In Ding Yun's understanding, though her original self had always been at odds with her mother, even becoming pregnant before marriage and insisting on keeping the child, she had ultimately regretted her choices.
However, she was unwilling to admit she was wrong.
She felt the world itself was wrong.
She didn't want to hear her mother say, "I told you so. Not listening to me was your own doing, leading to an inescapable fate."
Therefore, Ding Yun believed that what the original self could accept and understand, or what she desired for raising her child, was for the child to not experience the same kind of suffering, to grow up healthy and unburdened.
Thus, from the very beginning, Ding Yun used herself, or rather the original self, as a cautionary tale to educate her daughter.
She also made sure to expose her daughter to the world more.
Gossiping about typical divorce cases in the neighborhood, for instance.
This was to prevent her daughter from being naive and easily deceived by a few words. Beyond that, Ding Yun did numerous other things, always trying to consider her daughter's feelings, guiding her subtly without making her feel overly controlled.
In essence, it was a process that required immense care.
This was because such an educational approach was difficult to perfect; being too strict was not good, nor was being too lenient. A delicate balance had to be maintained.
Furthermore, it required adapting to the individual, the times, and even the child's mood.
Children are different, eras are different, and even a child's fluctuating emotions demanded appropriate adjustments.
Therefore, Ding Yun could only carefully consider things herself,
and make suitable changes based on her daughter's reactions.
Whether it was Ding Yun's effective parenting or the child's naturally docile disposition, her daughter was generally quite well-behaved. She didn't get into fights with classmates in elementary school, nor was she bullied or bullied others. In junior high, she didn't engage in early romance or experience a decline in grades.
This period of relative peace and stability
lasted until her daughter's final year of high school.
It wasn't that her daughter had changed; rather, Ding Yun was influenced by the reactions of other parents around her and began to feel anxious about her daughter's college entrance exams. Although her daughter could live very comfortably with the two companies she owned, even if she scored zero on the college entrance exams and didn't go to university,
when everyone else was tense and the atmosphere was charged, who caring about their child could remain unaffected?
Coupled with the school's intensive efforts—canceling weekend holidays and only allowing half-days, extending evening study sessions until past nine or ten o'clock—Ding Yun's anxieties, beyond her daughter's upcoming college entrance exams, were more focused on her daughter's physical health and psychological state.
As a result, Ding Yun inevitably provided her daughter with all sorts of nourishing supplements and frequently had heart-to-heart talks, fearing she might experience psychological issues
and be unable to withstand the oppressive and tense learning environment.
Of course, if it were merely this, it wouldn't have led to an unstable life. What truly worried Ding Yun and could potentially affect her daughter's studies and college entrance exams primarily stemmed from the Zhou family, yes, the Zhou family with whom her daughter shared a blood connection.
They were as tenacious as cockroaches.
Years ago, their family had looked down on her.
Now, they were clinging on relentlessly.
Originally, when news reached Ding Yun that Zhou Shou, who had been bedridden for a year and indulged his appetite without restraint, had become obese at over 300 pounds and consequently died suddenly, Ding Yun secretly rejoiced, thinking this matter was finally settled and she would no longer have to worry about a hidden threat
or someone who could cause trouble for her daughter.
But Ding Yun never expected that even after Zhou Shou's death, his mother would still stir up trouble, and specifically choose to do so just as her daughter was approaching her college entrance exams.
What exactly happened?
The matter traces back to the "Jiaorenlei" (Mermaid's Tear) skincare company that Ding Yun founded years ago. Initially, her skincare company operated on a budget-friendly, low-end route. Furthermore, their publicity relied entirely on word-of-mouth.
Therefore, although sales revenue was good and reviews were positive, it didn't truly create a significant impact, and it was worlds away from a monopoly.
However, as time went by, the "Jiaorenlei" brand, with its exceptionally effective and remarkable results, rapidly captured a large portion of the mid-to-low-end skincare market. Later, she continued to launch various creams, lotions, and serums with different functions, as well as makeup, and even more high-end products selling for thousands or tens of thousands.
This undoubtedly put many competitors out of business.
The market share occupied by their skincare products, which started at less than one percent, gradually increased to three percent, five percent, ten percent, twenty percent, and eventually fifty to sixty percent.
This was a terrifying statistic, as it meant a large number of skincare companies would either go bankrupt directly
or experience a sharp decline in revenue.
In the end, even top domestic and international skincare brands began to see a cliff-like drop in sales. From that point on, the suppression, smear campaigns, and slander targeting "Jiaorenlei" never ceased. Of course, attempts at acquisition or stealing secret formulas were also constant.
However, Ding Yun never disclosed these matters to her daughter.
And she managed to handle them all.
Moreover, the efficacy of her products was undeniably robust.
Ultimately, she persevered, her business developing better and better, even embarking on a strong trajectory of forging her own path and leaving others with no path to tread.
In the past two years, she had even begun to expand into overseas markets,
achieving considerable success.
Correspondingly, she had offended more and more companies.
The actions of some companies against her had escalated to the point of bribing personnel to secretly add toxic substances to the production lines. Had Ding Yun not already dismantled the artificial intelligence of a spare household robot she wasn't using at the time and assigned it specifically to monitor the skincare production line, the perpetrators might have succeeded.
From then on, Ding Yun's precautions became even stricter. She even purchased several used, low-level AI units
to comprehensively supervise all production lines.
Each finished product was meticulously inspected.
Only after passing inspection and being confirmed to have undergone no tampering could they be officially sold.
Simultaneously, measures like unique identification codes for each item were implemented.
In short, she had taken every possible precaution.
Yet, unexpectedly, they changed their strategy. Instead of targeting the products themselves, they painstakingly investigated the mastermind behind the products and then attempted to attack the company's owner through moral blackmail.
Hu Lin was their pawn.
In fact, if Zhou Shou were still alive,
he would have been a more suitable candidate.
As for what they did, it involved deliberately concealing certain facts while solely describing the Zhou family's plight, Zhu Xin's heartlessness, Zhou Shou's death and the fact that his daughter didn't visit him, and strongly suspecting that Zhu Xin was responsible for Zhou Shou's paralysis.
To achieve this, they even released photos of her daughter.
Although it was a very blurry photo,
it still enraged Ding Yun.
Concurrently, public opinion on the internet was in an uproar.