From Dropout to Housemaid-The Upper Crust’s Favorite

Hai City, Huayuan Venture Capital.

When Jiang Xianyu woke up in her office, her head was still spinning.

Instinctively, she rubbed her temples-a habit she had developed after joining the investment banking world.

Investment banking was a battlefield for the ambitious, where women made up less than twenty percent of the workforce. As one of the few, she had to fight tooth and nail to survive; otherwise, she’d be devoured without a trace.

She glanced around. This was… her office?

Suddenly, memories came flooding back. She remembered working overtime in her rented apartment until 3 a.m., only to collapse and die from exhaustion.

So why was she here now?

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

The person who entered was Jiang Yuan, her former subordinate.

“Manager Jiang, here’s the due diligence report for Tianyuan Pharmaceutical. Please take a look.”

Jiang Xianyu’s hand froze momentarily as she reached for the folder, but she quickly masked her surprise and opened it. “You can go now. I’ll review it and get back to you.”

Jiang Yuan left without suspicion, even closing the door behind him.

The moment she heard the door shut, Jiang Xianyu’s composure crumbled.

She grabbed her phone and checked the date.

September 2, 2017!

Had she traveled back eight years?

She remembered Tianyuan Pharmaceutical-it was the second project she handled after being promoted to VP, culminating in its IPO at the end of 2017.

Jiang Yuan had worked under her for years and had since been promoted to VP, becoming her equal. That’s why it felt so odd for him to be delivering documents to her now.

It was clear: she had been reborn.

2017-what a glorious year it had been for her.

After graduating, she joined Huayuan Venture Capital and, in just three years, became the fastest-rising star in the company.

Earlier that year, she had secured the challenging Xinyang Technology project, passed the sponsor representative exam, and earned the title of sponsor representative. This promotion catapulted her to VP status, granting her signing authority.

But it was also her final promotion.

She had been promoted in June, but by August, her parents and younger brother had shown up at her office, causing a scene because she hadn’t sent her paycheck home on time.

Even though years had passed, the memory still suffocated her.

The moment her family arrived, they started shouting accusations-calling her an ungrateful daughter and a worthless burden. When she tried to escort them out, they demanded to speak with her superiors to “settle the matter.”

That day, the entire floor was filled with colleagues eager to watch the drama unfold.

Those who had already been resentful of her promotion to VP seized the opportunity to make snide remarks.

Even her boyfriend of one year privately broke up with her after the incident.

When she returned to work the next day, whispers followed her everywhere, and the looks she received were full of disdain.

Her boss called her in for a “heart-to-heart,” advising her to resolve her family issues and not bring trouble to the company.

She could feel the shift in her boss’s attitude-from admiration and support to indifference and condescension.

It was painfully clear why.

She had become someone easy to manipulate, someone who wouldn’t dare to resist.

Just like how bosses preferred employees burdened with mortgages and family responsibilities-people too constrained to quit on a whim.

And with the non-compete agreement she had signed after becoming VP, which barred her from working in the same industry for two years post-resignation, what options did she really have?

Even though a month had passed since the incident, the attitudes of her colleagues had never returned to what they once were.

Her subordinates were still polite, at least on the surface-they had to be, given that she was their boss. But those on the same level as her? They didn’t bother hiding their disdain.

It was at this moment that the thought of resigning began to take root in her mind.

Having been given a second chance at life, Jiang Xianyu realized that so much of what she had once valued was meaningless.

What was the point of working herself to the bone, only to have her hard-earned money drained by her family? For what? Filial piety?

True filial piety required loving parents. With parents like hers, what was there to honor?

Still, if she were to resign, she’d at least wait until the end of the month to collect her full paycheck.

At this moment, Jiang Xianyu felt a rare sense of relief that her salary card was now back in her possession.

When she first started working, her parents had taken her salary card. Thankfully, she had linked it to her WeChat¹ account, so she didn’t have to beg them for money whenever she needed to spend.

There was one time, though, when she was hospitalized for acute appendicitis and had to use the money in her account for surgery. When her parents found out, they didn’t ask a single question about her health. Instead, they immediately returned her salary card, instructing her to transfer her wages directly to their account from then on.

They knew exactly how much she earned each month, so they weren’t worried she’d shortchange them. By having the money deposited into their account, they wouldn’t have to worry about her spending it on herself.

That incident had left Jiang Xianyu with a deep sense of coldness and detachment.

Now, having brushed against death and returned, she saw her so-called family for what they truly were. Whatever lingering hope she had once harbored for them was gone. She no longer needed the illusion of familial love.

She should have woken up to this reality long ago. With a family like hers, there was no such thing as humanity.

Her hometown was a county-level city in Su Province. Her parents, Qiu He and Jiang Hongtao, were staunch believers in the superiority of sons over daughters. After having two daughters-her and her younger sister-they finally had a son, Jiang Xinbao.

Even their names reflected the disparity in how they were valued.

Her original name was Jiang Xiaoyu, and her sister was Jiang Xiaolu. “Xiaoyu” meant “little fish,” a small, insignificant creature in the river. “Xiaolu” referred to “little reed,” a common plant by the riverbank.

But her brother? He was named Jiang Xinbao-“Xinbao,” meaning “treasured heart.” He was the jewel of their hearts, plain and simple.

Later, when she came of age, she changed her name to Jiang Xianyu. She didn’t dare choose something too conspicuous, fearing her parents would notice, so she settled on “Xianyu,” a name that still carried the essence of her original but felt more like her own.

Her parents’ favoritism toward Jiang Xinbao was something she had witnessed since childhood.

In their household, everything-food, clothing, resources-was prioritized for him. Whatever Jiang Xinbao wanted, he got. And when it came to Grandpa Jiang and Grandma Jiang, who had longed for a grandson for years, their doting on him was even more excessive. To them, he was a precious gem.

For the sake of this treasured son, her parents had even sold her younger sister, Jiang Xiaolu, to a childless family in the neighboring village.

She had knelt and begged her parents not to sell her sister, but all they saw was the money they were about to receive.

The day her sister was taken away, Jiang Xianyu had chased after them, crying, only to be dragged back home by her parents. Once they returned, they beat her mercilessly.

From that day on, she would sneak off to the neighboring village whenever she could to check on her sister.

Eventually, she discovered that the family who had taken her sister treated her well. This brought her a bittersweet mix of emotions-relief that her sister was no longer suffering under their parents, but sorrow that her sister now belonged to someone else.

The only reason her parents hadn’t sold her instead of her sister was that she was slightly older. That fact became a convenient excuse for them to exploit her later.

Whenever she resisted their demands, they would throw those words back at her:

“If we didn’t care about you, do you think we would’ve sold your sister instead of you?”

“They wanted you, but we couldn’t bear to let you go, so we sent your sister instead.”

“You’re our firstborn. No matter what, we’ve always spared you.”

“You should understand how hard life is for us.”

And so on.

These words filled her with guilt toward her sister, making her more willing to endure their endless exploitation.

Over time, she came to understand the truth. Their so-called care for her was nothing but a lie, a tool to keep her obedient and compliant.

They hadn’t even wanted to pay for her education.

Starting in high school, she had to work part-time jobs to cover her tuition. Being underage, many places wouldn’t hire her. Occasionally, a kind-hearted shop owner would let her work in the back washing dishes, claiming she was a relative helping out during the holidays if anyone asked.

It wasn’t until her Uncle stepped in, unable to bear the sight of her struggles, that she was able to finish college. He paid for her tuition out of his own pocket.

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