knew. Instead, she lay her head back on his shoulder. “Let me sleep a bit longer. Wake me at nine.”

Bai Jinyan found her amusing, pushing her gently. “No more sleeping. Help me find some dry branches—unless you don’t want to go home?”

Weighing the allure of her new pillow and the temptation of returning home, Chen Ruowen finally chose to get up. There would be plenty of pillows to come, but she had no desire to prolong her survival experience on this island.

Through their combined efforts—mostly Bai Jinyan’s—they managed after an hour and a half to build a fire, its flames a signal for rescue. Bai Jinyan even used a stick to burn a giant “SOS” into the grass.

By midday, a drone squad that had been flying over the East Sea since dawn finally spotted the signal on the barren island. Chen Ruowen and Bai Jinyan were rescued.

After returning home, the aftereffects of survival on the island became apparent. That afternoon, Chen Ruowen came down with a high fever. Despite the careful care of the family doctor, it took three days for her to regain her strength. Once she was well, the first thing she did was to burst into Chen Liwan’s study.

“I want to transfer schools.” Without ceremony, she tossed her tablet in front of Chen Liwan and flopped into the armchair opposite him.

“You’ve just recovered. What are you up to now…?” Chen Liwan rubbed his temples, setting aside his newspaper, feeling a headache coming on.

Having had a daughter late in life, Chen Liwan had always indulged her every whim, which had fostered in Chen Ruowen a willful, unruly temperament. Luckily, aside from her spoiled ways, his daughter’s beauty, talent, and character were second to none, and he had no worries about the family business once he retired.

Seeing her obstinate expression—too lazy even to speak—Chen Liwan shook his head and looked at the tablet she’d thrown in front of him. As he scanned the screen, his attention was immediately caught.

“South City No. 1 High School?” He enlarged the document, surprise in his voice.

Hearing his daughter wanted to transfer, he’d assumed she was dissatisfied with her current school or that some other wealthy heirs had convinced her to go abroad early for mischief. But she handed over information on the top-rated high school in South City, renowned for its university admission rate.

Chen Ruowen, who never put much effort into her studies, was now requesting to enroll in a prestigious school? Had the ordeal of the shipwreck finally inspired her to find purpose?

Though he’d already decided in his heart to agree at the sight of “South City No. 1 High School,” Chen Liwan skimmed the documents, feigning deliberation.

“It’s not easy to get in there. Your old dad doesn’t have much influence in that area.”

Chen Ruowen lounged on the sofa, unconcerned. “If you don’t have connections, just donate a building. It’s only a bit of pocket money.”

Chen Liwan was speechless. Yes, he was wealthy, but his money didn’t grow on trees. If he had to donate a building every time she transferred schools… at Chen Ruowen’s rate, even the largest fortune would eventually be squandered.

“Though our family doesn’t need you to get a degree from a top university for prestige, sweetheart, you’re almost a senior now. Transferring at this point—you have to give your dad a reasonable explanation.”

An explanation? What other reason could there be? Over the three days since returning from the island, Chen Ruowen had finally realized how her feelings for Bai Jinyan had evolved.

She liked Bai Jinyan.

Since she liked him, she had to have him. Not just have him, but keep him close, see him every day.

Chen Ruowen didn’t really know how Bai Jinyan felt about her, nor did she care. She only knew that whatever she wanted, she would have—and she always had, from childhood to now. Bai Jinyan would be no exception.

Snatching her tablet back from Chen Liwan, Chen Ruowen stood up from the armchair.

“I’m transferring, no matter what. You figure it out.” With that, she waved a hand, leaving Chen Liwan with a graceful parting silhouette.

Yet as she reached the study door, she stopped, turned, and gripped the doorframe to add, “And I want to join Class One of Senior Year—the best science experimental class. Don’t put me anywhere else.”

“You’re switching to science?” Chen Liwan was stunned.

Transferring schools was one thing—just a matter of donating a building, as Chen Ruowen said. But transferring his daughter, a liberal arts student, to the top science class…

Although Chen Liwan doubted whether high school humanities or sciences would matter much for her future management of the company—and didn’t expect her to work hard for the college entrance exam—surely the school would have concerns? Especially since Chen Ruowen insisted on the very best science experimental class.

Would the school really let a rich, idle heiress ruin the academic spirit of their star class?

Chen Liwan suddenly realized that perhaps this wasn’t a problem a single building donation could solve.

But Chen Ruowen gave it no thought; she dropped her demand and left without considering whether it was reasonable or feasible.

After pondering for a while, Chen Liwan finally called his assistant.

“Zhao, didn’t the planning team just bring in a batch of new hires last month? For this month’s assessment, have each of them prepare a project proposal—due in three days. The topic? Let’s make it ‘Cross-major Transfer Plan for Key Schools.’ One proposal each, late submissions will fail the assessment. Compile them for me, yes, that’s right…”

Hanging up, Chen Liwan smugly picked up his newspaper. He couldn’t think of a solution himself, but he had an entire marketing and planning team behind him!

“A boss who knows how to use his people and fully tap their potential—that’s a qualified boss!”